Under the Influence ✔

18.

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lunahayes where you lead, i will follow

I look at my phone for the third time since I sat it on the table just minutes ago. "I gained so many followers after you tagged me in that post yesterday, and while I'm flattered, the notifications are driving me crazy." 

I make my way to the couch and take a seat beside Wes, phone still in hand as he puts an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. "What notifications?" He looks down at my phone where I show him the post I had posted earlier, a picture from last night, and then at the amount of likes and comments - which are triple what the amount I have ever gotten before. 

I see a smile spread across his face, despite his attempt to hide it from me, "What?" 

"Nothing." He shakes his head and turns his attention back towards the television, the smile still on his lips. 

"Tell me, Wes." When he remains silent, I poke his cheek until he breaks, looking at me and laughing. "Tell me." 

"It's just that, they're right." 

"About what?" I think back to the comments I had read, trying to figure out which one he could be talking about and coming up with nothing. Most of the comments were about how hot Wes is or how lucky I am  - which, I guess they are right about. 

"They're all trying to figure out if we're a couple, they have been since I first posted about you months ago, and this looks like a very boyfriend/girlfriend like post." 

I look back down at the phone, realizing just how right he is. It's cliche and corny, but when I posted it, it seemed like the perfect thing. In the past month, Wes has become the single most comforting and stable thing in my life. Things have been looking up tremendously for me and it's all because of him. Where he leads, I will follow because unlike before, only good things can happen. Only happy things can happen when I'm with Wes, I'm sure of that. 

But I'm still not sure that I can care for him in the way that he cares for me or in the way that he deserves. "I'm not your girlfriend." 

"I know." He moves closer, the amused look still lingering in his brown eyes. His hand is on my waist, gently gripping the exposed skin of my hip. 

"I'm not."

"I know, Luna." He closes the small amount of distance that is left between us and then as our mouths move in synchronization his hands move further upward as my fingers tangle themselves in his hair. 

Just as Wes moves to take off my shirt, my discarded phone begins to ring from in between the cushions. Ignoring it, Wes throws my shirt to the ground and I do the same to his, only to be interrupted again and again by my phone. Whoever it is, they're persistent. 

With an aggravated sigh from both of us, Wes reaches for my phone and hands it to me without looking at the screen. I brush the loose strands of hair away from my face and look at my phone, surprised to see that it's my mom calling. In the month that I had been out of rehab, I haven't spoken to either of my parents. For awhile my mom would periodically call Wes to see how I'm doing, but after a couple of weeks even that stopped. My sister has called a few times, once a week at least if she has time, and we talk for a short time before she has to get back to her schoolwork or flourishing social life. 

"Well, who is it?" Wes asks, more curious than frustrated now as he watches me stare at the still ringing phone as if I'd seen a ghost. 

"It's my mom."

"Your mom?"

I nod, my finger hovering over the button that accepts the call. I'm hesitant because I don't remember the last time I've had a pleasant conversation with my mom, and I don't want her to ruin my progress. However, she's made it pretty clear that she isn't going to stop calling until I answer her. 

"Answer it, it'll be okay." 

Lucky for me though, I had stalled long enough to make my mom give up. The phone stopped ringing and it didn't ring again. I felt a weight lift off my chest that I didn't know was there. I wasn't ready to be berated by my mom and I'm glad I had just momentarily dodged that bullet. 

Wes and I both stared at the phone in my hands for a moment, waiting for it to ring again, but when we were finally convinced that she had given up, "So, where were we?" His hands slide up my back as he begins kissing his way up my neck - only to be interrupted once again by my phone. 

Instead of a call though, it's a notification letting me know that I have a voicemail. I roll my eyes and reach for the phone, deciding to listen now and get it over with. At least this way I don't have to respond and she can't say anything more than she already has. 

Wes watches as I put the phone to my ear and listen to the message. It wasn't long and it wasn't at all what I had expected. She didn't pass any judgement or make any snide remarks. She almost seemed polite and like a normal, loving mother. 

When the message ended, I hit delete and looked back at Wes, who seemed slightly concerned by my bewildered expression. "What did she say?"

"She invited us to dinner tomorrow night." As soon as the words left my mouth, a pit opened up in my stomach and I was filled with dread. 

"We can say no. If you're not ready, we don't have to go." 

I shake my head, "It's not an option, Wes. Nothing is ever an option."