Hey, slightly different style from the last two chapters as I had two characters' stories to tell. This is a fair warning that Jasper's part has a bit of *s-e-x* but I don't think it's over the top. If you're not interested, feel free to skip it and move on to the next Wes section.

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Wes

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“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

I was holding my cell phone to my ear; I hadn’t even realized how long it had been. “There’s nothing to say,” I said. When Jasper called I thought twice about answering the phone. I read and re-read the name on my caller id and thought about how I couldn’t bear to hear his voice. I fingered the scars on my stomach and cringed at the memory of that fateful night.

“Wes, I love you.” He said; I didn’t answer him. “Please, why won’t you see me?”

“Jasper I’d like it if you didn’t call back.” I hung up the phone and gently placed it on the kitchen table. Before he’d called I was in the process of doing dishes, so I stood up and went back to the sink. I scrubbed a plate, rinsed it and placed it carefully into the drying rack. I struggled to jam the cloth into the very bottom of a tall drinking glass, rinsed it and placed it in the rack. I could feel tears forming, they stung my eyes and I wiped them away with the back of my wrist.

As I stepped away from the sink I dried my hands and turned on the radio. The university station was playing some drum and bass electro pop dance crap. I lingered on the dial, contemplating changing the station. I decided to keep it where it was and turned the music up as my cell phone started to ring again. I didn’t check the caller id as I went back to the dirty dishes. I unconsciously slipped a hand under my shirt again, I traced one scar with my index finger and thought of the fiery eyes of my assailant. I could still smell his breath, feel it on my face. I remembered the feeling of the smooth handle of my pocket knife sticking out of my body. I thought of brightly coloured paper, of Jasper’s voice and his goofy grin.

I started washing the dishes again, listening to the pounding bass of the radio. I tried to ignore the ringing of my cell phone as I scrubbed the baked on bits of dinner that remained in my casserole dish. I scrubbed a little harder and it didn’t help. Bending over to check the cupboard for one of those metal scrubbing pads I felt the tenderness in my stomach and gasped. I felt a tear escape down my face and I quickly brushed it away.

I stood up after finding the only pad left in the yellow box, making a mental note to buy some more. I started to scrub to no avail, I scrubbed harder and harder and still the burnt pieces of potato skin wouldn’t budge. I was scrubbing so hard now soapy water began to splash from the sink, it started sloshing down the front of my clothes and I could feel the tears on my face as I heard my phone start ringing again. I tried not to think about it and went to turn the music up. Glancing at my phone as I went back to the dishes I saw Jasper’s name and number and wasn’t surprised by the constricting pain I felt in my chest.

I tried to wash the dish some more but wasn’t making much progress. I stopped and took a deep breath. I was getting frustrated and I needed to calm myself. I took the dish out of the soapy water and inspected the burnt on mess. I picked at it with my finger nail and saw my phone light up in the corner of my eye. He’d never give up.

I tried to scrub some more, getting angry I splashed water everywhere, all over the counters and floors before finally I screamed with rage and threw the dish across the room. It hit the wall and shattered. I looked at the spot where it had hit, not taking my eyes away from the soap suds that dripped lazily down the paint and I cried out again, slamming my hand into the cupboard door in front of my face. I left the kitchen, stepping over the broken glass and leaving my phone on the table. I needed to get out of my house.

I walked down the street with my hands in my pockets. I fingered the spare change and my house key, the only things I kept in my pockets these days. I’d taken this route so many times since the stabbing, it was almost unconscious now. I looked at my watch; they would be sitting down for dinner about now.

I saw the familiar car first, remembered the sound of its horn. I slowed down as I reached the driveway of the house. I looked into the window and saw Jim and Monica sitting down at their dining room table. I imagined what it would be like to sit with them. I imagined the warmth of those mashed potatoes in my mouth.

Stepping off the sidewalk I took a couple steps across the front lawn. I thought about ringing the door bell. I wanted them to open their arms to me, ask me to join them. I was almost to the window when I noticed Jim look up from his plate. We made eye contact and he shook his head, putting his hand over his eyes in frustration. Monica lifted her head and looked out the window at me, her eyes were so sad, I knew that sadness was for me. She got up from the table and came towards the front door but I took off down the street. I heard her yell out her door to me but I kept walking, pretending not to hear her.

