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    Westley D.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Tuct Side - 25. Chapter 19

There was no time to sit and ponder the events that transpired earlier, for Cynthia’s wedding was only three hours away. Because of this, West had to skip football practice, he and Kaspar riding over to Tuct-In for a quick visit.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see Cyn in a wedding dress,” Theresa voiced excitedly as she applied makeup with her pocket mirror. “You know, she never wears dresses? Always rolled with the boy’s crowd, I never thought this day would come, to be honest.”

West and Kaspar sat behind her desk, both suited up – blue and red dress shirts respectively with tuxedo pants. The former had his camera around his neck, ready for use during the ceremony.

The blond smiled, nodding enthusiastically. “Us, either.”

West didn’t know Cynthia too well these days, but she always seemed comfortable being one of the boys, always willing to play football, basketball, video games, or whatever Justin and his friends were up to when she would visit.

“And her guy?” she continued. “Just the right man for her. He’s such a gentle soul, too. Soft-spoken and all. Someone to be the water to Cyn’s fire.”

Kaspar’s red brows furrowed. “What’s his name?”

“Malachi Withers. Cyn and I knew him when we went to Patriot. In fact, I think he was a lot like you, West,” she winked at said boy. “Blond, popular, and just about good with everyone he met. The man could make friends with a fly if he so wanted.”

“Sounds about right,” he patted his cousin on the back, making the latter roll his eyes at the former’s amusement.

Half an hour later, West left to go to the upstairs bedrooms. He greeted the other children who were also dolled up for today’s nuptials, but his eyes searched for one boy in particular.

“Hey, Clutch!”

West spun around to find Jack exiting the restroom and waving cheerfully at him. Over the time spent working here, the two boys have grown quite attached. West loved the seemingly endless prattlings his younger companion would go on while he never failed to reciprocate with stories of his adventures playing basketball.

“’Sup, bud! You ready for today?” he walked over to give him a high-five. Earlier in the week, he had asked permission to take Jack back to his house for pictures.

“I think. I’ve never seen someone get married before.”

“Well, prepare yourself to see it a whole lot this week, man.”

It was only Cynthia’s wedding the group home was attending as a whole, seeing as how Theresa had been friends with the bride for pretty much their entire lives. The kids didn’t need to be shuffled around for marriages between other couples they did not know. West would have had the same luxury if those couples weren’t related to a few of his football buddies.

West and Jack returned downstairs together where the other kids were running around in formal clothing in the living room. Kaspar and Theresa were present in the adjacent kitchen with…

“Double Clutch,” Bran Morterero lifted his chin in greeting.

West felt his stomach dip a little, nearly freezing on the spot. Going to great lengths to keep the caution out of his voice, he curled his lips into a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Bran? Hey, dude.”

He connected eyes with Kaspar, whose face was carefully blank.

Jack, completely unlike the two, was ecstatic, racing up to the big man. “Hey, Bull!”

“Jacko, my man! What’s up with you, boy?” he planted a huge hand on the boy’s head and ruffled it a bit.

The sight of Bran and Jack conversing made West swallow a lump of complaints. He could never shake off the bubbling apprehension he felt when the older Morterero was within touching distance of the kids, much less Jack.

“Should have figured he’d tag along,” Kaspar ambled over to sit on a tiny, blue plastic chair beside his cousin.

West blew out a quiet breath. “Yeah.”

Theresa narrowed her gaze into her pocket mirror, her lips pursed in dissatisfaction. “I’m gonna do some last-minute touches. Watch over these little rascals, will ya, guys?”

“It better be a minute, babe,” Bran laid a brief kiss on her cheek as she rolled her eyes playfully.

“Yes, sir.”

When she disappeared, West felt as if his only line of defense abandoned him. Here was a man twice or three times his size, and he only had to bulldoze through two rangy teenaged boys to get to the kids shrieking behind them in the living room. Jack had moved on to play with the other kids, but that didn’t mean they were safe. Whatever his intentions were that one day where he caught Jack alone, having lied about just speaking with his fiancé, West has come to realize that they weren’t pure.

“Just stay away from my brother. I know you’re a butterfly when it comes t’ people, but don’t try shit this time. Nothin’ good will come of it.”

But he couldn’t stay away if the guy popped up whenever he wanted. Couple that thought with the random AMBER alerts, then it would seem that West would be wrong to stay away. This guy needed to be watched at all times.

His green eyes searched the kitchen they were in, failing to see a sharp object in sight.

His stomach plummeted. They were defenseless.

“You guys wanna head out?” Bran looked between the two, his lips curled in what others might perceive as mischievousness. “I can watch out for them if you wanna go.”

“Nope,” Kaspar’s answer was stern and devoid of any niceness. “It’s our job to look after them and that’s what we’re gonna do.”

