Birdie by M.C. Carr

Author:M.C. Carr
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: BKC Publishing
Published: 2016-01-01T23:00:00+00:00

Birdie

I want to get Tim a birthday present. I learned from Esther that it’s at the end of May and I think it’s fitting to celebrate after all he’s done for me. Wesley offered to drive me into Holcumb, the nearest larger town where the stores have more options. Which I need since Tim is private and a slave to routine. I take my entire paycheck from this week and everything I saved up in April and stuff it in my purse. I have four hundred dollars saved. And every penny is going to go to Tim.

The mall feels like a reprieve from Shenoah. School hasn’t been the most serene of environments to expose our relationship. After my declaration, I swallowed my nerves and rode with Wes to school the next Monday. As we walked through the parking lot, I took his hand. His eyes flew to mine in surprise and I gulped but held on. The reaction from the student body wasn’t the onslaught I prepared for but it wasn’t all roses and daisies either.

Rachel was of course pissed. It materialized in the form of cold glares but that was mostly for Wes since cold glares were the foundation of our relationship all along. Garret wasn’t too happy either. Wes informed me of this as he worked his shoulder out after a light football scrimmage in PE. Apparently, Garret decided to work on his tackling skills and Wes was the lucky recipient of his focus.

And I did feel like a spectacle at the zoo while Wes and I sat in the courtyard to eat lunch. Students couldn’t keep from flicking their eyes towards us and some openly stared. Lacey was unchanged. She still found me halfway through lunch time after hanging with Ben in the library and plopped down next to me. The only difference was she broke my candy bar in half and offered it to Wes.

That’s the extent of the changes we experienced. Wes’s friends steer clear when we’re hanging out and still flock around him when we’re apart. I still go about the hallways keeping to myself. I don’t like the additional whispers and the feeling of eyes on my back but it’s a small price to pay for Wesley Lott, I suppose.

That’s why I’m excited as we peruse the huge color coded mall map that’s hocking expensive eyewear on the other side. We can be among people again who don’t know us and I don’t have to move under the weight of covert stares.

“What are we getting him?” Wes asks me.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you stuff a couple twenties in your wallet that I didn't see? Are you contributing to this gift?”

“Yes, I am. My contributions aren’t monetary. They’re much, much better.”

“Oh?”

“Every minute of Wesley Time is actually stronger than the U.S. Dollar. Calculate that with gas money, the advice of a man, and my sought-after attention…”

“Your inflated head is blocking my view of the map,” I quip, miming trying to look around him at the list of stores.

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