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"That couldn't have gone worse." Tyler said as we walked down the concrete steps of my dorm building to the campus parking lot.
I scoffed. "You think? He looked like he was going to tear up all over again." I shook my head as he chuckled.
Safe to say, apologizing to the freshmen went terribly. He freaked out because he thought the dean was making me say sorry. Then he freaked out about that and I had to spend ten minutes assuring him that I just felt bad about making him cry. Lesson learned about just letting bygones be bygones.
As we turned the corner to the parking lot archway, Tyler took my hand in his. The corner of my lips turned up at the gesture considering he's never really been much of a touchy person. I, on the other hand, am. I haven't ever admitted that to him. Even after five years of dating and twenty years of friendship.
We stopped in the doorway and he turned to face me, still holding my hand. He used the other to rub the back of his neck. "I'm sorry I can't come up sooner." Unnecessary guilt laced his tone.
My smile dropped a little at the reminder. "It's ok. I understand your dad needs you."
Tyler works at his dad's car shop almost full time. His dad needs the help and he needs the money. The Matthews's, Tyler's family, aren't exactly the most wealthy, so if you want money you have to work for it. Hard.
That's one of the few things I like about my parents. If you need money they're happy to give it and fortunate enough to not have to worry about the cost. I used to take full advantage of their generosity when I was younger, but I work to pay my own bills now. They are still helping with college costs for the new year, but that's about it.
"Yeah, Dad's not giving any breaks this year." He tried to joke but he hesitated instead, like there was something to hide. But what could he have to hide? Especially from me?
He was fine a moment later like my brain had made it up to paranoid me. I blinked the thought away. No reason to freak out over nothing. "You're still coming in a month, right?" I asked hopefully.
"Yes. Of course." He assured.
I gave myself a second to just admire his features. His tall, slim figure and russet skin that always seemed to glow in the sunlight. Dark eyes to compliment his even darker hair that was cropped short in the style he always wore it in. My gazing was distracted when he interrupted, "Don't forget to take your meds."
I shook my head to avoid smiling at his worry. "Busybody."
He shrugged and offered an easy leer in return.
And as quick as it came the nice moment was over. The silence hung between us like dead weight. Tyler's not very good at goodbyes, or hellos, or small talk. I usually carry that factor of our relationship on my shoulders. He used to, but it's just one of those things that drift away with age for some people.
His eyes drifted towards the edge of the parking lot. I followed his gaze to see Wesley Davenport, grinning broadly at us, standing in front of a huge van. Tyler furrowed his eyebrows. "You didn't tell me he was driving you up."
I turned to him, confused as I asked, "Is that a problem?"
But he didn't answer because Wes was walking up to meet us. "Masonette." He said in way of greeting. "And. . ." He waited for Tyler to introduce himself. And of course, he didn't.
"Tyler." I supplied. Tyler squeezed my hand a little tighter until I added, "My boyfriend."
"I know. AJ told me." Wes stuck his hand out for Tyler to shake. Tyler looked down at it for a second before offering up his own. Reluctantly, if I had to guess.
I peered behind Wes to look at the car he had just walked away from to meet us. "Is the Kidnapping Van yours?" I asked him without tearing my eyes away from the big gray monstrosity that was covered in dents and road stickers.
He laughed. I couldn't help but notice how easing the sound was as my tense shoulders relaxed a little. "I'd prefer if you didn't call her that, but yes."
"Her?" Tyler questioned.
He was ignored as Wes took the handle of my suitcase from me and began walking back over to the van. "Come on, Masonette. We have a fourteen hour drive ahead of us and we're wasting daylight."
I groaned. Fourteen hours? AJ told me it was only three. The manipulative bastard tricked me once again. Tyler and I trudged after Wes to the Kidnapping Van and he kindly listened as I cursed AJ under my breath.
Wes opened up the double back doors and lifted my suitcase into the surprisingly clean interior. "You want to put your backpack back here?" He asked as he held out a hand for it.
"No. I'll keep it with me." He didn't seem satisfied with my answer so I added a "Thank you."
