Текст книги "Dizzy"

Автор книги: Nyrae Dawn

Соавторы: Jolene Perry
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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

The thing is, she looks happy. In love. I don’t want her to look happy or in love.

“Crap,” I say under my breath.

I know right now even though I’m in shock over her skipping out of her next semester of college and pissed that she couldn’t see past herself to know something else was going on with me and not happy about her getting married. Like everything Lora wants me to be sucked into, I’m going to get sucked into this.

“Yeah. I hear ya,” Dylan whispers almost next to me.

I jump and then swallow because I can’t find words with him so close. Why do the assholes have to be so hot? “Not jumping with joy for the happy couple?”

“Jumping in my car and getting the hell out here.” He flips his keys in his hand.

“Ditto.”

“Guess I’ll be seeing you around.” He shrugs and walks off.

Guess so.

Seven

~Dylan~

My brother is an ass.

First, he has me playing the part of some chump in a romantic comedy by declaring me one of his wedding planners. It pisses me off. He knows how I feel about the marriage, and now he wants me to play opposite the part of… whatever chick is playing in rom-coms these days. Oh, and of course he chose to spring it on me at the engagement dinner because he knew I couldn’t freak out too much.

And second, he’s been locked in the room with Lora for hours. Yep, he gets engaged and suddenly gets to play house and have his girl stay over. Guess where that leaves me? I get to be the one to go pick up my future sister-in-law who happens to be the angriest girl I’ve ever met. Or… at least she was last night. I have visions of her going home after the dinner sticking pins in her Derrick and Dylan voodoo dolls.

And it’s all so he can get laid. What other reason would there be for me to pick Ziah up, bring her home, and then all of us to leave and go play wedding planner? My brother has been back a day, and he already doesn’t feel like my brother anymore. It’s like he’s already forgotten about us and our pact.

I pull up in front of Ziah’s house. After glancing at my cell, I toss it on the seat. I’m right on time, so I honk the horn and wait for her to come out. She’s out the door about ten seconds later, scowl in place, but stops dead in her tracks about twenty feet from my Hummer.

I’m not going to roll down the window. I’m not going to roll down the window.

I roll down the window. “What?”

More scowling. “I’m not riding in that thing.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s ridiculous! It’s—” She’s gesturing and looks stunned or something.

“She’s cool as hell. Get in the car, Hanes, or I’m leaving.”

She humphs before crossing her arms and walking to the passenger’s side. I watch as she climbs up and in. Her feet automatically come up, and she rests them on the dash.

“What are you doing? Why would you put your feet on Mary?” What’s wrong with this girl? She’s a nutcase.

“You named your car?” She rolls her eyes. “Of course you named your car.”

But she puts her feet down, and I swipe my hand across the nonexistent foot-marks on the dash.

“What do you mean ‘of course I named my car’?” Five seconds with this girl, and I’m already a million times more annoyed than I was before.

“Nothing.”

She has her face practically plastered to the window so she doesn’t have to look at me as I drive. I turn up the music, hoping it’ll drown out her moodiness. Two can play at this game. Though for her, I’m pretty sure it’s not a game, and she actually hates me. What did I ever do to her? Nothing. Girls are just crazy, and my brother is getting himself tied up in the craziness. He’s screwed if Lora is as pissy as her sister.

I glance over at her. She’s still looking out the window. She has her hair tied up in a ponytail thing, which would not be hot if it weren’t for the one little strand of hair that fell down. The air from the heater makes it brush against her cheek, and something makes me want to reach out and slide the silky strands through my fingers before I tuck it behind her ear.

Apparently it’s not girls who are crazy. It’s me. There’s seriously something wrong with me. We’ve gotten along all of about two seconds of the times we’ve seen each other, yet I’m fantasizing about playing with her hair? It’s something Derrick would do with Lora.

As much as I try, I can’t seem to make myself focus on the road. The music isn’t distracting me like it should. I can’t even find it in myself to think about my dumb ass brother and how he’s doing a douche-bag thing getting married and dragging me along for the ride.

Against my better judgment, I turn down the radio. “Just curious, but is there a quota of hours you have to spend mad, and you’re behind? You don’t have to play catch up every time you’re with me, you know.”

Her head whips around, that little lock of hair flying with it. “What? I’m not mad, and you don’t have to be a jerk.”

