I pointedly ignore the hypocrisy of my annoyance considering I muted all of Talia’s incoming texts last night. But the last thing I need right now is her and her pity. If the fact that she didn’t show up at my locker again is any indication, she finally got that message.
After all that, while Wesley’s not the last person I expect to see waiting for me in the library, where I plan to hide away again during lunch, he’s definitely in the bottom five. I chastise myself for assuming he’s there for me, but when he looks up and notices me hovering in the doorway, clutching my lunch bag, he moves aside his stack of comics to make room for me at his table.
I walk past shelves of classics, the smell reminding me of my mom’s office. “Not hiding out in the art room with Zaq?” I ask as I sit across from him.
“He offered,” he says sheepishly. “But I had a feeling you’d come here again.” I smile awkwardly, unsure about this change of heart. “I’m not mad at you.”
“How about Lindsay?” I ask, trying to mask my relief.
“Oh, she’s definitely mad at you.”
I roll my eyes. “I know that. But how are you feeling about her?”
He shrugs, his gray sweater swallowing his neck. “I can’t really be mad at her for not wanting to date me, can I?” I feel a surge of guilt, and it must show, because Wesley instantly cringes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean you and Ta—”
“It’s fine.”
We sit in silence. I peel an orange while Wes flips through a comic book and eats trail mix out of a sandwich baggie, a sort of sad expression on his face.
I decide to ask him something I’ve never let myself question before, my previous loyalty to Lindsay keeping it brimming beneath the surface of my thoughts until now. “Why do you like Lindsay?”
He doesn’t seem surprised by this, but if he wasn’t frowning before, he definitely is now. “Does now really seem like a good time to ask me that?”
I almost flinch. In Wes’s world, that was basically him telling me to fuck off. Though I guess I did witness him literally tell Sammie that yesterday. “I’m sorry. But I’ve always understood Sammie and Lindsay. They’re both flirts and a little promiscuous and like being the center of attention.” Wes gives me a look that says talking about Sammie and Lindsay’s great chemistry isn’t helping. “But you’re not like that.”
He scrunches his face. “Thanks?”
“I just mean that whenever we’re all together, you seem content to just be there with us. I see that now. Honestly? I used to think you hated me and Agatha because you never jumped into our conversations the way Sammie and Lindsay did.”
“You thought I hated you because I didn’t interrupt you?”
I press against my temples. “I’m saying this all wrong. I’m trying to compliment you, I swear. You’re just … a good person, that’s all. So I don’t really get it.”
“Because Lindsay and Sammie aren’t good people?”
My stomach drops. “No! That’s not what—”
“Why are you friends with Sammie and Lindsay?”
My head falls into my hands. “This was supposed to be about you.”
“It’ll come back around, I promise.”
“We always talk about me. Why can’t we psychoanalyze you for once?”
Someone shushes us, and we both cower for a second.
“Why are you friends with them,” he insists, less question and more reminder.
I take a moment to consider it. Why am I friends with them? Sammie and I grew up together. He’s been a part of my life forever. Even when we grew apart for a few years, he was always there—across the unbridged space between our windows.
But how much of my friendship with Sammie has been occupied by his drama with Lindsay lately? It feels like every conversation we’ve had for the past few weeks has been about him and her.
“He makes me happy,” I say finally. “Sammie knows how to make me laugh like no one else does. He knows how to turn an insult about me into a compliment with only a handful of words.” I lean back in my chair but keep my voice soft. “And he’s reliable, even when he isn’t. If I ever needed someone to help me hide a body, I know Agatha is the one I should call. But I’d call Sammie, every time.”
Wes scoots his chair closer to the table. “And Lindsay?”
“Lindsay was a part of the package deal,” I say with a shrug. It’s an honest response, one of the most truthful things I’ve said in weeks. “Lindsay was friends with Agatha, and I wanted to be friends with Agatha. So she came with.” I never really thought about it. I mean, I knew I always had been and always would be closer to Sammie and Agatha than to Lindsay. But it’s not like we weren’t friends too. We had classes together and decorated each other’s lockers for our birthdays and did our makeup for school dances cramped in the same bathrooms. But how much of that was because it was more convenient to be friends than not?
“She’s…” I’m about to say kind, but I second-guess it. Then funny, but she’s more sarcastic than humorous. She’s smart, but that’s not why we’re friends. Neither is her being pretty or charismatic or popular. They’re the words that come to mind when I think of her, but they have nothing to do with us, together.
“I like her because she has drive,” Wesley says, finally fulfilling my wish by interrupting me. “She likes training during track season and likes the challenge of tutoring struggling students. I think she even likes running for prom queen. Because she’s focused and disciplined, but also knows how to have fun.” He pauses, smiling to himself. “She’s not the sweetest girl in the room, I know. But she’ll say hi to everyone in it. It’s like … it’s like she never runs out of space inside. She always has room for new goals and hobbies and friends. She welcomed me into your guys’ group, after all. She’s so full, but she always has room for more.” He smiles sadly. “After a certain point, I think I knew she didn’t want to commit to Sammie or me. It’s been over a year of this. And I understand it, from her point of view. We’re young and graduating, and not everyone is a romantic about this time in our lives.” I scoff. “She has the world at her fingertips. I don’t blame her for not wanting to settle.”
“She wouldn’t be settling,” I tell him, then, maybe against my better judgment, I reach across the table and give his folded hands a squeeze. “I think she’s scared. Like you said, she’s always had room for more. If she loved you or Sammie back without reservation, she’d be full. That would be enough for her, I think.”
He looks down at his hands, opening and closing his mouth a few times. Finally, he glances up. “Ophelia, do you think romantic love is all you need to have a full life?”
I flinch.
“I’m sad that Lindsay doesn’t see a future with me, obviously. Because being around her, when it’s just the two of us, makes me happy. Whether she’s complimenting my art or listening to me rant about a new comic or helping me cook dinner with my parents … she makes me happy. But if all I get with her is high school, I’m okay with that.”