SDF 72: The Problem With Dreams
Segment: The Problem With Dreams
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Jesse McNally bounced from foot to foot, while his English teacher and counselor, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, watched him with curious eyes. Jesse took a deep breath, paused, then let it out without saying a word. Wesley blinked behind his glasses, an eyebrow slowly raising. Jesse smiled sheepishly.
"Mr. McNally... Was there something you needed?" Wesley asked.
"It's a lovely Friday morning, isn't it?" Jesse suddenly asked, walking over to the window. He watched as Oz's van came screeching into the parking lot. Spike Bradshaw jumped out of the van's passenger side and popped the hood, cursing as smoke billowed out. Jesse tried to not smirk.
"Indeed it is."
"I had a lovely night." Jesse continued. "My mother was quite taken with you and Mr. Gunn."
"Is that a bad thing?" Wesley asked, his voice mildly curious. Jesse had a feeling Wesley was using every ounce of counselor schooling he knew at the moment. For some reason, that made Jesse feel better.
"Nah." Jesse shrugged. "My mom is really friendly. It can get annoying sometimes, and sometimes guys take it to mean one thing when in reality she's just touchy-feely with everyone. But it's good that she liked you guys. Beth McNally knows how to make a teacher's life a living hell, after all."
"That's good to know." Wesley looked to be fighting a smile. "Was there anything in particular you wished to talk about?"
"Okay." Jesse nodded to himself. He could talk about this. This was his designated counselor. Wesley was an okay guy. He was a good English teacher, really fond of books and his students. He was smart. Jesse needed smart at the moment. "So, there's this dream."
"A dream." Wesley repeated.
"Yeah. Dream." Jesse nodded, before forcing himself to sit down. "I've had it a few times. Last week... Twice last week, actually. And I had it last night. I know that dreams are suppose to be some weird connection to your subconscious, but I honestly don't want that to be true at the moment! Please tell me this dream doesn't mean anything."
"I would suspect, Mr. McNally--"
"You can call me Jesse."
"Jesse, that the meaning behind a dream depends on the dream itself, how often you have it, and what triggers the dream." Wesley said, looking thoughtful. "Would you like to describe the dream?"
"It's a squid." Jesse blurted out. Wesley looked startled at this piece of information. "And it's on my bed and it lights all of these candles and it brought... Well, it has..." Jesse's voice dropped to a whisper. "It brought lube."
"I see." Wesley cleared his throat.
"I'm not gay!" Jesse insisted, standing. "I like women!"
"I'm certain you do." Wesley easily agreed. "Jesse, sometimes a dream is just a dream. It doesn't have to have any hidden meaning."
"But... But..." Jesse groaned and sat back down. "My best friend is gay, okay? I can't be gay. He's already taken that position in our group. He's the gay and funny one, I'm the straight and horny one, Buffy's the loud and obnoxious one, and Willow's the smart one that tells us when we are being idiots. That's how this works. So. I'm not gay."
"Jesse, if I may, what makes you believe this dream means you are... Homosexual?" Wesley asked, stammering slightly.
"Well... The squid is a male."
"Is it?" Wesley asked, mildly.
"Yes!" Jesse insisted.
"Very well." It was obvious that Wesley was trying to fight another smile. "Jesse, I don't think you should be jumping to any conclusions. It's normal for a boy your age to question things. That doesn't mean that you are one thing over another. Sexuality is a fluidly moving experience, just because you are attracted to men and women now doesn't mean that that will hold true in ten years."
"So... What should I do?" Jesse asked.
"Don't try to label yourself. You're young yet." Wesley told him, giving him a helpful smile. "If you feel the need to explore this part of yourself, then do so in a reasonable matter. Don't place yourself in a situation that will cause you harm."
"Okay." Jesse nodded. "That sounds good. Don't label myself. I can do that."
"Good." Wesley said. "And if you ever need to talk more about this, I'm here. I don't mind lending an ear."