She’s going to be pissed, but I can’t help it, I laugh.

“What’s so funny?” She turns sideways in the seat, and I swear I see a hint of a smile. She’s trying to hide it, but I see all.

“You… not mad. That’s got to be the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Maybe it’s just you, ever think of that? Maybe you bring it out in me?”

“Aww, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Her mad face is breaking, and the smile is peeking through more. “Don’t smile, you’ll ruin it. If you smile now, I’m going to know you don’t really hate me. That you’re madly in love with me but too scared to admit it.”

She freezes, and I know she’s about to blow. “I don’t do love, and if I did, it definitely wouldn’t be with you.”

She crosses her arms again and goes back to staring out the window and pretending to be interested in streets she sees every day.

I don’t try to talk to her anymore. It makes for a long ride back home, especially when I can’t stop myself from wondering why she’s anti-love all of a sudden. She looked pretty happy with that guy at the party. Are they together? Did they break up?

Why do I give a shit?

I jump out of Mary when we get home. Ziah is right behind me—her lips still glued shut as I let her in the house. “They’re in Derrick’s room. They’ve been in there since last night. If I know my brother, they’ll be in there for a while.”

“What?” She finally speaks. “Lora called and said we were going as soon as we got here.”

I shrug, but to my surprise, Derrick and Lora start walking down the stairs holding hands. Nice. Pushed to the side again. Derrick and Lora come out for Ziah, but I haven’t seen him since last night.

“You guys ready?” Derrick asks, a cheesy smile on his face.

“No,” Ziah and I say at the same time. I glance over at her and give her a nod. At least we agree on one thing.

“Ziah!” Lora hisses.

“I’m kidding, Lora.”

Lora smiles, but I’m confused as to why. Even I can tell Ziah’s lying, and I don’t know her very well.

“What’s the plan?” If she can pretend to care, I guess I should, too. Derrick starts babbling about how we’re just going to lunch today. Apparently Lora likes to make lists, and she needs all our help to write one for all the crap they’re going to make us do.

“How much is there to do? I mean, do we really need a specific lunch date just to make a list?” I don’t know about them, but that sounds ridiculous to me. “I mean, I can stay here, and you guys can just give me the list later. I’ll take one for the team like that.”

“Hey! That’s not fair! If I have to go, you have to go, too!” Ziah gives me the evil eye.

“Sorry, I thought of it first.”

“Which means you’re the only one who can do it?” She turns toward me, and her hands go to her hips. “I have a whole lot of stuff going on that—”

“Stop!” Lora yells. Both Ziah and I shut up. She’s not looking like the sweet, hot– chocolate-making sister right now, and I start to see where Ziah gets her attitude. “You guys are being ridiculous! Ziah,” she turns to her sister. “It’s not like I ask a lot of you. This is important to me, and I want to share it with you. If that’s too much to ask…”

“And you,” Derrick shoves me. Of course, Ziah only gets a look, and I get shoved. “Stop being an ass. What else would you be doing? Going out with one of the girls you never want to see again? You can do that shit later. I’m your brother. Stop acting like a douche-bag.”

Me? I’m the douchebag? He’s the one who doesn’t want anything to do with me unless it’s to put me to work on the wedding I’m trying to save him from.

I look over at Ziah for support, but her eyes look watery. She turns away from all of us, and I’m not sure anyone notices but me.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Can I use the bathroom before we go?” she asks before she sniffs. Something’s definitely up.

“I’ll show you where it is,” I say.

She doesn’t say a word to me as I show her where the bathroom is. I don’t really feel like talking either, but part of me is curious what’s going on. She may be pissy, but she’s the only ally I have in this.

A few minutes later, we’re all piled in Derrick’s car, Ziah and I in the backseat. She’s looking out the window again, and I find myself wondering what’s wrong. Is it just the wedding? I mean, that’s enough because it’s a hell of a big thing, but I’m guessing there’s more.

I watch as her eyes drift forward to look at Lora. A couple times she shakes her head, and others she just looks sad. Looks like I’m not the only one getting ditched by the lovebirds up front.

I’m surprised when he doesn’t slow down as we approach our pizza place. “Um… did you forget where we eat?” I thump Derrick in the back of the head.

“I’m not really in the mood for pizza.”