He nodded, realizing the dismissal and shut the doors with a thud. Tyler stood silently next to me as Wes rounded the corner and we heard the driver's side door open and slam shut. I sucked in a sharp breath and turned to face Tyler.
He was still eyeing the door Wes had just shut. I reached two fingers up to his chin and turned his head to face me. "Do I get a goodbye?" I jokingly asked, nervous for some reason as I awaited an answer.
Tyler shook off whatever had momentarily occupied his head and lightly smiled at me. He leaned down to peck my lips quickly and pulled away before I could even really think about it happening.
"I have to go." He lied. Doesn't he know I know when he's lying? I mean, we've been together five years.
"Oh, ok." I debated prying for a good second, but what good would it do? I'm leaving so if we fight, it'll have to be resolved over a phone call. "See you soon. Love you." I added in hopes of a response.
But nothing. He's probably just having a bad day and needs a break. That's fine. I get it. I just wish he could put a little more energy in. I tried not to look disappointed as I started to turn. Tyler caught my wrist before I could fully face away from him and for one second I let myself hope he'd say something, anything.
"Don't do anything stupid, ok?" He asked in a hushed tone, concern masking his features.
I gave him another tight smile. "I won't." The question remained unsaid but we both knew what I wanted to ask. Why do you think I would?
I tore out of his grasp before it could grow into another awkward silence. I pulled open the passenger door and climbed in to see Wes just patiently waiting in the drivers seat. He turned the key in the ignition at my arrival and the van made a gurgling noise.
I quickly shut the door behind me as if it would erase the previous conversation and replace it with a new one. Maybe one that ended with an I love you.
"This is some car." I said, looking around at the inside of the Kidnapping Van. Nothing out of the ordinary. Lacrosse gear and suitcases piled in the back, stained carpeting, boring black seats, and a little pair of rainbow dice hanging in the mirror. Completely normal and at the same time a whole other world.
At the very least, not what I expected from Wes.
He patted the dashboard. "Isn't she? Marcsella is my pride and joy."
"Marscella?"
"Yep."
"God, you're even worse about your car than my brother."
"What do you mean?" He flicked some piece of dirt of the steering wheel. "Marscella and Jerry are best friends."
"And I'm assuming Jerry is AJ's car?"
"Yep."
He pulled out of the parking lot and Tyler came into view. He'd already walked most of the way to the stairwell without looking back. I sighed. So much for a wave goodbye.
I didn't realize how long I had been staring out the window until I felt a rough poke on the side of my head. When I ignored it, another one came. And then another.
I turned to face Wes with the most obviously fake smile I could manage. "Yes?"
He poked me again this time right under my bottom lip. "That's a hateful expression."
"Is it? I didn't realize." I sourly responded. I was still upset about Tyler's goodbye but I wasn't going to tell him that.
"It is." He confirmed. "I was poking you so you'd stop looking out that window like a sad puppy." He grinned, glancing over at me as we turned onto the highway. "Trouble in paradise?"
"No. Were you watching?" I questioned, narrowing my eyes so he couldn't see the panic in them.
But he only hummed in response, eyes back on the road.
I tapped my foot uncomfortably, wishing AJ or Salma were here. I hate not talking on road trips. I hate not talking in general. And now I'm stressing over whatever it is Wes saw between Tyler and I's goodbye that made it seem like something was wrong. But nothings wrong. Just a bad day.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Wes asked after a few more moments of the air condition being the only sound flowing through the car. He must hate not talking, too. Scratch that. He probably just likes to hear his own voice.
I pulled my backpack onto my lap so I could get my earbuds. "No."
"Oh, come on. A dime?"
"No."
Was there something wrong with the way Tyler and I spoke to one another? Oh, God. I'm going to give myself a stress ulcer or something if I keep thinking like this. Nothing was wrong, everything was and is and will always be fine. Just. A. Bad. Day.
He blew out a breath. "You're not a very good road trip buddy."
"I'm an excellent road trip buddy." I crossed my arms. "Just not for you."
