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I groan at the mental picture, finally opening the box to Taber’s ridiculously delicious poutine. The cheese and fries are soggy from sitting so long in the gravy and the cold temperature gives the whole thing an odd texture, but right now it is the best thing I have ever tasted.
Who knew tyrant teachers could build such an appetite?
I moan when I find a lukewarm fry and out of nowhere a male voice interrupts my courtyard feast, “Normally I have to put in a lot more effort to get those sounds from pretty girls, but I’m glad my presence does it for you, Trip.”
My head snaps towards the sound, and I blink as my seated gaze meets a black t-shirt. Atightblack t-shirt. One that stretches across broad shoulders, perfectly formed pecs, and hints at a six-pack underneath. Registering the specimen before me, my thought process all but obliterates as boyish dimples flash my way. Trying not to focus on the fact this gorgeous guy just called me pretty, I do my best to look annoyed.
“I doubt you have to put much effort in when it comes to girls, Wes. Why are you here?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m naturally charming. I’ve been told I have a yellow aura. Never been very good with aura distinctions but apparently that’s a good one.” With a sigh, Wes plops down next to me on the bench.
I stiffen, trying not to let his leg brush against mine.
“I came to see if you were okay. It wasn’t cool for Anderson to call you out like that, let alone make you a target for every wannabe partygoer this weekend.”
“Oh,” I am ashamed to say I am once again surprised by Wes’ kindness.
This is the second time he’s put in the effort to comfort me, to make sure I’m okay, yet it still feels like a shock to the system. Maybe it’s because I’m not used to the whole having-friends thing. The last three years was me searching for quiet places to escape, trying to isolate myself from the endless strain of loneliness. As dumb as it sounds, I found it easier being alone than being invisible among a group of people.
Having people like Stella and Wes in my life, friends who go out of their way to show they care, feels… unnatural. It’s like I’ve been living in my protective bubble for so long, I’ve forgotten what friendships are supposed to be like.
“I appreciate the check-in, Wes. I’m doing alright, mostly feel guilty for ruining everyone’s weekend. I’m definitely public enemy number one right now.”
Wes nods without hesitation, “Oh, for sure. I wouldn’t be surprised if your name gets changed to She Who Must Not Be Named.” I laugh despite myself.
Other than Stella, I’ve never found anyone so easy to interact with before. It’s as though Wes’ outrageous confidence gives me a safety net; I don’t have to worry my own social skills are lacking because I know the social butterfly next to me will make up for it.
Throwing his arm around the back of the bench, Wes leans back and takes in the scenery. “This place is gorgeous. How did you find it?”
“I took a shortcut after grabbing my textbooks the other day. Aren’t the flowers amazing?”
“They’re incredible. I’ve never seen marigolds so vibrant.” It takes a second for my brain to register the name drop.
“A big flower guy, eh?”
Chuckling, Wes leans in as if to confide a secret, “Don’t tell the boys, but I could name every flower present.”
My jaw drops, “No way.”
“Way, I’ll prove it to you if you want.” Unable to stop myself, I start randomly pointing at different flowers.
“Pansies. Violas. Daisies…” Coming up with a different name for each one, turns out Wes has been a closet plant mom this whole time. Mind you, I have no idea if the names he’s rattling off are real or if he’s making them up. Other than colour differences, the flowers all look the same to me.
Once we go through the entire row lining our stone bench, I finally give the game a rest. “That is amazing. Do you study garden books in your spare time?”
Grinning, Wes shakes his head, “My botanical knowledge is thanks to my younger sister. She’s a garden geek, so every year I give her a different flower for her birthday. Problem is, she started the obsession back when she was five, so I used up the easy ones early on. Now I have to look for three syllable monstrosities and cross check the ongoing list I have.”
I smile at the memory, “I’m sure she looks forward to that every year. How old is she?”
“Turning seventeen this year. There’s only thirteen months between us.” Wes pauses to wipe fake tears from his eyes. “They grow so fast. Soon Lacey will be embarking on her own university adventure.” Laughing, I shake my head. Wes and his theatrics.
Smiling, Wes gently bumps his shoulder into mine. “What about you? Any annoying siblings back home?”
“I’m afraid it’s just me, myself, and I. Although, sometimes my mother acts more like an older sister than my mother.” A playful grin tugs at Wes’ lips.
“Oh, I remember your mother. Still waiting on that number, you know.”
“Oh my god. Don’t be such a creep.” I slap his arm, forgetting my no-touching rule when it comes to Wes.
