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"Synesthesia" by Andrew McMahon

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Well then you're one step ahead of me, science has never been my strong suit. [Claps enthusiastically when she manages to close her locker succesffuly, laughing] Well done, very impressive. [Nods at the map, humming positively] Yup, nailed it. Right near where you came in, if that helps, too. I try to spend as little time in there as possible, so really, no one's going to fault you for not knowing where it is, least of all me. [Laughs again, shaking his head] That's what I keep telling myself anyway. My girlfriend's the worst, of course, building me up and knocking me down, it's how she tells me she loves me. [Blinks exaggeratedly at the pyramid drawing. Frowns after a moment, shrugging.] Well, no, I suppose in that case - we're not the 'same sort'. [He rolls his eyes, adjusting his weight and standing up straight again] But he is the good sort, more so than I am, anyway. The whole thing's bullshit, but I only get away with saying that because I'm at the top.

[Eliza scoffed jokingly, running a hand through her bangs in obvious distress.] Science. I understand science. I don’t, don’t understand any of this. [Originally attempting to gesture towards whatever papers she’d manage to salvage and stack in the corner of the locker, she flinches at the slightest movement. Choosing to pull back completely, a hand presses the cold metal into motion and the resonating click leaves a smile of relief on the blonde’s face.] Huh? Office. That’s like, [ she squinted, drawing on her palm as she talked ] left here? Round that corner too, maybe. Right? [She shrugged, clicking her tongue.] I have no excuse, that’s one of the rooms I should know. But Wesley, can do. Ha, loser? [With a roll of her eyes, she smiles slightly while shaking his hand.] It’s gott’a be, the worse the name - the more they care. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, bub. Huh. Spot on, yeah. Oh, you do? Good sort? Do you mean — [ picking a small notebook off the top of her pile of books, she opens up to a crude drawing of the pyramid ] this sort? I can’t ever tell what’s literal with you people, I swear. 

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Wesley sat down hesitantly across from Sam, smiling openly at her but looking around for the waitress so he could tell her about the mix up with the tables. He wasn't adverse to seeing someone from school, especially when his alternative was a stuffy man in a suit, but his dad would be pissed if he blew the dinner off. "Ah, no, no I'm not," he laughed, shaking his head. "Uh, yeah, I am actually. Some Yale alum my dad is a fraternity brother of, or something. I'm not really sure of exactly who he is, my dad set the whole thing - " Realization hit him then, and he groaned loudly, dropping his head to the table. "I'm pretty sure this whole thing is my dad's doing, somehow," he told Sam, smiling weakly as he lifted his head back up.

Samantha smiled at the hostess as she showed her to a table at the back of the Italian Restaurant. She had gotten a phone call from her mother that morning saying there was a surgeon from John Hopkins who was in California for a few days and she’d set up a dinner with him for her. This wasn’t unusual, her mother was always trying to get her to meet people who might push her closer to an operation room. Even though she didn’t really want to go the girl figured it would be nice to be out for the evening and have an excuse to put on a pretty dress and actually wash her hair. She would also have a parental approved reason to take a night off from homework, which she was always ready to jump on. She was studying the menu passively when a shadow fell over her and a voice rang out. Looking up Sam frowned and shook her head. “No, i’m not, and you’re not Doctor Edward Williams.” she said, chuckling slightly. “Hi though, you here meeting someone too?” 

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Wesley had rolled his eyes and groaned about his dad setting up a dinner with him and some Yale alum the older man wanted him to kiss up to, but he'd gone without complaint, knowing it was the only way to get his dad to shut up about the whole thing. As annoying as the dinners were, especially when Wesley had no interest in the schools (reminders that fell on his father's suddenly deaf ears) there were certainly worse things he could be doing. At least he got free dinner out of it. When he showed up at the restaraunt and gave his name to the hostess, he expected to be led to a table by the window to find and older man waiting for him. Instead, he was brought to a more private section of the dining area, dropped off at a table with a pretty brunette sitting at it, one he definitely recognized from classes. "I don't think this is the right -" he started, but the hostess was already walking away, leaving Wes alone at the table with Samantha. "Er - you're not from Yale."

