Текст книги "Dizzy"

Автор книги: Nyrae Dawn

Соавторы: Jolene Perry
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Nine

~Dylan~

I can’t get over how weird yesterday was. I mean, it started because I can’t stand to see a girl cry. When Ziah was all teary and mopey, I did the only thing any guy would—I tried to distract her so the tears would stop. I’m not the best with the whole opening up thing, but I figured pizza always works with me. So I gave it a shot.

And it actually wasn’t so bad.

Not like I think we’re friends or anything, but for a little while, I actually forgot I was just trying to distract her. Granted, today I’ll do everything in my power to make myself remember it was just distraction. She’s still the angry chick whose sister is ripping my brother away from me. And who also has an idiot of an ex-boyfriend.

“Lil D! Open up.” Something pounds against my bedroom door.

“Go away!” I yell back at Derrick. I’m still pissed at him about this whole thing, and honestly, I’m not even sure what to say to him anymore. It’s weird hanging out with him now, and I never expected it to be like that.

“No.” He pushes inside.

“Don’t make me kick your ass again.”

He laughs, and I roll over to ignore him. “Come on. Get dressed. We’re hanging out for a while.”

I look up to see he’s already dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a button up shirt. “Oh, so you have time for me today? You pried your lips away from Lora long enough to talk with your brother?” Still, I find myself pushing up and getting out of bed.

Derrick rolls his eyes. “Grow up and come on. You’re acting like a five-year-old.”

I choose to ignore that. This is his fault, not mine. Once I’m in my bathroom, I strip and take a quick shower. When I’m ready, I jog down the stairs, half expecting to see Derrick and Lora surgically re-attached, but luckily, she’s not here.

“So what’s up? Why do you suddenly have time for me?”

Derrick groans. “Seriously, you’re starting to piss me off.”

I grab an apple out of the bowl and take a bite. “What a coincidence. You’re doing the same thing to me.”

He doesn’t reply, but grabs his keys off the counter. I follow him, eating the apple as we go. I’ll never admit it, but I’m excited to spend the day with him. I’m so over all this wedding stuff and just want to pretend things are the way they used to be.

We head to the driving range, which may sound like something eighty-year-olds do, but golfing is the shit. When Dad makes time for us, that’s almost always what we do.

Over two buckets of balls, we challenge each other to see who can drive the farthest. Once we’re out of balls, we head to the pizza place, and I pray to God they don’t tell him I was here with Ziah yesterday. I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to know I actually don’t hate her guts. It might come in handy later.

Luckily, Hank’s at lunch, which is ironic as hell, if you ask me, since he works at a pizza place. We have our specialty, drink way too much soda, and then I beat him at a few video games. It feels like old times.

I can almost forget there’s a Ziah or a Lora. I can pretend he’s just here on break and not taking time off from school. I can forget that the one person who was there for me when our family fell apart has hardly had the time of day for me. I can almost forget that I’ve ever doubted the Gibson Boys.

Right now, it’s still just us, and nothing is going to tear us apart like it did when I was younger.

“Where do you want to go next?” Derrick asks as we drive through town.

“I don’t know.” It makes me sound like a pussy, but I suddenly want to think of something else so we can keep hanging out. “Wanna hit the mall? Dad’s birthday is coming up. We need to get him something.”

Derrick nods as he pulls onto the freeway. The car is quiet for a few minutes before he says, “Listen, Dyl, I wanted to talk to you about something real quick.”

“Yeah?” I ask, flipping with the knobs, just assuming it’s going to be something stupid.

“Lora’s having a really hard time with Ziah being so against the wedding, and you treating her like you do… She thinks you don’t like her or something. I was thinking—”

I fight a groan. “That you’d hang out with me like old times just to suck up before you pounce on me to make your girl feel better?” I shake my head, suddenly feeling like punching my brother more than I ever have.

“What? No. I just thought this would be a good chance to bring it up.”

“Yeah… sure.”

It’s stupid, but I feel like I’m locked out of what’s going on again. That I’m in my room alone while Dad loses it, Derrick tries to cover for him… and Mom is just gone. No one ever tells me what’s going on. All I know is they’re out there, and I’m in here. Alone.