"Right. Okay, right." Jesse nodded, standing up and heading for the door. "Don't label. Explore." Jesse paused in the hallway. "How in the hell am I suppose to explore this?"
the cast | the story list
Jesse McNally bounced from foot to foot, while his English teacher and counselor, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, watched him with curious eyes. Jesse took a deep breath, paused, then let it out without saying a word. Wesley blinked behind his glasses, an eyebrow slowly raising. Jesse smiled sheepishly.
"Mr. McNally... Was there something you needed?" Wesley asked.
"It's a lovely Friday morning, isn't it?" Jesse suddenly asked, walking over to the window. He watched as Oz's van came screeching into the parking lot. Spike Bradshaw jumped out of the van's passenger side and popped the hood, cursing as smoke billowed out. Jesse tried to not smirk.
"Indeed it is."
"I had a lovely night." Jesse continued. "My mother was quite taken with you and Mr. Gunn."
"Is that a bad thing?" Wesley asked, his voice mildly curious. Jesse had a feeling Wesley was using every ounce of counselor schooling he knew at the moment. For some reason, that made Jesse feel better.
"Nah." Jesse shrugged. "My mom is really friendly. It can get annoying sometimes, and sometimes guys take it to mean one thing when in reality she's just touchy-feely with everyone. But it's good that she liked you guys. Beth McNally knows how to make a teacher's life a living hell, after all."
"That's good to know." Wesley looked to be fighting a smile. "Was there anything in particular you wished to talk about?"
"Okay." Jesse nodded to himself. He could talk about this. This was his designated counselor. Wesley was an okay guy. He was a good English teacher, really fond of books and his students. He was smart. Jesse needed smart at the moment. "So, there's this dream."
"A dream." Wesley repeated.
"Yeah. Dream." Jesse nodded, before forcing himself to sit down. "I've had it a few times. Last week... Twice last week, actually. And I had it last night. I know that dreams are suppose to be some weird connection to your subconscious, but I honestly don't want that to be true at the moment! Please tell me this dream doesn't mean anything."
"I would suspect, Mr. McNally--"
"You can call me Jesse."
"Jesse, that the meaning behind a dream depends on the dream itself, how often you have it, and what triggers the dream." Wesley said, looking thoughtful. "Would you like to describe the dream?"
"It's a squid." Jesse blurted out. Wesley looked startled at this piece of information. "And it's on my bed and it lights all of these candles and it brought... Well, it has..." Jesse's voice dropped to a whisper. "It brought lube."
"I see." Wesley cleared his throat.
"I'm not gay!" Jesse insisted, standing. "I like women!"
"I'm certain you do." Wesley easily agreed. "Jesse, sometimes a dream is just a dream. It doesn't have to have any hidden meaning."
"But... But..." Jesse groaned and sat back down. "My best friend is gay, okay? I can't be gay. He's already taken that position in our group. He's the gay and funny one, I'm the straight and horny one, Buffy's the loud and obnoxious one, and Willow's the smart one that tells us when we are being idiots. That's how this works. So. I'm not gay."
"Jesse, if I may, what makes you believe this dream means you are... Homosexual?" Wesley asked, stammering slightly.
"Well... The squid is a male."
"Is it?" Wesley asked, mildly.
"Yes!" Jesse insisted.
"Very well." It was obvious that Wesley was trying to fight another smile. "Jesse, I don't think you should be jumping to any conclusions. It's normal for a boy your age to question things. That doesn't mean that you are one thing over another. Sexuality is a fluidly moving experience, just because you are attracted to men and women now doesn't mean that that will hold true in ten years."
"So... What should I do?" Jesse asked.
"Don't try to label yourself. You're young yet." Wesley told him, giving him a helpful smile. "If you feel the need to explore this part of yourself, then do so in a reasonable matter. Don't place yourself in a situation that will cause you harm."
"Okay." Jesse nodded. "That sounds good. Don't label myself. I can do that."
"Good." Wesley said. "And if you ever need to talk more about this, I'm here. I don't mind lending an ear."
"Right. Okay, right." Jesse nodded, standing up and heading for the door. "Don't label. Explore." Jesse paused in the hallway. "How in the hell am I suppose to explore this?"