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[Wesley chuckled, leaning against the locker next to Eliza's.] Lockers are finicky creatures, there's not much you can really do about them once they've made up their mind about what'll fit and what won't. It's a science, honestly. [He leaned in to glance at the papers in her hand, eyes lighting up in recognition] Just hand them over to the front office, right over the desk. They'll get them to the right places for you, no problem. And you don't have to bother with her name, which is a monster, I'll give you that. [Grinning wider, Wes shook her hand.] Wesley Dunn, friends call me Wes, or loser, but I like to think they mean it affectionately. Wal as in Walcott? Cause him I know, and like, so you must be of the good sort.

[She gives him a half smile, then turns back to eye the puzzle that’s her locker. Muttering under her breath,] It all fit on day one, you’d never figure — [At his words she looked back over, releasing a bit of nervous laughter at the idea.] A bit? Spare me, I really haven’t got a clue what’s going on. I’ve still got to hand some of these papers to uh, someone? I’ve already massacre’d her name once today, actually. Not up to take a walk down memory lane with that one, but maybe you could give it a look? Names obviously aren’t my strong suit but my mom said it was kind’a importante that these found their way home ay-sap.

Speaking of names, though; [Extending a hand out to shake, she held out the papers with the other so he could take a glimpse at the name for himself.] I’m Hill, Eliza Hill. Friends call me Eli, Liza. But I mean, you kind’a could’ve passed for Wal maybe, from the back and all that. Other than that, I could use a hint. Guessing games are my forte, if anything.

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[When Wes caught sight of the obviously struggling girl getting into a fight with her locker, his curiosity peaked; even at this point, freshmen usually knew what they were doing, and she looked older than the midgets anyway, which earned her a point even if he didn't actually recognize her. He detoured in her direction automatically when he saw one of her books fall, and he picked it up without earning so much of a glance from the girl. He held back a laugh at her rambles, amused that she thought she knew who he was when he wasn't even trying to place a name to her. He couldn't hold back the laugh at her double take, but tried to cover it with a smile none the less.] I like to think I have a distinct look, but apparently not considering your earlier confidence. You seem a bit jumbled there, blondie.

[Shoving more books into her already cramped locker, a huffing Eliza didn’t bat an eye when she heard one of her larger textbooks hit the ground. Even after she caught sight of a familiar silhouette out of the corner of her eye, she didn’t look up; choosing to read the squished writing on the palm of her hand whilst shoving books into impossible spaces with her elbow, keeping her eyes anywhere but up even after a shadow approaches.] Yeah, yeah. Dude, just hold up a sec’ if you’re not giving me the grand tour and all that because I haven’t got a freakin’ clue where I’m supposed to be right now. Am I supposed to even be somewhere? I mean, I don’t —  [Picking the book from the hand of the boy beside her, she ends up doing a double take.] I don’t know? I don’t know you, I mean. Sorry, dude. I thought, I thought you were a different dude, not going to lie. 

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"If you're dating an eight year old, someone should probably sit you down and have a conversation with you about your taste in men. And legality issues." He scoffed playfully. "Obviously only cool people; I have standards. You know, the cool people. Eve, HQ, Jude, Mack, Vinny, blah blah blah," Wes trailed off. He narrowed his eyes playfully. "Dolphins are so much better than sharks, come on babe." He smiled into the kiss. "S'why you're the best," he added softly.

Curling up to him and joining in his laughter, “There’s no denying that.” Kaye replied. Hearing his legality plans made her frown slightly, but it was wiped off quickly with an encouraging smile, her eyes alight at the sight of him — as always. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re turning 18 or 8. It can be very hard to tell.” Kaye sighed dramatically, “‘Only the cool people,’ huh? Care to name a few people on that list? - and why a dolphin, of all animals? We all know sharks are so much cooler.” as her expression softened to match his, Kaye moved in closer, closing the gap between them even more. “Good. And if you forget, I’ll always be here to remind you.” she finished quietly, brushing her lips against his not long after.

