New To The Feeling

Beth and I sat in a small coffee shop on a Wednesday afternoon. School was a minimum day, but we got out at lunch everyday, anyway. Not that this made any difference.

"I cannot believe you and Wylie got placed together as group members for the rest of the semester." Beth took a sip of her coffee.

"Yeah." I looked down at my steaming cup as the image of Wylie with that black eye came into view.

"Well, you can take him." Beth laughed a bit at herself and brushed her wavy, rich brown hair out of her face. Her bright blue eyes were hiding behind a pair of eyeglasses. She had poor vision and was a candidate for contacts, but she hated the hassle of them, so she stuck with glasses. They fit her face, anyway. Beth had long, thin limbs. She was naturally gorgeous, but didn't stick out among the crowds. I wasn't much of a comparison to her with my deep auburn curly locks and hazel eyes. After eighteen years, my own face became so dull to me, even though Jake assured me I was beautiful, I needed something new.

"How are you and Jake doing?" I looked up. I had been lost in dreamland apparently.

"Oh, uh, fine." I stumbled over my thoughts.

"Oh, uh, fine?" Beth repeated, "That doesn't sound fine."

"No, it really is fine. I mean, we are... us." Beth furrowed her eyebrows at me in question.

"That didn't make sense." Beth giggled a bit.

"I guess, we are who we are. I don't have to be anyone else around him." I nodded my head in agreement with my own statement, but wasn't sure if I believed it.

"Ok..." Beth responded hesitantly, "So, how are all your other classes going. It’s only been like a month in the spring semester and I am swamped with work."

"Same here. AP classes? Bad idea." I laughed.

"Ditto, girl. You read my mind." There was a pause in the conversation. I could see Beth's mind working on something, though I wasn't sure what. She finally explained, "So, um, you got paired with Wylie in the beginning for a poet kind of thing?"

"Yeah, we have to research a poet, but Mr. Lee has already thrown another project at us. We have to know the other person and find out all of their details. I mean, family, friends, favorite food, background, the works!"

"So, you'll know a lot about Wylie?" I wasn't sure where Beth was going with this.

"What are you getting at, Beth?" I seemed to have caught her off guard.

"Uh, well, I mean..." Beth stopped to collect herself and start over, "I just was curious really. I mean, no one seems to know much about Wylie other than the obvious."

"What's the obvious?" I knew she meant he was rude and ruthless, but maybe there was something I'm missing.

"Well, he's mean, rude, inconsiderate--"

I cut her off, "Yeah I know all that."

"He's odd," I watched Beth's face and asked her to continue with my glare, "He's just so... I mean, he shows up with bruises on his face all the time. Haven't you noticed?"

Yeah, I've noticed. I know why, too! I had to stop myself from yelling that at the top of my lungs. I knew Wylie's secret. He confided in me and I have to stick with my promise not to tell anyone.

"Look, Skylar, I know you like to help people. Maybe you can help him?" I, all of a sudden, could feel the calm before the storm. I knew that it was going to be a big project to take on should I decide to stick by him. I knew I would reach breaking point with him and it was not going to be pretty. How is Jake going to take this? He might not be so happy, but it’s worth a try, right?

***

The beach has always been my favorite place on the entire planet. I walked up and down the shore watching the waves crash consistently with the sand. It was late after noon and the sun would be going down soon. The orange glare of the sun beamed off of the rippling tides. I could feel a slight onshore breeze wisp my hair across my face and it fell softly onto my neck and shoulders. An arm wrapped itself around the small of my back and I shivered. I turned to see the face of Jake but was startled by the damaged ego of Wylie.

"Oh my god!" I jumped back from him slapping his hand away. He merely laughed a cynical laugh, "Wylie, what are you doing?!"

"We have some biographies to write, remember?" He poked at me with a slender finger.

"Ugh," I jumped back again, "Ok. Just keep your hands off me, okay?"

"Aw, Skylar, I thought we were friends." Wylie annoyingly pouted at me.

"Yeah, sure." I turned away.

Wylie then produced an oversize towel, which I didn't know he had, and laid it on the sand. He sat down, facing the water, and rested his arms on his knees as he hunched forward. I stood behind him and looked at his silhouette. He was thin, I observed, but still built. He was pale, but still full of life. He was like steel, but I couldn't help but want to know about him.

Wylie patted the ground next to him, implying for me to sit down. I took his invitation and sat cross-legged by his side. I pulled a pen and pad of paper from my large purse and shoved them in his direction.

"Here, you write down what you want me to know, but only what you want Mr. Lee to think I know." I pushed the pen and paper under his nose and he took it and looked blankly at the pages, "How did you know where I was? I thought we were meeting at the cafe around the corner in a half and hour?"

"I knew you'd be here." He replied without looking at me, "Actually I was early and saw you walking, so I guess I didn't know, I just happened to find out." He finally looked at me and smiled. I took note of that brief smile.

Wylie doesn't smile too often, so when he does, I have to treasure it. At this point, I was looking for clues to what makes him happy so maybe, just maybe, I can help.

"So, what should I know about you?" I asked in a cheerful voice.

"You already know it all." He once again was just looking at the paper in front of him.

"Oh, c'mon. What do you like? What's your passion?" I knew that he would get mad at me for trying to be personal with him, but I had to try.

"Passion?" He looked at me; I nodded, "I love sunsets."

"That's not a passion--" Wylie placed a finger over my mouth to stop me and then pointed.

"That," He squinted, "right there, is passion." I followed the path of Wylie's finger to the horizon where he was pointing.

"But--" I tried again to speak, but he stopped me. This time he grabbed my hand and formed it so that I, too, was pointing and he traced the horizon with my hand.

"That is passion. It is burning until it has to finally give in. It gives into another time, hoping that if the burning warmth didn't succeed, the cool air would do better." Wylie dropped my hand. I tried to start again, but he hushed me before I could say a word, "This is passion. The want to do better than those that tried before and the willingness to give in to allow those that come later to try harder than you."

"You're quite the poet." I watched Wylie's calm face. I never knew how tender he could be.

"Shhh," He hushed me, "Just watch."

We sat there, staring at the horizon, watching the sun disappear behind the wrestling ocean. We sat in silence for ten minutes even after the sun was gone and the stars began to appear. I wasn't sure how Jake would feel about this, but this wasn't some romantic moment. It was passion just as Wylie had described it. We were watching one give in to the other, allowing life to move on and hope that the next day proves to be more productive than the last.

"Here." Wylie handed the pad of paper and pen back to me.

"Oh," I flipped through the pages, "You didn't write anything down."

"I know." He gazed out at the ocean again.

"But--"

"I'll bring you enough information to satisfy the Lee-man and his ridiculous project." Wylie stood up and I followed.

He rolled up the towel we were sitting on and we walked quietly to the street where we parted our ways. He walked down the street a bit, before I finally yelled after him.

"You need a ride?" I wanted to run. I knew that car rides were a bad idea with him; you never know where you'll end up.

"Yeah. Thanks." He turned and followed me to my car. I unlocked both doors and climbed in.

"Same rules as before?" He asked jokingly.

"Yes, all rules apply." I responded.

The calm before the storm; I can feel it brewing.