Lora jumps in. “We can go eat pizza if you guys want. I’m cool with anything.”

Her words are nice and all, but they kind of feel like she’s throwing me a consolation prize. And even though I really want some damn pizza, I’m not taking it. “Nah, it’s cool. We can eat wherever.”

A few minutes later we pull up at a little Mexican restaurant. Derrick and Lora sit on one side of the booth, and Ziah and I on the other. While we’re waiting for our food to arrive, Lora pulls out her trusty pen and paper.

“Okay, so we’re thinking one of the first things we need to do is visit a few venues to decide where the wedding should take place.”

The word venue makes me want to laugh for some reason. “Since you’re the ones taking the plunge, don’t you think you should pick the place?”

“D!” Derrick gives me his pissed-off look.

“I agree with him,” Ziah jumps in.

Ha! “Seriously, though, I’m not trying to be a jerk, but I don’t see how we’re supposed to help with this one.” Or anything, but I don’t say that.

“We have a big list of places we want to visit. It’ll take too much time, so we figure we could split the list, you two go and we can go. You guys can take pictures, write down all the price information and stuff, and it will help give us something to go on.”

Lora looks like she practiced that speech in front of the mirror like a million times.

“Why can’t I go with you?” Ziah asks.

Lora looks stumped by that question. I have the urge to give Ziah a high five.

Lora looks over at Derrick, and I lean closer to Ziah. “The surgery to separate them would take too long. We wouldn’t want the wedding postponed, would we?”

She chuckles.

I lean back in the seat. “I’m cool with going with Ziah.”

Lora smiles. Derrick nods at me, but Ziah’s head whips around. “What?”

“Excuse us for a second.” I start to nudge Ziah out of the booth, and she’s looking at me like she’s wondering what the hell I’m doing. But she goes. When we get to the hallway by the restrooms, I stop her. “You like talking about my brother?”

She crosses her arms. “No.”

“Good. I don’t like talking about your sister either. We separate them, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to want to chop our own ears off before long. At least if we do this together, we don’t have to watch Derrick pant around after her with his tail between his legs while Lora plays the sugar plum fairy filled with sugar and spice and everything nice.”

And as the words come out, I’m wondering why I’m bothering with this. It would be a lot easier to talk my brother out of getting married if he’s detached from his girl. Instead I find myself, once again, determined to make Ziah smile.

She’s close, but doesn’t do it. Damn, she’s a tough sale.

“Fine, but this doesn’t mean I like you.”

“News flash, but you’re not exactly my favorite person either.” Even though I do want to touch that one stupid strand of hair, just so I know what it feels like. And even though I just put us in a position to be spending a lot of time together.

I need to pull back away from this girl. “Look. I think you and I could work about a million times faster than those two. We can take pictures and pretend to play nice.” Not a bad plan if I do say so myself.

“Okay. I can do that.” She nods.

“Good.” We head back toward the table. As we walk around the corner, I see Derrick nuzzling Lora’s neck. I sort of want to puke again, but it’s Ziah who freezes, her whole body going still as though she is unable to move. She gasps a little like it actually hurts her to see them or something. I mean, I definitely don’t like seeing them together, but it seems different with her.

“Hey… you okay? You don’t seem like yourself.” Not that I know what herself actually is, but it works.

She bites her lip and turns to look at me. “How did you—” And then like she changes her mind she says, “Nothing. I’m fine,” before stomping back to the table.

I pray to God she didn’t bring her voodoo dolls with her.

Eight

~ Ziah ~

Christmas passes in a blur of me trying not to think about James and Alyssa or Derrick and Lora, or what it’s going to be like to go back to school with them and plan a wedding that I’m not sure should even happen.

I’m still pissed at Lora because freaking Dylan noticed something’s wrong with me while she’s still running around clueless. At this point, I’m not telling her out of principle.

***

Two days after Christmas, I’m almost home from my run when I see James on my porch. I want to turn around and run away, but two things stop me. First off, I’m stronger than that. And second… he saw me.

I slow to a walk, wondering what on Earth I’m going to say to him when we get close. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t want to know. The whole thing makes me sick, and it’s all bottled up inside me because I can’t talk to Alyssa, and my sister’s too busy with Derrick.

James’ voice pulls me into the present. “Ziah, I…”

“You do not want to hear what I have to say right now.”

