"I want to sleep but my brain won't stop talking to itself."
CLAYTON
As time passed in the U.S., I found myself forgetting about my old friends in Norway. It wasn't purposeful; I still cared for each one of them deeply. The only person I've stayed in contact with is Grete Aalstad, but even then it wasn't very often. She was off finishing her studies while I was there still trying to start over.
"I can't believe it has been two years since you've left. . ." Grete sighed lightly. "I still remember you being only a few houses away."
It was always bittersweet when we had the chance to talk through Skype. At some point, typically the end, one of us would reminisce of the past; where we were little kids and attached to the hip. When all we had to do was run over to the other's house to have a good laugh or cry, depending on what Grete, the great actress to be, decided to act out for me.
I repressed the urge to frown. "Yeah," my eyes laid low, "--those were the times, weren't they?" I sniffled; not because I was getting emotional, but because the autumn weather was starting to take its toll on me. Grete understood that too. "Well, I gotta go. You're English sounds better and better the more we talk, by the way."
Quickly she threw her long blonde hair into a knot on her head, then gave me a sad smile. "Thanks. . . Until next time!" Her hand went to salute me, but she stopped midway. "Oh, wait - I nearly forgot. Who is this special lady you're going to ask to this fall formal thing?"
The fall formal? In my years previous I had not attended such an event and I definitely did not plan on starting to.
"What?"
"Your Instagram post from a few hours ago; you hinted at asking a girl to it," she spoke slowly as if I were a child. "Right?"
My hand roamed to my back pockets, patting for where I was sure my phone was hiding, but nothing was there.
Okay, Clayton. There is nothing to worry about. Well, other than the fact your parents will kill you for already losing your new phone.
"I never posted something like that before. I'm not even going to it." I spoke calmly, trying my best to remain relaxed.
Grete scrunched her face. "Then what is this?" She lifted her phone's screen over her webcam, sure enough revealing a post from my account.
A post I was one-hundred percent positive I never uploaded.
"Ugh, I gotta go." My eyes narrowed in on the image of a Halloween bear - the same bear mor purchased from her hospital's souvenir shop. She told me she had gotten it for decoration, but I should have known better since she was never a fan of the holiday. "I'll keep you updated."
Grete only laughed before signing off and making my screen go blank.
Her parents were like second ones to me. They wouldn't have pressured me into a relationship I wasn't interested it, yet alone go as far as taking matters in their own hands. Maybe my parents were getting a message from Lucy I wasn't getting.
Ha! Yeah, right. She is totally interested in me and I'm blind. Definitely.
If I wasn't about to reprimand my parents I might have chuckled because of how laughable that sounded. I was pretty good at reading when girls were interested in me and Lucy Walker seemed the least bit. And so I am completely, completely, completely contempt with being friends.
"Sjekk ut at jeg er i ferd med å drepe (watch out I am about to kill)!" I yelled out into the empty hallway, the quiet response broken by my feet padding along. I peered inside far's office space, then the kitchen, and finally found the two conniving villains sitting around the TV in the living room, the corners of their lips curved softly.
I stood there at first; arms firmly crossed, feet set in place while my eyes shot icy stares.
"Well?"
"We just thought--"
"Yeah, that's where you went wrong." I didn't even sound angry; it came out in a whine. I couldn't hold my embarrassment back any further, nor the hope that Lucy didn't see the picture to begin with. "Why can't you leave me alone, ugh."
I grabbed a pillow from the couch and shot it at them both from their cuddling state. Then another. Another. One more. When I ran out of ammo and felt my point was put across, I stormed out the opposite direction.
Way to handle things maturely, Clayton. You're such a man.
- - - - - - - - - -
There were times I hated being apart of the Ridgewood baseball team. It didn't matter it was only preseason - more like pre-preseason - to my coach. We had strict rules and tough workouts. Most of which did not pertain to the sport we were playing, either. Last time I checked five miles did not build anything in the game of baseball. We should have done sprints since we ran the bases or something painfully productive; definitely not train as if I were marathon runners.
