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I wasn't sure why I agreed to spend my Thanksgiving with Wes and his family. I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell him I had plans and they didn't involve spending a weekend with a bunch of strangers. I don't know why I didn't. I learned- I forced myself to learn not to say what people want to hear, yet there I was, standing with my bags by my side... Again. This was a very different situation, though.

I met Wes in the parking lot after my classes let out. I had stored my bags and pillow in the trunk of my car that morning so I wouldn't have to go back to my dorm, and I was now loading it into the back of his car.

Wes was wearing comfortable clothes; sweats and a t-shirt. He wasn't shaved and if I was being honest with myself, the dash of facial hair on Wes was an easy turn on. The only other time I'd seen him with facial hair was the day I went to check on him. At that time, I wasn't paying attention to his looks so much as I was trying to keep ourselves together. Now, I wanted to run my fingers across his jaw to his lips.

Vienna, I warned, forcing myself to look away.

After we positioned everything in the trunk so it fit snugly, we both went around the car and I slid into the passenger seat beside him. I smiled at his unkempt hair and clothes. "You look like-"

"Like I'm ready for a road trip?" He graced me with a boyish grin. "I am."

I shook my head in amusement. I wasn't wearing anything fancy but I made sure I looked presentable for when we arrive at his dad's house. I slipped my feet out of my flip flops and leaned back in my seat, getting comfortable for the long ride.

"Oh, and look." Wes leaned between the seats, sticking his arm into the backseat, but that wasn't what distracted me. Wes placed a hand on my thigh, bracing himself as he blindly searched for whatever it was he was looking for. His face was only inches away from mine and it didn't help that he kept breaking eye contact to look at the bottom of my face.

He's so close and he smells really nice.

No, look away, Vienna.

He's looking at your lips.

Stop it, he's not looking at your lips. Look out the window, there's a dog.

Then what is he looking at?

How should you know, Vienna? Maybe you have a pimple. Look at the dog!

I shot my hand up to feel my chin was smooth and acne free right now.

Oh, my god, he's looking at your lips.

Wes finally leaned back after about six long seconds of rummaging through the back seat. He dropped a grocery bag in my lap. "I brought snacks," He grinned wildly.

My shaky hands peeled open the bag and my eyes widened as a laugh bubbled from my throat. "Wow." I dug my hand through the bag, seeing countless bags of chips, chocolates, candies, cookies, and other junk food. "Wow," I said again, looking over at him smiling down at me.

"I came prepared," he grinned, starting the engine and pulling out of the lot. His hometown was Lansdale, Pennsylvania, about a six-hour drive from Bristol, Rhode Island.

Isn't this the girlfriend's role? I asked myself anxiously.

You're not his girlfriend.

Exactly, you shouldn't be doing this.

I was more than uneasy about meeting his family but I had six hours with Wes to prepare myself. The part of my brain that had been taught to only look out for herself was still warning me that I didn't know this boy and I am responsible for looking out for myself. The mindless, human part of my heart, though, the one with morals and a conscience, with want's and desires, told me I should go with Wes. Because I liked Wes. Because the part of me that likes him wouldn't have forgiven myself for walking out on him again. I loathed that part of myself because I had a feeling whose fault it would be when my head finds me heartbroken.

"You can pick some music." He handed me the aux cord.

"Mine's about to die, can I use your phone?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure." Wes lifted his hips off his seat, digging through his front pocket for his phone while trying not to crash the car. When he shimmied it from his pocket, he held it out for me. I grabbed the warm metal and attached the cord. When I turned it on, though, I saw I needed a passcode to get in. I held the screen towards him, over the console.

Wes looks down and said four numbers, "9355."

"Oh," I mumbled with wide eyes. I expected him to quickly type in the passcode, not give it to me. I withdrew the phone and tapped in the code, quickly founding his music app.

You can't hide from him forever.

You can try, Vienna.

He trusts you enough to give you his passcode.

That's not even a big deal.

You wouldn't have given him yours. You should try to keep yourself safe.

But you don't want to keep yourself from him.

Fight.

I pressed shuffle as I scrolled through his playlists and albums. He had a lot of music but most of it wasn't great. "Did I ever tell you my real name?" I asked, knowing the answer. I continued to scroll through his music, trying to avoid his eyes.

