Fields of Elysium: Molly's Diary Reveal *Day 9* ~ Blog Tour & Giveaway!
10:30 PM
Day 9: Weston
Weston Jenkins is Victor's best friend, despite coming from a different social circle. His family is one of the richest family on Arkana, due to his father's company that produces most of Arkana's modern technologies. He can be very full of himself but deep down his heart is made of gold.
“Thanks for helping with the twins,” Weston said to Ann and looped his arm over her shoulders. Ann blushed and shrank away, not from the weight but from the surprise, as was more than obvious.
Mrs. Jenkins, who until now hadn’t even risen from her seat, just continued watching the screen of some kind of device, stood up, and motioning the twins closer with her index finger, turned to Weston.
“I’m glad your father wasn’t here to see you lose. He would be very disappointed. Nonetheless, I found the games very interesting.” Mrs. Jenkins let her eyes linger on Victor, while Weston assumed an unfriendly stance with his legs apart and arms folded over his chest.
“Mother, I’m sorry I can’t be as perfect as my father. Maybe you should adopt Victor and disinherit me. He always seems to please you whatever he does,” Weston snapped bitterly, his face flushing with embarrassment.
She grinned at Victor in a way a mother at her age should never do, and grasped the girls’ wrists.
“Don’t tempt me,” she said evenly, and then her face broke into a bewitching laugh. “I was just teasing you, boy. You know that I love you more than anything,” she murmured at Weston childishly, pinched his chin, said good-bye and headed back to her ride, the twins in tow.
“Great! It’s not enough that you stole my victory but now you turned my mother against me as well,” Weston blurted out, shooting a scornful look at Victor.
“Don’t worry about your mother’s words. The alcohol was doing the talking, not her,” Victor said, slipping the hood over his head.
“So now you’re calling my mother a drunk?” Weston stepped forward, pulling away from Ann.
Victor clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. “I see there’s no winning with you today, Weston. Are you ready to go, Molly?”
I didn’t have time to talk about my plans for the rest of the day with Weston. I kind of hoped to see him back in the booth after the games. I planned to tell him my plans before the awards, when he was supposed to be feeling glorious and oblivious to everything but his own popularity. But that never happened. And now Weston turned pale and his incredulous eyes jumped back and forth between Victor and me. I knew I had to say something.
“You were right, Weston; this game was truly amazing. I’ll be eternally grateful to you for inviting me here.” I moved closer to him with my palms together in front of me. “You guys were both fantastic. This event will stay in my memories forever.”
“Are you going with Victor?” he asked, taken aback, ignoring my praise.
“Yes,” I whispered, expecting a raging storm from Weston, the kind Victor used to unleash. Instead Weston closed himself off in his inner world. When he finally returned, his face was collected, though still severe.
“I see. You want to go with the winner. I thought better of you,” Weston said frigidly, and his tone was like two slaps on my face. My plan to go with Victor had been prearranged. It had nothing to do with who won or who lost the games. I wished Weston would see that. See inside me and discern the truth in my heart. In that way everybody would have seen my intentions clearly. Explaining things now would just cause more of a mess. I had never been good with words.
“No, Weston. You misunderstood me completely.”
“Oh, no. I understand it just right.” He draped his arm around Ann’s shoulder, his chest bulging out.
“I have to go back to the Sesmar village and pay my respect to those who saved my life.”
Weston averted his eyes from me before I had finished the sentence, as if he wasn’t even listening to my explanation.
“You just want everything that’s mine, right, Victor? My mother, my trophy, and now you’re taking my girl, too.” Weston growled again, his eyes scattering thunderbolts. “Here, take my clothes, why don’t you? Take my everything?”
“Weston, we’re your friends. We’re not against you,” I said, reaching for his face to calm him, but he moved away abruptly.
“I don’t need your pity,” he said, his lips curled downwards into an expression of disgust.
Victor only stopped hating me a few days ago and now I earned Weston’s loathing. Was that a curse on me or was my personality just toxic? Whatever its origin, unconsciously I inflicted chaos wherever I went. However, as much as these thoughts saddened me, I couldn’t afford to let the voices inside my head bring me down again. I couldn’t bear it.
“You see, that’s your problem, Weston,” I said, with a little bit more venom than I should have. “You can’t see further than your nose and don’t notice the people who actually love you and care about you,” I added, glancing back and forth between him and Ann. “Stop for a second and look around you. See us all for what we really are. We’re your friends, not your enemies.”
He shifted his feet, struggling within himself.
“I can take you to the village, too,” he finally said in a low voice.
I blinked hard and long. “I already promised Victor to go with him,” I sighed.
“Fine!” he snapped, the spark of understanding gone immediately from his eyes. “But don’t come and cry for me when he turns out to be a man who breaks your heart and leaves you in tears. He’s cared about nothing else his entire life but revenge and to be a Sentinel. You think he’ll change for you?”
“That’s enough, Weston. Molly had nothing to do with what happened between us today, so don’t make her suffer. It’s not what you think it is. I’m only taking her to the village because she asked me. There’s nothing personal about it.” Victor’s voice was even, betraying no emotion.
I felt my chest cramp from hearing his words. I felt fire spreading in my throat, burning me with excruciating pain.
Ann had been enjoying Weston’s unusual attention to her and refrained from joining in the conversation, for which I couldn’t blame her, but even she looked at me with sympathy after Victor’s speech.
“You don’t have to take me, Victor. I don’t want to trouble you,” I said resentfully and folded my coat over my arm.
“Aghh,” Victor let out a frustrated bellow and squeezed his temples with both hands. “Girls and friends and … and … now this situation.” He dropped his hands to his side and paced around nervously. “I promised you a ride to the village, but I’m not going to beg you. Are you coming or not?” he asked through clenched teeth.
I caught a glimpse of Weston’s smug grin and from that image or from a compelling desire within me, I don’t know, but against my will I agreed to go.
“Fine. But I’m going to see Ulka de Tino and only for that.”
“Good!” he snarled.
“Thank you for the ride then!” I snapped back.
“You’re welcome!” he grumbled again.
“Don’t mention it!”
“I won’t!” He roared the last words and started toward his Ducati.
I turned to say good-bye, but my right foot got stuck in the leg of my chair and I almost tripped, hitting my right palm on the edge of the chair.
Ann helped me up. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, trying to save whatever dignity I had left. “I’ll see you later. And, Weston, thanks again for inviting me. I had a great time.”
He was still amused at how the situation turned out and I was happy that we didn’t part with bitterness in our hearts. Nevertheless, I did feel humiliated.
During the flight Victor didn’t talk to me and I was glad because I planned not to respond anyway, just pretend not to hear what he was saying.
I was still in a huff when we landed on the platform at the Sesmar village.
Written and illustrated by A.B. Whelan
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From the Author
I'm the author of the Fields of Elysium saga, which I like to call a young adult romantic fantasy. The first book of the series was inspired by amazing movies like Dirty Dancing, Avatar, and Twilight and earned praise from prestigious review companies and readers. I'm currently working on book three and four, and planning to write one more novella to finish the series, dedicated to another very interesting character in my story, The Prophet, the mysterious leader of the Arkanians.
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