Becoming Brett

7. Lunch Debate

And once again his interest in Laurel is nearly palpable.

When Wes likes someone it's obvious. His tics start coming out more and he grows more quiet letting everyone else answer around him because he's too busy managing his tics. He's certain they'll scare everyone off. I'm sure there's more going on inside his head, a list of fears and ways to counteract their happening. He blushes like crazy, something that always tends to make me want to smile even though I hide it. And his train of thought is non existent, probably because he's too focused on his crush, not that it's that great to begin with.

"Maybe you should just leave them to it." I suggest as we enter the cafeteria, the noise almost deafening as it bounces off the cement block walls.

Ellie laughs, loud and free. "Please, we might as well just write her name under Cora's than on the list of girls that liked Wes but Wes didn't make a move."

She's not wrong. But I'm still not about to step in and make it happen.

"That's a long name for a list." I say instead.

Pushing my hand into the glass door that lets us out into the sanctuary that is the courtyard, our table we always sit at until the weather absolutely won't let us, empty.

We all sit in the same spots. Me, then Wes to my left, next to him is Savannah, then James, Ellie beside him and then an empty seat. It's mostly for Wes but I also sort of like that James is directly across from me. It's a natural place for me to look without raising questions.

No sooner do we all get seated and Ellie's right back in the air shouting "Laurel!" As she swings her hands over her head.

I can only imagine the look on Laurel's face, it probably matches something close to Wes'. A mix of utter embarrassment and slight horror. His hazel eyes wide with alarm as he looks just over my shoulder.

"I'm not gonna stop until you sit with us!" Ellie kindly shouts at Laurel.

"It's true she won't." James laughs, his eyes flick to mine momentarily and suddenly I'm reminded of the day when Ellie did a similar thing to James. "That's how I wound up here."

The rest of us laugh as Ellie starts to abandon us, probably to go physically force Laurel to the table. But I'm still stuck on James and how if he hadn't started sitting at our table and instead sat with Peter that we probably wouldn't be together. He wouldn't have asked me for help in Geometry and I never would have made the rash decision to kiss him one night when we were studying in his bedroom.

A brown paper lunch bag plops down beside me, my body jerking like maybe everyone heard my thoughts while I was off day dreaming. Laurel sits in the empty spot beside me and suddenly our table is full. Even numbers, Wes should be happy.

"Yay! We finally have our princess!" Ellie squeals.

"You're what?" Laurel blurts in disbelief.

She looks like a princess with her strawberry blond hair that falls over her shoulder in meticulous soft curls that shine in the sunlight. And her milky white skin and vibrant blue eyes with freckles dotting her face. She looks every bit a Disney princess, just stick her in a ball gown and there ya go.

"You're the princess duh. The Breakfast Club. Savannah refused but now that you're here, we finally have everyone." Ellie rolls her eyes like we're all idiots for not knowing every word to every brat pack movie ever made.

James takes a bite of his sandwich but it's never just a bite, it's half the sandwich in one go. I swallow down the smile that I feel building. "How do you figure?"

"The Athlete." Ellie points with her celery stick at James and then next thing I know she's got it pointed at me as she says "the Brain." Back to Savannah, "the Artist because she's difficult." She claims "the Basket Case" for herself, redubs Laurel as "the Princess" and finally lands on Wes as she says "the Criminal".

"What? Why am I the Criminal?" Wes asks before succumbing to a couple tics.

I watch him closely, noticing the tension wafting off him because so often people think he's a problem kid when they don't know him. And sure, I get it, he probably looks like one especially when his coprolalia is loud. But Wes is the farthest thing from a problem kid.

He's also blushing.

Ellie bites into her celery stick, chewing as she says "Duh, you're like a young Judd Nelson. What with the flannels and the jean jacket and all that."

"You can be the Brain." I say indifferently.

I might as well be the criminal, lying and keeping secrets and going behind people's backs.

"Please, he is not the Brain, no offense Wes." Everyone chuckles a little even Wes who will gladly tell anyone that math and science are lame and he'll never use them after high school.

"I'm even less the Brain than I am the Criminal." He does his normal tics, squeezing the last of his sentence out as he does.

Ellie smiles triumphantly. "See so you have to be the Criminal."

My eyes meet Wes' and I can practically see the unease that's building inside him. The attention that's on him and how much he hates it. I want to tell him not to worry, that he's got nothing to be concerned with. Anyone with a decent personality won't be bothered by his tics and OCD. But he never listens, instead telling me I don't understand, that I'm used to him, desensitized. Besides it's not like I want to date him.

I never correct him.

There's only one thing left for me to do. Take the focus off of Wes.

So I clear my throat, pushing my glasses up on my nose and ask "so Laurel, are you liking Eastwood?"

                            —————————

Alright so we bought a house. And since we've bought the house we've been trying to refinish the three rooms w out h original hardwood. Well the rooms are sanded and ready for Monday which is when my brother's amazing friend who I've never met offered to come finish them for free.

Here's my problem. I decided we'd be stupid not to do the steps of the staircase and started sanding them last night.

Long story short. It's not going well and Monday is right around the corner.