Where There's a Will (Lost Boys, #1)

by Jessie Walker

“WE ARE THE LOST BOYS!”

Im sorry but thats soooo edgy and 2000s coded ToT (idk if thats a bad thing or not)

I also haven’t missed the fresh bruises scattered across Mason’s knuckles, or the way he’d tap restlessly against his leg anytime his attention would drift off.

:(

“How do I look?” Pretty, I think.

AHHHHHH!!!

“Will? I grin up at him. “Only on one condition?” “Yeah?” “Neither of us can die.”

FUCK BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA ToT

I was happy here once, Waylon, don’t you see?

AGHHHHH BECAUSE OF U WAY!!!

Nodding to myself, I think, You win, Way. You always do, don’t you?

Ugh theyre killing me

Because that’s the thing about life. It doesn’t have to make sense.

Yep

Feeling lighter than I have all night,

Its crazy how something that can bring u so low can also bring u so high and vice versa

From the messy dark hair, to the tats climbing up his arm, to the ripped jeans, and the unlit cigarette now balancing between his lips—he’s got bad boy written all over him.

Edgey ah

Those inky lashes. Those full lips. Those dimpled cheeks you can’t help but want to sink your teeth in. Fuck, those dimples.

UGHHHH SO REAL

I might have the palate of a child, but I’ve been blessed with at least some decent genes. And anxiety. #winning

#sorelatable

pound away near-soundlessly on the treadmill. A stupid investment if there ever was one. What’s the point of running when you’re not going anywhere?

Literally its like so boring bro like i want to run but i dont want to run around in circles in order to get fit or exercise. If im running u best believe its because im going somwhere tbh it feels more like a reward than anything else soooo...

He’s shirtless, lightly tanned skin slick with sweat, tattoos on display. He’s got a lot less ink than me—a sleeve going down his right arm and some lyrics scrawled across his rib cage and wrist. And an infinity sign on his left arm that never fails to send a pang through my chest. Izzy had the same one.

Fine shyt oh sad shit

“Your birthday’s in May, dude. You’re a fucking Taurus.”

Oop idk anything abt Taurus but good to know his bday is in May

“I’m Phoebe. Mason’s sister.”

Oh yeah

It’s Waylon’s birthday today. He’s eleven now, the same age as me.

Oh so Will is a bit older than Way

It’s the third of May,

Ways bday

I don’t like his dad. He forgets things a lot, and it always makes Waylon angry. And if Waylon’s angry, he gets quiet. And when he’s quiet, that means he’s sad.

Yeah thats cute that Will knows this help idk also he def loves Way ToT platonic or not idcccc

“My mom died on my birthday.”

Waylon nooo ToT the guilt…im kmsDdhtsxcg

I think he likes the rush. Maybe he’s a junk-food junkie and an adrenaline junkie. Junkie, junkie, junkie⁠—

Foreshadowing…? ( Waylon btw)

One second I’m choking down on my laughter, and the next there are hands grappling at my shoulders, a chin bumping my jaw, a muttered curse⁠— Something brushes the corner of my mouth, and I⁠— Waylon. Way, Way, Way⁠— He pulls away.

A kiss? On the corner of Wills lip? And the way Will repeats Ways name like a prayer? Help? Omg?

“You kissed me,” I say breathlessly. His face tightens. Like he might cry. “No, I didn’t.”

AGHHHHH

“I don’t know if I like girls, but I definitely like you.”

Whats with the kids rizz Will what

“Will and Way. We’re a team. Always.”

Urgh :(((

“Just ask Jeremy. Izzy’s twin brother.”

THATS the guy who has a crush on Mason mb not my bro Shawn

What the hell am I fucking doing?

What r u doing? What am I doing??

Whoever decided there’s some arbitrary age constraint on finding your damn soulmate is clearly just as much of a dumbass as whoever decided that the weight of death couldn’t be measured.

Hate when they say "youre too young to know" or "its just a phase, youll get over it."

“And the harder you try to catch up, the more it pulls you down. Like fighting quicksand. Hopeless.”

:(

“The sun will always rise again.” I shrug. “You just need to make it through the night. Take it day by day—moment by moment if you need to—until you reach the other side. Nothing lasts forever.”

Ye.nice perspective bc as much as happiness never lasts forever, sadness and grief dont last forever either.

I’ve got Tom Petty in my head, singing about stupid nonsense⁠—

Nooo not during this

I glance down at my knuckles, tracing the tattoo on my right ring finger with a thumb.

Special reason?

No. I nod to myself. He can never know. He can never know how close I came to being another Freedom Bridge casualty.

Oh no

and it’s like I’m eleven years old again. Staring down into the wounded face of my best friend, as he laid sprawled out on the ground, telling him to go away. Leave me alone. I don’t wanna to be friends with a⁠—

WITH A WHAT? FINISH UR SENTENCEEEEE!!!!

My eyes flicker between her piercing green orbs

Im sorry but ill never NOT think of wattpad when i hear "orbs" T-T

Because not only did we actually, maybe, sort of finally reach some semblance of a middle ground—no, he just had to go an inch further and squeeze my damn hopeless romantic heart with that little speech about freakin’ sunrises of all things, as if it was his God-given right to reach in and take what’s always belonged to him.

Asghhh

it’s a damn miracle I didn’t do something infinitely more stupid. Like kiss the absolute shit out of his corny, poetic ass.

LOLLL shouldve…sighhh

Matt gives me a curious half-smile, one that I’m disappointed to discover doesn’t come with a pair of sink-your-teeth-in dimples. Fan-fucking-tastic.

HA U LIKE WAYLON U LIKE WAYLON!!

his too-bright green-gold orbs

Orbsssss

The guy’s a walking Do Not Enter sign if there ever was one, and Mason’s the only one who seems to have been granted access.

Yep im curious

His jaw seems to quiver before turning to steel. Finally, finally, he looks at me... And I wish he didn’t. I wish I never followed him. Because the boy looking back at me now? He’s not the boy I said goodbye to last week. His hazel eyes are the same, and yet, not. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but this is not the Waylon I know. This isn’t my best friend. This isn’t my Grumpy Bear.

ARGHHHH :((((

“I can’t be friends with a f-faggot, okay?” he shouts,

Uhm....uh....proof that hateful people are made not born...i know his biological father had something to do with this shit.

He has his back angled to me, shoulders hunched as if bracing himself. As if bracing himself for me to hit him.

Yea hitting him seems like a bad idea now bro…like EXTREMELY bad…

Tears rush forward once more, and shame crawls over me like a tidal wave, dousing the flames. Leaving me cold. Numb.

I lik this writing analogy :P

“Who did this?”

At age 11 is crazy "Who did this to you!?" he growled /hj...

“Promise me or I will tell everyone you’re a faggot.”

Wtf Waylon ToT i know he 11 but DAMN

Dear face, meet palm.

Lol

I’ve yet to stoop so low as to use my cousin’s trauma to mask mine. That’s something I’ve got going for me at least.

Ha yeah…

“Earth to Way.” Way. He’s still calling me Way.

Yeah awwww

Dudes don’t wear other dudes’ boxers.

Hmmm u sure?

I suppose the fates are laughing now at the poetic justice of it all. Because who else would be able to demolish my walls other than the boy who set their construction in motion in the first place?

Mm