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Jasper

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I climbed onto the bus at my usual stop. I tried not to pay attention to many of the people filling the seats and made my way for the back. As I sat down I noticed someone staring at me. His hair was platinum blonde and he smiled at me with his eyes. I recognized him right away but I knew he didn’t know who I was. It was Greg, Wes’ boyfriend before me. Wes showed me pictures of him once, that’s how I recognized him.

I got up out of my seat and went over to sit next to him. “Hi,” I said. “I’m Jasper.”

“Hi.” He said to me, smiling and looking away as he blushed. “I’m Greg.”

“Where are you headed Greg?” I smiled at him, if I squinted my eyes just right he looked like Wes, if Wes dyed his hair blonde anyway.

“Work,” He said, looking at me now. “You?”

“Same. Where do you work?”

“I work at a gas station,” Greg laughed nervously. “Not very exciting I know.”

“Don’t worry about it, a job is a job right?” I moved my knee closer to his, I didn’t quite know why I did though. He looked down at our knees as they touched and kind of laughed a little. He quickly pulled a pen from his bag and grabbed onto my hand.

“This is my number, you should call me sometime.” He wrote the number on my hand and got up to exit the bus. “This is my stop, hopefully I’ll talk to you later?”

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I was sitting in my dimly lit bedroom, looking at the phone number on my hand. I was very careful not to smudge the ink during my day, but I wasn’t sure if I’d call Greg. It was strange, the thought of it. I don’t know why I felt the urge to talk to him; maybe it was just the shared connection in our lives. Whatever the reason, I contemplated the number for a moment longer, wondering what I should do.

Eventually I picked up the phone and dialled. Not the number on my hand though. The number I called was much more familiar, I counted the rings. One, two, three. Would he answer? Four, five, six. I knew there were two more rings, one more now until the voicemail.

“Hello, this is Wes, leave a message at the beep.”

I hung up after hearing his voice and sighed. I knew he wouldn’t pick up, I don’t even know why I tried. I looked again at the number on my hand and called it.

“Hello?”

“Hi Greg...it’s Jasper.”

“Jasper? You mean the cute guy from the bus?” The voice sounded a little playful now.

“Yeah, from the bus. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to meet up?”

“When?” He asked after a moment of silence. I followed his silence with one of my own.

“Now?” I said, unsure of myself.

“My bus comes in fifteen minutes, I’ll meet you at your stop,” Greg hung up and I felt my stomach churn. What was I doing?

I met Greg at my bus stop, he got off and we walked in the cold night for a while. At first we were silent, and then finally, “Are we gunna fool around or what?” I was taken aback by the question. Wes mentioned that Greg was a little straight forward, but I didn’t expect this. We just met on the bus this morning.

“Okay.” I said and started to lead the way to my apartment.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Greg said as we climbed the stairs of my apartment building.

“Done what?”

“Hooked up.”

I unlocked the door and led the way to my bedroom. “Could have fooled me.”

“How so?”

“You’re so straight forward about it.” I said as I sat down on my bed.

“Well, it’s not every day you meet a handsome man on the bus,” Greg said. “I had to take advantage of it now, otherwise maybe I’d never have sex again.”

I didn’t say anything else to him, I grabbed his arms and pulled him close, I kissed him then pulled him onto my bed with me. We struggled to get each other’s clothes of. It was a sweaty, intense encounter. We frantically pawed at each other’s bodies, groping and kissing. I imagined myself with someone else, I pictured Wes the way he was. I imagined that Greg’s soft, unscarred belly was Wes’ before the accident. I kissed the spot where Wes’ scars would be. I looked at Greg’s face, squinting my eyes to turn it into Wes’.

The sounds he made, the gasps for air, the moans, they weren’t Wes’. I turned some music on, putting the volume up high enough that it was all I could hear. Greg was a little more adventurous than Wes. He let me do things that took me months to get Wes to let me do. I put a pillow over his face near the end, holding it down as if to smother him. He fought it, struggled a little but I didn’t care. I thrusted harder as I came closer, we finished together, I felt his orgasm coming and allowed my own to climax. I fell back to the bed, trying not to let our sweaty bodies touch.