He was staring ahead but turned his head to look at me. "No..." He looked shocked and intrigued. His head kept pivoting from me and back to the road in front of us.

"My names not Valley." I set his phone down and dug through my purse for my book.

"Then what the hell is your name?" He asked loudly. It wasn't anger in his voice but it wasn't undisturbed. He seemed jarred by the revelation that Valley isn't my name, that I hadn't given it to him.

"Valley is a nickname my dad gave me for the initials I was supposed to have."

"What's your name?" Wes shifted in his seat. I could tell he was trying hard to keep his eyes on the road.

"Vienna."

"Vienna." He smiled small. I liked the way he said it. It wasn't different from anyone else saying it, I just liked the way it sounded when he voiced it. "Vienna, like the Billy Joel song?" He grinned.

I smiled brightly at him and laughed. "Yeah, most people relate the name to the city, but my dad loved Billy Joel."

"What about the rest of your name? You said the nickname was because of the initials you're supposed to have? What do you mean?" He asked, scrunching his eyebrows together.

"Yeah. Val. V for Vienna. A for Annable because my mother loved Edgar Allan Poe, and L for Larco, my dad's last name. Val."

"That's cute, Vienna. Why didn't you tell me your name?"

I had to remind myself I was supposed to be opening up to Wes now. I gave him my name and I couldn't get edgy if he asked questions. "My dad and his girlfriend were the only ones who called me Valley back home; now just her."

"What'd you mean by-"

I tucked my feet and legs under me and leaned against the window. "The initials I'm supposed to have? My mom named me Vienna Annabel Vargas. Vargas is her last name but I was supposed to get Lacro. She only changed it to spite my dad, but that never stopped him from calling my Valley. I wasn't giving Valley as my name until he died. I legally changed my name and I moved here. It's sort of my way of hiding him but not letting him go, I guess. So don't, like, give it away. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Wes said softly. He smiled at me and turned back to the road, but not before giving my outer thigh a reassuring squeeze. It was a little too close to my butt but I wasn't really complaining.

Complain!

You liked it, admit it.

When he withdrew his hand, he lay it palm up in between us, clearly begging for it to be held.

Don't touch his hand, Vienna.

You weren't going to.

Like hell, you weren't going to.

You weren't.

It was a little over a six-hour drive to Lansdale, Pennsylvania from Bristol, Rhode Island. We passed most of the time in silence, except for the hum of the motor, the occasional food wrapper, the turn of my book pages, and whatever horrible song was playing.

"What even is this, Wes?" I looked up from my story.

"What? It's jazz."

"This is not jazz, Artwood. Coltrain, Goodman, Holliday- that's jazz. This, this is elevator music."

"Don't make fun of my music," he pouted. "That's mean, especially since this is one of my favorite songs."

"Oh my god," I rolled my eyes, going back to my story. "I'm just thankful I brought a book and you brought food to distract me." I pulled out a packet of gummies letting Wes take a few when he'd reach over.

The music may have been awful but Wes made up for it with his adorable head bobbing as he quietly hummed along with the music. And every once in awhile, he would reach over and touch me. He'd tuck back my hair, drag his knuckles across my cheek, squeeze my thigh, or run his hand down my arm. I so badly wanted to pull away, but I was stuck in the car with him and I had nowhere to go. But I also liked the way his touch burned holes through me, and how my throat tightened, and how my stomach erupted in wings. So I absorbed him, pretending to sleep.

You are going to die in this car of confliction.

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A boy about the same size as Wes opened the door before Wes could find his keys. It was a small house, beige with white trim, and a small garden lining the perimeter.

"Hey," the boy said and he and Wes embraced. "I didn't know you were bringing your girlfriend? Nice to-"

"No," I cut him off. "I'm just Valley."

"Oh. I'm Parker, just Wes' brother." We shook hands as the boy eyed Wes with a small smirk.

I took in his features. I never was the best at distinguishing people, their ethnicity, kinship, or emotions. I had always been detached in that sense but now, knowing the relation, I noticed Parker had the same dark hair, brown eyes, and downturned lips with the slight bow as Wes did. His nose was straight, though, and his skin was darker. He also looked neat and put together; Wes was still unshaven, his hair tousled, and he was in a pair of baggy sweats.

