Author's Note: So, this is one of my favorite chapters in the entire story, I think, so I hope that you guys like it. Also, it's the longest so far. Notice the picture over to the side because I just think it's really cute. Also, notice the song, please, because it is just precious. Like, the original is great, but the one over there is like, the definition of perfect. Don't forget to comment and vote, please. I'll see you lovely individuals Tuesday.

Chapter 26: I Was Just Thinking About Ostriches

“Steffy, your boyfriend is here,” Spencer informs me a few minutes later, knocking on my door and stepping in.

“Okay, thanks Spence,” I say shakily, standing to my feet. Why am I nervous? There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s just a date, after all.

“Have fun, Stef,” Spencer tells me, grinning slightly before nodding at Anna Grace and Laurel and backing out of my bedroom.

“You know, you kind of have the best brother ever,” Anna Grace notes, standing up from my bed. 

“Yeah, he’s pretty wonderful,” I truthfully reply, crossing the room over to my bedroom door, precariously.

My legs are pretty numb seeing as how I’ve been sitting down for a while, so when I walk, tingles shoot through them. It feels so funny to walk in flats, because, like I said, I usually only wear high heels. I mean, yeah, sometimes I wear Sperry’s and Toms, but they’ve got a lot more support than flats have. I pull my bedroom door open and step out, taking a deep breath. I walk out of my bedroom, Anna Grace and Laurel behind me and stop into Spencer’s room to bid Carly and Madison goodbye.

They’ve been in there with Spence for quite sometimes talking about only God knows what. They wish me good luck and Laurel and Anna Grace accompany me down the corridor to the living room, which is, thankfully, empty of either of my parents or grandmother. That luck runs out all too soon though, because my dad walks into the living room from the kitchen a few mere seconds later with a ceramic bowl of some sort and the daily newspaper in his hands.

“Well, you’re looking mighty pretty today; what’s got you all dressed up? Who’re your friends?” My father pipes, sitting down in the armchair and turning the television onto the ESPN Sports channel. The only good thing, I’ve noticed, about us going broke for my father is that he genuinely seems a lot happier now. Like, he’s old, but he doesn’t look as weary as he did when he was controlling Vandergeld Industries. When he still had his company, he’d have to take long— sometimes months at a time— business trips and miss holidays, which was hard on Spence and me when we were children. Surely he doesn’t particularly favor the situation that was thrust upon us, but I think that the two months we’ve been here have been good for him. He’s not as stressed I don’t think and we don’t have to worry about him suddenly having a work-related heart attack or anything scary like that. Not that he didn’t love his job, because I know that he really, really did.

“Hey daddy,” I reply, trying to keep my voice calm and wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. I really need to get this whole thing under control because I’m freaking out about this way too much. “I’m going on a date with my boyfriend tonight,” I explains, clearing my throat. “And this is Laurel and Anna Grace,” I expound, gesturing to each of them. “Madison and Carly are here too— with Spencer.” I add.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you girls,” He replies, nodding to my friends and giving them small smiles. “Did you just say ‘boyfriend’? Since when do you have a boyfriend, little missy?” My dad asks, his eyes narrowed at me as he looks away from the TV, the reporters talking about some kind of basketball game. Or maybe it’s football. Or soccer. I don’t know. I know literally nothing about any sports aside from softball since I played it for a very short amount of time. My dad’s not really mad at me for not telling him about Wesley, I know that, he doesn’t get mad over dumb stuff like that. Over protective? Sure, just like any regular father, but he doesn’t get upset with me when I keep things from him.

“We only started dating like, a week ago,” I tell my dad with what I hope comes off as a nonchalant shrug. “I was going to tell you guys.”

“Well,” My dad sighs heavily, placing his bowl on the coffee table and opening the newspaper. “Don’t you think that I should met him?”

“Yeah, no, that won’t be necessary, daddy. I’m gonna go now. I love you and I’ll see you later. Kisses,” I quickly retort, pulling the front door open and pushing the weird screen door thing open. As I step out of the front door, I see my adorable boyfriend standing there, and he whirls around, looking down at me. He was facing the other way at first, his back to the front door, but I’m not quite sure why.

I’m surprised that he actually came to the door, because I didn’t really think that he’d have gotten out of his car. Samuel (or any of my other boyfriends, for that matter) ever did that for me. I literally mean that they never did. They’d usually all just honk their car horns or text or something once they got here. All of the guys I’ve dated prior to Wesley though, have been rather wealthy like my family was so they’d usually have drivers, and they’d get their drivers to come to the door and get me, which is really stupid.

