Weston

It's been a little over a week since the strangely kind of great day with Lena.

I didn't want to admit it, but something about that day had changed it for me. I could tell myself all day long that I was looking out for her because of Beck, but if I wanted to be honest with just myself, I'd admit I'm doing it because I want to. I...care.

The way she'd laughed that day, the way she tilts her head back just a little when she does it, and the way she ran on the beach. I sound like such a tool, even and especially to myself, but when I lay down in bed at night, I replay it all in my head. The way she narrowed her eyes at the water just before running out to grab her sand dollar, the way she screamed when the wave caught her.

  I smile at the memory, even here in the middle of my math class, the place smiles are supposed to go to die. If I concentrate hard enough I can still feel the way her hand lingered on my chest, like she wanted to touch me just as much as I wanted to touch her. It had taken every ounce of my strength not to grab her and kiss her right then. And that was a big thing for me to admit. I wanted to kiss her.

I went to pull my phone out of my pocket, tempted to steal a quick glance at the picture of the two of us that I still had saved on my phone. It wasn't like I looked at it often...just whenever I thought about it, so...ok, often.

The teacher stepped out though and before I could get it out, Joseph was sliding his chair loudly across the tiled floor and smacking me in the shoulder.

"West, what the fuck?" He leans back, crossing his arms and shaking his head in disappointment.

"What?" I shrug, confused.

Joseph drops the act with a laugh, rumbling loudly out of him. Everything Joseph does is loud. "Marco said you told him you aren't coming out with us after the game tonight." He shakes his shaggy brown hair out of his narrow eyes. "You never party with us anymore and tonight is a rivalry game which guarantees that the after party is going to be off the charts. You've got to be there."

I knew he was telling the truth but I shrug anyway. "I think I'm just going to go home tonight, man." I tell him. "I haven't spent any time with my folks lately." The lie makes me feel sick. As if I'd actually want to go home and spend time with those lying fakes. My lie doesn't faze him at all though. He downright ignores it, unrelenting about how awesome tonight will be. Food, and beers, and a party at Marco's, who happens to have the sickest party house in town so it was definitely going to be lit. I had to admit it sounded kind of nice, but at the same time I wasn't really sure I wanted that to be my scene anymore. Parties always make me think of that last party I went to with Beckham, and how that night ended with my best friend lying bleeding on his back on the dirty asphalt. I couldn't very well say that to Joseph though, so instead I go with, "I'll go eat with you all and for a few drinks but I'm not going to the party tonight."

Joseph grins, already pulling out his phone, as he smacks my back. "I'll take it." He says sliding his seat back as the teacher reappears in the doorway.

Time ticks by in excruciating slowness, but finally the bell rings, releasing me from this class and letting me go. I jump in a hurry to get to Chemistry, because I love that class, not because of the pretty blonde with the smart mouth and grey eyes I'll get to see.

It's weird now how seeing her doesn't make me completely sick with guilt and dread. It's still there, a faint gnawing, but there is something else there too that is stronger and wins out over the hurt.

When I turn the corner into the room though, that warm feeling turns ugly fast. Devon Trainer is sitting in my seat, right next to my, well not mine, but whatever, he's leaning in, talking to Lena. Whatever he just said to her makes her lean away, a blush rising to her cheeks as she laughs lightly. When she looks away he takes the opportunity to eyeball her body like a total sleaze, not that I don't do the same thing, but it's different somehow when I do it.

When his hand disappears under the table, I lose my shit.

I stomp over, ripping the chair out from under his ass, sending him sprawling to the floor, his hand being pulled away from Lena's bare knee. I glare down at him for a second and then push his body away with my foot and sit down, sliding my seat back up into the right spot beside her. "Fuck, my bad, man." I mumble, getting fixed in my seat. "I didn't see you sitting there in my chair." I tell him over my shoulder. "You must have gotten lost."

Devon gets to his feet and beyond my belief he edges around me to the other side of the table and goes right back to talking to Lena.

Does he not know who the hell I am? Or is he purposely trying to piss me off?

"So, tonight?" He asks her and I try not to stare at him. "Will I see you at the party?"

The fuck? This goon is actually trying to ask her out?

Lena blinks up at him and smiles. "Oh, sorry, but I'm..." She shift her body away from mine slightly. "I'm working tonight."

Devon frowns, but I smile. "Next time, then?" He asks and she nods.

"Sure."

Ha! Yeah, right. Nice try, bucko.

He slinks off to his seat in the back of the room and Lena turns to me so fast that I barely lean back fast enough to keep from our heads knocking together.

"What the hell was that?" She demands, her eyes wide.

I sit back in my seat and laugh a little. "I know, right?" I shrug coolly, toying with my pen in front of me so that I'm not tempted to stare at her. "I can't believe he actually thought you'd want to go to a party with him. I mean come on, you at a Plexer party? That dude is an idiot."