I point at him and push past where he’s standing on the sidewalk. How long has he been standing this close? And wow, I just sounded way tough.

“No, no. I do. Let me have it. Say anything you want.” He keeps pace with me. “Anything so we can be back to the way we were.” He’s been crying, no doubt.

“Tell me everything.” I stop to stare.

He needs to say what actually happened, all of it.

“I told you already,” he pleads. “I texted you everything.”

Right. The texts I didn’t read. “Well. What would you say if I said I’d talked to Alyssa?”

I haven’t talked to Alyssa, of course. I haven’t read texts or email, but I figure right now my best option is to pretend I have.

His jaw drops. My heart rips a little further. It’s bad. More than once? Many times? I’m confused as to why he still wants me.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” I run up my porch steps and push open the front door.

“Ziah, please…”

“What? What else do you want from me, James?” You’ve already crushed me. There’s nothing left.

“She was drunk, Ziah. And you don’t pull on me like that anymore. Like you really want me. I knew it was stupid. And it was just one time. I swear. When I was dropping her off.”

Oh. Right. The night of the party; I really should have put that one together.

I spin to face him, keeping the now half-closed door between us. She pulled on him. Her. On him. He kissed her. I knew half this already, but now I have something to formulate a picture, and it kills me.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James. I don’t love you enough to stay together, and I’m trying to decide if I even like you enough to stay friends.” I slam the door in his face and cry because this should have never happened.

And then I cry because James and Ziah are no longer, and because my sister hasn’t even asked. It’s been more than a week, and she hasn’t asked where he’s been or how we are. And then I cry even more because I want to talk to Alyssa. I miss her.

I’m so stupid.

Why the hell would anyone want to be in love? Why would anyone want to be married?

I’m in my empty house, and I pace as tears stream down my face. What do I do? It’s not even like I have anyone I can talk to. My phone beeps.

ALYSSA: WE NEED TO TALK.

Oh. Right. James must have called her. This sucks. Now I’m ready to just—

A knock at the door makes me jump.

Crap. Who…? Oh no. Dread sinks further. Dylan. Stupid wedding location number one, and I forgot.

I take a few deep breaths, but my throat is still ten times its normal size and my cheeks are wet from tears. My hands swipe my face over and over as I pull open the door. Dylan’s eyes widen when he sees me. I must look really bad.

“Look.” But the word comes out all whiny and just talking makes my body want to cry again. I fan my face, but it doesn’t help. “Not a good time. Please. I’m sorry.”

“Holy… Ziah. What happened?”

I shake my head. Being humiliated at my own house alone is bad enough, but in front of Dylan? A million times worse. He’s one of the untouchable guys. Well…for a girl like me. The fact that we’re forced to be around each other doesn’t mean someone like him would ever choose to be here.

“Is anybody home?” He looks over my shoulder, probably hoping he can get an easy escape. That someone’s here to help the ridiculous crying girl.

I start to say no but just shake my head. My breath is coming in these weird, gaspy chokes, and I can’t seem to make it stop.

He waits a second and then his face changes. Like he’s determined. “Get your ass out here. You don’t have to talk. Let’s just… Mary makes everything better.” He smirks, but he looks like he’s really trying hard.

I’m such a loser idiot.

I let him take my hand and lead me to his car. I even climb in without giving him any crap over driving such a ridiculous vehicle, and then I realize I’m in long running shorts and probably smell.

Dylan gets in, turns to face me, and settles lower in the seat. “Wanna talk or whatever? Or no?” His words sound almost painful. This has to be a million miles from what he’d normally do.

“Lora didn’t even see.” Tears start running down my face again as I stare out his windshield “She knows me better than anyone, and she didn’t even see.”

“Sorry, Ziah. For whatever.”

I shake my head.

“Can I take you to a friend’s house or something?”

And then I shake in a sob, one I hope I can keep from turning into more. “No. She’s… This sucks so bad, I can’t even say it.” My body’s doing this weird quivering thing, and I pull in another breath, and I can’t believe I have to do this with HIM because I have no one else to talk to. “I think, since your party. She’s been weird and so has James, and…”

“Oh, shit.” He knows. Of course he does.

They’ve been weird for like two months, and I didn’t see it. But in just a few words, he’s caught on. I’m such an idiot.

