Saving Laurel

41. Fajitas

Wes Thompson

"I'm nervous." The words come out strained as I go through the motions. Shoulder, neck, inhale, nose.

"You'll be fine." Laurel reassures with a soft smile.

"You, whore! Fuck!" I slam my hand into my chest. That's new, cute. "Sorry. Fuck. You told them about me?"

She smiles. "Yeah."

My tics are getting worse the farther we get from my house. Which isn't all that far apparently, in fact she lives by Sawyer and although I haven't tried to walk to this neighborhood in years, I'm almost certain the path is still there.

I need my tics out and even though I'm not sure how Laurel will react when they get bad, I'd rather do it in her car than in front of her parents. Besides I plan to keep the one hidden for as long as possible. So I stop trying to surpress them, going through almost the whole gambit as I fail and yell.

"Sorry." I mutter in between my shouts.

At some point Laurel's hand finds my leg from across the center console. It's warmth penetrating my jeans and I try to focus on that in hopes it'll calm my tics slightly.

I let out this growl, neck straining before I hit myself in the chest, I really hope that's not going to stick around, and swear but I'm rewarded with a momentary reprieve from it all.

"That wasn't, fuck, too bad. Sorry." I say.

Her hand is still on my leg as she pulls into the driveway and kills the engine.

"It'll be fine." She smiles at me and I'm momentarily distracted as her wet lips catch the sunlight and I wonder what it'd be like to kiss her. "Come on."

Heat rises up my neck as I reel my thoughts back. Slow down there Wesley, I'm pretty sure I'm eternally friend zoned by every member of the female variety. I mean, come on, who wants to deal with all this. I know I don't.

"Fuck!" Shoulder, neck, inhale, nose.

This is going to be embarrassing. But I climb out of the car after Laurel. She's halfway to the door when she glances over her shoulder and looks at me. It's not a smile but I can see the softness in her eyes, the reassurance she's trying to give me. And I really hope it's true.

But I've probably embarrassed myself worse, really what's a little more in the grand scheme of things.

So I stuff my hands in my jeans and trudge up the walkway behind her. I let myself one more tic before she opens the door and calls into the house.

The smell of peppers and onions hits my nose and my stomach grumbles as I glance around the open space. Living room, obviously, there's a giant tv mounted on the wall with a massive sectional in front of it. I bet games look great on it.

"Mom! Dad!" Laurel calls. "We're here!"

Okay, one more tic.  Apparently, smacking myself in the chest is going to stay, awesome.

"Sorry." I mumble to the air, already embarrassment is flooding me and her parents haven't even appeared.

But then I feel Laurel's warm hand against mine, our fingers lacing as her thumb starts to stroke a gentle circle on the back of my hand. I let out a breath as my mind focuses on it and the urge to keep tic-ing decreases.