Hell, maybe I am a wuss.

“You know that’s not how it is.”

Actually, I don’t, but whatever. “You know what? I forgot I had something to do. Let’s just go home.”

He doesn’t even argue.

***

Ziah’s ridden the whole way to the museum in silence, and even though I’m trying not to be, I’m pissed about Derrick. I don’t say a word to her because I’ve been known to be a jerk when I’m in a bad mood. Of course she has her hair up again, and I not only have to see that little strand hanging down but also her neck. It’s a nice neck. I like kissing necks, and I suddenly want to kiss hers. What the hell is wrong with me?

I slam Mary’s door and then just get mad at myself. It’s not her fault Derrick’s a jerk. I walk to the other side of the Hummer and wait for Ziah to climb down. Silence still weighing on us, we head inside.

“Hey.” She touches my arm.

I may or may not enjoy that innocent touch way too much. It’s like ever since I first noticed that piece of hair, followed by our semi-normal day yesterday, I can’t stop thinking insane stuff about her.

“Are you okay?” She smiles.

No, no I’m not. “Yeah, just wondering who the hell would want to get married in a museum. I didn’t know people did that.”

“You didn’t? If I agreed with this wedding, I would actually think it’s cool. It was my idea.”

Oh. Leave it to me to insult her. “I mean, it’s cool… Actually, unique. Yeah, unique.”

Ziah laughs all high-pitched. “No, you think it’s lame, and that’s okay. Stop trying to be nice. Two days in a row is going to scare me.”

This time, I laugh with her. I don’t know why, but I enjoy the little reminder that I helped her feel better yesterday. Me. And not because I’m rich or because I’m a good kisser, which is usually the way I help girls. It just…was. “Yeah, I definitely don’t want to look like a nice guy. Thanks for saving me on that one.”

She smiles at me again and then does this girly, hip-bump thing to me. “Come on, let’s look around.” Umm, who is this, and what happened to angry Ziah?

Obviously in her element, she leads me around. I snap pictures here and there for my loser brother with Ziah’s phone because I left mine in Mary. She wants shots of every angle and every freaking inch of the place. It’s crazy because I know she’s not any more excited about this wedding than me, but she’s one of those girls that if she’s going to do something, she’s going to do it right. I can understand that. Kind of. After an hour, I’m not sure how much more there is to photograph.

“You’d think you were the one getting married. You’d be one of those bridezilla girls wouldn’t you?” I say it just to get a rise out of her because I know she wouldn’t be like that.

“What? I can’t believe you would say that! You know I think this whole thing is stupid.”

I laugh. “Truth hurt?” For some reason, joking around with her like this kind of helps me forget about Derrick.

“No, but I’m going to hurt you.”

I pull her hair like a twelve-year-old and run. She chases me. When did I stop being mad?

“Get over here, Lil D!”

I zip by her and pull her hair again. “Don’t call me that.”

I take a corner and collide into something. “Umph.”

Four eyes are staring back at me. Okay, not four but a woman old enough to be my grandmother with glasses so thick I think they’re the same as my windshield.

“Sir and miss. You cannot run in the museum. If I catch you again, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Oh no! We’re so sorry,” Ziah says before I get the chance to tell the lady if I run again, there’s no way she could catch me. When I open my mouth to say so, Ziah gives me this look that makes me snap my mouth closed before she grabs my arm and pulls me away.

“You’re no fun.”

“You almost got us kicked out.” She lets go of my arm and turns to face me.

“Which would have been the fun part. Don’t you ever break any rules, Hanes?” I give her a wink and a smile. Then lean a little closer. Maybe too close.

Her feet plant themselves to the floor. Her breath hitches. I actually see the pulse beating in her neck, and I know. She’s looking at me all funny, and suddenly I’m breathing faster, too. I notice a tiny scar by her lip and can’t help but wonder how it happened. Wonder what it would feel like under my finger.

As if we both realize this moment is way too strange, we jump apart.

What the hell was that?