"So very hateful." He murmured. I could feel his attention turn towards me as we pulled into a traffic stop. "May I ask why I don't get the honor of your road trip buddying? I've heard it's excellent."
This time, I did turn to face him and hoped all the negative feelings I felt toward him, especially the most recent ones for what he said about Tyler and I, gleam in my eyes. "Because you are rude to people being paid seven dollars an hour," I snapped. "For starters."
"You're right."
"And you-" I started to continue before his words sunk in. I had expected a lewd comment or glare but when I looked at his face, his expression remained the same as it had been since the second he picked me up. "I'm right?" I repeated, unsure if now was the time for that lewd comment I'd expected earlier.
"Completely." He turned his assessing gaze back to the road and the traffic that was beginning to clear up. "I only ever was like that to you, by the way. I thought you'd known it was just teasing and I'm sorry if you felt it wasn't." He sent me a sympathetic smile. "As for my friends, they were rude. I should have said something. Especially that time they thought it'd be funny if I got our whole meal refunded."
I scowled at the memory and damned the part of me that thought it was nice he didn't forget. "Yeah, I wish you had. It came out of my paycheck."
He cringed. "I'm sorry. I'll pay you back. However much it was for the meal and any trouble it caused."
Didn't expect that either.
So, I nodded and turned my attention fully onto the road in front of me. About sixty seconds of silence passed before my thoughts started eating away at me.
I wanted to ignore him and his apology. I wanted to pretend I hadn't heard sincerity in his tone. I wanted to just plug in my earbuds and take a nap for the rest of the ride. But for some reason, I couldn't help but continue to push the conversation farther. "Why tease at all? Don't you have better things to do?"
"Oh, I have hundreds of better things to do," He flashed a grin at me. "But I love the look on your face when you want someone to burst into flames."
"Eyes on the road." Unfortunately it was the only response I could think of.
"Right. Sorry." He apologized quickly, turning his head back towards the road. "Now, that can't possibly be the only reason you're so hateful to me. Let's hear the rest."
I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why do you want to know?"
"Hateful and inquisitive." He held up two fingers. "That's two traits I've learned about you. See? We're practically best friends already."
I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. A smile? He's making me smile and I'm just letting him? Get it together, Brienna. I couldn't pretend I wasn't glad for the distraction from Tyler, though.
"The second reason is that you have a reputation for sleeping with every girl you talk to. I'm not trying to slut shame or anything, but after the things I've heard. . ." My voice trailed off as I looked over again to see his reaction to my words.
His expression was brighter than the sun as he laughed. "No, nope. Not anymore. I am channeling my inner Taylor."
Reluctantly, I let the smile show as I laughed at the total stupidity of what he had just claimed. "I'm sorry, you're what?" I asked in disbelief.
His face flushed a light pink. Huh, I didn't think the King of Hookups could get flushed. "I'm still working on the name. Andi, she's AJ-"
"She's AJ's girlfriend and will be at the beach." I did a move along gesture with my hand. "Keep going."
"Hateful, inquisitive, and impatient." He listed off. "You just keep getting better and better."
I was not impressed by the try at a complement. "Finish the story."
"Ok, ok. Andi said I need to channel my inner Taylor and change my reputation like she did. Apparently, I've been labeled a man whore and yes, I do sleep around." A pained expression washed over his face so quick I might have imagined it. "I just hadn't realized it was enough for everyone to know me only for it."
I nodded, once again at the sincerity in his voice. It doesn't at all mean I believe him or even think he's going to actually try to be a better person, but, like I said, I hate not talking on road trips.
And I just can't get over how damn honest he sounds.
"So what's your plan?" I asked skeptically.
"My plan?"
"You said you wanted to change your reputation. How are you going to do it?"
"Aw," He held a hand over his heart and, once again, turned from the road to smile over at me. "You care about my plan."
I rolled my eyes, more playfully then I had meant to. "I don't care about your plan. I just want to know how you think you're going to change the minds of everyone under the age of twenty-four in New Haven."
