[Wyatt; This Superficial Love by Ruth B]

Wyatt might be a reoccurring character because after writing this, I've become very fond of him.

word count: 2331
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Wyatt Stevens was the only boy who could make me speechless, that is, before Dalton.

It was a week later and despite my offering to introduce Quinn and Dalton to the calm sea that was Jamison High School, we hadn't talked much. Well, Dalton and I hadn't but with Quinn being placed in very many of my classes, I had a tough time steering clear from her.

And when my flying under the radar had really gone south lied in the day where Quinn had been dispersed with me due to last name to another class, our teacher not showing. We were supposed to be learning about triangle similarity and trigonometric ratios yet I found myself sitting beside her on the pavement outside while Wyatt Stevens took pictures of whatever his artistic eye had caught.

And he looked gorgeous, he did, excuse my staring. The photography teacher was directing other students on their assignments, it heavily having to do with foliage and Wyatt had veered off the path, snapping away at whatever his heart desired. He was kneeling on the ground, one knee grazing it as he rested his elbow on the other knee, ripped jeans exposing a cut covered by a Spider-Man bandaid, and his camera was steady in his hands as he concentrated. His jaw, clenched tight and sharp was slightly ticking with every picture he took before he pulled away and assessed what he had done. I'd once asked him what he was doing and he'd told me that he'd look for a picture that spoke to him and if he didn't find it, he'd try a different angle.

The angel of a boy shook his head, stands of chestnut hair framing his face as he pushed one behind his ear and tried out a different position, deciding it perfectly normal to kneel fully, leaning back to where I was sure it would be uncomfortable but Wyatt didn't falter, almost completely on his back as he snapped a shot of a bird perching off a tree branch.

I loved watching Wyatt take pictures, as creepy as it sounded; there was just this way about him. He wasn't completely there, 100% invested in what he was doing as his hair was pulled back into a bun and his breathing was even.

There was a slight determination in his stance and a feeling of confidence although no leisure. Photography was everything to him.

Maybe that was why I liked him so much, he'd had a clear vision and a clear feeling for everything he did. Others must've noticed as well because the teacher had paused and I'd seen a few students looking over to catch him in action. Even Quinn had stopped droning on and on about whatever, eyes trained on the boy in a big, white v-neck, and his ripped jeans that fit his butt so nice that I had a hard time looking at anything else, bright yellow high top converse on his feet.

He was basically the male version of Quinn, outfit-wise and he had the same crinkle in between his brown when he frowned, maybe the resemblance between them was the reason I hadn't distanced myself completely from her. But then again, maybe it was her persistence.

"You like him?"

But for some reason, I didn't want her to know I liked Wyatt... Maybe it was the fear of her ruining what small connection I did have with him so I simply shook my head, peeling my eyes away to focus on another student that wasn't half as interesting. I regretted it instantly, "no, why?"

"Because he's really beautiful," she giggled and I'd looked back at her quickly to catch her eyes on him and her bottom lip pulled into her mouth, "and he's a photographer, complete package if you ask me."

I wanted to take it back; tell her I liked him before she acted on it but I was rooted to my previous words and too awkward to speak up and defend it. I liked Wyatt, I really did and knowing Quinn was good-looking enough to take him away in a second was scary. Still, I stayed silent.

"Would talking to him after class be too forward? Like, he'd think a crack on would be... pervy?" And as usual, I had no idea what she was saying so rephrasing it, she spoke again, "hitting on him? Would he think I was a slut?"

Shrugging, I ignored the internal battle in my head and decided to distract her as class ended, at least until Wyatt was gone and then find a way to convince her to back off. I didn't know how but it seemed to be my only liable option; I was most definitely not telling her my feelings. Not in a million years. "Probably not."

Out if the corner of my eye, I witnessed Wyatt going over to grab something out of his book bag that I'd conveniently sat close enough for him to notice me but not to where it was obvious and I guess I angled myself right because as he passed me, he'd smiled that charismatic smile that had me in a puddle. Of course, I didn't want him to speak to me, I mean... I did but I knew that when he spoke to me, I'd make a stuttering mess of myself so perhaps if I'd had enough control over myself, I'd be urgent to participate in a conversation.

His septum ring shining and that one lone freckle that sat on his jaw had my stomach in knots and I struggled to smile back through my nerves.

He'd waved once he was crouched in the grass, looking for his bag, it seemed. My stomach sunk as I realized that he was engaging in a conversation despite my heart pounding when he spoke, "Hi, Gabe." Biting his lip, he'd looked amongst multiple bags, deciding on which black one was his as they all seemed to be grouped together.

"H-hi."

"Aren't you supposed to be in Ms. Holtzner's class?" He'd asked, pushing more hair behind his ear as he finally found his camera bag beside his book bag and pulled out a few lenses and trying to decide. Quite frankly, they all looked the same to me.

I nodded, before realizing that he wasn't looking at me. My breath hitched as he released his hair tie, waves falling just around shoulder length as he pulled all of it back into a bun again since it seemed to be slipping. And Id stuttered out a reply when his brown eyes met mine again, soft smile indenting his face, "Y-yeah... Yeah."

Way to be awkward, Gabe.

