Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

a few minutes to regroup and remember.
    When he was twelve, his family moved to Seattle— in part because of his mother's work, but also in part because life at West's old school was approaching unbearable. New kid, new school, new year. In homeroom the teacher seated them alphabetically, and put West behind a tall, dark-haired kid with skinny shoulders named Riley Cooper. While the teacher continued to the D's, West drew in his sketchbook, his head low and his movements small. His parents thought Seattle would be a new beginning for him but he knew it would be just like how it had been at home, that the second the kids figured out he was different they'd make his life miserable.
    The kid turned around and said, "Hey, what're you drawing?"
    "Nothing," West said and pulled a piece of binder paper over his sketchbook. The drawing was the mug full of pens and pencils on the teacher's desk, nothing important, but he liked the arrangement of the pens and the way the florescent light glinted off the black ceramic.
    The kid, Riley, moved the binder paper out of the way as he said, "It's not nothing," and then he was quiet. West flinched, expecting mockery or worse, but instead Riley had a funny look on his face like he'd expected something dumb like monsters or rocket ships and instead got a mug full of pens.
    "That's good," Riley said, looking up at West. "I mean, really good."
    "Thanks," West said, and Riley smiled at him.
    The smile left West dumbstruck. It wasn't mean or teasing, it was just warm and genuine and bright, and West thought, Smile at me like that again. He blushed, lowering his head over his papers before he said anything stupid, but then Riley had to turn around because the teacher was finally at the front of the classroom and passing out schedules for the semester. West thought, Okay, that's over, but knowing it was over made him sad. Riley wouldn't talk to him again, not once he figured West out, but it was nice while it lasted.
    He'd still managed to get the attention of Jesse Snyder and his cronies. By the end of the day his lunch had been stolen and he'd been introduced to the girl's bathroom. When his parents asked how school had gone he said, "It's fine," and spent an hour before dinner figuring out alternative routes to and from school and places where he could hide.
    His favorite place wasn't far out of his way. It was a little red brick church, St. Francis of something. West liked it because the statue in front was of a man with a fawn in his arms, a wolf at his feet and a gentle look on his face. The statue was in a garden with a lot of trees, especially a big oak that had low, thick branches that were perfect for climbing if you were light and spry. He experimented with climbing up it, and figured a guy who was friendly with deer and wolves would understand the need for one boy to hide nearby sometimes.
    School was okay. Sometimes Jesse Snyder forgot about him, finding other kids smaller and less wily to torment, and West was able to eat his lunch and go from class to class in peace. Every day he saw Riley Cooper, who looked like he should be one of those kids who ate lunch with Jesse Snyder's crowd except that his shirts were too big for his narrow shoulders and his jeans were too short for his long legs and he wore the same pair of shoes every day.
    One day Riley came to school with a black eye. West looked at him with dismay, but Riley stared back like he'd land one on West if he said anything about it. When West tried to put a hand on his shoulder Riley shrugged it off like it burned.
    West was walking home not long after that one rainy afternoon when he heard a lot footsteps behind him, and he cringed, knowing what was coming. Sure enough, Jesse Snyder and his whole group surrounded him, shoved him, snatched away his umbrella and yanked on his backpack, called him a girly-girl and worse, words that would get him sent to his room if he used them at home— so West took off running. It was the only thing to do. Home was still too far away to be safe yet and the church was close, and he was little and fast while Jesse was big and clumsy.
    He reached the church first and climbed up into the oak. Safe in its branches, raindrops falling on him from the leaves overhead, he clung to a branch and held his breath when Jesse ran into the garden, his friends on his heels. "West the wuss!" Jesse bellowed. "West the wuss, West the wuss!" they all chanted, when the door to the little house attached to