I mean, the job of a driver is to drive, not escort. Like, Marvin? Our old security guy? I’d have never asked him to get a boy for me. Then again, he wasn’t our driver, he was the security dude, but still. Not to mention the fact that my boyfriend’s hardly took me out on dates, but still. Before my father can come outside and intervene, demanding to meet Wesley, I close the front door, whispering a nervous and anxious goodbye to the girls and clear my throat, turning back around to Wesley. He’s looking down at me with a curious expression on his face, but also a small smile.

“Hey there,” Wesley greets, giving me a subtle (not as subtle as he was going for, I don’t think) onceover and smiling. “You look, um, really nice,” He compliments.

“Thanks,” I squeak, a girlish giggle escaping my lips without my permission. I awkwardly shuffle my feet on the porch and reply with, “I should though; Anna Grace, Madison, Laurel and Carly all kind of took me as their hostage and did everything.”

“Well, they did a good job,” He says. “But, yeah, you have extremely weird friend,” My boyfriend observes, reaching down and grabbing my slightly sweaty hand in his. I guess that’s an inaccurate statement. My whole hand isn’t sweating, obviously, just my palm, and it’s not exactly sweating, it’s more like, really, really clammy. Wesley interlaces our fingers together and I silently pray that he can’t detect the clamminess of my hand, because I think that that’s really weird and unusual. He leads me down the driveway thing and across the yard to the street where he parked his blue pickup truck.

“Yes, but they’re pretty cool,” I chirp, letting him lead me to the passenger side of the truck. “What, am I driving you truck again?” I ask.

“Sure, if you want to,” He says, pulling the squeaky door open. “I was just trying to be a gentleman and open the door for you, though.”

“Oh, right,” I nod, my face going red. “Yeah, I-I knew that,” I lie evasively, sliding into the passenger seat and pulling my seatbelt on.

“Yeah, I’m sure you did, baby,” Wesley teases, kissing my cheek before closing the door behind me. Wesley walks around the front of the truck and then opens the driver’s side door and gets in. He clips his seatbelt into place and then starts the truck, putting it into gear and driving away from my grandmother’s house. “How’s your day been so far?” He wonders casually, glancing over at me briefly.

“I’m…good,” I confirm, thinking about it for a second. “Nervous, but good,” I add, reaching forward and pushing the radio button.

“Nervous?” Wesley echoes, turning the radio down a little bit, successfully ruining my plans of just having of listen to music so that I won’t accidently say something stupid to embarrass myself. And it’s not like I’m actually stupid or embarrass easily or anything, but Wesley just has this effect on me that makes me crazy, I think.

“Just because, I dunno, I never really go out on dates with guys, I guess,” I admit sheepishly.

“Are you trying to tell me that this is your first date, Steffy?” Wesley interrogates, looking over at me as we cruise down the road.

“Well, not exactly,” I sigh, twirling a lock of my hair around my finger absentmindedly. “Samuel took me out like, twice, but we never really called them dates. Usually we’d just hang out at either of our houses or something. And my other boyfriends also kind of sucked, so I didn’t go out a lot with them. I think that I’m just gonna call this my first real date, though,” I explain.

“Whatever works for you,” He chuckles. “I mean, we could always go to my house, you know, if you really want to. I don’t have a mansion though, as you know and my little brother and sister are bound to be there, constantly annoying us because they’re just annoying people. Meredith misses you though,” He adds the last part about the cat just to tease me though.

“I don’t care that you don’t have a mansion, I mean, neither do I,” I giggle. “You really are a mean big brother though. Adeline and Aiden are adorable and if you don’t agree, well, then you’re entitled to your wrong opinion, but it’s wrong. And don’t lie to me, your cats hates me and I know it,” I giggle.

“Oh hush, Meredith doesn’t hate you. She loves you,” He assures me.

“Well, if that’s love, then I’d hate to piss her off and make her hate me,” I mumble.

“You’re just stubborn; maybe if you held her more, she’d be more affectionate,” Wesley suggests.

“Hmm, maybe,” I shrug. “I dunno, but like I said, cats are weird and I’m not going to hold it. It’s too weird.”

“Did you just refer to my cat as an ‘it’?” Wesley laughs, turning the radio back up so that it’s slightly higher than background noise level.

