Wes Edmonds

Theo laughed at the boy’s joke – he was, after all, a self-proclaimed pun-oisseur. Any lighthearted joke made him happy. “Hmm…yet no gravy? Tsk tsk, you almost had a meal.” He chuckled lightly and squinted at the piece of hair that had been potato-ed. “Uhh…yeah, just about. Yeah it’s gone. It’s a lovely head of hair either way.” Theodore smiled and prepared himself to start walking away, until his eyes caught sight of the younger man’s studies. “Ordinary Differential Equations…God, you must be reeling. I took Non-Linear Differential Equations in my sophomore year and somehow managed a B, but it was horrid.” He smirked and laughed lightly. “My Professor was a wart-covered woman who made the classroom smell like tapioca.” Theo shook his head, but quickly snapped out of his nostalgia. “Oh, pardon me for distracting you!”

❝ I guess I didn’t want to seem greedy. ❞ Wes adds with a half-hearted shrug. He was normally self-conscious about making messes ( especially while eating...no one wants to be known as a messy eater ) but sometimes he becomes hyper focused when it comes to his studying and things happen ( like highlighter smudged across his cheek, pen stains on his jeans, lead smudged along his hands, etc. ). ❝ Thanks. . .it takes a lot of work to look like I just rolled out of bed. ❞ Wes inwardly cringes at his own words, glad that the stranger doesn’t seem to sense his awkwardness. And when the stranger’s gaze falls to his notes, he’s ready to hear something along the lines of how much they hate math and how he must be smart to understand this upper level class.

Surprisingly, that doesn’t happen. ❝ Tapioca? That’s. . .unpleasant to say the least. I have an A so far, but to be fair it’s only an intro class. ❞ Is he a cocky guy when it comes to his classes? No. He doesn’t think he’s the best ( even if he is in the top 3 of his class ) and would never assume he deserve a n y t h i n g.

Owen chuckles at Wes’ response, the guy still didn’t have a clue who he was dealing with. But Owen decided he would let this one slide, and just try and figure out what this guy was about. It was obvious he was smart, so maybe he would be of some use to Morgan. Owen put the boys papers down, and stuck his hand out. “Name’s Owen. Owen Scroop.” He said simply. “I was just interested in what you were studying.” 

“Thank you.” Theodore smiled to the waitress as she handed him the tray full of iced coffees. It was another late night at the observatory and, once again, Theo’s turn to get everyone coffee. It wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five style job – being an astronomer. Most of the time, they were huddled around some strange telescopic image, drinking coffee to keep awake, rubbing their eyes as the night hours turned to morning. There was still some time left before the sky went completely dark, and Theo was surely in no hurry to get to what had been referred to as (by some dear friends) as the Palace of Nerds. After all, not much work would be done this close to a full moon. 

On his way out, Theo briefly glanced at the boy studying in the booth. He was about to look away until he noticed something…”Hey there, you seem to have something in your…hair..” at the lack of a response, Theo pursed his lips into a taut line, taking note of the headphones in the boy’s ears. Ah, he thought. But just as he was about to give up, the boy saw Theo standing there and spoke up to him. “Oh! Hi, sorry to be a bother. I just noticed you seem to have something in your hair? It…looks like mashed potatoes or something, i’m not quite sure…anyways it didn’t seem like you had noticed so I thought I’d let you know.”

SAGE walked into the diner. It was already afternoon, but she’d only just woken up. The sunglasses on her eyes helped with the pain of the light, but she still felt the THROBBING in her brain from the night before. Grabbing her usual coffee, she moved to sit in her usual booth. Sage pulled out her crossword started to work, but was unable to focus due to the music coming from the booth behind. Finally, out of frustration, she stood and turned around to face him. 

❝Can you turn those down?❞ She pointed at the headphones before he finally pulled one out. ❝You music is still loud and disturbing everyone.❞ She motioned around them at all of the people who were clearly not disturbed AT ALL. 

Wes eyes the rest of the patrons in the diner. It’s easy to see that nobody else seems to be affected by the music coming from his phone. In fact, he can barely hear the music now that he’s taken the earbuds out from his ears.

Owen raises an eyebrow, his head reeling slightly back at his comment. Was this guy being for real? He looked around the dinner, and noticed there were a lot of people. He quickly slid into the seat in front of the boy, and grabbed a few papers, holding them up and studying them. Numbers. All he saw was numbers, and instantly his head hurt. “So you’re smart…” He mumbled, rubbing his chin. “No need to be so aggressive, dude. Name?” 

Wes watches as the boy takes the seat across from him. It looks like his studying is going to have to wait ( for now ). He’s unimpressed by the brown-eyed boy’s comment ( he’s not the first person to make that assumption ) and remains silent as he watches the boy across from him shuffle his papers.

He’s not big on random people touching his things, and he’s sure his face gives that away, but he gives no other reaction except for the sigh that escapes his lips. He’ll go along for now with whatever game this guy is playing, but his patience is already slipping.

Owen sat at a table a few down from a dark headed boy, who was obviously way to involved in whatever university chaos that was spread across the table. He watched him for a long time, noting that he hadn’t seen this person before. He downed the rest of his coffee and stood up, walking up to the boy. He let out a low cough, furrowing his brows. He stood at the edge of the table for a few moments before dark eyes met up with his.  

“I didn’t say anything, yet.” Owen said, his dark gaze still glued on the boys. “Name, kid.” He said, almost like he was giving an order. 

Wes gives him a puzzled look. His brown eyes quickly scan the diner to see if the stranger has drawn attention to them and is only mildly relieved when he realizes he hasn’t. For a beat, the two seem to be competing in a staring contest but the curly-haired boy breaks the silence first. Has no one ever taught this boy how to interact with others? But Wes has had his fair share of odd encounters and with a sigh he leans back in the booth, dropping his pencil onto the counter and pulling out his other earbud.

Wes has all of his things spread out around him. He’s been sitting at the booth in the back of the diner for hours, studying ( mostly ). He has a test in his Intro to Ordinary Differential Equations class at the end of the week which he thinks he’s M O S T L Y prepared for. His textbook and notes from class are spread out around him in a wave of mathematical chaos. His phone is in within a hands reach ( in case anyone needs to contact him ), the white cord of his headphones plugged into it as music creates a blanket of white noise.

Wes doesn’t know how long the person has been standing by his table as brown eyes raise to focus on them. He’s got a feeling by the way they’re looking at him that they’ve been trying to speak to him without much success. Pulling out an earbud, Wes raises his brow questioningly before asking the obvious.