Author's note: Hello, everyone! I know I haven't updated anything in - cringe - years, but that's okay. If you got to this story link because I'm still on your alerts page... hello. If not, hello to you too! This is the first time I'm posting in this fandom, and it's nothing really that special, but I had the urge to write it forever. The book is one of my favorites, and I reread it today, so the urge was stronger now than ever. Pretty much, it's just Wes's point of view from one of my favorite scenes in the book. I know it's over done, and a bunch of people write from Wes's point of view, but it just wouldn't stop nagging me. And I almost didn't post it because... well, Wes is a very complex character and I find it hard to pin point him exactly, so I wouldn't be surprised if any of you told me he was out of character. However, I feel like it's kind of hard to capture his point of view because toward the end, Kristy informs us that "it was even obvious to Wes" how he felt about Macy when she was so blind about it... which it makes us question how many things Macy didn't catch onto or things she may have misconstrued when they were hanging out together during entire novel. If that made any sense at all.
Now, if you've made it through my author's note, I give you kudos. I rambled. Anyway, I obviously don't own any of these characters, situations, dialogue... it's all Sarah Dessen's. I do wish Wes was mine though, if you get what I mean.
Enjoy, and review at the end if you'd like!
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I didn't know the exact reason I was here. I mean, sure, I was here to ask Macy where the tongs were, but even I knew it was more than that. We live in the twenty first century; let's be realistic. I could've called instead. I could've even texted, but all I kept coming back to was that Delia had specifically asked me to "stop by" and at this point, I'm all for excuses to justify my actions. Even if they were blatantly wrong and totally not what I'm supposed to be doing, given both of our relationship statuses.
I rounded the corner and made my way into the entrance of the library, which, by first examination, was pretty boring. The library itself was large, but there was practically no one here and the sound of silence was loud and deafening. I didn't know how Macy did it, staying cooped up in here almost every day sitting at a desk.
It wasn't long before I spotted her, sitting at a desk with her eyes wide staring at me. I smiled and made my way over, not failing to notice the pair of girls – I didn't care enough to really examine them – straighten up and look as if they were excited. Well, if this was the most exciting part of their day – my appearance – I felt sorry for them.
"Hey," I greeted, reaching her side of the desk.
Her eyes weren't wide anymore, but instead smiling themselves. "Hey."
"So look, I was –"
Before I even finished my sentence, one of the girls from the other side of the desk interrupted. "Excuse me?"
I looked over in curiosity, my eyes locking with the girl who had spoken. She looked over at me with a grin, her eyes beaming behind her glasses. "We can help you over here. Did you have a question?"
Huh. "Um, sort of," I replied. I couldn't help but smile as Macy and I exchanged a glance. Only Macy would know the answer, unless these two girls also worked at the party last night and I didn't notice. "But –"
"I can answer it," the girl said, her smile growing wider. I watched as her friend nodded in confirmation, as if she was going to change my mind with her agreement.
I felt my eyebrows raise and I looked at Macy again. She didn't offer any commentary except a shrug, so I just brushed the girl's offer off. "Really, it's fine," I replied politely, turning back to Macy. "Okay, so –"
"She's only a trainee, she won't know the answer," the girl said loudly, interrupting yet again and now dragging her chair over to our side of the desk.
God, this girl was relentless. I'm a pretty patient guy, but realistically, this was pushing it. "You know," I started, staring back at the girl. "I think she'll know it."
The girl didn't back down. "She won't. Ask me."
I was getting annoyed, and for more than one reason. First, if I want to ask a question to Macy, I should be able to. She's a smart girl – who uses SAT words in every day conversation besides her, I'll never know – and second, this girl was incredibly rude. I'm all for manners, and this girl was not expressing any of them. But hey, if she wanted to play this game, then we would.
"Okay," I began, moving closer to her. I watched as now both girls were attentive, ready to give me any answer I could possibly ask for regarding the library system. "So here's my question."
I felt myself smirk as I watched one of them grab a pen.