“I sure did,” I confirm with a chuckle. “I don’t know, I guess I’m more of a dog person,” I explain, crossing my right leg over my left, attempting to make them wake up, so to speak because they feel really, really weird and tingly since they’re like, asleep or whatever.

“Well, that’s understandable. Let me guess, you like Chihuahuas, don’t you?”

“Actually, no, Chihuahuas are really, really weird looking and yappy and just weird.” I deny, shivering involuntarily. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason. I’ve just seen Beverly Hills Chihuahuas, that’s all,” Wesley explains, giving me a teasingly grin as he stops at a light.

“Oh, ha, ha,” I reply, punching him in his shoulder. My hand is pretty small though, so I know it has no effect on him, “You’re hilarious.”

“I know, right? I definitely should just not go to college and become a stand-up comedian.”

“For sure,” I jokingly agree. “You can totally be the next Chris Rock or something like that,” I giggle.

“Exactly! See, it’s a perfect plan. Then I’ll become a millionaire and yeah, it’ll be all good.”

“I do hope your endeavors work out for you then,” I note. “Seriously though, what do you wanna be when you grow up?”

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe I’ll be like, a surgeon or something.”

“A surgeon?” I repeat, giving him a wide-eyed look. “That’s such a weird profession.”

“How’s that weird?” He wonders, giving me a comical look.

“I mean, they cut people up for a living. Usually it’s to save their life, but it’s weird, nonetheless.”

“It is a really weird profession,” Wesley agrees. “I mean, I don’t wanna brag or anything, but when I was a kid, I was kind of a beast at that Dr. Operation came, so you know, I think that’s fate’s way of telling me to do that with my life,” He tells me completely serious.

“Oh, that board game? The one that would vibrate you when you touched the metal?” I wonder, looking over at my adorable boyfriend.

“That’s the one,” He chuckles.

“Well, then if you were good at if then of course you have to be a surgeon. No question about it,” I giggle.

“I’m glad you see my point of view on these types of things,” Wesley says with a soft laugh. “No, but if I don’t do that, I think I’ll maybe be an optometrist or check.” He explains.

“An optometrist? Like, they eye doctor people?” I wonder curiously, looking out of my window, trying to get a hint of where it is Wesley’s taking me, but the only thing that’s outside is a bunch of big stupid trees and big stupid birds. Birds are stupid and I hate them so much.

“Yeah, that’s what my dad did, you know, before he went to prison,” He calmly explicates.

“I didn’t know that, that’s cool,” I reply. “Speaking of which, how did that visit go? When your mom and brother and sister went, I mean.”

“She says that it went really well, so I guess it did. He’s supposed to be getting out next year, at least, that’s  what they’re telling him.”

“Are you happy about that?” I wonder, wanting to be a supportive and understanding girlfriend and all of that good stuff.

“Not really, I mean, he went to jail two years ago. We’ve made it this far without him, we don’t need him. Then again, I’m going to college next year, and my mom will be all alone with the twins, unless I go to college close to home and just stay at the house. So, if he does come home, the only good thing that will come from it is him being able to actually be a father to his kids. His little kids, anyway.”

“I know that you don’t, um, you know, like talking about him, but you can. You know, if you ever want to,” I offer. “I’m a good listener.”

“Thanks,” He clears his throat and nods thankfully. “Anyway though, let’s talk about you now. So, you’re actually going to be a model?”

“That’s the plan,” I confirm with a firm nod. “I wanna be a Victoria’s Secret Angel,” I truthfully tell him.

“Well, I think you can definitely do it,” Wesley tells me, looking over at me. “Maybe you should like, go to school first though.”

“Yeah, maybe. I probably won’t though. I mean, I haven’t applied anywhere and I’m not motivated enough to work hard in school so that I can get scholarships, so I probably won’t go. Unless after I become a successful, Barbara Palvin status model, then I’ll have enough money and I’ll go to college.”

“Alright, well, I have no idea who that is, but I’m sure it’ll all work out for you.”

“You don’t know who Barbara Palvin is?” I ask in incredulously shock. “What, do you live on Saturn?”

“Yep, I definitely live on the planet Saturn. I made a special intergalactic trip here just to take you on this date though.”

“Aw, well don’t you make me feel special,” I say, battling my eyelashes at him.

“That’s because you are special,” Wesley informs me matter-of-factly.

