Wes Thompson
I'm not as nervous for Ryan to come over this time. And I can almost pretend like everything is fine as I listen to my mom sing to herself as she makes dinner for the three of us. Maybe four, if Brett stays much longer.
But that bookshelf has been driving me crazy, ramping up my OCD all day. I'm honestly surprised Brett is still hanging out, I've only gone behind him and messed with everything he's touched. Its probably annoying, I'm annoyed.
"Are you staying for dinner Brett?" My mom calls from the kitchen just a short distance to where we're on the couch playing video games.
I wish I could say I was smoking Brett but between my tics and my inability to focus I'm losing. Hard.
Good thing I'm not that competitive.
"No I gotta go after this game, thanks though." He calls back.
Whistling, my head jerks after, muscles pulling tight in my neck and instantly I know I'll be stiff from it tomorrow.
"Where you going?" I ask.
"Uh.." he hesitates just long enough for my gears to start turning and I catch the panic that runs through him. "Nowhere just home."
My intention is to cock my eyebrow like I absolutely don't believe him but I don't get that far, instead my shoulder lurches, than my head jerks to the left, sharp inhale and touch my nose.
"In fact I should probably take off now." Brett says, dropping his controller onto the coffee table. "I mean you were gonna lose anyway."
Letting out a snort, I discard my controller too.
"Who is it?" I ask, standing with him from the couch.
"What?" He blurts. "It's no one, nothing. It's nothing."
He's flustered and it only eggs me on. "Uh huh. Should I rope Ellie into this?"
His green eyes narrow at me. "Not cool."
"Sometimes you gotta just take one for the team right Brett." I slap him on the back, momentarily distracted from myself as I deliver his words right back to him.
His jaw unhinges for the briefest of seconds before it slams shut and he smiles. "I won't tell if you won't tell."
Fair enough. Not that I have much to tell. He has way more ammunition than I do. So I just offer my hand because I'm not stupid enough to pass up a truce and we shake.
My crush and whatever he's hiding can stay our secrets for a little while longer.
"See ya tomorrow bro." He calls to me as he gives my mom a hug.
I wave my hand and settle onto a bar stool, listening to the sound of the front door swinging open and Brett's voice as he greets someone.
It must be Ryan.
I don't even have to turn around to realize I'm right as I watch my mom's face light up, beaming with happiness as she tosses the towel to the counter.
Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself to suppress most of my tics. Especially the loud, vulgar ones, ya know ease him into it slowly. Don't want to scare the poor guy off.
"Hey Wes!" Ryan's wearing an equally big smile as he hugs my mom, kissing her cheek as they part.
I wave from where I'm seated, watching as he sets down a small tool bag. Instantly I'm fixated on it and where he's placed it and I already know his shoes need to be fixed and all of that building in my head with everything else makes me tic.
But my mom knows me and she scoops down to pick up the tool bag, placing it between two plants on the half wall of the foyer. I don't love that spot either but it's better.
Ryan gives me one of those shoulder handshakes, the kind that sort of rock your entire body and I smile even though I'm not focused on him.
Surveying the kitchen, more specifically the stove, he rubs his hands together and with a grin on his face he says "how can I help?"
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"I tightened all the screws." Ryan informs me as he lifts my bookshelf back into place with ease.
But it still doesn't feel right. I can feel that somethings off. It's been off since yesterday when I took that book off and I don't trust it. I don't care what anyone says, the bookshelf is a problem.
I shake my head, whistle, and jerk. "It's not balanced."
Ryan glances at me over his shoulder, setting a little yellow level down and I watch the clear bead of liquid fall perfectly between the lines.
It's still wrong.
"It's level." Ryan confirms. "Seems pretty balanced to me."
But he doesn't get it. And I feel myself starting to lose a grip on everything.
"I think I'm just gonna throw it out." I tell him.
He lets go of the bookshelf and I want to tell him not to. Either that or lay it back down because my mom could walk into the room any moment and even though it's empty and probably not that heavy, at least not enough to kill her, it's still heavy enough to hurt and that can't happen.
"Cocksucker!" I shout, heat rushing to my face because this is embarrassing. "Sorry."
I'm embarrassing and I know if I were to try and explain myself that he wouldn't understand.
Ryan surveys the bookshelf, hands resting on his hips, exuding calmness. A stark contrast to myself as I flinch and filter out noises even though all I want to do is swear. I want to call for my mom, I don't even know what she's doing, why she isn't already in here with us even though it'd just stress me out more but I don't.
"How about this?" Ryan says, his focus shifting to me as he leans against the bookshelf. "How about I build you a new one?"
"What?" I can feel my thoughts start to egg on my compulsion and my body wants to comply but I'm not about to do that to Ryan.
"I'll take this bookshelf home with me and I'll build you something new. Maybe shorter, a little wider, so it's more stable." He explains, gesturing with his hands the approximate height and width. "You can even help if you want."
"What?" I repeat dumbfounded.
Words Wesley. Use your words.
"Why?" I try again only to realize it's not much better than 'what'.
Ryan shrugs his shoulders, an easy laugh falling out of him. "Thought it might help, if you know how it's built. Plus, give us a chance to get to know each other. But it's up to you, no pressure."
I'm almost ready to deny his offer, for his sake mostly because I know coming over to our house where I'm comfortable and I've had the chance to get everything out prior to him coming over is a stark difference to how I'd be in a new environment where I'm trying not to be me. But at the last second, right before I squash out the opportunity I nod my head.
"Yeah?" Ryan asks, he seems almost as shocked as I am.
But I can't find words so I just continue to nod my head.
Ryan smiles, nodding his head. "Alright, here you grab that end. We can put it in my truck."
So I do as he says, lifting the one end and the two of us shuffle it out of my room slowly. And with every inch the bookshelf gets closer to the front door, the more settled I become.
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I spent yesterday figuring out how to install and then work this super fancy printer my brother and I bought for my business. If you've been reading all my ramblings, I'm sure at some point I mentioned I'm basically technologically ignorant and so is my brother. Needless to say it took several hours and I had to call in reinforcements aka the hubs. But I did it. So there's that.
So the friend that's staying with us went to the store today and brought me back a bunch of chocolate. I'm basically in love. I'm also thinking about kidnapping him and never letting him leave. Just kidding.
No I'm not.
I'm gonna kidnap him.