Chapter 25

Chelsea

 

 

After nearly an hour of riding in Wesley’s car, I just can’t stand the suspense any longer.

“So how far away is this place we’re going to?” I ask him.

“Not very far at all now,” he says.

“And what exactly is it?”

“Well, I decided there’s nothing hotter than taking your virginity in the bed I’ve slept in since middle school.”

“What?” I exclaim.

He doesn’t answer me as he turns into a residential street and then pulls up to a cute brick house, complete with a proverbial white picket fence.

“This is your house?” I exclaim again. “I mean, like, your parents’ house?”

“Yep,” he answers, with a sly shrug.

“It’s so adorable!” I squeal.

“Looks can be deceiving,” he says, mysteriously and rather glumly.

“Meaning…?”

“I can’t believe their car is in the driveway. They weren’t supposed to be here. But just remember. What’s inside doesn’t always match what’s outside,” he says, which doesn’t explain much.

“Well, geez. I’m honored.”

He shrugs as if it’s no big deal, and gets out of the car. As he walks around to the passenger side to open the door for me, I can’t believe what’s happening. I’m thinking I have to be at least a little bit special, for him to bring me to his parents’ house.

As he knocks on the door, he says, “Brace yourself.”

“For what?” I ask, but then a smiling, attractive woman opens the door.

“Wesley!” She exclaims. “What a surprise! It’s so nice to see you!”

“Hi Mom,” he says, and gives her a half hug.

I’m surprised that his mom is so young. Not everyone had kids as young as my dad and mom were when they had me and I’m used to seeing parents who look old enough to be my grandparents.

“And who did you bring to meet us?” she asks, pointing her big smile at me.

“No one,” he says, annoyed. “I mean, sorry, Chelsea. I didn’t mean you were no one. I just meant, Mom, that I didn’t bring her to meet you. We just came to chill out. I thought you and Dad were on a cruise.”

“Your dad’s knee flared up again, and so we postponed it,” his mom says. “We want to be able to do a hike around the islands that the ship stops at.”

Wesley sighs, and says, “Sorry, Chelsea. I really thought we’d be alone.”

“Hi, I’m Chelsea,” I say, and extend my hand.

“I’m Silvia,” she says, smiling again. “Wesley’s mom. Nice to meet you.”

I don’t understand why Wesley sounds so negative about everything. I would love to be able to have him meet my mom.

But as we enter the house, a big booming voice calls out, “Silvia, who the hell is it?”

“If you’d have just answered the door yourself like I’d asked you to, dear, you would have seen that it’s our darling son!”

Her voice is dripping with so much passive aggressive resentment that I can’t help but shoot a confused look at Wesley.

He raises his eyebrows at me, as if to say, “I told you so.”

“You know I have this bum knee,” he says. “I can’t be up and about answering the door and doing everything else you think I should do for you, when I’m the one who’s injured.”

And then his tall, towering figure appears in the living room.

“Ronnie, this is Wesley’s… friend… Chelsea,” Silvia says, her smile looking even bigger now, but obviously fake.

“Oh no you don’t,” shouts Ronnie, although I’m not sure if he’s talking to Wesley or his mom. “Don’t be encouraging him to bring his little hook-ups to our house. I did all this work to save his ass and now he’ll never get back to Huningdale if he goes and does all his stupid shit with this blonde little cheerleading-looking girl all over again. No offense, hon.”

He looks at me and nods, and then aims his glare back at Silvia.

“Honey, I think it’s great that Wesley’s found a nice girl,” she says, obviously unperturbed. “You should just let him live his life…”

“Let him live his life!” He shouts, as if Wesley and I aren’t standing right there. “Let him live his life! Look how good that’s turned out so far!”

“Come on, Chels,” says Wesley, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs.

His chin is tucked down and his cheeks are slightly red. This isn’t at all the cocky stance I’m used to seeing, and I can tell he’s so embarrassed.

As we head to his bedroom, I can still hear his dad going off about “letting him go up there to make all the same mistakes, because he had to be raised with a coddling mother like you,” and his mom saying, “Oh calm down Ronnie, he’s just a handsome boy who can’t help but attract girls…”

“Wow,” I whisper as soon as Wesley closes the door. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Yeah.”

He sits down on the bed, looking defeated.

I sit down next to him, not sure of what to say and fearing I’d already said too much.

“You were so open with me at the amusement park that I feel I should tell you something,” he says, his eyes wide open and looking rather fearful.

I take a crazy guess.

“Is it about why you were afraid to ride The Beast?” I ask him.

“Something like that,” he says, looking obviously embarrassed once again.

And I don’t know what I’m more shocked about— the crazy scene I just witnessed between his parents, or the fact that badass, cocky as shit Wesley Reynolds is about to tell me something that makes him vulnerable.