✈✈✈✈

“What’s in Ashdown?” I wonder about fifteen minutes later as Wesley exits the freeway into a town called Ashdown.

“The place where we’re going first,” He informs me with a grin. I almost ask him again what it is we’re gonna do or at least we’re we are gonna go, but I know that he’s not going to tell me, so I elect not to waste my time and breath and just sit back, looking out the window.

“Are we close to it?” I ask him, noticing that this town is really, really small and there’s like, no other cars. I mean, there is other cars driving with us and stuff, but far less than you’d see in Nashville or any other big town, really.

“Yeah, just a few more minutes,” Wesley promises.

True to his world, about ten minutes later, Wesley pulls into some sort of large parking lot. Looking out of the window, I see that there’s a few other cars around as well, but they all really just look like they broke down or something and their owners left them here. Wesley turns his truck off and pulls the keys out of the ignition and while he’s doing that, I make sure to unclick my seatbelt and get out before he can come around and open the door for me. Not that I don’t mind him opening the door for me, because that’s such a gentleman-y thing to do. Which is a little weird since neither Samuel nor Scoot or any of my prior boyfriends could exactly win the ‘gentleman of the year’ award. Anyways though, I just don’t want him to feel like he has to or anything, Wesley, that is, obviously.

Wesley gives me a teasing glaring look but walks around the front of the truck, grabbing my hand in his. He leads me up to the front of the building before us and I look around subtly, trying to see what exactly this place is. As we reach the front of the building, I notice that it’s not particularly a large building, it’s actually rather small. Like a ticket booth type thing. I notice that there’s no one behind it, the booth, leading me to believe that the place is either closed or free.

“I’m so confused right now,” I giggle, anxiously twisting my hair around my finger of my free hand.

“I’m not surprised; you always seem to be surprised, like, always.” Wesley teases, winking playfully at me.

“Oh hush your face up,” I tell him with another girly giggle. Wesley leads me through the gate thing and that’s when it hits me what this place is. It’s a golf course. A closed golf course. At nighttime. That’s a little strange, but I really hope Wesley’s big surprise isn’t gold—  especially if it’s not mini golf because I’m disgusting at golf. I mean, seriously. My dad and Spencer played it a whole lot together at the Bayside Country Club in Los Angeles. I never did though, I’d just drive their golf cart around and tote them to all the different holes and that’s just because it’s really cool to drive a golf cart.

“What a weird expression,” Wesley notes as we walk across the trimmed green grass.

“What a weird accent you have,” I reply, noting the way he says ‘weird’. Not normally like I say it. He says it like, weeeird. Like, he stresses the ‘e’, if that makes any sense. It’s really cute though.

“My accent ain’t weird, your accent’s the weird one,” He counters with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, whatever, Wesley,” is my response.

“Okay, so, I’m aware that this is literally going to make me look like the biggest cheese ball in Tennessee, wait, actually, in America. Not even just America, but on the whole planet of Earth. You know, now that I think of it, not just the Earth, but also maybe the whole entire Milky Way. Y— ”

“I get it,” I laugh, punching his arm playfully.

“I’m just saying,” He defends, raising his hand that’s not holding mine in surrender. “And I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving, actually,” I complain, swinging our interlaced fingers as we continue to walk. I don’t know what he’s getting so embarrassed about, I mean, I don’t see anything but the golf course all around us and my vision is like, better than okay. I’m sure he’s overreacting anyway and whatever it is he has planned is adorable.

“Good,” Wesley breathes, licking his lips a bit anxiously. “See what you did? Now your nervousness is rubbing off on me,” He claims.

“Oh, yeah, go ahead—  blame the girlfriend,” I reply, shaking my head at him. “Are we much farther from it?” I query.

“No, just a few more steps,” He assures me as we continue to walk. As we do, the lights near the front of the golf course fade and suddenly we’re in complete darkness. I don’t question it though. Instead, I keep walking with him until he all of a sudden stops. “Ready?”

“I think I was born ready,” I giggle.

“That’s such a positive attitude,” Wesley says, then clears his throat rather loudly. Just then, there’s a spotlight—  don’t ask me where it came from, because I have no idea, but there’s a spotlight and it illuminates the crunchy green grass about two steps away from where we’re standing. Glancing down, my mouth drops when I see that there’s a checkered red and white blanket splayed out over the grass. There’s a thin stack of paper plates and two empty glasses. There’s also two candles in holders—  unlit of course—  and a brown picnic basket in the very center of the blanket thingy.

