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I closed the car door behind me, Wes coming up next to me as we watched Bernard sluggishly climb out of his little truck and shuffle around the front of the hood.

"I haven't seen you in over a week, girl," he said grumpily.

"Hello, Bernard," I said, shaking my head at the old man.

Bernard looked over at Wes who was standing next to me and gave him a once over. I saw his lips twitch under his wiry beard. "Ahh, you left me for a boy," he nodded stiffly. I blushed deeply, avoiding Wes' grin. "I see."

Bernard turned around and climbed the steps of his home he converted into an adorable used bookshop. "Get the bags out of the truck and bring them inside." He dropped the keys from his hand as he climbed the last step, not bothering to look behind him as he continued into his home.

"Why's he so grumpy?" Wes asked after Bernard shut the door behind him.

"Come one," I said, walking over to the keys hanging off a step. I picked them up and made my way over to the passenger seat to pull out bags.

"You visit this guy that often?"

"Didn't you hear him? Not for a week."

"Yeah," Wes nudged my arm, "because you ditched him for me." Wes winked.

I rolled my eyes, comforted by the fact my blush was hidden by my already reddened cheeks due to the cold. "Good job, you won favorite over a grouchy old man. What an accomplishment."

He nudged me playfully. "He is kind of a grouch, though," Wes said lowly.

"Oh, yeah. " I laughed. "He's definitely a peculiar guy. Here." I start filling Wes' hands with bags full of books.

"Wow, how much does this guy read?"

I looked up at Wes to see he was genuinely amazed. "I don't know how you missed it, but his house is also a bookstore." I pointed to a sign on the street reading 'Recycle Book Store'.

"Oh," he laughed awkwardly. 

I grabbed the rest of the bags and bumped the door shut with my hip.
Walking up the front porch with Wes by my side, I struggled to pick up the keys that Bernard so inconsiderately dropped. With Wes' help, I managed to lock his truck and make it into the house without dropping anything. I lead Wes to the room where Bernard sat to take inventory. We set the bags of books down on a long table for him.

"Where did you get all of these?" I asked Bernard.

"People get old, and their idiot kids who don't want to use the brains God gave them." It was clear how he felt about younger people, though, his explanation took a little longer to decipher. I chuckled as did Wes. "So is your friend going to buy any books?"

"Um," Wes said unsurely.

"Yeah, I'll make sure he does," I smiled reassuringly at Bernard and gave Wes a nudge with my elbow to back out.

"Alright. Get out, so I can go through these in peace."

I shook my head at the crabby old man but turned around to leave him be. Wes followed me out of the back room as I made my way to the poetry section of the store. I dragged an old bean bag out of the corner of the room. I brought it in one day because I didn't like sitting on the wood floors when I read.

"You can sit." I motioned to Wes. "I'm gonna browse," I said as I lay down on my stomach, picking through the assortment of paper and hardbacks.

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm." I nodded. 

"He's kind of rude." The bean bag crunched under the weight of Wes.

"No, he's blunt," I defended. "It's only because you don't know him, though. He's just gotta see you a few times before he warms up to you."

"That was kind of like you."

What?

How did you not see that coming, Vienna?

My head swiveled to Wes, who was already staring intently at me.  

"I mean, not that rude. You were more distant than rude."

"But I was rude."

"A tad bit. It took a lot for me to get here," he informed me.

I pursed my lips and turned my head to the shelves.

Does he think it was easy for you?

He better not.

It took a lot more for you to open up to him than it did for him to stick around to hear what you have to say.

"Oh," I mumbled.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that," Wes pleaded.

"I know."

Then how did he mean it, Vienna?

Weren't you telling yourself he likes you?

Yeah, but if he's going to guilt trip you-

Don't be ridiculous. He's not trying to guilt trip you. You're too sensitive.

Wes moved onto his side and leaned over the side of his bean bag chair, coming close to my face. "You can't run away from me."

