speed. No way was he a virgin, not with his arrogance. Maybe he’d already slept with a Lizzy-type before. Whatever. If he wanted to associate with trashy girls like her, he could go for it. I wasn’t about to stop him. He could make his own decisions, his own mistakes. Because Lizzy and those types were mistakes. They never did anything for anyone other than themselves.
Tonight, the dinner table was quieter than normal. I pushed the peas around on my plate. While I was glad Wes wasn’t going to the party, the more I thought about it, the more his comment bothered me. He thought I was so removed from his friends. Eaten alive. Like I couldn’t handle myself at a wild party. Like I was a child.
“Wesley,” Yvonne suddenly said.
I glanced at her. She hardly ever talked to him. She didn’t talk to me that much either, for that matter.
“Your hair. It’s a little long, don’t you think? It might be time to get a haircut. A buzz cut might look…nice on you.”
I wrinkled my nose. I liked Wes’s hair. It was the kind a girl could run her fingers through. Lizzy had already. Man, I was so jealous of her. I was thinking about her as much as I was Wes, but for a completely different reason.
Dinner was quickly becoming awkward. Even P and P noticed. They were glancing from Yvonne to Wes.
“A buzz cut, yes,” my dad agreed. He nodded several times.
A buzz cut? Really? It was too military for Wes. At least he wasn’t back talking them. It would only make things worse, although Dad might view his silence as ignoring them, and that wouldn’t be good either. Why were they bringing this up now?
He took a bite of his spaghetti.
“And your clothes.” Yvonne shook her head. “Your jeans hang a little too low, don’t you think, Jacqueline?”
His mom shifted in her seat a little uncomfortably. “Maybe a little,” she murmured, staring at her plate rather than her son.
“Yes. Your clothes, your looks, your appearance…you might want to try a little harder.” Dad put down his knife and fork. “How you present yourself is important. First impressions mean everything. How do you want people to think of you? Do your clothes and appearance work for you or against you?”
Dad’s tone suggested Wes needed to change and yesterday. Still, Wes didn’t respond, but his knuckles were whitening as he gripped his fork. He was furious, and I didn’t blame him. They were ganging up on him, and he was expected to take it without complaint.
“Really, Wesley, you should talk more. We’re having a discussion here, aren’t we?” Yvonne glanced at Dad, who nodded again. “There’s no reason to be so quiet all the time.”
“Your personality is a little…lacking,” Dad said.
Ouch. How could he say that? That was downright cruel! I wanted to say something, to speak up, but I couldn’t. What if I blushed and stammered? I didn’t have a poker face, and if they figured out my secret desire for Wes…
And I knew better than to speak up for another reason. I didn’t want their watchful eye on me. Sometimes it was better to keep your head down. Of course, when they were making comments about your anti-social behavior, it might be the time to speak up.
“If you shaved more,” Yvonne suggested.
“Wore clothes that fit and weren’t ripped,” Dad added.
“Maybe wore some cologne.”
Was she trying to suggest he smelled? At least Mom wasn’t saying anything, and other than the one comment, Wes’s mom was quiet too. This was terrible. I wasn’t even the subject of their criticisms, and I still felt like I was being scolded. They had that way about them, like they knew best, and we were stupid.
No, they only wanted to help us, even if they were talking down to us. While I thought Wes looked good with his slightly wild hair and his stubble, and he looked hot in his clothes, they weren’t exactly the style that screamed
Tonight, the dinner table was quieter than normal. I pushed the peas around on my plate. While I was glad Wes wasn’t going to the party, the more I thought about it, the more his comment bothered me. He thought I was so removed from his friends. Eaten alive. Like I couldn’t handle myself at a wild party. Like I was a child.
“Wesley,” Yvonne suddenly said.
I glanced at her. She hardly ever talked to him. She didn’t talk to me that much either, for that matter.
“Your hair. It’s a little long, don’t you think? It might be time to get a haircut. A buzz cut might look…nice on you.”
I wrinkled my nose. I liked Wes’s hair. It was the kind a girl could run her fingers through. Lizzy had already. Man, I was so jealous of her. I was thinking about her as much as I was Wes, but for a completely different reason.
Dinner was quickly becoming awkward. Even P and P noticed. They were glancing from Yvonne to Wes.
“A buzz cut, yes,” my dad agreed. He nodded several times.
A buzz cut? Really? It was too military for Wes. At least he wasn’t back talking them. It would only make things worse, although Dad might view his silence as ignoring them, and that wouldn’t be good either. Why were they bringing this up now?
He took a bite of his spaghetti.
“And your clothes.” Yvonne shook her head. “Your jeans hang a little too low, don’t you think, Jacqueline?”
His mom shifted in her seat a little uncomfortably. “Maybe a little,” she murmured, staring at her plate rather than her son.
“Yes. Your clothes, your looks, your appearance…you might want to try a little harder.” Dad put down his knife and fork. “How you present yourself is important. First impressions mean everything. How do you want people to think of you? Do your clothes and appearance work for you or against you?”
Dad’s tone suggested Wes needed to change and yesterday. Still, Wes didn’t respond, but his knuckles were whitening as he gripped his fork. He was furious, and I didn’t blame him. They were ganging up on him, and he was expected to take it without complaint.
“Really, Wesley, you should talk more. We’re having a discussion here, aren’t we?” Yvonne glanced at Dad, who nodded again. “There’s no reason to be so quiet all the time.”
“Your personality is a little…lacking,” Dad said.
Ouch. How could he say that? That was downright cruel! I wanted to say something, to speak up, but I couldn’t. What if I blushed and stammered? I didn’t have a poker face, and if they figured out my secret desire for Wes…
And I knew better than to speak up for another reason. I didn’t want their watchful eye on me. Sometimes it was better to keep your head down. Of course, when they were making comments about your anti-social behavior, it might be the time to speak up.
“If you shaved more,” Yvonne suggested.
“Wore clothes that fit and weren’t ripped,” Dad added.
“Maybe wore some cologne.”
Was she trying to suggest he smelled? At least Mom wasn’t saying anything, and other than the one comment, Wes’s mom was quiet too. This was terrible. I wasn’t even the subject of their criticisms, and I still felt like I was being scolded. They had that way about them, like they knew best, and we were stupid.
No, they only wanted to help us, even if they were talking down to us. While I thought Wes looked good with his slightly wild hair and his stubble, and he looked hot in his clothes, they weren’t exactly the style that screamed
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