"Good work out there boys." Coach smacked the backs of those closest to him. Lucky for me I was the closest. "I know we did not get a lot of field work done today, but you'll thank me later for pushing yourselves like you just did."
Yep, there went Zeke off to the side getting sick for the third time. At least I could proudly say I held it together.
Heavy breathing over shadowed our chant to officially end practice, but once we all hit the showers the red in our faces disappeared instantly. My teammates went from dead weight to immature boys in the matter of fifteen minutes while I changed into fresh clothes. My legs felt like jello (along with my arms, weirdly enough) so I figured it would be smarter to wait out the after effects of running before driving home. It wasn't as if I was in a rush anyways.
"Clayton, hey."
My eyes popped open from their momentary rest, meeting an extremely confident Wesley Howell's nude body. It was a typical thing seen in the locker rooms, but that never meant I became numb to it.
I rubbed my eyes with a tired expression. "What's up?"
There was something off about him. No, it wasn't the fact he was baring everything in from of me - physically he was fine - but the way his eyes did not hold my eye contact long caught me off guard. Wesley was all about confidence. "So, I heard from a couple people you were going to ask Lucy Walker to the fall formal." He finally reached over to his locker and pulled on some underwear.
I tried to make my breath of relief discreet. Then I concentrated on what he brought up. "Oh, no. I don't go to those things." I began scrambling. "Just another rumor; surprisingly not started by Zeke." I slowly got up and reached for my baseball bag, ready to leave before the awkward conversation of Lucy went any further.
In fact I was avoiding Lucy all together that day. Even if she might have missed the picture or not have understood it was directed towards her (thank the lord my parents didn't know tagging existed), knowing she could have made me incredibly uncomfortable.
"So, like - you aren't interested in her?" He shuffled his brown hair a bit in attempt to dry it out.
"Uh, I--" Of course not. Just spit it out already damn it. "No. Not like that. We're friends." I swore I said that more on a daily basis than anything else. "Yeah, no."
Wesley eyed me skeptically at first, but once I gave him a reassuring bob of my head, he grinned. It was stretched with relief. "Alright, cool. That's good to know." The way he said that made me suck in a breath. I knew that look in his eyes. He was interested in Lucy like that. "I've known her since junior high," he added once my confusion became too obvious. "She's cute, y'know. Figured we could have a good time if I asked her."
I found my lips pursing at this; then a slow, rigid smile attempted to delight my features. Despite his over confidence at times, Wesley was a good guy. We never made it past the teammate label, but that wasn't because I didn't like him, per say. He was more into hanging around different people. We did have our occasional talks though.
Like right then for example.
"You like her?" I asked stupidly with my arms crossed over my chest.
Wesley was not shy in nodding with a toothy grin.
My mind attempted to wrap the idea of Wesley and Lucy in my head, and as much as it made sense, I couldn't picture it; even if he was such a nice guy.
"Oh. . ." I stumbled to find the words. Then, finally, "--well then, go ahead and ask her out. No complaints from me." I even managed to give his back a heavy pat before heading out of the locker room.
It was funny, really. I entered the locker room completely nauseous because of running so much, yet a little thought of Wesley being interested in Lucy made me feel even sicker. I didn't want to be that possessive friend who didn't support Lucy's relationship with guys, but I felt something off. I truly did.
So, as a friend, I popped my phone out of my pocket as I made it into the parking lot. I quickly typed something together and sent it to Lucy, but that sick feeling was still sitting in my gut.
To Lucy: Guess what I just heard from the source: Wesley Howell is going to ask you to fall formal.
Sorry this chapter sucked, I was writing it on my phone so if there are typos I'll go and edit later!
Let me get the low down on how you feel about this Wesley and his interest in Lucy in the comments oR THE FACT CLAYTON'S DUFUS PARENTS WERE THE ONES WHO PUT THAT FALL FORMAL PICTURE UP. The doofs.
Dedicated to libbyhooleee for her hilarious comment tying in Pretty Little Liars haha. :)