“Oh my gosh,” I say, looking over at Wesley, who’s blushing slightly. “This is so adorable.”

“So you don’t completely hate it? I mean, Madison said it’d be nice but Carly thought it was, ah, ‘buttery’ or something.”

“It’s beautiful,” I exclaim, shaking my head. I internally slap myself once I feel tears well up in my eyes. I use my free hand and start fanning my eyes to get the tears to dry and disintegrate before they can fall and ruin my make-up that took oh so long to finish.

“Don’t tell me you’re crying,” Wesley says, bumping his shoulder into mine.

“No,” I reply firmly. “I’m not crying, but if I were, they’d be happy tears,” I add, wiping a stray tear before it rolls down my cheek.

“Alright then,” He laughs. “Come on, let’s sit down.” He suggests, sitting down and pulling me down with him.  

“So who did this all?” I wonder, crossing my legs up the ankle so as not to like, flash my boyfriend.

“Well, I did most of it, but Ben and Conrad helped,” Wesley tells me.

“Well, that’s awfully nice,” I reply, eyeing the picnic basket. “Now, let’s eat, because I’m starving,” I inform him.

“You’re always starving, aren’t you?”

“You know me so, so well,” I coo, batting my mascara-ed eyelashes at him.

Wesley laughs and pulls the picnic basket over to him, “It’s not the calamari and escargot, you’re used to,” He warns.

I giggle and crinkle my nose in distaste, “I happen to hate both calamari and escargot very, very much.”

“Then I guess I’m lucky,” He chuckles, pulling open the picnic basket and starting to pull the food out. Most of it is normal picnic foods that you’d expect. Little bite-sized fruits and stuff like that. He also has a bunch of little Summer Rolls—  which are kind of the best things ever, mini pizzas on pitas, and little various foods on those pointy skewer things. Wesley even went to the liberty of bringing enough different kinds of chocolate to make you an overnight diabetic, though I’m pretty sure that’s not possible, but with the amount of chocolate he brought, I don’t know. Then of course, there’s what Wesley calls ‘Sparkling Cider’ because he didn’t want either of us to be either tipsy or drunk for the next part. “And Nutella. Apparently girls really like Nutella. At least, that’s what Anna Grace told me,” Wesley says sheepishly.

“Nutella is nice,” I confirm, nodding my head. “I’m not quite as crazy about it as the rest of the world seems to be, but I like it.” I take the jar from Wesley’s hands and pop it open, taking a spoon out of the basket and scooping some up. I was going to just eat off of my finger, but I think that I would have been a bit too suggestive, if you know what I mean.

So we eat, Wesley and me. I’m greedy and Wesley’s a guy, so it’s like, in his genes to never leave a plate clean, so we eat nearly everything he brought along. Aside from the Nutella though, because it’s a new jar and I don’t think that anyone can just sit up and eat a whole jar of anything in one sitting, that is. And when I’m too stuffed to put anything else in my mouth, I look over at Wesley and find him looking at me intently.

“What, is there chocolate on my face?” I ask, raising my hand and whisking at my face.

“Nope,” He shakes his head puts the bottle of Sparkling Cider back into the basket. “There’s nothing on your face, I was just looking.”

“You’re creepy,” I say, only teasing, obviously. Of course he’s not creepy, he’s actually really, really adorable.

“Well, you had to look at me to know that I was looking at you, so there,” Wesley defends, scooting across the blanket and over to me. “You know, the second part does start until 9:00,” He says, looking down at his cell phone. “That’s fifteen minutes from now, but the place is really, really close.”

“Mr. James, what is it that you’re trying to insinuate we do?”

Wesley gets really close to my face then, a small smile etched on his lips. “I think you know exactly what I’m trying to insinuate, Miss Vandergeld,” He retorts in a throaty whisper, placing his lips on my softly.

Like I said, I like Wesley, I really, really do, and call me conceited, but I know that he really, really likes me, but I mean, we’re on a golf course; we aren’t actually gonna do anything more than kissing and innocent groping. Can groping be innocent? I think that it can be, because what Wesley and I’ve been doing is particularly naughty, not on his part at least. After a while of passionately making out there in the green, Wesley hesitantly pulls away from me and lets his forehead rest against mine.