"It's not you, Wes. Stop making it about you. "

He pursed his lips. "Your past, Val. Stop turning away from it. It's part of you and I understand that, but it's making you flighty and that's not good for you."

"No, you don't. You only understand the basics. You didn't go through the same things I did, and I understand that. I recognize we took different paths but you seem to think we are still supposed to end up in the same place with the same ideas. But that's not how it works."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. Reaching his hand out, he ran his knuckles down my arm soothingly but the heat of his fingers through the fabric of my jacket was scorching. It made my chest tighten and I had to pull away.

Flight.

But I wanted nothing more than to pull him close and hand him every piece of me.

A boy shouldn't be bringing out those feelings, Vienna. No one should. The fact that he makes you want to break down in and of itself is scary.

He doesn't make you want to break down. He makes you want to let your emotions go. He makes you want to open up and let him in. But you keep fighting him.

He's already blown in your doors, what more does he want from you?

"So was Bernard the friend you were talking about? I thought it was someone I'd have to compete with."

"Yeah, I don't actually have friends, you know," I mumbled, uneasily.

"Hey, I'm kidding. And you have me, Valley."

What does that mean?

"Yeah," I said, agreeing without letting too much emotion slip into my voice. I tried my hardest to ignore the burning in my chest at his words.

"Well, don't sound so happy about it, Val."

"You're right," I smiled. "You're a great friend, Wes."

Atta girl put him in his place, Vienna.

Why did you say that you idiot?

"Thanks."

Oh, my god. He grimaced. You made him grimace! Oh no.

He said it first.

I was a test. He wanted you to tell him you two are more than friends.

Well, that wasn't going to happen. Idiot.

I stood up, the tension rising with me. I walked over to another bookshelf across the room and lowered onto my stomach to continue looking. Bernard is always adding to his poetry and horror inventory for me. The second I saw the book I shot up again. The gold leaf, leather-bound book tucked pretty between two older, more tattered looking books. 

"Oh, my god! Bernard!" I pulled the book from its nook and held it out to inspect. "Bernard!"

"What is it?" Wes asked.

I spun around, clutching the leather book to my chest. I closed my eyes in bliss, "The complete collection of H. P. Lovecraft fiction," I mumbled happily.

"Oh my god," Wes drawled.

"What's all the yelling about?" Bernard's disappointed voice yelled from another room.

I cracked my eyes open to look at Wes. "I've been begging Bernard to buy this. It was too expensive for me, but he knows all these great places and he would be able to buy it discounted." I clutched the beauty closer to me. "Bernard!" I yelled again.

"What?" Bernard spit out but his tone didn't faze me. "I love you," I gushed. I ran to him and pulled him into a tight hold, feeling his brittle bones relax in the embrace.

"Are you going to buy it then?" Bernard asked.

"I will," Wes piped up.

"No!" I stepped farther away from Wes, even though he was still across the room. "This is mine."

Wes rolled his eyes at me. "For you, Dork."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," I said quickly.

"I don't give a damn who buys it. As long as I get my money," Bernard said, turning around and walking out of the room.

"Which you definitely are," Wes said as he pulled himself from the grip of the bean bag chair, "a nerd." Wes reached out his hand and I let him take the thick book from my hands. "Have you read most of these stories?"

"I've read them all online but I want them for myself. When I found this edition, I just about fell in love."

I saw Wes' eyes dart up to mine, before quickly looking back down at the book. "It is pretty."

"Yeah," I said, gingerly tugging the book from him. "It's mine." 

"I'm buying your cute, little, dorky ass that book and you're going to love me for it."

My eyes widened at his words. I couldn't care less about him when we met. Wes was just another college boy at a party. Then he wasn't and then I cared. Now, all I wanted to do was care less. He was becoming a constant in my life and I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but I knew it wasn't something I could run away from easily. 

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a/n

alright chapter 17 is up and like part one, part two isn't edited or checked, so if you find any inconsistencies, please point them out. 

Hope you enjoyed. be sure to vote, comment any thoughts, fan, and share if you feel so inclined.