I can practically feel the heat of her glare on the side of my face and then I do feel the punch she throws at my arm. "You're the idiot." She whispers. "I was talking about you acting like some wild gorilla man a second ago, not him asking me out, you dumb jock." She clarified. Oh, that. "But while we are on the subject, why wouldn't I go to a Plexer party? I could if I wanted to."

I laugh and she tightens her jaw in annoyance. "Yeah, right."

"Whatever, Weston." She rolls her eyes, turning away until she remembers her original question and whips back to me. "Are you going to answer my question or keep changing the subject?"

The thought of Devon's hand on her leg pops back into my head and before I realize my mouth is even open, the words are already out. "I don't like sharing."

Her eyes nearly bug out of her head and she crosses her legs away from me. "Um, what?" she croaks and I clear my throat.

"My chair." I add quickly. Apparently I have a gorilla brain to match the personality. "I don't like sharing my chair." I shrug as I turn to fish my books out of my bag and giving myself a reason to swivel where she can't see my face. When I look back she is doodling a purple flower in the margin of her notes from yesterday. "So," I say causally, trying to shake off my awkwardness. Weston Ford doesn't get nervous and say dumb shit to girls. He does however apparently refer to himself in the third person. I roll my eyes at my own thoughts and absently wonder when I became this person. Be cool! "You going to the game tonight?"

She lifts her pen to her mouth and chews on the lid. I have to look away, and adjust my pants as she spins it against her teeth, before looking back. "No." She rests the pen against her bottom lip then looks up at me under her lashes.

I notice the guy across the aisle watching her and the pen too and I glare at him until he sees me and looks away quickly. "Oh." I mumble. "Well, I was going to ask you, I got suckered into going to eat with some of the guys after the game, and I wondered if maybe you'd want to come with us?"

I hadn't planned to ask her, but now that it was out there, I was really hoping she'd say yes. I'd be looking forward to it a lot more if she was going too. But she dashes my hopes.

"I can't." She shakes her head.

"Sure you can." I tell her quickly. "I can pick you up, and if you're worried about the money, I've got it covered."

She looks away from me, her eyes drifting to the windows that line the side of the room. "It's none of that." She says quietly. "I would, but I'm...I'm working tonight."

I cross my arms over my chest and sit back hard into my chair. I don't like this rejection feeling. Girls don't tell me no, not that I was asking her out, but still, she's a girl and I'm Weston Ford. "You're going to give me the same brush off excuse as Devon?" I grumble, feeling annoyed.

She crosses her arms right back at me, narrowing her eyes. "It isn't an excuse." She says. "I really do have to work tonight, asshat." She turns in her chair, facing the front again.

"Since when do you have a job?" I demand, not meaning for it to come out so gruffly, but the way she is purposely not looking at me is pissing me off.

"For a while now." She says plainly.

I roll my eyes, sitting forward again. "Ok, where?"

"None of your business."

I blink fast. "Excuse me?"

She whips around, staring me down. "Did I stutter? I knew you were dumb but I didn't know we could add deaf to that list too." She snaps sarcastically. "I said where I work is none of your damn business."

"You're really not going to tell me?" I huff.

"Nope."

I want to let it go, but I can't. "Why the hell not?"

She sighs loudly, jerking her hands through her hair. "Because if I told you, you'd show up there and I don't want you to." She says it so bluntly that it stings a little.

"Why would you not want me to swing by? It isn't that big of a deal."

She fists her hands in front of her. "You're making it a big deal right now." She groans, then looks away. "I don't want you to come see me at work, so just drop it."

"Fine." I snap angrily, and she flips her hair over her shoulder, creating a barrier between us.

I chew the inside of my cheek, my jaw tensing. She doesn't want me knowing where she works, that's her own damn business. I can't believe she didn't even tell me she's had a job for a while now. It's not like we are friends, but I thought the talking every day in class and smiling at each other in the hallway had meant that that was the direction we were going.

Guess I'd been wrong.

We didn't speak again the rest of class and the second the bell rang she collected her things and bolted for the door without looking back at me.

Devon runs after her and I hear him ask her if he can walk her to class on their way out the door.

Whatever. Screw them.

If she wanted to hang out with that second string clown, she could. It's nothing to me.

I pull my phone out on my way to my next class and type out a message to Marco.

Count me in for the party tonight.

Adrenaline pumps through me as I run with my teammates into the locker rooms, ringing with sweat after a crushing win over the rival team. The locker room chatter and the muffled cheers from the stands outside fill my ears and I hurry to shower off.

The game had really helped in getting out some of my frustrations, especially after getting in a few sacks. "Tonight is going to be lit!" I hear someone shout as I come back into the main room after a quick rinse off with my towel hung low on my hips.

"You're coming, West?" Brady calls to me from one of the benches with some other seniors, one of them being Devon.

"Hell yeah!" I say enthusiastically, still high on the game. It had really gotten me in the mood to eat something greasy, throw a few back, and maybe dance with a pretty girl.

As I pass Beck's old locker I bump my fist softly against the cold metal.

"Hey, man, you alright?" Donte comes up beside me.