West wished he had Kaspar’s guts, the redhead glaring directly at the older male with his arms crossed as if watching his every move.

Bran raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Dedicated to the cause, I see. I just figured being teenagers and all, you’d wanna get gone with a paycheck still in your hands. You sure you don’t want me t’ take over for ya?”

West shook his head and replied in a gentler tone. “We’re good. We actually like kids. We have to since they make up most our… fanbase, if you know what I mean.”

“You should know what that’s like, right?” Kaspar lifted an eyebrow. “Or not. I’ve never heard of ‘Bull’ before.”

It felt like it happened in a microsecond, West was shocked he even caught it at all, but he thought he noticed Bran’s expression shift. An eye twitched, a movement found in his cousin and Justin that told him their ire was on the rise. The smirk on his face sunk a bit before regaining form.

The blond placed his shaking hands in his pockets as he turned to admonish his relative. “Kas-”

“No, he’s right,” Bran cut in, amusement clear in his voice. “I ain’t easily noticed, nowadays. Never was with Hangman right beside me.”

West blinked. “You went to school with him?”

It was probably because of his size, but he always got the impression that Bran was way older than Jorge. The older Morterero brother’s age looked like it ranged somewhere in the mid-thirties.

“Him and his big bro, Javier. We were a reckless bunch in high school,” his wooden eyes glimmered wistfully. “A teacher’s worst nightmare. Always skippin’ class, smokin’ in the schoolyard, wrestling in the hallways. But they never could get rid of us.”

“Why’s that?” Kaspar asked.

“Simple. The same reason why no matter what you guys will do, they wouldn’t dream of castin’ you out. Basketball.”

“You serious?” West questioned.

He never really thought about it that way. He was never really the troublemaker type. It could be attributed to Justin, who was beginning to become more reckless with his drinking and smoking, which he sometimes did in school and was beginning to do more often. Nobody had really grilled him on it, so it went over their heads unnoticed.

“Cien por ciento,” Bran’s grin widened. “Jorge… Hangman was a showman on his own, but the three of us together… sheesh. A force, I tell ya. We were a force to be reckoned with.”

Kaspar leaned forward in his tiny chair. “And this Javier guy. You said he was Hangman’s brother? What was his court name?”

Hawkeye. Dunked a ball from the other end of the court twice. Won us a couple of games.”

And just like Bull, the nickname never reached his ears through the grapevine. West was more into college basketball, but he did have basic knowledge and facts over Tuct Side’s history. The sport only blew up when the Kuttners and Dedekinds moved into town in 2001. If he’s heard of Hangman since he was young, surely Bull or Hawkeye would have come up as well. As Bran said, they were a trio on and off the court.

“Heard he’s a coach at Humberston,” West mentioned.

Bran nodded proudly. “Yep. Couldn’t let go of th’ game, I guess. Neither could Jorge, though. Stayin’ here to live through my brother, I bet.”

The lightning-eyed rival filled West’s mind, his presence and gruff demeanor just so different from his older sibling. Neil never tried to force a convivial inflection to his conduct. It would have never fit, just like it didn’t with Bran now.

“He’s actually coming in today. You’ll be able t’ meet him. But I warn ya, he likes to talk about his glory days. Such a fuckin’ old man.”

At that moment, Theresa trotted back inside the kitchen, not looking any different than she did when she left. Her keys dangled in her hand as she beamed at the three males.

“Alright, I’m ready. That was a minute, right?”

Bran leveled a playful warning glare at his fiancé. “You’re lucky it felt like one, woman.”

“Oh, hush you. Let me go get the bus pulled up and you guys line the children up at the front.”


Thirty-nine kids.

Thirty-nine kids.

Thirty-nine kids when they left and there should be thirty-nine when they get back. Jack was the fortieth.

He repeated it in his head like a desperate prayer as he drove toward the Shoemaker residence, Kaspar and Jack in the backseat. It’s been a while since he’s seen or heard from Justin’s folks. It wasn’t as if things had ended on bad terms. They’ve only faded into the background some time ago. Even Justin couldn’t tell anyone what happened since he only then started to distance himself from their sphere.

Speak of the devil, said boy, along with Finn, dressed in green and cyan suits correspondingly, was sitting on the sidewalk of the Shoemaker residence. Despite the shuttered attitude of the Shoemakers, their small McMansion exuded welcoming energy – patches of flowers in the grass, the walkway decorated with garden gnomes and pot plants, and a treehouse that could be seen from the far end of the street. Even now, it seemed as if no time has passed as children and adults mingled and chatted excitedly amongst each other as they moved back and forth across the large-encompassing front yard.

West parked in an empty spot in front of the garage driveway, cars already lining up down the road. It was an open house lunch before the ceremony, people filtering in and out for food and picture-taking.

“About time you guys showed up,” Justin grumbled as the West and Kaspar hopped out.