"Last night, when the supplies were being packed up, what happened to the big tongs?"
I tried my hardest not to smile, but it was increasingly difficult. Both of them just stared back at me, expressions blank. I let the question linger for a few seconds longer before one of them responded, "Well."
I raised my eyebrows and looked at her friend. "Do you know?"
The other girl just shook her head, obviously disappointed with herself. I moved back toward Macy. "Better ask the trainee, then. Macy?" I asked, now back in front of her.
She was grinning ear to ear, despite the death looks she was now receiving from the two girls. "They're in the bottom of the cart with the broken back wheel, under the aprons. There wasn't room for them with the other serving stuff."
As she was speaking, I envisioned the tongs sitting there, right where I had watched Monica place them. I smiled. I knew Macy would remember. "Oh, of course."
The girls moved their chairs back to their original places. Once they left, I muttered, "nice co-workers."
Macy showed no shame. "Oh yeah. They hate me."
Just as she was speaking, the girls stopped moving their chairs, making Macy's statement pretty much an announcement. I watched for a reaction, but she didn't seem to care and carried on our conversation. "So anyway, what's going on?"
I sighed. "Typical Wish chaos. Delia's freaking out because one of the coolers broke last night and everything in it's gone bad. Kristy and Monica are at the beach, so now she and Bert and I have to make five more gallons of potato salad on the fly and work this job with just the three of us. Then, I'm on my way back from a mayonnaise run when Delia calls up, hysterical, saying we have no tongs and I should come here and ask you," I explained, taking a breath. "So how's your day so far?"
She just dismissed my question. "Don't ask."
"Has the boyfriend shown up yet?"
There it was: the question I had thought about all morning. I had debated asking it, but I guess it was too late now. Plus, she should be used to me knowing things, especially when someone as loud as Kristy is around.
She shook her head and sighed, and for a second I thought I saw dread flicker across her features. "Nope. Not yet."
"Well, just think, it could be worse," I offered. She seemed saddened by my question, and I hadn't meant to do that. I tried to make it seem a bit better. "You could be having to make potato salad. Just imagine being up to your elbows in mayonnaise."
I almost laughed at the face she made in response. "The point is, we could really use you. It's too bad you can't get out of here."
Okay, what was I doing? I shouldn't be tempting her out of her job, especially when it meant so much to her boyfriend. And when said boyfriend was supposed to be showing up in about five seconds anyway.
When I say I truly didn't expect her response, I really didn't. No one was more surprised than me when she said, "Well, maybe I can."
I felt my eyebrows shoot up as began to get out of her chair. "Hey," she called out to the girls. "You know, I think I'm going to go."
One of the girls immediately protested. "But you don't get off for another hour," she stated clearly, as if it was obvious.
"You shift ends at one," the other girl added, glaring at Macy.
Neither of these statements seemed to faze Macy, because she just gathered her belongings and picked up her bag. "Well," she began, "something tells me you're not really going to miss me."
"If you leave now," one the girls continued, "you can't come back."
Macy didn't seem to care about this fact as she responded happily, "You're right. I can't."
I watched in astonishment as she pushed in her chair in neatly, a look of determination on her face. She tried to walk around the girls, but when neither of them moved, she sighed and tossed her purse on the ground next to my feet. Before I could even gage what was happening next, she swung one leg over the side of the desk and hopped over, landing perfectly on her two feet.
"Wow," I breathed, clearly impressed. "Nice dismount."
She smiled. "Thanks."
She picked up her bag and began to walk toward the exit, not looking back even as the girl tried one last time, "Macy, what are you doing?"
When it was clear Macy didn't plan to respond, I quickly caught up and fell in step next to her. The look of determination was still on her face, and I wanted to know just what exactly it was she was thinking. I held the door open and she walked outside. I watched as she grinned vibrantly, with the brightness of the sun, the smile this time reaching her eyes.
Whatever she's thinking at this moment, I hope it's something along the lines of how incredible and brilliant she is, because in that case, she's one hundred percent right.