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"But I'm your big baby," Wesley teased. "Put that tongue away, where's the dignity?" he laughed. "God, I know. Eighteen, that shit's legit. I'll be able to vote, and buy cigarettes I'll never smoke. I can play the lottery. Maybe I'll hit the jackpot and we can run off and buy and island somewhere, invite only the cool people and have a pet dolphin." He frowned slightly, face contemplative. "None of that sounded very adult like." His expression softened. "Never."

"And you’re a big baby." she countered, sticking her tongue out at him playfully. "You know, I almost considered otherwise, but you did that cute thing with your face, so I couldn’t say no." giggling at the poke, she looked up at him, her smile softer than it had been previously. "Your old age that’s about to get even older — don’t think I’ve forgotten your birthday." she murmured, leaning in closer to him. "I love you too, I love you too, I love you too. And I don’t want you forgetting that, ever.”

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"You're so modest," Wes breathed dramatically. "It's a wonder you even let me in your presence, truthfully. Thank you, Kaye of Dunham, for allowing me that." He rolled his eyes, entangling one of his hands and usually it to poke her in the side. "I must be slacking in my old age - but I love you. I love you, I love you, look I'm catching up a bit.

"Of course I do." she quipped teasingly, brushing her lips against his cheek. "Moping’s done no one any good, darling; she’ll always be here for you as you’re there for her. As I’m here for you.” Kaye laughed, resting into his arms like it was second nature. “No, you have not, and yes, it’s been twenty-four hours. If you want to say it now, it’d be much appreciated.”

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Wes sighed again, nodding along as Kaye turned everything he was feeling into something that made sense. "You have a point there," he admitted, a wry smile spreading across his face as he thought about everything Maxx hadn't gotten into when she'd been here. "I know, I know. It's been a bad week, and I certainly don't have the right to complain, not when I can text her whenever I feel like." His hold on her tightened just a little. "Have I told you I love you recently? I feel like it's been a whole twenty four hours, I'm off my game, babe."

She smiled, listening intently to Wes and nodding understandingly. “You’re making perfect sense, babe, I get it.” she spoke softly, not wanting to break the state of peace they were in. “Ever since Maxx got here, our sense of ‘normal’ changed, though, didn’t it? And of course,” she squeezed his hand gently, “Of course you miss your sister; she is, after all, your sister, and I’m sure she misses you too. But it’s not like you’re saying goodbye forever, yeah? Because there’s Skype and texts and all these things — for the most part, nobody has to say goodbye forever…” Kaye’s voice trailed off, looking up at Wes and nestling into his shoulder even more.

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His arms wrapped around her automatically, letting her play with his fingers and grinning at absolutely nothing. "Can it be both?" he asked. "I think I'm feeling both. It's weird because of how weird it is. Does that make sense?" Wes sighed, adjusting his position and brushing his lips over the top of Kaye's head. "This is normal. This is the way things were before she moved out here. I should be grateful for the quiet, but for whatever reason...I miss my sister."

Brunette curls bounced as the girl walked up the stairs; it was only Caroline home, thankfully, and she was nice enough to let Kaye in as soon as she’d opened the door to her. As she reached the familiar door to Wes’s room, Kaye swung open the door slowly, meeting the sight of her boyfriend sprawled across his bed, arms inviting and outstretched. With a grin to match his own, Kaye plopped down right beside him, taking his hand in hers and peering up at the ceiling he was fixated on, too. “I know, it’s crazy — good or bad crazy, I’m not quite sure of yet.” glancing at the boy for a moment before looking back at the ceiling again, “How do you feel about all of it?” Kaye asked.

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Wesley was lying on his bed, propped up against the abundance of pillows scattered over the mattress and waiting for Kaye to let herself into the room. Once upon a time he would have taken the time to meet her at the front door and let her inside, but he was comfortable, and he was pretty sure Kaye knew her way around his house better than he did. He heard the squeak of the door and smiled, not looking away from where his eyes were tracing the swirls on the ceiling but holding his arms open for her to come lay down with him. "It's quiet around here. Weird, right?"

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@bolim: i haven't seen my mom in like two weeks i'm a little hyped man @wesdunn

@wesdunn: @bolim but....2am

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@bolim: Not even going to complain about my 2 AM flight. 😌

@wesdunn: @bolim normal people complain at least a little about a 2am flight