I step away, and she’s still watching me. “Wanna look around for fun now? I think you got enough pictures.”

She nods, looks at the floor, and I can’t help but feel like I just let her down somehow. “What do you want to look at first? I’m game for anything.” And I’m totally trying to make up for the fact that I’m a jerk.

Ziah leads me to display after display. I’m pretty sure we’ve looked at everything twice, and as boring as the museum should be, it’s fun because she keeps making me laugh. I’m making her laugh, too. I wonder if this is what it was like for her when I helped her forget about James. If we can somehow make each other forget all the shit that’s going on while we plan this stupid wedding.

Is this what it’s like to be just friends with a girl? I like it a lot more than I thought I would.

“How you doing?” I finally ask her as we walk along. “You know, with Alyssa and the jerk?”

“Who? Oh. Right. Yeah. He is a jerk. I like your name for him better.” She shrugs. When she does, her arm brushes mine, and I’m way more aware of it than I should be. It’s an arm, for God’s sake.

“I’m okay, I guess. Still trying to sort it all out in my mind. It sucks. She was my best friend… I lost them both at the same time.”

I love how she opens up to me. I’m not sure any girl has ever been as honest with me as she is. It makes me want to give her the same thing.

“You remember Paul? He was the one dancing like an idiot in my kitchen that first night. Anyway, he’s an idiot, but he’s my boy, too. We’ve known each other since we were little. I can’t imagine what I’d do if he screwed me over like that.”

She gasps a little, and I worry I said the wrong thing. We’re still walking, and it takes her a minute to reply. “Yeah, that’s why it hurt so much. It was Alyssa, and having her be the one who hurt me sucked.”

“Sucks. You don’t need her, though. Not if she’s like that. I know my shit. You should always listen to Masta Dylan.”

She drops her head back and laughs. God, this girl is killing me. I stare at her neck and wonder what it would feel like to kiss it, but then I see Derrick and Lora, Dad on the ground crying, and me wondering what the hell was going on. I shake my head and notice the painting on the wall.

“He’s incredible.”

“I love this artist,” we say at the same time. Okay, we really need to stop having things in common. It’s screwing with my head.

“Yeah, he’s great.” I step closer.

“I love art… mainly because I’m so terrible at it. I can’t help but respect people who can do so well what I could never in a million years accomplish.”

I don’t know what makes me open my mouth and say it, but I do. “I draw. Sketch, paint a little. Nothing like this, but…” Now I feel like an idiot. Like I’m trying to impress her or something. “Yeah, drawing isn’t the same thing, I guess.”

But she’s looking at me with those wide eyes, and I can tell, she thinks it’s something. “I’d love to see your stuff sometime. I mean, if you don’t mind showing me.”

“Yeah? I have one of my sketchbooks in Mary. Want to come see it?” What the hell is wrong with me? It’s just because you brought up her friend and her ex… you’re trying to make her feel better.

Five minutes later we’re in the Hummer, and she’s looking through one of the books I never let anyone see.

“These are great, Dylan.” Her fingers slide across one of my drawings like it’s a treasure. “You’re really good. Seriously, you should be proud of yourself. I could never do this. It’s amazing.”

“Umm… Thanks.”

She’s still looking at my picture, picking the edge of my paper. I totally want to tell her to be careful with it, but I don’t.

“I guess I should take you home.” The words come out of nowhere, but I suddenly need some space from her.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

It doesn’t take us long to get to her house. We’re all quiet again until I can’t take it anymore. “So… should I pick you up tomorrow? I think they have some other wedding crap for us to do.”

I think so at least. One second I’m trying to get away because she’s too easy to be around, and the next I’m trying to find ways to spend more time with her.

“Ugh… stupid wedding. Yeah. I guess so.”

Awkward silence, and then she reaches for me. Holy crap, she’s going to kiss me! Hanes is totally about to kiss me! Mayday, mayday! I don’t think I want her to kiss me. Her arms wrap around me, and it’s totally a hug. I don’t know if I’m glad or disappointed.

“Thanks again… For talking and whatever,” she says.