He still looks better than Parker.

Slap yourself, Vienna.

I wasn't sure what to say after that so I didn't attempt to say anything. I was grateful when Wes spoke up. "Where's Dad at?" He was already shoving me through the door. I would have slapped him off but we were in front of his family and I was sort of panicking.

Why did you come here? You should have stayed back in your dorm.

"The living room with Aubrey and Aunt Brenda. They just got back from the store. They are going to make us all cook tomorrow," Parker grumbled.

Wes guided me in front of him with a firm hand on my lower back as we walked around a corner. In the living room, a middle-aged man sat in a recliner, and two women on a couch. The man, who I assumed was Wes and Parker's father, stood up to embrace Wes. After they broke apart and Wes greeted the two women, they seemed to notice me standing awkwardly next to Parker.

Wes introduced me this time. "This is Valley. Valley, my dad," he gestured to the man now standing in front of the recliner.

"Dennis," his dad grinned.

"My sister, Aubrey," Wes pointed to a girl with shoulder length, dark hair, "and my aunt, Brenda," a plump woman with short light brown hair.

"Hi," I gave a small wave.

This is definitely the girlfriend's role.

"Are you his girlfriend?" Dennis asked.

"Oh, no. No, just a friend. Wes invited me, I hope that's alright."

"Of course it is. It's been too quiet around here with me and Parker. Glad you could come."

"Thank you for having me," I smiled.

Wes shoved me out of the room. "You're such a kiss ass."

"And you're an ass," I mumbled. "Do you ever tell people when you decide to invite me places?"

"Nope. Parker has the couch and my aunt has the guest room, so you can have my bed and I'll take the floor."

"No. I'm not kicking you off your bed." I shook my head adamantly. "I'll take the floor," I said as we walked into his room and dropped my stuff on the floor. It was a simple room. Shades of green and blue painted walls; a made bed; a desk and some dressers with books and trinkets; and a few pictures and posters on the walls.

"You're not sleeping on the floor." Wes laughed like he thought it was a cute joke.

"Neither are you."

"Yes, Val. I am. Get on the bed." He pulled blankets from his closet and threw them on the floor. "I dragged you here so I'm not going to sentence you to the floor."

"Then I'm on the floor too."

"Why the hell are you so difficult?"

"Because you seem to lack the skill of foresight."

"Fine. We'll both sleep on the bed." He smirked, daring me to say something.

I eyed the full sized bed.

It's pretty big.

Not big enough.

You'll be fine.

No!

Fight.

I stuck my chin out, accepting his challenge. "Fine."

Wes' smile dropped as he stared at me like I had a toe where my nose should be. I didn't back down- though, I should have- and eventually he gave me a shit eating grin. "Don't try anything, Vienna."

Wow, you really do like when he says your name huh?

Shut up.

"I could say the same to you, Artwood," I glowered. "I just have one request," I told him, picking up a picture frame off his dresser, it looked like him and Flynn freshman or sophomore year. They were holding a trophy in between them and basketballs on either side of them as they smile brightly at the camera.

"What's that?"

"I need more pillows. I can't sleep unless I have stuff surrounding me," I said shyly, setting down the adorable picture of the two.

"Sure, Val," Wes smiled.

After I had finished my nightly rituals of changing and readying myself for sleep, I crawled into his bed. Wes walked into the room after he had gotten ready in Parker's room that Aubry was staying in. He tugged off his t-shirt and climbed into the bed next to me.

Oh, my god.

I scooted closer to the wall to give him more space.

You just want to put more space between you two don't you?

Unwanted space.

You should have taken the floor, Vienna.

Fight.

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a/n

Chapter nineteen. There it is. I have to say, I'm very excited for the next few chapters, they were some of my favorites to write xxx

What do you think of the banners? I've added them to every chapter previously and there will be banners in every chapter following. If anyone has anything they'd like to share, my email is in my bio or pm me.

I was also wondering who you guys see playing the characters... I don't really have a cast list because no one has really matched the image I have in my head of Vienna and Wes- or anyone else- but I'm curious to know what y'all have to say.

chapter goal: votes-20 comment-40

Chapter 20 will be posted Wednesday but until then, don't forget to vote, comment, fan, and share (: