Wes and Toren (12 page)

“Yes, sir,” Wesley said, and then sucked hard on me until I came in his mouth and down his throat, which didn’t actually take too long.

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I panted and gasped for air, Wesley bracing me and keeping me from toppling over. I held to his arms and sighed, the world slowly coming back to me.

“Oh God…I thought I was gonna die,” I whispered. I took deep breaths, remembering the fevered sensations, and reached my hand out to the top of Wesley’s blue jeans and the bulge pushing out just beneath.

Wesley held my hand steady and shook his head.

He pulled me to my feet and kissed me deeply. “Let’s go back to your place.”

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J. M. Colail

IT was unseasonably warm for mid-June and the auditorium wasn’t air-conditioned. The ceremony was needlessly long and rather boring. By the end, everyone in the audience used their programs as fans and from the stage, it looked like a whole bunch of giant, white butterflies. I felt dizzy from the heat, but I managed to walk all the way across the stage without tripping. I fingered the rolled sheet of paper with the red ribbon tied around it while the closing remarks were being made.

Outside, students gathered with their families, but the warm, summer breeze didn’t offer much relief. Mom took nearly a whole roll of film before she even let me take off the polyester cap and gown. Alycia flitted around, chatting with her friends in the graduating class until she found Wesley.

I blushed at the sight of him. He wore gray dress pants and a white, short-sleeve, button-down shirt with a black and gray striped tie. He looked really cute, even though his shoes didn’t match and his hair was all over the place. He seemed a little awkward in that kind of outfit, which made him all the cuter.

He smiled and walked over to me, giving me a brief, platonic hug.

He laughed and whispered in my ear, “Finally, the end of the oppressive education machine.” Then, he leaned a little closer. “You look really cute today.”

I smiled and patted his back the way a friend would, then greeted Mr. and Mrs. Carroll. Wesley introduced his parents to Mom and Alycia and then he introduced his brother, who drove in from Pennsylvania just Wes & Toren

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to surprise him. I was excited to meet him; Wesley mentioned that he had a brother, but he didn’t talk about his family much.

Scott was taller than Wesley was and thicker with muscle; he had a football player’s physique and a cute, boyish face. He looked every bit the three years older than Wesley that he was, but I may have mistaken that for maturity. He seemed genuinely excited to see his brother, but Wesley seemed rather indifferent.

Mom pushed me next to Wesley and pulled out her camera again.

She made us put our caps and gowns back on and then took another dozen pictures. Wesley put his arm around my shoulders and when his parents weren’t looking, he slid his hand around my waist.

“Oh! We’re going out for dinner to celebrate. Wanna come with us?” Alycia asked giddily. She tried to make it sound like she just thought of it, but I could tell by her smile that she had planned on asking.

Mom didn’t miss a beat either. “Oh, what a good idea! Yes, we’d love if you’d join us,” she chimed in, smiling broadly.

“That sounds like fun,” Mrs. Carroll answered, clapping her hands together. “Sure, we’d love to!” She looked at Mr. Carroll, who remained solemn but agreed.

While our parents were discussing restaurant options, Jen and Olivia ran toward us, calling Wesley’s name. Jen bumped into me as she put her arm around Wesley. She glared at me briefly then whispered

“sorry” with an edge of sarcasm. I stepped to the side as Olivia focused her camera on Wesley and Jen. Wesley glanced over at me and rolled his eyes and I felt a pang of jealousy as Jen wound her arm around Wesley’s waist.

Alycia nudged me with her elbow, then crossed her arms and furrowed her brows. “Just who the hell does she think she is?” She tossed me a look from the corner of her eye and I couldn’t help but smile at her vicarious jealousy. “Hey, Wes! We’re leaving for dinner now!”

Alycia called, staring directly at Jen.

Wesley smiled and with a flick of his hand dismissed Jen and Olivia. Jen called out after him, telling him that they should get together soon. Wesley waved over his shoulder without looking back. Alycia 88

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pushed me into Wesley and he laid his hand on my shoulder. Alycia grinned at Jen and, with a sense of satisfaction, we left for dinner.

The restaurant was a fancy, Italian place with real cloth napkins, water goblets, and tons of silverware. Two tables were pushed together to accommodate the seven of us and Wesley sat next to me. He took my hand under the table and I couldn’t pull away without everyone noticing, so I accepted it and rested our hands in my lap. Mom and Alycia sat next to Wesley and me and Mr. and Mrs. Carroll and Scott sat across the table. Mrs. Carroll ordered an appetizer for all of us and we chatted awkwardly while waiting for our food. Fortunately, Mom and Alycia realized that Wesley’s parents didn’t know about us and so were on their best behavior.

“So, Toren, where are you gonna go to school?” Mrs. Carroll asked, breaking a long silence.

“I’ve been accepted at the University,” I answered quietly. Wesley squeezed my hand proudly under the table.

“Good for you! Have you thought about a major then?” she followed up.

“I…I’m thinking about History. Or education. I’d like to be a History teacher,” I said.

“That sounds interesting. You know, the project the two of you worked on for History class was really good. It was pretty interesting,”

she complimented, glancing and smiling at Mom who nodded appreciatively. “Now that I think about it, Wes’s grades have gotten better since you became friends. If only you’d met as freshmen!” she said, lighting one of her ultra-slim cigarettes. Wesley’s hand tightened around mine and I looked down self-consciously. “I saw that you graduated with honors. That means you had at least a 3.5 GPA, right?”

I nodded my head, but Mom piped up proudly. “3.6, right?” she asked, looking at me. I nodded again.

“You know, Scott graduated with a 3.8 and now he’s in a big engineering program at a university in Pennsylvania. He tried for lots of scholarships and grants and won a few of them. His education is basically paid for. If you want, I’m sure he’ll help you find scholarships Wes & Toren

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and stuff. Right, Scott? We tried with Wes, but with a 2.5, there’s only so much open.”

“2.8. Not that it matters,” Wesley interrupted quietly, looking down at his lap.

“What?”

“I have a 2.8, not a 2.5,” he said. His grip on my hand slackened and he stared into his lap. I squeezed his hand and he looked up at me.

“Well, anyway, Scott, you should write down some of the scholarships for Toren, and then he can look them up.”

The rest of the dinner passed slowly. The food was good but I didn’t really taste it. I was concerned about Wesley; he didn’t say much for the rest of the meal. Mrs. Carroll extolled Scott’s achievements proudly and Scott modestly brushed it off as no big deal.

After the bill was paid, we said good night and went our separate ways. Wesley told me that he’d come over after he changed his clothes.

“Boy, that Cindy Carroll is kind of a handful,” Mom commented on the way home.

“Yeah, what was her deal? She kept harping on Wes about everything,” Alycia agreed, turning around in the front seat to look at me in the back.

I felt a little better, hearing Mom and Alycia, because I realized that I wasn’t just being oversensitive about Wesley. I stared out the window, watching the old, blue Taurus’s fleeting reflections in storefront windows. I didn’t really like Mr. Carroll, but I thought Mrs. Carroll was nice. Now my opinion was changing and I didn’t like it. Was this what Wesley always went through at home?

“If I ever compare the two of you like that, tell me right away,”

Mom demanded.

WESLEY came over at a little past eight. When I ran to the car, I saw Scott sitting in the front seat. I was kind of excited; I wanted to talk to him. Like Wesley, he seemed reserved in front of his parents. But I was 90

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also a little disappointed; it meant I wouldn’t be able to kiss Wesley tonight.

“Hey, Toren. Congrats on graduating. I figured that since I’m the only one old enough to buy beer, I should come along. Hope you don’t mind,” Scott said casually. I smiled; he just said more than he had all during dinner.

“No, that’s okay,” I answered. Wesley glanced back at me from the driver’s seat.

We decided to go to Cue again because there wasn’t much else to do. Scott walked in the front door and whistled.

“Man, same shithole I remember from when I was in high school,”

he said with a laugh. “You go get a table and I’ll get us a pitcher,” he said, walking toward the bar.

As expected, Kate and Lissa called to us and we went over to say hi. They congratulated us on graduating and complained that they still had a year to go. A moment later, Scott came up with a pitcher and three glasses.

“No way! Are you tryin’ for a three-way?” Kate asked with a loud laugh. Scott looked at Wesley with a raised eyebrow and grinned. Kate smiled and introduced Lissa and herself to Scott. “Hey, you didn’t bring enough glasses for us!” she whined.

“Well, there’s nothing I like better than buying drinks for underage girls, but…I’ll let you share with me,” Scott compromised flirtatiously. I realized then just how similar Scott and Wesley were.

“You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree there, chief,” Wesley said nonchalantly, leaning over the table and lining up his break.

Scott smiled and laughed, raising his hands up in an “I surrender”

motion and stepped back. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know I was stepping on your toes.”

Lissa stepped forward and I grinned. “Actually, it’s
my
toes that you’re stepping on,” she said with a smile, sliding her hand around Kate’s waist.

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Kate grinned and actually blushed a little. “Yeah, I’m spoken for.”

“Oh.
Oh
,” Scott said laughing, turning his beer around in his hands.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend anyway?” Wesley asked.

Scott nodded happily. He looked puzzled and leaned toward Wesley with his hand shielding his mouth. “Then, what’d she mean by the three-way thing?”

Wesley looked at Scott with a serious expression. My stomach tightened. “She meant us,” he said, nodding his head toward me.

“Toren’s my boyfriend.”

“Wh-what?” Scott stuttered, his eyes wide. Then his face broke into a smile. “You gotta be kidding. You’ve got one weird sense of humor, man.”

“I’m not joking,” Wesley said, his expression still serious. He twirled the pool cue in his hand. “We’re gay. He’s my boyfriend.”

Scott looked at me and my face was bright red. I couldn’t discern the look on his face. I said Wesley’s name quietly and felt my heart thumping fiercely.

“Oh, come on! Your sister knows, so I should be able to tell my brother,” Wesley said comically, trying to calm my nervousness.

Scott stared at us and I wasn’t sure if I felt like running away or going up and kissing Wesley just to prove it. Scott crossed his arms and smiled triumphantly. “All right. Then, kiss him.”

I stared at Scott blankly. Wesley grinned. Scott waited. I shook my head.

Wesley laughed defeatedly and closed his eyes. “Toren’s not exactly out yet, so how about later?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Scott said, pouring another glass of beer. “Let’s just shoot some pool.”

We played a couple of games and Scott drank nearly two pitchers by himself, with a little help from Kate and Wesley. When he couldn’t line up a shot anymore, Wesley decided it was time to call it quits. Scott finished off the pitcher and Lissa and Kate walked us out.

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When we got to the car, Wesley spun around, pulled me into his arms, and kissed me so hard I felt it in my toes. He held me steady and grinned at Scott who stared at us with wide eyes.

“Shit. You really weren’t kidding,” he slurred, opening the side door and dropping into the passenger seat.

Wesley smiled at me and kissed me again, gently, before opening the door for me.

“Wow. That was kinda hot,” Kate whispered, loudly enough for us to hear. Lissa nodded in agreement. I guess that was the first time they actually saw us kiss. I smiled lightly; it felt like another milestone in our relationship. At least a half-milestone.

We started out for home, but somewhere along the way, Scott complained that he was hungry and needed coffee. We ended up at a 24-hour restaurant, sitting in the smoking section, and being stared at by Scott who sat across the table from us.

“You know, seriously, I half-expected to come home and find out that you knocked up some poor chick. I really wasn’t expecting this,”

Scott said, sipping his coffee and eating french fries by the handful.

“But, hey, at least you don’t have to worry about that!” he added, staring at me. He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “I’m assuming that you’re the “girl,” right?”