A few days after avoiding the mere existence of Wesley Reynolds, we needed to come together again. We still had a project to do. I decided that we would do our work in the library since I no longer trusted him in our house.
Jasper doesn’t know any details about my feelings for Wes, but he came to the library for moral support. He has firsthand knowledge about the tension that sits between Wes and me during class.
Jasper and I were sitting in the library waiting for Wes to show up. I wanted to see Wes more than anything. Stealing glances at him in English class was sufficient for the addiction I have to him. He isn’t acting the same way that I’ve come to know all year long. These past few days, he’s been a shell of the Wes I’ve come to know. Almost as if he’s retreated to being the new kid in school.
“When are we going to call it quits?” Jasper asked.
“I’d say five more minutes,” I whispered, keeping my head down in a book. “I really screwed up this time.”