“Okay, I think if we don’t leave now, we’ll miss it,” He sighs, standing up and reaching down to grab my hand and help me up after blowing the candles out. It’s kinda funny actually, since I’m so full right now. I feel like what I imagine and ostrich must feel like when it tries to walk. Because I don’t know if you’ve ever seen one of those things but they’re very large and they’re very ugly and they always look very bloated. I laugh out loud unintentionally at the thought as Wesley and I are walking back towards the exit and he looks at me with a questioning look. “What’s funny?” He wonders, a glow of that same soft smile on his face.

“Nothing,” I deny, erupting a few giggles. “I was just thinking about ostriches,” I admit.

“Thinking about ostriches? And I’m the weird one? I think not,” He laughs.

“No, you’re still the weird one, I simply have my moments,” I defend teasingly.  

“Okay, sweetie, if that’s what you need to believe” Wesley replies, kissing the side of my head.

“So, what’s the other place?” I ask him after we’ve casually crossed the parking lot as if we didn’t just have a super romantic, but probably illegal dinner on a golf course. Like before, Wesley opens the passenger side door for me and I climb in, pulling the seatbelt on over my stuffed stomach. Wesley goes around the front of the truck and then gets into the driver’s seat before answering.

“If you wait just a few more minutes, you’ll see,” He promises me as he starts his truck and pulls out of the parking lot to the main road.

“I’m not a very patient girl,” I sing, looking out of the window.

“Yeah, I haven’t noticed,” Wesley sarcastically remarks. “Just like, four more minutes though.”

“I’ll be counting them,” I jokingly warn.

Something like four minutes later though, Wesley pulls into a stadium of some sort that has a dirt parking lot. There’s a bunch of other cars here too though, so I’m not really sure what it could be. A concert, I guess. That’d be weird though because we don’t really talk about the music that we like. I guess it could be one of those Monster Truck Jamboree things, but I don’t know, because the people that are getting out of their cars now and walking up to the front look relatively normal and not into that kinda stuff. Wesley and I get out and grab hands again as we walk up to the front.

“Well, whatever it is, you seem really happy about,” I observe, noticing him smiling his perfect smile.

“Yeah, this thing only comes like, two times a year. And this is the first time this year, so I’m kinda excited,” He admits.

“I’m sure I’ll love it then, if it’s something that you like,” I chirp.

“I think you will,” Wesley agrees, his voice peppy. When we get to the front of the place, Wesley hands a tall lady behind the window two tickets and she rips the studs off, giving them back to us. She tells us to ‘enjoy the show’, which makes me all the more curious as to what this is exactly. Wesley leads me away from the ticket booths and we stand behind a curtain but he does pull it back to go into the stadium just yet. “Don’t freak out when you see this, okay? This is just the practice round because we still have like, five minutes.”

“Why would I freak out?” I wonder, stepping forward and pulling back the velvet curtain. I yelp in surprise when I see that there’s an actual bull there. I mean a real live bull. A huge black and white spotted bull that, by the way, looks was scarier in person. Of course I’m not close enough to touch the thing, but it’s really close. There’s a thick gate that separates us though. “I-is that a…b-bull?” I ask, even though it obviously is.

“It is,” Wesley chuckles, placing his hand on the small of my back as he walks behind me, showing me to our seats in the stadium. We’re really close to the actual action where guys are riding bulls as if that’s totally normal or something. Looking around the stadium arena, I see that this entire thing is full of people. This must be a real favorite here in Tennessee.

“This is crazy,” I murmur, awestruck as I hear a bell and suddenly a bull runs out of a gate with a man on his back. And the bull is bucking hard, really, really hard. I guess he’s trying to get the man off of him. That’s understandable though, because the dude riding him is really big. “What is this?” I wonder, seriously confused.

“Steffy Vandergeld, welcome to the rodeo,” Wesley says just as an announcer starts speaking over a loudspeaker, announcing the lineup of tonight’s events. I have no idea what the first two of them are that he says, but he names steer wrestling, saddle bronc and bareback and bronc riding, bull riding.

✈✈✈✈

“That was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” I gush, shaking my head a few hours later when Wesley pulls up in front of my grandmother’s house. As weird and unusual as it sounds, I actually had a lot of fun at the rodeo. Sure, it was kind of hot and the floor was dirt which explains why Wesley said I couldn’t get too dressed up or wear heels or anything, but it really was cool. I think that the bull riding was my favorite though. I mean, these guys get on the back of angry bulls willingly and try to hold on as if they’re simple manpower is stronger than a freaking bull. A lot of them fell off and nearly got trampled by the bulls which was frightening, but kind of amazing at the same time.