“That was amazing,” Greg said after a moment, finally moving the pillow from his face. “Nice touch by the way, I like a good kinky man.” He smiled.

We remained silent for a moment; I tried to catch my breath. He didn’t seem anxious to go anywhere and I wasn’t ready to be alone.

“So that’s what you’re like when you’re out of practice?” I asked. “How long has it been?”

“A little over a year,” He answered. “I kind of had my heart broken by this guy, maybe I moped over him a little too long.”

“Broken heart huh?” I knew Greg was talking about Wes. From what I’d heard Wes broke up with Greg in about the same way he did with me. He stopped answering his phone, stopped returning calls and replying to emails. He just cut himself off instantly with no explanation. “I know how you feel.”

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Wes

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Gordy and I were walking down the street toward the bus stop. We’d been downtown on our weekly date night; we alternated taking each other to different restaurants and tonight it was his turn. It was a lot of fun, we went to a Greek place I’d never been to before and we had a great time. We were joking with each other now, coming closer to our stop however, my laugh began to quieten.

“Gordy, maybe we should get a different bus,” I said, stepping in front of him and turning to look him in the eye. “Or maybe we should walk? It’s a nice night.” That was true; it was the first night of the year that I didn’t need a jacket.

“But it’s so far, this bus is coming in like three minutes.” He checked the time on his cell phone as he said this.

“I know but, but let’s just walk.”

“Wes?” I heard his voice and cringed. I pleaded with my eyes for Gordy to take me away and I didn’t think it worked. “Wes is that you?”

I turned around with a gulp and forced a smile. “Jasper, hi.”

“Long time no see.” He said, he raised his arms like he wanted to hug me but awkwardly slapped them back down to his sides, glancing at Gordy as he did so.

“Yeah, I know,” I said, turning to look at Gordy. “This is Gordon, Gordy I guess.”

“You guess?” Jasper laughed, rocking back onto his heels as he did so. “You don’t even know the guy’s name?”

“Yeah I do Jasper,” I said. “I just don’t know if I want you to know it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jasper asked. I heard the bus just down the street behind me and felt a sense of relief.

“Is that your bus?” I asked, not even looking at it.

“Yeah, why don’t you sit with me? We can catch up?”

“Actually we’re walking home, nice to meet you...Jasper was it?” Gordy stepped closer to me, trying to get between Jasper and I.

“Yeah, nice to meet you too Gordy,” Jasper didn’t even look at him as he said this. “Wes, just get on the bus with me and let’s talk, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

“Look buddy,” Gordy pushed Jasper’s shoulders as the bus came up to the curb. “I don’t know who you are but I already told you, we’re walking.”

“You getting on or what?” The bus driver called out the door to us. “Can’t sit here all day waiting.” Jasper looked into my eyes and I looked away. He held out a hand to me and Gordy pushed it away.

“Get on your bus Jasper.” He said, making eye contact with my ex boyfriend.

“Come on Wes, just...please.” Jasper sounded sad but I didn’t look at him, I grabbed onto Gordy’s hand and pulled him away down the street, back the way we came.

“Come on Gordy, let’s go.” I said, he followed me, looking over his shoulder at Jasper as he did so. I didn’t look back at all. I just hoped Jasper would get onto the bus without saying another word to us.

“Who was that guy?” Gordy asked me. I didn’t say anything. “Wes, seriously, who was that? He got you all shaky and nervous.”

“He’s...he’s...nobody,” I shook my head and started walking faster. “Let’s get the next bus home; maybe we can stream a movie tonight or something.” I turned around when we reached a bus stop and smiled at Gordi. He knew I wasn’t going to talk about it so he dropped it.

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Those who read Jasper's section: The sex wasn't too bad was it? I'm just trying to establish a bit of Jasper's desperate character.

ps, Anyone who's noticed that this is the second story in which I use the name "Jasper," I'll let you know there is no connection between the two characters.

It just so happens to be my cat's name, he is usually curled up in my lap while I'm writting and lends me his name when I find myself stumped.