"You don't think I can do it?" He asked in a. . .well, I guess there's really no way to describe it rather than in a Wes way.
"No."
"I'm hurt, Masonette." Again with the nickname. "Truly."
I shrugged. "You're all bark, no bite. How am I supposed to trust you genuinely feel this way and want to change? I don't know you."
"That's right." He snapped his fingers in my direction, looking even more delighted than before. "You don't know me. Just like most the people who think these things about me. You're the perfect test subject."
"I am not going to be your test subject." I nearly laughed. Shaking my head, I smoothed out some nonexistent crumple on my sweatpants and decided to focus on that instead of the hurt in his eyes when I continued. "I am perfectly fine keeping the opinion I already have of you. Change everyone else's opinions, go crazy, but no. Leave me out of it."
His grin faded into a thin line. "Why?"
"I'm not interested in being your guinea pig and we aren't friends and I don't think we will be." I picked at the edge of my nail so I could continue to have something to preoccupy my eyes besides Wes.
"We could be. You're spending the summer at my house after all."
"How big is the house?"
He quickly blinked away the confusion on why'd I'd be asking something like that in the middle of a conversation like this. "Six bedroom, four bath."
"So, big." I said more to myself than him. "Shouldn't be hard to just stay out of each other's way."
He clicked his tongue. "Hateful." Out of the corner of my eye I saw him glance down at my hands. "You and your brother both do that." He said, nodding to my fingers.
I instantly shoved my hands under my thighs. "Do what?" I asked, hoping I'd sounded unbothered.
"You're both always doing something with your hands. They're never idle."
I was surprised he noticed. "How observant."
Whatever stormy mood had taken over Wes was gone and the sun was back at my statement. "So, I've noticed you're hateful, inquisitive, and impatient, and you've noticed I'm observant. For someone who doesn't want to be friends you're being very friend-like."
I mentally scolded myself. "Forget I said anything."
"Too late for that now." He chimed. "While you were entertaining me with your lovely hatefulness, I was devising a plan."
"A plan for how to change your reputation?"
"Nope. A plan for how to get you to agree to help me change reputation. You see, you agreeing to help me change my reputation is step one in my plan for how to change my reputation. You are a necessity. The plan can't go on without you. What I was going to say is that if you help me, I'll owe you any favor at any time for this entire summer and first semester of you're first year at Yale."
If I had let it, my jaw would have fallen to the floor. That's six months of unlimited favors. Wait. "Define favor."
"Get sloppy drunk and need a ride? I'm there. Need someone to do an assignment for you? I'm happy to help. Want a shoulder to cry on?" He patted his shoulder. "I'll make sure to wear something soft. Anytime, anywhere, you call in a favor, I'll be there in a second. No questions asked."
To do something like that. . .he must be really desperate. Or really stupid. Probably a combination of both. But honestly? It's not a bad deal. It's a really, really good one on my part.
There has to be some other part to this deal. He can't possibly be willing to do all that for an opinion. "And I'm only obligated to help you until we leave the beach?" I asked.
"Well, it'd be heavily appreciated afterwards," He sent a pleading glance in my direction to which I motioned for him to look back at the road. "but yes."
"And you'll really help me with anything anytime? Drop what you're doing if I simply need a ride?"
"Marscella and I will speed over at record time."
I dumped my backpack back onto the floor in front of me. "You do realize this is a really dumb deal on your part?"
He grinned and both of his dimples made an appearance unlike before. "Does that mean you're agreeing?"
"Reluctantly, but," I sighed. "yes. I'll help you channel your inner Taylor or whatever."
Wes looked to be over the moon. "Perfect." He lightly nudged my arm with his elbow. "We're going to be best of friends."
I plugged my earbuds into my phone. "No, we won't."
"We'll see."
"No, we won't."
I raised my earbuds to my ears to tune him out for the rest of the ride. But not before I heard him say, "Hateful." one last time.
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(3498 Words - Published June 26, 2021)
Wes is a Nikolai Lanstov and Garret Graham kinnie if you can't tell
Also please bare with me This story will get good I promise