Kaspar scoffed as he helped Jack out of the vehicle. “It’s only been like forty minutes.”

“And that’s forty minutes too long spent with the ‘rents. If I have to spend one more with my mom nagging about my hair, I’m gonna fu-”

“Hey, lil’ dude. What’s up?” Finn cut in, his eyes on the little blond boy gaping at the other half of the Jiving Four.

Just-In and In-Finn-Ite?”

Their eyes widened at their basketball nicknames.

“Yup,” Justin nodded, narrowing his sights on the kid. “That’s us. Hold on. You’re Jack, right? The ‘Jack’ West and Kas here has been going on and on about?”

Jack suddenly straightened, panic beginning to settle on his face at the tall brunette’s dry tone. “Y-Yeah?”

“West said you were our biggest, number one fan. Is that true?”

“Mhm.”

Justin tilted his head, his expression disbelieving. “Prove it. What’re our positions?”

West sighed and was about to step in when Jack answered almost immediately.

“Um, Clutch is a power forward, Ghost is the point guard, In-Finn-ite is small forward, and you’re center!”

Justin leaned forward, still unimpressed. “What was the final score of our championship game?”

“Uh, 40-37!”

“And who made the first basket during that game?”

“Just-In! You!”

“Aye!” Justin’s face exploded with pride and a joy West hadn’t seen in a while. He gathered Jack in one arm and raised him to shoulder level, yelling out to the crowd in attendance. “Jiving Four’s number one fan, ladies and gentlemen!”

Rounds of laughter, cheers, and applause erupted, and West happily clapped as well as Jack beamed with happiness. However, a couple of people didn’t seem to find it quite as amusing. West stopped short at the sight of Jenna and Robert Shoemaker, Justin’s parents, heading toward them, heads shaking in disapproval.

They were a fairly normal-looking couple. At thirty, they were both still in their prime. Jenna was short, coming up to her husband’s chest and her son’s shoulders. Her slender figure, covered in a white dress, glided in translucent heels, which showed off more of her seemingly flawless and bright skin. And her long, brown hair was tied up into a ponytail. It was Robert who Justin took after the most, though, standing at a height somewhat higher than his son, a skin tone just as tan, and curly hair attached to a long beard. Although, he had a much more muscular build, his tuxedo molding to his arms and legs.

“Justin!” his mother hissed. “Must you make a scene? And why haven’t you fixed your hair like I asked you to?”

Justin’s smile remained, not even turning to them as he kept his focus on Jack, who was still in his arms. “Not listening, Mom. I’m too busy hanging out with my new best friend.”

“Just-” It was then she noticed his friends’ presence, her peeved expression mellowing out. “Oh. Hello, boys. Westford. Kaspar. Finn. How are you guys? It’s been so long.”

“It has,” West replied. “It’s like you guys disappeared on us.”

“Oh, no need to worry. We were actually on business for becoming missionaries,” said Robert.

“What?”

She gave them sad smile. “That’s right. Robert and I… we’ve admittedly been struggling with the faith these recent years. So much so that it even began putting strains in our marriage.”

“However,” her husband continued, “our lives have taken an enlightening path ever since Cynthia’s announced her engagement. We may have had our differences with her in the past, but she’s still family. And like family would, she really opened our eyes to the future.”

West felt a bit awkward being told this information, feeling like it was a tad too private. Looking at his friends, they were equally as wordless, giving uncertain glances between each other. Justin rolled his eyes, murmuring something in Jack’s ear that made the boy giggle.

“Cool,” Kaspar’s scratched his head uncomfortably. “I heard the guy was pretty amazing. Malachi Withers?”

“Oh, Mal is just wonderful,” Jenna cooed. “Such a balm to our souls, that one. Cynthia truly is lucky.”

Robert wrapped an arm around his wife and laughed heartily. “Our boy’s actually pretty involved in the Catholic faith, you know. Owns a church up in Idaho City. He’s been thinking about building one on the western side of town and help those who are unfortunate.”

Your boy, huh?” Justin sneered at his father.

“Oh, don’t be like that, kiddo. Soon enough, you’ll be calling each other brothers.”

“Have you guys met him yet?” Jenna asked, ignoring the disgust her son directed at both of them.

West shook his head. “Not yet, no. Is he here?”

“Of course, he is! They came over to take a few pictures ten minutes ago before heading off to the venue, but I think they’re still here for a bite. Let me go fetch them.”

As she hurried toward the house, Robert used the time to catch up, asking the boys about recent endeavors and such. West scanned the area again. The place was pretty full, and he wondered when people would start filtering out for the ceremony-

“Damn. I was hoping he’d been lying,” Kaspar glowered at something over West’s shoulder.

West spun over…

…and connected with lightning blue eyes.

Copyright © 2021 Westley D.; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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