Like fire, this burning desire (Wes)

[DAN KAPLAN]

Tommy had woken up really early that morning to start his homework, but then he’d gotten really distracted by Vlogbrothers videos. Okay, so he really liked homework, actually he hated homework, but still, he figured he had to say he liked it if he wanted his teachers to vote him for President in twenty five years. But Vlogbrothers videos were so much more exciting, especially the ones where he put peanut butter on his face, and the ones with Hank’s dog in them because…well, dogs were awesome, okay?

And then Sparky had had to go outside and pee, and then he’d promised himself he was going to do his homework, and then he’d gotten distracted again by the new Manheim Steamrollers album which was totally awesome, and then he’d gotten even more distracted because it was lunchtime and he’d had to go get ice cream from the dining hall because ice cream was good, and then he’d tried to do his homework, but then he’d had to go to the bathroom, and then he’d tried again, and then he’d gotten distracted by Tumblr. And then he’d gone to get more ice cream because he was hungry again, and now he was here, trying to do his Geometry homework and failing miserably because Geometry was really boring, and Sparkly kept licking his hand.

And also, Tommy’s best friend in the whole world Wes was supposed to be showing up soon to work on their science project. Wes was a sophomore, but since Tommy had already taken Chemistry at his school, he was taking biology this year with all the cool sophomores at Baum. Tommy didn’t like science, but Wes was really, really cool, and Tommy knew that any science project Wes was involved in would therefore be really really cool. According to the teacher they were going to be testing whether or not burning trash was a good alternative to landfills, and Tommy had absolutely no idea how they were going to do a science project to come up with an answer to that, but he assumed that Wes would know because Wes was cool enough to know things like that.

He’d gone out to the trash can and lugged like, seven bags of trash up to the room. And he’d gotten some matches from the kid next door, who always seemed to have them in his desk drawer. Now all he had to do was wait.

[WESTON BRODERICK]

How he’d gotten roped into this, Wes would never know. Honestly, he hadn’t even bothered trying to figure it out, because that would have happened was a headache, and he hated those. The was simple enough, of course, if one thought freshmen simple: Tommy. It’d been his idea, this project. And really, who was Wes to be the bad guy and refuse him? He had those goddamn puppy eyes down so well, the kid might as well have been dog spawn; honestly, with the way he was always bouncing all over the place, Wes wouldn’t have been surprised. Telling him “No” was as good as kicking him in the spleen. If that was where abusers kicked puppies. Wes really had no idea and honestly, he didn’t much care. There would be no dog kicking today, not even of Tommy’s little mutt if he chewed on his shoes. That, of course, had been why Wes had chosen to wear his oldest pair today. All the better to teethe Sparky or Spinko or Spindster or whatever the hell his name was with.

He could have been with Angel right now. She’d asked him to hang out—he still had the text message as proof—but he, being the good Samaritan and wonderful friend he was, had backed out on her for this little whippersnapper. She’d been fine with it, of course. She liked Tommy. So did Wes. In fact, he liked Tommy a lot—the kid was funny as fuck—but it was just that there were times…lots of times…when he had other things that needed to be done just as much as science projects or dog walking or presidential campaign planning. Today, however, was not one of those days. Which, of course, was why he was currently knocking on Tommy’s dorm door and wondering why it smelled so strongly of a dumpster in this particular hallway.

The answer, of course, was apparent the moment he opened the door and let himself in.

“Tommy, what the fu—fudge did you do?” he corrected himself. Wes refused to be the one to corrupt this poor boy completely. Hand flying up to his face to cover his nose, it took quite a bit of mental strength not to get his gag reflex going.

Straightening up after a few moments of getting used to the distinctly rotten smell eminating from the pile of seven trash bags stacked in the corner of the room (an effort masked, of course, by petting the dog, who was in fact named Sparky, according to the tags), Wes spoke with a skeptical tone and quirked brow. “You really think we’re going to use that much shit? Stuff. That much stuff.” He shook his head, hoping the boy would overlook the slip up. Obviously, he’d been spending too much time around Xander and Tramp.

[DAN KAPLAN]

Tommy was so excited for this project. Like, more excited for it than he’d ever been for anything in his life.

Actually, that was kind of a lie. He’d probably been more excited for the National Terrier Show on NBC last week. And maybe for his 14th birthday party last November. But other than that, definitely nothing. Oh hey, maybe it was the most excited he’d ever been for a school related thing! Yep, yeah, that was so it. He patted Sparky on the head, grinning with pride. Wes was so smart and cool in every way. This project was going to be so smart and cool, just like Wes. Well, projects probably couldn’t be smart. Could they? With Wes, they probably could. Wow, it really smelled bad in here. Why did it smell so bad? Oh, right the garbage. Duh, Tommy. Obviously garbage was going to smell bad. Why was it so cold? Maybe he’d have to go close the window at some-

“Tommy, what the fu—fudge did you do?”

”Wes!” Tommy jumped up from his chair, running forward to wrap his arms around his best friend’s waist. Wes was so cool. Why couldn’t Tommy be as cool as Wes? Maybe he would be next year, when he was a big bad tenth grader. Fudge? he thought to himself, but maybe it was just some weird use of the word “fudge” that only cool people got to use. That was one of the first things he was going to do when he was President, he decided. He was going to find out what every word that anybody in the world ever used meant, so that he’d know how to use them all in all of his speeches.

"Wes! Are you ready for the project! I'm totally ready. Because I totally know exactly what we're supposed to be doing." He threw his head back, the way he always saw the cool Baum guys do it. He was automatically cooler if he did all the things that cool guys did, right? Right.

“You really think we’re going to use that much shit? Stuff. That much stuff.”

"Uh..." Tommy's mind blanked for a second. He hadn't even thought about how much of this they were actually going to use. Darn it, why was he so bad at thinking? Wes was good at thinking. Wes was really good at thinking; he always thought of everything. Why couldn't Tommy think of everything? Still, he had to play it cool, just like the cool guys did. "Well, yeah. Right? Didn't the teacher say something about sample size needing to be big or something?" He hoped that was right. He changed the subject hurriedly, hoping Wes would forget the question. "So, uh, what'd you have for lunch today?"