"Miss him." I admit after a second.

Donte puts a hand on my shoulder and nods. "We all do." He agrees, eyeing the number on the locker too, then he tilts his head at me. "Hey, what's up with you and Proper's sister?" He asks under his breath.

I've gotten the question a lot since posting the pic of us, and I usually give everyone a vague, we were just hanging out, but not this time. Tonight I don't want to talk about or think about her. "Not a damn thing." I tell him, then turn to the others, lifting my fist into the air. "Tonight we party in Beck's honor!" I yell and the guys go wild.

An hour later we all pile into the Hooter's a town over from the school. The place is totally packed, even for ten on a Friday. "Gotta piss." I tell Trey, breaking off from the group as they go to find a table.

I maneuver through the groups of people to find the bathroom. The smell of the wings, the cold beers covering the bar, and all the hot scantily clad waitresses are just what I needed tonight. A couple of them give me grins and watch me as I pass by them. Maybe I will get lucky and take one of them home with me later. But first, nature called.

I did my thing in the bathroom and then came back out into the restaurant. I scan the room slowly, looking for my friends when my heart stops. Two tables down from me is the hottest waitress in the whole place.

"What the literal fuck?" I say under my breath, frozen in place.

Her long blonde hair is curled loosely and falls down her back and her makeup was all done up. Those things were fine, but what was totally unfine was the teeny tiny orange booty shorts and the tighter than skin white tank that her tits were pushed up in and on display for every man here to ogle at, which they were.

One of the men sitting at the table in front of her says something and she laughs, totally fake, but he doesn't know that, and then she reaches out and playfully swats at him, smiling like a goddess even though his grimy eyes are running up and down her body with no shame.

She collects their plates and then turns to walk away, gracing me with the view of her ass that those shorts are leaving nothing to the imagination about. Her body was complete perfection and I found myself hypnotized by the sway of her hips as she walked to drop the dirty plates at the kitchen window.

"Weston! Come on!" Matt yelled out across the restaurant.

I don't even look his way. Not as Lena turns at the sound of my name and her eyes search until they land on mine.

That's all it takes to break the trance and I barrel through the people to get to her, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her behind me, dragging her out the front door as she yells at me to let go the whole way until we are in the parking lot, away from prying eyes.

I finally release her and she jerks away from me so fast she almost stumbles backwards.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I try not to yell but it's hard because of the battle inside of me that wants to cover her up but also keep staring at the same time.

"I'm working!" She screams at me. "And if you ever touch me like that again I swear to god you'll be choking on your own balls." She threatens me and then turns.

"What would Beckham think of you walking around like that?" I ask her, and she instantly is coming back at me. Her face goes ghostly white and I already regret the words coming out of my mouth.

"How dare you bring him into this!" she snarls, real venom in her voice. "I'm doing what I have to do to survive! Not that a spoiled little brat like you would ever get close to understanding that."

"By working here?" I point back and then fan out a hand to her clothes, or lack thereof.

Her eyes are wild and she shakes a little as she yells at me. "It's a job, Weston. One that I need." Then she narrows her eyes and lifts her chin to me. "I guess it's a good thing the strip club wasn't hiring, trust me, I checked. I would have hated to see how you could put me down and try to make me feel like shit there." I almost choke on my spit and hop she's lying but something in her eyes tells me she isn't. "You would have loved that." She spits.

"You don't need this job." I tell her, my blood running hot and my head filled with images of her at the shady joint on the edge of downtown asking them if they were hiring new dancers. I wanted to shake her and hug her at the same time and that confused me so much that my mouth wasn't on board with my brain. "You don't need to be walking around half naked-."

"Get over yourself, Weston." She cuts me off and hatred wraps around my name like it never has before. "I'm wearing a hell of a lot more than what I wear to the public pool, but at least here I'm getting paid."

"You're getting paid to prance around with your tits up to your chin and your ass out for the world to see."

"Fuck you." She shakes. "You don't know anything about me or what I need. You don't know shit, Weston." Her voice even shakes. "Just leave me alone. I don't want your pity or your help or your life advice or your protection from the big bad world. All I want is to make money, make good grades, and get the hell out of this town. I want to go to college, and to do that, I'm doing what I've got to do. I'm sorry you don't agree with it, but not everyone has a trust fund to fall back on. I don't matter to you. You need to just forget me." She talks so fast that the words and insults all string together. "Stay out of my life and stop thinking you can tell me what I can and can't do. Back off! Leave me alone! And don't come back here!"

She turns away and I know deep down I should just let her go, but her words cut me deep. I thought we'd been getting somewhere and she basically just spit in my face and at my attempts to be her friend.

"Beckham is probably rolling over in his grave right now." I say low under my breath, but I know she hears me.

She turns back suddenly, and with way more power than I would have expected out of someone with as small a frame as her, she sends a stinging slap across my right cheek, making my head jerk to the side.

When I look back down at her she bares her teeth and her eyes fill with tears. "Never speak to me again." She whispers before turning away and running back inside.