“I take it that you had fun?” Wesley wonders, putting the car in park.

“Yes!” I squeal, nodding my head furiously. “The picnic too, of course, because that was cute; you’re cute.”

“I am not cute,” He denies, shaking his head and frowning as his nose scrunches up when he does.

“Yes, you actually are, Wesley,” I giggle, about to open my door. Wesley gets out of the truck then and briskly walks around the back of the truck, coming to open it for me.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to the door,” He offers.

“You’re being extremely gentleman-y tonight,” I observe.

“Am I not gentleman-y all of the time?” He wonders as we walk up  to the front door together. It’s already a quarter until twelve o’clock, so I know that I’m probably going to get into trouble with my grandmother and my parents, but I don’t really care, because my and Wesley’s first date was completely and totally worth it.

“I suppose so,” I appease him as we reach the front door.

Before pulling out my key to unlock it, I go up on my tip-toes—  the disadvantage of not wearing high heels today—  and kiss him briefly on his lips. Wesley pushes his lips against mine and they move together slowly in synch, but we don’t make out or anything, which is pretty good, considering we do that a whole lot. The only reason that Wesley pulls away is because there’s a knock from inside the window that looks out from the living room, which scares us both.

The front door swings open and I see not my mother, not my father, not my grandmother, but my brother standing there with a smug look on his face, his arms crosses across his stomach. I look up at him with a weird expression and he just looks from Wesley to me and back again.

“You’re awfully late,” He says, as if I don’t already know that.

“Yeah, I told you I was going on a date.” I remind him.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me you’d be out all night,” He scolds.

“It’s still nighttime, now go back in the house and I’ll be in soon,” I demand, shooing him.

“Okay, okay, don’t be long or I’ll be back,” He warns.

“No you won’t,” I correct, gesturing over to the driveway where Madison’s car still is. “Because Madison’s here and you wouldn’t want our lovely parents and oh so understanding grandmother to find out that you’re letting girls spend the night,” I say in the sweetest voice I can muster.

“Okay, you know what? Shut up.” Spencer laughs, nodding at Wesley before closing the door. I know—  at least, I’m hoping—  that they’re just being friendly and talking or whatever and not actually hooking up. For two reasons at that. 1. My parents and grandmother are all in that house, that’s just nasty. And 2. He just broke up with Julia today and I don’t think letting my friend be his rebound would be nice.

“Pardon my extremely weird brother,” I sigh to Wesley before pushing my lips to his again, softly. He places one hand on the small of my back, pulling my body to his and his other on my waist, gripping it lightly. I raise my hands and let them rest on his chest as we kiss there on the porch. As badly as I want to make out with him, I’m not going to right here on the porch under the light where Spencer could potentially be spying on us or anything like that. After a few minutes, I pull away from him, and stand back down flat on the ground. “I had fun tonight,” I say truthfully.

“So did I,” Wesley nods, giving me another small peck. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow? Do you want me to come and get you?”

“It’d sure beat riding the school bus,” I giggle.

“Your wish is my command, he teases lightly. “I’ll be here in the morning then.”

“Okay,” I nod with, a goofy smile spreading across my face. “Goodnight,” I say pushing the front door open and going in.

“Goodnight,” Wesley quietly says, giving me a wave before turning and walking back down the driveway to his car.

I close the door behind him and rest my back against the front door, biting down on my lower lip to avoid letting out a squeal. When I’m confident that I can walk without my knees going to jelly, I push myself up and make my way to my bedroom. I almost stop to tell Spencer that I’m in, but I don’t want to chance walking in on him and Madison if they’re like, kissing or whatever. Madison has morals though, so I bet they’re not, they’re probably just talking of whatever.

Nevertheless though, I’m exhausted, so I walk into my room and close the door before slipping my shoes off and the dress. I lie the dress in my dirty clothes hamper and then cross the room to my dresser, pulling it open. I get dressed in a simple pair of old pajama pants with vertical pink stripes and a hot pink t-shirt before doing my hair up in a messy bun and going to remove my makeup. When my face is make up free, I brush my teeth tiredly and then go back to my room, turning the light out and lying down on my back in my bed. I replay the events of our adorable date today though my mind and sigh happily, turning in the bed on my side and looking out of the window up at the full moon.

Thank God for Wesley James.

Because he’s kind of the best person I’ve ever met in my life.