I shake my head and wipe my face again. “Don’t. It’s just. It is what it is, but it makes the whole wedding thing…”

“Even worse.” He shifts in his seat and starts the car. “And Lora doesn’t know?”

“Pre-occupied.” And as I breathe in again, my body relaxes. Not a ton. But a bit. Enough that I think I might be able to hold myself together for a while. I hate that my own sister hasn’t looked past her wedding since she’s been home.

Dylan runs a hand over his hair. “That’s one way of saying they barely come up for air.”

I start to put a foot on the dash like I always do but stop and pull my knees to my chest instead. “I’m sorry. I just… I mean, he just left, and I just found out. And…”

“Nah. It’s cool. I got screwed out of pizza the other day, so we’ll get pizza. If we get around to the bullshit museum thing they want us to do, we’ll do it. If not, we can both claim bonding time or some stupid shit like that. Cool?”

“Bonding shit, huh?” I almost laugh. Almost.

“You’re about to crack a smile already. Damn I’m good.” He flicks on the radio.

The Neon Trees. “I love that song,” I say at the same time he says, “I love this band.”

“Jinx,” he says as his thumbs tap the steering wheel to the beat.

“Wait? What? You can’t say jinx unless you say the exact same thing!” Everyone knows that.

“Um, yeah I can. Dylan’s Hummer. Dylan’s rules.” His blue eyes find mine, and he gives me a ridiculous smirk.

I shake my head. “Okay, then you can’t say jinx unless it’s 1995. Dork.”

Maybe I can just hang with hot party guy. And maybe I’ll be able to function even though the guy who should be my boyfriend is with my should-be best friend. I wipe the last few tears off my cheeks.

“Shh. My rules, remember? You can’t talk until the song is over.”

And we just sit and listen. Mary’s seats are so wide I can pull my legs into cross-legged position. It’s not perfect and my chest still feels a bit caved out, but I also feel like I’ll survive it.

***

“Okay, are you kidding me?” I ask as we stop. The pizza place is sandwiched between a laundromat and a pull-tab convenience store.

“Don’t ya trust me?” he teases.

“I… Not really, no.” But I am totally distracted.

“Come on.” He opens his door.

“Your car is taking up two parking spaces,” I point out.

He shrugs. “Yeah. We were lucky to get two close together.”

“You can be such a jerk.” And I can breathe, which is more than I thought I’d be able to do an hour ago.

He chuckles. “It’s parking spaces, Ziah. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

He shuts his car door and starts around the front of Mary for mine. I jump out before he gets to my side. I’m not sure why I didn’t just let him get my door. It feels like I forced him on a date or something—though, really it’s our brother and sister who have forced us on a date, or an outing, or whatever this is.

I follow him inside, and the cashier leans his elbows on the counter. “S’up, Lil’ D.”

Lil’ D? I’m trying to hold in my laughter, but my body’s shaking anyway. This is so perfect. The crappiness from earlier is fading away fast. I’m sure it’ll come crashing in again at some point but not right now.

Dylan cringes. He turns toward me. “This is my brother’s friend Hank. And I don’t even let my brother get away with calling me that.” He tags Hank in the shoulder across the counter without looking.

“All right. Dylan.” Hank rolls his eyes at me. “What can I get for ya?”

“Do you trust me to order for us?” Dylan asks. “We could get my favorite.”

Crap. I’m chewing on my lip, and he’s staring. He must think I’m crazy. “I’m curious to see what Lil’ D gets on his pizza.”

He shakes his head. “I’m only lettin’ you get away with that because…”

I wait for a moment and then finish for him. “’Cause I’m a mess?” I offer.

Hank leans forward. “I’m guessing you both want a drink?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

“That’ll be twenty.” Hanks pushes a few buttons on the register.

“What?” Dylan chuckles. “How about you hook me up since you just gave her some ammo with that stupid-ass nickname my brother started.”

Hank laughs. “The problem here, Dylan, is I run a small pizza place, and you live in one of the biggest houses in Portland. I’m totally exploiting you, and you’re lucky you can get a pizza for less than fifty bucks.” He turns and hands the order through the window to the kitchen. “And you have to move that ridiculous beast of a car you insist on driving. I can’t have you taking up two spaces.”

“I’ll move my car when I get my pizza.” Dylan laughs. He grabs me a Dr. Pepper from the fridge and himself a Pepsi. He holds the soda out to me. “I guessed ‘cause it’s what your sister drinks.”