“No problem.” I pull out of the warmth of her hug. I definitely need to get out of here.

“See ya later.”

“See ya,” she says, and then she’s gone.

Ten

~ Ziah ~

Every time I think about the museum, I get all smiley. It’s ridiculous. I’m not the kind of girl to get smiley, especially over a guy who is guaranteed to break my heart. I’m staring off into space as I sit on one of the bar stools when Lora walks in.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

Dad’s napping, and Mom’s at work. The house is quiet, and I figured she’d still be with her attachment.

“Have I…missed something?” she asks, her head cocked to the side and her voice quiet.

“What do you mean?” I ask, heart pounding.

“I mean, I felt like a bad sister earlier when someone said there might be stuff going on with you that has nothing to do with the wedding.” She sits on the barstool next to mine, still watching my face.

Dylan must have said something. I hate that he did, but it’s more because that’s what it took for my sister to stop and realize it’s not just the wedding that’s thrown me.

“Who said that?” I ask, even though it’s obvious.

Maybe part of me just wants to hear he’s looking out for me. I almost leaned over and kissed him last night, and I don’t want to kiss him. I mean, I don’t want to kiss anyone. He would probably be a great kisser if I did want to kiss someone, but at the same time, my guess is he’s had way too much practice.

“Dylan said you seemed upset, and he wasn’t sure if it was wedding stuff or not.” She rests her chin on her hand as a show she’s not going anywhere.

The total suckiness of the past couple weeks slams into me, and I suddenly have to blink back tears. The thought of going back to school with them makes me sick all over again.

“Ziah. I’m so sorry. Whatever it is. I just assumed it was the wedding because you were so upset about that, and I didn’t stop to think it might be something else.” She puts her arm around me.

I start from the beginning, with the party and seeing Dylan and James and Alyssa, and how it all just got out of control. How James got weird after the party, and he and Alyssa were never in the same room. And how I didn’t see any of it. It feels like I just lost them both.

“God, Ziah. You should have told me first thing.”

I wanted to, but I didn’t know how. Instead of answering, I shrug.

“Is there more?” She cringes. “You look like you’re not done.”

There’s no point in trying to hide anything now that I know she’s going to be watching me, so I tell her about Dylan at the party. The way he looked at me, and the way I felt.

“Whoa, whoa.” She stops rubbing her hand across my back. “You noticed Dylan? That way?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Okay. So Derrick even said if you were at all interested in Dylan, not to be. He hasn’t grown up yet.” Lora’s voice is all authoritative. “I knew Derrick was a long-shot when I first started dating him, and he’s four years older than Dylan.

I’m suddenly defensive. “Well, Dylan saw something was upsetting me when you didn’t.”

Now I wish she’d just run back to Derrick.

She sighs. “I’m sorry, Ziah. I know you’re smarter than to get involved with someone like him. And I don’t want to fight with you anymore, okay? Let’s be happy. Tomorrow’s cake day, yay!” She’s talking quietly, but still manages her Lora enthusiasm, and she’s trying really hard to lighten the mood.

I want to defend Dylan, but then she’d get the wrong impression, and it’s all the same stuff I’ve been telling myself. I’m aware that he’s not good for me. I’m also aware of how I feel when I’m around him, and that it’s probably dangerous. After safe James, no way would I risk myself with someone like Dylan.

“So. We good?” she asks.

Half of me really wants to hold on to my frustration, but I miss my sister. “We’re good. Now I want to know how you met Derrick, just don’t ramble on for too long,” I tease. I figure this is a good way to say thank you for finally taking some time away from the fiancé.

Lora laughs and tells me all about the night they met, and how that very first night he said he was going to marry her. How her roommates Karissa and Mardie put her up to this ridiculous night of things every college girl should do. If I wasn’t so opposed to them jumping into a wedding, it would be a pretty swoon-worthy story.

She makes Mom’s hot chocolate, and we fall asleep watching some cheesy Lifetime movie we make fun of until we can’t keep our eyes open any longer. I’ve missed having my sister around.