"Yeah," he replied, chuckling almost silent. That was the thing about Wyatt, he was quiet until you got to know him, soft spoken until you'd continued to allow him to speak and even then, there was a gentleness to him as he laughed. "Well, it's really beautiful out here today so you got lucky. Last time I was dispersed, I had to sit in Mrs. Staples' room. She smells like guac and vomit."

I laughed, agreeing and grimacing at how girly the laugh had sounded. I was basically giggling and that was insanely embarrassing. Then again, I always found a way to embarrass myself in front of Wyatt Stevens. My face was hot and I knew I was blushing before Quinn even poked my cheek. Glaring over at her, I frowned, my heart sinking into my stomach and I hugged my knees.

He smiled, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as I attempted to shrink myself in the affects of his gaze. It must've worked because he'd found the lens he was looking for and fit it into his camera before stepping away from me to go bask in the sun. "I'll catch you though, Gabe." And looking at Quinn for the first time, his smile was still as bright but for some reason, knowing that Quinn was into him only made it seem brighter and lowered my confidence in one go, "You too..."

"Quinn," she filled in, giving him that sultry smile of hers that I'd never been more sure was to encourage him to 'crack a fat one' as they say. (Or at least that's what Dalton had slurred about when Quinn wasn't looking. Said he 'cracked a bit of a fat' when he'd pulled me gently on his lap and I could feel his erection underneath me... Safe to say, I left as soon as possible.) My cheeks felt even hotter if possible.

Wyatt's brows furrowed, as if he were a bit embarrassed, and he nodded, "Yeah, Quinn." God, he was so cute.

And when he was finally gone, it was silent and I'd willed myself to calm down, discretely placing my hands on my cheeks to check if they were back to normal. It was completely and utterly quiet until Quinn let out a snorting laugh and it's safe to say that that laugh was the only thing mildly unattractive about her.

And when she'd stopped, I'd probed her to figure out what exactly got her cackling and bellowing so inhumanly. That must've been a stupid question because her eyes went wide and she'd slapped my arm as if we'd been friends for years. Taking my face in hers, she squished my cheeks, forcing me to look straight in her eyes and whispered it like it were a crime, "Well, he's obviously not straight."

"No way," I'd mumbled although it came out as gibberish due to the overwhelming closeness of Quinn's face to mine and her hands pushing my lips into a fish-like position.

"He was so into you." She giggled, pulling at the chub on my face before I'd pushed her away gently and fixed the curls on my forehead. Wyatt didn't like me, what was there to even like? I wasn't much and I didn't talk much either so of course, this felt completely stupid and borderline impossible.

"No," shaking my head, I bit my lip and slouched down a little further, dignity hitting the ground where I'd scratched my Doc Martins carelessly,  "not me."

Quinn scoffed, leaning back a bit and resting back on her elbows as she relished in the sun, "Whatever you say but he's still staring at you."

Turning slightly, I'd caught eyes with a brown eyed boy and he'd looked down sheepishly and spontaneously, he'd given me a tiny closed-mouth smile and pulled his camera to his face, snapping a picture of me. God, I really liked him.

-

After the bell had rang and Quinn had volunteered me to help Wyatt clean up his supplies- a clean up session that was quiet for the most part but had me blushing in the end as Wyatt asked to photograph me for his portfolio- I'd made my way to my seventh period, small smile on my face. Maybe befriending the Aussie girl wasn't all that bad.

And even as I sat at my lonely lab table in Chem, my mind kept wandering back to the boy who's number was in my pocket and I just couldn't stop grinning. Wyatt Stevens had called me 'captivating' he'd called me 'perfect for his project' and asked to take pictures of me outside of school.

He wanted to hang out with me after school.

I was so absorbed in thinking about his eyes and his hair and his septum ring that I hadn't noticed the stool pull out beside me until a Nike bookbag was sat on top of the lab table, my eyes trailing over to catch blond hair. Dalton had kept his eyes on the board and emotionless as he spoke, "Hey."

His voice was empty and his stance was closed, maybe he remembered his drunken escapade and was going to ha as awkward around me as I was around him. All I could remember was his eyes.

All I could think about was the look of fear and pain and his sadness. I didn't let him onto that though, nodding back at him, "Hi."

"How're you?" He'd struggled to make conversation, my eyes blinking back at the fact that he was even attempting and I shook my head as if dismissing my uncertainty.

"I'm okay," still, I couldn't stop resisting the fact that he was so clearly hurt and missing his mother, crying over it even a week ago and I worried for this boy u didn't even know, "you?"

"I'm fine." He spoke curtly, not giving me room to continue and hanging an awkward air above us. I'd let it go.

"Why're you here?"

He shrugged, "Got my classes switched around."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, they were too loud." I'd agreed because I'd been in the same situation before, id never been a good multitask we not had I ever been good at focusing. Dalton seemed to be the same on at least one of those traits. Nodding, I'd caught his eyes.

And then we were just looking at each other.

Blinking, I went to turn away, make things less awkward when I felt Dalton's hand on my face, turning me back towards him. "Wh-what are you doing?"

His thumb brushed across my cheek, showing me a short black hair and he flicked it away, my heart racing at his shrug. I wasn't big on physical contact and having a boy touch my face and whisper was enough to have my heart racing, "You had an eyelash." He must've noticed my hesitancy and as if he could read my thoughts, he'd shut it down before it began, "Forget what happened last week, okay? I was drunk and I most definitely wasn't attracted to you."

I might've been slightly offended and more than slightly speechless.