“Thanks. This has been very informative, Lil’ D,” I tease, as I take my soda from him.

He lets out a dramatic sigh. “Please, not you, too.”

“O-kay.” I mimic his dramatic sigh. “But just remember it’s back there for blackmail.”

“You gonna cut me any slack?” His crooked smile is one of the many things that melted me at the party, and no guy should be giving me happy tingles just after I slammed the door in James’s face.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” And we’re standing here, and I’m lighter every minute.

“Perfect.” His voice is dry, but a corner of his mouth pulls up. Dylan holds open the door. “It’s not raining, we should be outside.”

“Agreed.” I follow him out the door.

***

Our legs are stretched out on Mary’s hood. Bits of sunshine paired with the black surface makes it feel almost like summer. The Willamette River is in front of us, and we have a view of a few of the bridges that stretch across the water.

Dylan’s favorite pizza is pretty awesome—double pepperoni, ham, and olives.

“So.” He takes another bite. “I’m assuming you’re a college girl. Where you headed?”

“Undecided. I’m pre-med, and there are a lot of places I could go. I’ve applied like, everywhere.”

“Cool. I’m, um…pre-law.”

I choke on my bite of pizza. “Pre-law? So, really you’re a brainiac like me, but you’re disguised as a hot party guy?” My cheeks heat up the moment the words are out. I drop my pizza and put my hands on my cheeks, hoping to cool them down.

“Wow, Hanes, was that a compliment?” He nudges my arm with his elbow.

“Oh, come on.” I shake my head. “You’re not going to argue with me on that point, are you?” Maybe if I play it off as his conceit rather than how I feel, it won’t be a big deal.

“Let’s just say I’m holding onto that one for blackmail.”

Of course he is.

“But seriously? It’s what my dad does, and I get it. It’s like the law is this strict guideline. But really, it’s so bendable, you know? If you’re smart about it. I like the idea of all the motions, and the back and forth that happens between firms working on the same case.” He takes another bite, so relaxed. “Plus, I’m kickass at arguing and getting my way.”

I have to laugh at his honesty. And I’m sort of in shock because a part of me felt he’d be a guy who did nothing. I bet his dad has enough money for him to get away with it, too. But he’s not going to do nothing—he’s going to do something big.

“I’m getting into medicine because of my dad. He decided to teach instead of practicing. I want to practice. Probably pediatrics, but I’m not sure yet. I have a way long time to think about it.”

“So, we’re both after the big degrees,” he says.

“Yeah.” We both are. “But on opposite sides of what they offer.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs.

It sort of sums up Dylan and me. Not that there is a Dylan and me. But it’s like we’re similar, and we’re not. I’m okay to cry in front of him, although I’m still embarrassed about it, and we’re both unhappy about this wedding. Then he’s the big mansion, hot party guy with the model friends, and I’m…well, the opposite of that. Before I have a chance to process how much time’s gone by, the city’s turning dark, and I’m not sure what to do.

“I’ll take you home,” he says.

“What?”

“You’re looking around like you’re trying to figure out how to get rid of me,” he teases as he slides off the hood.

He stands underneath me and holds his hand out to help me down. My heart starts to beat all crazy, which means I’m completely ridiculous because it’s just a hand. I take it and land way too close to him. And his blue eyes are too close and his warmth is too close and he smells so, so good. And when he steps away, it’s like my legs are weak, proving that I really need to be careful around this guy.

“So, today we call bonding time, and maybe we’ll get together again for the museum, cross something off that stupid, damn list.” He sucks in the last word. “Sorry, I know it’s your sister’s.”

“Her lists are ridiculous. No worries here.”

“I know you don’t know me or anything, but you really should talk to your sister about all this mess with the friend and the guy and everything.”

I blow a loose strand of hair off my face. “Maybe.”

I know he’s right, and I know I’m stubborn and want her to come to me. But I’m also stubborn enough to wait on her for a while longer.

Dylan pauses looking at me more intently than I expect. He shakes his head like I do when I’m trying to get past one thought into another.

“No maybe. Dylan knows his shit. Besides, if you’re able to get them to separate for longer than a bathroom break, I’ll call you a miracle worker.”

It sounds like a challenge. “You’re on.”