***

Soft knocking pulls me from the last bits of sleep.  “Ziah?” Lora’s voice carries through the door. “You awake?”

“I am now,” I snap. Then I remember we’re not fighting anymore.

I hate to admit Dylan was right, but it felt good to talk to Lora about everything. She gets how sucky it is for me to feel like I was the third wheel with Alyssa and James. Like they might have secretly wanted to be together, and I was in their way. Humiliation doesn’t even scratch the surface of that possibility. She tries to point out they’re obviously not together, and it might not hurt to know a little more about the situation. But I’m not ready to go there yet.

“Don’t be so grouchy.” She pushes into my room with a tray filled with muffins and hot chocolate. This is Lora-speak for “I’m still sorry.”

“I can’t believe you stayed here last night.” I rub my eyes as I push the blankets down and sit up.

“I did grow up here.” She sits down with the tray between us and grabs a muffin.

“Yes. But since then, you’ve formed an attachment.” I smirk. “Or another limb, you could call it.”

Lora rolls her eyes. “Just wait. When someone hits you…”

I hold my hand up between us. “No. Way. James was like the most loyal guy I know, the most level-headed and good, and look what happened there. No WAY am I doing that again.” Who would take the risk?

“You’ll stay single forever?” She scoffs as she shoves another heaping bite of muffin into her mouth.

“No.” I grab a chocolate chip muffin. “Maybe I’ll just start to like girls instead.” Crumbs fall out of my mouth as I talk, and we both end up giggling over it. A bit girly and pathetic, but it feels good.

“Uh…huh…” Lora smirks.

“So, what’s up?” I ask.

“So, I just got an email that my wedding dress is ready for me try on. Come with me?” she asks. “And then we’ll do cake?”

And I may not be a girlie-girl, but everyone wants to see wedding dresses. Well. And everyone should love cake.

***

“Okay. Lora. No way.” I wrap my arms around my waist as she tries to pull me from the dressing room.

Beige lace. Strapless. Small black waistband, and short. Like my legs suddenly look ten miles long because the skirt is that short. This was supposed to be her dress fitting. Not mine. I was tricked.

Also, as fun as wedding dresses are, it’s scary to be in a place where all the clothes cost as much as the average house payment. Racks and racks of them.

“Ziah, you only think it’s short because you never wear skirts, and your shorts are grandma shorts.” She makes a face.

I narrow my eyes, unappeased.

“Karissa and Mardie are both going to wear dresses that are similar but not the same. It’ll be fun!” Lora’s brows nearly reach her hairline as she changes tactics and goes for overly cheery.

I sigh. “Karissa and Mardie are the two girls that set you up with a list of dares that put you in the hospital to get stitches, and whose efforts resulted in your engagement. Am I right?”

Lora looks wistful instead of defensive. It all came out in the How I Met Derrick stuff last night.

“If it makes you feel any better, Derrick and Dylan are doing their first fittings today, too.”

I frown so I don’t smile. That does make me feel better. I can’t imagine Dylan will enjoy this any more than me. I also make the fatal mistake of loosening my arms enough for Lora to get a good hold and pull me out of the dressing room.

“Oh!” The store-owner peers over her thin glasses. “Well, aren’t you the sexy little thing.” And then she gives me a wink like this stupid dress was my idea.

I want to growl. Or snarl. Or put my ears back. Unfortunately, I’m Ziah and not an animal. I’m stuck scowling. The woman disappears into the back room again.

“Now here.” Lora holds me in front of the mirror, and I’m stunned for a moment.

I don’t look like me. I am sexy. The color shows off my tanned skin, and my legs look amazing. Not like they do in shorts, but amazing. Tall. I’m tall.

She pulls my ponytail up and tucks my hair in, leaving a messy bun. The small wisps of my hair frame my face and make my neck look long. Wow. I’m not this girl. Only now I am this girl. I didn’t think I could ever be the one who looks too hot to be touched. Wow. Just. Wow.

“And here.” Lora holds out a pair of platform heels, and I laugh.

“Yeah. Right. All sexiness would be gone as I plummeted to my death from those heights.”

