Page 5 of Wrecked
Wes was supposed to be his predecessor, not me. He couldn’t just name his first son after himself. He had to pack a punch. Thus, Wes Westin was born to continue the family legacy. Little Wes made it clear right from the start that he’d cause trouble for our family name, so Nathaniel rounded up the best doctors—and petri-dishes—money could buy and ensured he had another son. His namesake.Andhis biggest failure. He just doesn’t know it yet. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I drive away from the dreams he has for me.
The dreams he has for himself.
I pull up to the high school, my anger from our fight starting to dissipate with the thoughts of escaping this place. I’d arranged to get a physics tutor so that I can bring up my grade before midterms. Nine months to go until I toss my cap in the air, jump in my car, and drive to Ohio State University with a full scholarship and a severed connection to Nathaniel Westin.
I hope the tutor the school provided knows his stuff because physics does not come easily to me. I’m going to need some kind of miracle worker here. Senior year just started, and I am already falling behind. I usually do pretty well in school, butNathaniel has kept me busy as his right-hand for all charitable event work lately. It’s election year, so he needs to con everyone into thinking we are a strong, united family.
Thatkind of hard work doesn’t leave a lot of time for studying.
You’d think he would promote the importance of maintaining good grades considering I’m expected to go to law school like him, but he probably plans to bribe my way into an Ivy League. His disappointment of a son couldn’t possibly get accepted without the promise of a new faculty building.
I walk toward the school trying to think of who I might be paired up with as my tutor. I don’t exactly hang out with the honor roll crowd, so I’m sure I won’t even know who this guy is. As captain of the football team, he will definitely know who I am. I just hope this person isn’t a pain in my ass.
There is no need for small talk or friendship. Teach me the shit I need to know and then move along. I don’t need a single connection to this town. My superficial friendships are easy to leave behind. Something real means something to let go of or walk away from. It means letting someone see behind the mask that I have perfected since middle school. Letting someone get to know the real me and not the self-absorbed-rich-kid-without-any-ambition part that I play. Having a real friendship means being vulnerable. It means exposing my life for what it actually is rather than the fairytale my parents pretend we are living.
I make my way into the library, where the school counselor said my tutor would be waiting, but I don’t see him. Figures I’d get assigned to the one nerdy kid who doesn’t get to school early. I scan the room, looking for a table, and realize my options are unlimited. The school library isn’t exactly swamped on a Saturday…or ever.
There is only one person here, a girl in the back corner. She sees me notice her and lifts her hand in a shy little wave.
She’s fuckinggorgeous. Definitely not in my class.
My feet begin to move without my permission, making my way over to her table. The tables are clearly better on that end of the library, right?
Her beautiful green eyes rise to meet mine and I swear my heart skips a whole damn beat. Jesus Christ. Who am I? Shakespeare?
Her full pouty lips lift on one side, giving me a half smile as she tucks a piece of her dark auburn hair behind her ear. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I’ve never had this reaction to a girl before. It’s like I’m gasoline and she’s a match; I’m drawn to whatever dangerous fire is about to burn between us. I feel this invisible string pulling me closer, while my common sense is yelling DANGER! No connections!
I try to pull myself together before I open my mouth and start spitting sonnets instead of game. This is ridiculous. She’s probably as fake and self-absorbed as every other girl I’ve messed around with at this school. I know exactly what she sees when she looks at me. My dad’s money. Myfuturemoney. My last name. She’d happily entertain the rich football captain who doesn’t have a proper thought in his brain, she’d probably prefer it that way.
Afterthatlittle motivational speech, I feel the allure slip away and I veer left instead of right, heading in the opposite direction of her. I don’t need any distractions right now. No matter how “mesmerizing” her eyes are.
I hear the girl clear her throat before she nervously calls out to my retreating back, “Um, Nat-Nathan?”
“Yeah?” I don’t bother turning around to look at her, but her sweet voice wraps around me like a warm blanket. I want to hear more, but I’m not flying into her web again. I already lost my senses with a single look.
“I, um…well, I mean, we can sit wherever. There is just usually less distraction in this corner.”
Less distract…
No.
She’s my tutor?
She is my tutor.
Well, this is just fucking fantastic. The girl that just made my fucking heart jump out of my chest is my damn tutor. Which means she’s smart…andthatputs her a thousand leagues above the other girls I was just comparing her to.
I turn around to face her and I’m smacked in the face with her beauty. Less distraction?She’sa distraction.
Shit.
Maybe I can request a new tutor.
“Um, Nate…did you want to sit somewhere else?”
“Nate,” I repeat slowly, trying it out. I walk over toward her, suddenly forgetting my plan to get a new tutor.
“Nathan. Sorry, I…I don’t know. You just look more like a Nate. It, uh…fits you.”
