Wes & Toren

Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
About the Author
By J.M. Colail
Visit Dreamspinner Press
Copyright


Wes & Toren
By J.M. Colail
It’s not so easy being young, gay, and in love for the first time at the average high school.
Senior Toren Grey cares more about his family and his grades than what brand of clothes he wears. Majority consensus is that he’s a nerd. So he’s surprised when resident bad boy Wesley Carroll speaks to him in the hall, stirring feelings that Toren has to hide.
Though disconcerted by Wes’s free and easy ways, Toren can’t deny the attraction between them. As he relaxes and gets to know Wes better, he finds there’s more to the sexy rebel than his public image. Before long the young men are exploring new territory and falling in love, but life just isn’t that simple. After they graduate, obstacles block their relationship at every turn: Wes working versus Toren in college, the virulent disapproval of parents, and everyday trials faced by any struggling young couple. Wes and Toren have to believe in each other… and never doubt that their love can conquer all.


To You and You,
You know who you are.


Chapter 1
WESLEY CARROLL trudged down the hall in his ripped jeans, white T-shirt, and old red Converse low-tops. A grin lifted the corners of his lips and I felt my stomach twitter in reaction.
“S’up?” he said, passing by me. I felt my heart skip, my stomach drop, and my mouth go dry. He stopped beside me and flashed his grin again. “Cool shoes.”
I was wearing a pair of old brown work shoes, clunky leather things with thick soles. I suddenly thought of an email I’d received of ridiculous pickup lines: Nice shoes. Wanna fuck? I blushed deeper, like Wesley could hear my thoughts.
“Thanks,” I stuttered, trying to conceal my reddening cheeks.
Wesley smiled again, said “See ya,” and continued on his way. Everyone knew him because he was the troublemaker, the kid from the wrong side of the tracks, the risk-taker, the school’s pot dealer. I’d watched him from afar, a middling crush, but this was the first time he had spoken to me, and he left my stomach filled with butterflies.
After English Lit, Hailey stopped me and smiled, typically pretty and a little superficial, flashing her pearl-white teeth and asking if she could borrow my notes from class. She touched my arm when I told her that she could, and she promised she would return them by the end of the day. I suspected she was flirting with me, but Wesley was still on my mind and I blushed all over thinking about him.
I ate lunch outside in front of the school, sitting cross-legged on a cement rectangle that served as a giant planter for a tree and evergreen shrubs. It was unseasonably warm for spring, but the ground was still thoroughly cold and transmitted the chill through the concrete to my thighs and rear end. I took out a book while I picked at my ham sandwich and ate my apple. I still packed juice boxes in my lunch and slurped it while I read.
I was used to eating alone; I preferred my own company to the loud and obnoxious kids that talked about nothing. I didn’t think I was better than anyone else (well, maybe just a little; I had some culture) but I was shy and often earned the epithet “nerd” for getting good grades. Solitude was better than being ridiculed any day of the week.
Before sixth hour, I went to my locker for my history book. It was a heavy tome that we mostly skimmed through, studying about every other chapter. I looked over my shoulder and Wesley was walking toward me. I quickly looked down but strained my eyes to the side to see him.
“Hey, Toren,” he said and held out a green notebook. “This is yours, right? Hailey borrowed it?”
I looked at the notebook and nodded.
“I told her that we had history together and that I’d give it back to you.”
“Oh, um, thanks.”
It was like he knew he made me nervous. Suddenly, he threw his head back and snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah. Hailey wanted me to tell you ‘thanks’ and that you were, what did she say? Oh yeah, super cool.” He laughed and I tried to laugh with him, but my lips smiled crookedly. “Well, see you in class.” He waved slightly and walked away.
People were walking past me and fortunately, no one knew why my face was so flush. My locker was near the classroom and I went inside, sitting in the second row. Wesley probably went to go smoke or was skipping class. Mr. Hannity was a minute late and Wesley strolled in later than that, whispering, “Sorry.” He glanced at me as he passed, moving to his seat in the back row.
I went home with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Alycia was at swim practice, Mom worked the midshift at the hospital, and I was glad to have the place to myself. I did some homework, but my mind drifted to Wesley to the point of distraction.
After an hour, and an hour before Alycia came home, I found myself in the bathroom, clutching the sink, pushed in there by urgings that wouldn’t be sated with mere thoughts. It was the first time that I touched myself with an actual person in mind and I felt ashamed, as if Wesley knew by some kind of masturbatory telepathy.
Alycia came home, kicked off her shoes, and moved around the small kitchen, taking a can of tuna from the cupboard. She left the apron hanging on the hook inside the pantry, and I warned her that if she spilled on her clothes, I wasn’t going to