“Just try them on, okay?” She pushes them closer. “I want you girls to look pretty, unlike some brides, who are determined to make her bridesmaids fade into the background in cheap satin.”

“I can’t walk in those. If you want me to break my leg before your wedding, I’ll put them on. But Lora…” I reluctantly reach out, and the shoes are practically slapped in my hands.

“If you start practicing now, they’ll be fine. Karissa and Mardie picked them out because every girl needs a good pair of black heels. Don’t be such a grouch. Cake’s next.” She grins.

Cake? She’s playing dirty again. Cake is like… Well, let’s just say that if someone were to put enough nutrition in cake for me to stay alive and only eat cake, I would.

“I forgot we were doing cake.” It’s the only part of this whole mess that I’ve been sort of looking forward to doing. The shock of the dress sort of wiped my brain clean.

“Shoes?” Her smile is too wide.

“Blackmail.” I try to frown, but I’m feeling better about Lora and me, so it doesn’t come off as mean as I want it to.

“I’m here!” Mom steps through the curtain that divides the large changing area from the front of the store. “Sorry I’m late!”

“Hey, Mom!” Lora pulls her into a hug. “I’m glad you could break away.”

“Lora?” Thin-glasses woman is at the edge of the dressing rooms. “I’ve pulled your dress.”

Lora half jumps and claps her hands together. “You put on the heels, and I’m gonna do my dress.”

“Mom.” I point to my dress.

Her brows go up. “I’ll talk to her, but you know your sister. You look stunning.” And then she just shrugs like it’s okay for her daughter to be wearing a miniature dress.

She’s right, though. There’s no arguing with Lora when she’s this determined. I slide my feet into the shoes, but they just feel so wrong. I never wear heels. Ever. All my dress shoes are flats.

They fit okay, so I take one small step and then another. And then another. I’m doing it. Sort of. But they feel like stilts, not shoes. The mirrored area in the dressing room is large. When people are trying on wedding dresses, I guess it has to be. I make a few laps, still not convinced I’ll be able to navigate the aisle without falling.

A bit of the sexiness is gone because my balance is crap in the heels, but it’s good. “No way I’ll be able to walk down the aisle in these—”

But then Lora steps out of the room in a wedding dress. A wedding dress. I know this should seem all obvious, but it didn’t hit me until now. My sister’s getting married!

It’s simple, antiqued lace and slim against her curves. The sleeves go to her elbows, but the cutout in the back is way sexy. The dress looks snug, but it still manages to flow around her as she walks. It’s both simple and complex, and every ounce of it is Lora. It also makes my beige lace bridesmaid dress seem more perfect.

“You’re beautiful.” I hold my hands to my mouth. “I mean really, seriously, beautiful.”

Mom wipes back a few tears as she touches the sheer lace of the sleeves. “Wow, honey.”

Lora takes two big swallows as she looks at herself in the mirror. “Yeah. Wow.”

“Lora?” Derrick’s voice carries from the front of the shop.

“Oh shit!” Lora freezes as she stares at the curtain that separates the two rooms.

Mom picks up the small train. “Go, Lora.” She points to the dressing room. “He can’t see you like this.”

Mom and Lora head to the dressing room.

I glance down and feel naked again.

“Go, Ziah! Keep him out of here!” Lora’s eyes are wide.

Yes. Me. Feeling naked. Again, not really feeling this dress.

“Lora?” Derrick calls again.

“Ziah! Go!” she hisses.

Mom gives me a stare, which feels wrong. I’d think she’d want to protect me from being seen by anyone in this miniature outfit.

“But—” I gesture to the dress, which gets me a finger point and a frown.

I carefully step across the room and through the large curtain into the front of the shop. But it’s not just Derrick. That would be only slightly uncomfortable. It’s also Dylan. Of course. Definitely feeling naked.

So I might not be great with guys or whatever, but there’s no mistaking the way Dylan’s looking at me. His mouth isn’t open, but his jaw is slack. And his eyes are definitely not on my face.

I have no idea if I should be offended or totally soak it in. I go for the second, because walking on stilts has me feeling reckless.