Fire Damage

At which a naive youth longs to stop "pretending" and for his "lover" to finally show him open affection. Story generated by a prompt.

            All I do is make fire, a high schooler thought bitterly. He was seated in a desk located in the middle of the classroom, where all could see him. The boy was deep in thought, probably as far as his subconscious. However, his daydreaming was curtailed when a spit wad was lobbed at him via straw. It landed in his cocoa-colored hair, right on the back of his head.

            “What the-?” he whispered to no one. He heard snickering and chuckles to his right. His teal orbs fell toward his offenders. “Collen?” the brunette muttered mournfully, eyeing his (only) best friend who was chuckling with the other students.

            “Westerly Adams!” Westerly’s name was called. He turned his attention to the caller, Mr. Wells. “If you’d be so kind as to pay attention, then I won’t give you a detention.” The fifteen-year-old quickly removed the spit wad in his hair and focused on the science teacher’s lesson.

            After class, Westerly met up with Collen King. “H-hey, Collen!” he nervously chirped to the jock. The older boy just scoffed at Westerly with a chip on his shoulder.

            “What do you want, ‘loser’?” Collen asked, annoyed.

            “I-I was wondering if you and I were still on tonight for studying at my place,” said loser queried with a shy smile.

            “Tch, why would I hang out with a girly-boy like you?” Collen remarked boldly, impressing those around him.

            “But Col--.”

            “Don’t talk to me!” With that, the blond-haired jock turned and sauntered away, as did the others. Westerly wanted to cry. So what if he liked girlish things and took pleasure out of doing womanly activites? It’s what made him him.  

            The long-haired brunette scuttled solemnly to study hall, his last class of the day. He took out a composition notebook he always kept around. It looked ordinary on the outside but inside was anything but average. At the top of the page it read: Making Fire Rules.

            He flipped through a few pages and continued his writing on a page with space left. He wrote: 2/9/11 �" Don’t let attention stray from teacher, esp. Mr. Wells. When best friend betrays you, don’t try to talk to them. They’ll only push you away.  

            I feel like I’m teaching myself to make fire, more than actually preventing it, he pondered. The boy let out a hefty sigh and proceeded to write… At least I have Collen to confide in. No one can act like he can.

            The bell rang and it was time for school to be out. Westerly took his notebook and other valuables to his locker. Others had swiftly gone and left the facility. Slothly, Westerly paced his things one-by-one, including his composition notebook. But it fell out of his bag without his knowing.

            Westerly closed his locker and walked away.
            Collen was still at his locker at the other wing of Lamboria West High School. He was equally slow at leaving school and added everything he needed to his bag. I wonder if Westerly is still here? With book bag in hand, the mint-eyed football player ambled toward his peer’s locker, but he wasn’t there. Collen sighed in disappointment and was hoping to apologize for his inappropriate behavior.

            The sixteen-year-old then spotted the  notebook. Collen picked it up with a large hand and skimmed through it. He took note of the title and last entry. Oh, Westerly, if only there was any easier way to let you down, then you wouldn’t be suffering so much, he thought remorsefully.

            Collen took out a pen and scribbled underneath Westerly’s last entry: REMEMBER THIS �" you aren’t the only one. We are both making fire.  

Author's Note

I can't remember what exactly the prompt said, but it had to do something with an authoress's work's quote. I had done this about a year ago and I said, "Gee, this seems post-able. Why not?" So, here it is. Please review.

Reviews

[selkietales]

I like this, but Collen still seems like a total jerk even at the end. I like how you made Westerly likeable and not overly whiny about his situation or something equally annoying. Also, Westerley's a really funny name! I should totally name one of my future children that lol
Editing side:
"Slothly, Westerly paced his things one-by-one, including his composition notebook. But it fell out of his bag without his knowing." Ok, slothly isn't a word, it should be slothfully. The second sentence is a fragment, I think, and should be joined with the previous sentence or reworded.
There are little things like these throughout, but otherwise it's a good story :)