Saving Laurel

13. Wesley

Laurel Gilroy

The front door swings open, Wes's dimpled smile greeting me.

I can't believe I'm here. Why am I doing this?

Well I know why I'm here. Ellie snatched my phone from my hand while I using it during school and called herself so she'd have my number. And ya know what, she's been blowing up my phone ever since. If I didn't show up tonight, I have no doubt she'd come find me.

She's the new Teagan. I'm not sure how I feel about it.

"Hey." His shoulder jerks as he steps back to let me in.

I take in his house following him in, it's small, the short foyer dumps you straight into the kitchen, or dining room maybe, it's hard to tell because there's no dining room rather a piano pushed against the wall. The living room tucked into the front of the house to the right and a dark narrow hallway that leads to the left. But it's clean and colorful and lived in and I already like it.

"So uh.." Wes whistles behind me. "Bathroom is to the left at the end of the hall and pizza should be here soon."

I glance over my shoulder to see a flurry of movements.

"Sorry." He mumbles.

I kick my shoes towards the pile that's formed in the entryway and as relaxed as I can, I say "for what?"

Ignore them, that's what Ellie said.

Wes bends down, stacking my shoes on top of the rest and it's then that I realize that the shoes are all arranged. The bottom row rotating every other pair, toes facing against the wall. The row on top the opposite. When he stands back up, I catch the blush that creeps up his neck, he smiles slightly and drops his head. "Everyone's in the living room."

But I don't even make it to the kitchen when a woman comes down the hallway to my left, brown hair down in soft curls, jeans and a pair of heeled boots to compliment the white shirt and leather jacket she has on. She has a warm smile, eyes kind, as they land on me.

"You must be Laurel."

I go to stick my hand out to shake hers but she folds me into a hug instead and I let out a surprised "oh!". She smells like mint and clean linen.

"I'm Grace, Wesley's mom." She informs me as she pulls away and I arch an eyebrow at Wes.

Wesley, huh. Nerdy but enduring.

"Pleasure to meet you." I flash a smile.

Wes is hovering, like he's waiting to put out a fire of embarrassment at any minute and it makes me want to laugh.

"Make yourself at home." Grace tells me and then she turns to her son who's standing so close beside me I can feel the material of his jean jacket brush my arm. "I'll be home late, behave yourself."

He smiles, his dimple on full display before his shoulder jumps, then his head jerks violently to the side, a hear him inhale and then his hand touches his nose. His mom doesn't even seem to notice as she cups his face in her hands and kisses his cheek.

"I love you baby." She says warmly.

"I love you too mom." Wes returns it without a hint of embarrassment.

Maybe I was wrong and his lingering had nothing to do with embarrassment and more to do with he's a momma's boy. Didn't see that coming and it only adds to the mystery that is Wes Thompson.

"Alright kids! Mom's out!" Grace shouts from the foyer. "Call if you need anything!"

And then the door clicks shut to a sound of goodbyes and I'm left standing awkwardly close to Wes and before I can think twice about it I say, "Wesley huh?"

He gives me a lopsided smile that I hate to admit is adorable on him and shrugs his shoulders. He doesn't seem to mind his name.

I follow him the few steps to the living room, Brett, James and Savannah already there. Ellie however is missing.

"Ellie should be here.." Wes whistles again his neck straining as he does so. "Soon."

"Scoot over Brett, so Laurel can sit." Savannah says patting the extra space between them affectionately.

Brett glances at her and the cushion she's patting before he clears his throat and pushes his glasses farther up his nose.

"There's enough room." He says and I have to admit, I feel bad for Savannah. He doesn't even seem to realize she exists.

Wes sits on the floor, leaning back against the arm of the couch and I perch on the arm he's leaning against. I don't have it in me to kill Savannah's dreams even if they are unrealistic.

"Do you play?" James says, eyes fixed to the TV and his fingers pound into the controller.

Brett isn't nearly as focused on the game they're playing.

"Laurel?" James says my name and it's then I realize he must be talking to me.

"What is this?" I ask.

I'm answered by everyone. "Mario Kart."

But not only did they answer, they answered with disbelief. And suddenly I feel even more out of place than before, which I didn't realize could happen, so that's nice.

"I've played a couple times." I tell them, I haven't completely been living under a rock. Maybe like partially. "Though I don't really remember how."

"Here." Wes shifts on the floor, his long fingers stretched flat, a little green controller in them.
"This button is your gas, you steer with the joystick and these buttons are for your boosters and your slides."

I have no desire to play a video game. But hazel eyes meet mine, warmth glittering in them and I grab the tiny little controller from his palm.

"Bottom right." Wes says and I sense his tic more than see it as I familiarize myself with the orientation of the controller.

He's some dinosaur looking character, a spiked shell on its back as it perches on a little scooter but I hold my finger down on the button he said was the gas. I watch his rank drop as other characters fly by me but when I glance at Wes he's smiling.

Mason never would have let me play his video games if I had asked. He would have lost his mind if he didn't win. If I made him lose.

He was always competitive. About everything. Even about things that shouldn't be competitive.