Saving Wesley

Chapter 01 | Save Me

Prologue |  Save Me

  "I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best."
―   Marilyn Monroe

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"Wesley!" I screamed as I bit back a cry of terror, his small tender fingers grazing my forearm in an attempt to grab me. The small boy groaned in annoyance when he realized he hadn't yet caught me, watching his eyebrows furrowing in determination as I glanced back at him chasing me.

"Dylan, I don't want to chase you anymore! I hate being 'it'!" He cried out, slowing down ever so slightly to prove his point. I giggled at him and my small friend pouted before coming to a complete halt behind me.

Stopping, I turned around and observed him. He was panting, his short breathes coming out in loud raspy pants. He had beads of sweat lingering his forehead and some trickling down his face before he wiped them away.

Walking up to him, I placed my hand on his shoulder before smiling.

"Do you want me to be 'it' then?" Wesley nodded his head rapidly, his dark blonde curls falling in front of his eyes before he sweeps them up by running his fingers through them.

"Yes, I do," He grins, although his smile looks a little off due to the missing two front teeth that had been knocked out, by me. "Try to keep up!"

He takes off running, his boyish giggle bouncing around as he sprints through the trees and bushes surrounding my house. My legs were being pushed to their full extent of excursion, but because I was only 12 and not that much taller than five feet, my legs were short and I couldn't run that fast.

Wesley laughed as he distanced himself from me while throwing his head back. Wesley was in soccer and track, of course he was able to run much faster and go longer distances than me. I let out a small squeal when I almost tripped, barely catching myself before I fell. Wesley turned his head at my small squeal and and slowed down his pace just enough for me to catch up to him.

I was right behind him now, and he let out a small scream of surprise when I just barely grazed my finger tips on his shoulder before he picked up speed again. Groaning, I pushed myself to run faster as my breathing became rigid and uneven, and my legs began to give out from underneath me.

My dark curled hair was everywhere, in my eyes and mouth, and it stuck to my sweat coated forehead . I felt sticky with the sweat covering me.

Wesley turned around and grinned as I slowed my pace to a slow jog, giving up the chase. "Come on, Dyl! Don't give up yet!"

I noticed we were on the side of the road by my house, one that wasn't particularly busy all the time. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a red Prius coming closer and closer to us. Closer to Wesley.

"Wes-" I called out as he stepped foot into the road, and the car was approaching fast, now only close to thirty feet away. Welsey shushed me with a large grin plastered across his freckled face.

"Don't be a chicken, Dylan. I know you're tired but come on, don"t give up." My best friend said, walking backwards into the street. I glanced to my left, seeing the driver now clearly.