Dylan (5 page)

A knock at the door pulls me out of the daze
I hadn’t realized I’d been in, and I quickly register two things:
someone is outside of my apartment, and Harper is crying. I scrub
at my face and hurry into my room. Harper is standing up in the
playpen. Her dark hair is in curls around her face, and her brown
eyes are overflowing with tears that are cascading down her chubby
cheeks.

I pick Harper up, hush her quietly, and head
toward the front door. Harper snuggles under my chin and wraps her
small hands into my hair. When I make it to the front door, I
hesitate. No one good ever just stops by, they call first. So, I’m
terrified this might be one of Steven’s buddies, or fellow drug
user, but when I pull open the door, I’m not at all prepared for
the person standing on the other side.

“Raven!” Trisha is smiling at me excitedly,
and her straight white teeth make her look like a Hollywood
starlit. Bright blue eyes drift to Harper. “Hey there, Princess!
Why are you crying?” She runs her long fingers across Harpers
cheek, and her eyes soften as Harper sniffles to rein in her tears.
“You are going to be such a heartbreaker, Harper.”

I want to ask what she’s doing here, but I
don’t want to make her suspect anything. I know I need to get her
far away from here before Steven gets back, but I can’t make my
lips move to form a believable excuse. Steven has never actually
met Trisha. Like I said, Uncle Jim and Trisha usually call before
they show up, and I always try to only have them here when Steven
is gone. It’s obvious that if Steven were to see her that he would
like what he sees, and I know exactly what will happen next. Trisha
is gorgeous, and unfortunately, Steven isn’t blind—neither are his
friends. He wouldn’t be able to have her the way he has me, and
maybe he wouldn’t risk going to jail, but there’s a very real
possibility that in his mind it would be worth a night of fun.

“Are you going to invite me in, Raven?” She
questions, and I quickly shake my head no as I clear my throat a
little too loudly.

“We were just heading out to see you
actually.” I fib and hope like hell she won’t question it.

Her face lights up. “Really? Perfect! Come
on, you can ride with me instead of cabbing it. I really need to
talk to you.”

My face draws down in curiosity, but I will
do anything to get her away from here at this point. So I step
forward, effectively pushing her away from the door. “Great, let’s
go.”

Her lips part as if she’s about to say
something, but I push fully past her to close the door quickly
behind me. I grab her arm and practically drag her after me. I take
the stairs at a too fast pace. I can hear Trisha’s muffled curse as
she staggers in her heeled boots.

“Slow down, killer. It’s nothing that
requires this frenzied pace you’re carrying on with.” I slow down
slightly at the concern in her voice—but not much.

I’m on a mission to get us out of here. I
won’t stop until I do. My pulse is thrumming through me, but all I
can see is Trisha’s pained expression as Steven does the same
things to her that he does to me. I can’t stand the images flashing
through my mind. I don’t register that we’ve made it outside until
Trisha jerks her arm from my grasp.

“What the hell has gotten into you, Raven?”
She rubs her hands over her jean-covered thighs and adjusts her
lacy pink top.

“I’m just excited.” I force the words out
through my parched lips as we climb into Trisha’s fancy, red sports
car. I watch a smile grow on her face as my words remind her of why
she’s here. “You seemed pretty happy about whatever it is you need
to talk to me about.”

I buckle Harper into the back seat, and wish
I had grabbed her car seat from my room. I tuck the chest belt
behind her back as I climb into Trisha’s car just as she closes the
driver side door.

“Oh my God, Raven! I have the greatest news
for you.” She gushes as she starts the car and pulls out into
mid-afternoon traffic. I clutch at the door handle as she barely
scraps by a passing car. “Watch where you’re going, shitheads!” She
yells out the window before turning to face me.

“I talked to Dylan last night, and he is
totally into you! Can you believe it?” Her long blonde hair sways
around her face as her attention switches between me and the road
ahead.

The expression on her face mirrors the
excitement of a child on Christmas at the thought of someone taking
interest in me. I would be offended if I weren’t so horrified.

“Dylan? I don’t know anyone named . . .” An
image of a dangerously handsome dirty blonde crosses my mind. I
don’t have to finish the thought. I know exactly who Dylan is. D is
for Dylan.

At the look of understanding on my face
Trisha continues with excitement still coloring her voice. “I
talked to him at Rylan’s Pizza last night while I was with Ethan,
and he is definitely interested in what you got going on,
girlfriend!”

I shake my head ignoring the unfamiliar
sensation that begins to heat over my skin as I think about him. I
remember the way he seemed to tower over me, the crisp green color
of his eyes, and his slender, but muscular, build. My throat is
suddenly dry. I swallow thickly to alleviate my sudden thirst.

“I’m not interested.” My voice cracks as I
force the words through my lips that are in complete contradiction
to my thoughts. I am very interested. It scares the hell out of
me.

I’ve never felt so uneasy over anyone
before. It reaffirms the fact that I can never see him again. I
glance up at Trisha, and her mouth has dropped open in shock.
Sometimes I think Trisha can’t believe we are related because I’m
not trying to bang every guy I meet.

“What do you mean you’re
not
interested? Are you a lesbian, Raven?” I sputter and cough,
horrified at her assumption, but she continues completely oblivious
to my reaction. “Cause I won’t judge you. I’m a free thinker. If it
makes you happy lick it up. That’s my motto.”

I clear my throat and grab her wrist before
she can say anymore. “I’m not a lesbian, Trish. He’s just not my
type, okay?”

“Wuts a wesbian?” Harper’s little voice
shouts from the back seat, and my eyes widen in horror as Trisha
erupts into a fit of giggles beside me.

I try to think of something to say, but come
up blank. I have no idea how I can talk myself out of this.
Thankfully, Trisha recovers enough to speak on my behalf. “Cousin
Trisha needs to watch what she says around princess ears.”

She breaks at the red light, and twists
slightly to look at Harper. “It’s what one girl says to another
girl when they aren’t being nice, but it’s a word that a princess
never says. Ever! If she did she would grow warts and turn into the
Wicked Witch of the West.”

Proud of her explanation, Trisha nods her
head once, and then turns to face my mortified expression. “What?”
She shrugs. “You got a better explanation for a two year old?” I
shake my head, and she nods again before driving through the now
green light. “That’s what I thought.”

Surprising myself, I giggle under my breath.
I didn’t even realize I was finding this all that humorous, but
once I start I can’t stop. Have I seriously become so numb that I
can’t even identify how I’m feeling anymore? Trisha looks at me
like I’m crazy for a few moments before she is laughing right along
with me.

“We are horrible role models.” I huff out
between breaths as a lighter feeling settles somewhere deep inside
me. It’s euphoric, and I never want it to leave, but I know it
will.

I’ll get home, and the heaviness will return
to its rightful place in my soul. Just the thought sobers me up as
Trisha pulls into the driveway of her house and turns off the car.

All of the houses in Trisha’s neighborhood
are massive. There are palm trees in the yards, and expensive cars
in their driveways. The limestone structures are lined with green
vegetation that gives every house a paradise feel. Each home is
just slightly different from the next, but those slight differences
are the only thing that keeps them from being replicas.

“You have to at least meet up with him.”
Trisha arches one perfectly plucked brow at me as she nibbles her
bottom lip.

“Meet up with who?” I know who she is
talking about, but I know I won’t.

Dylan may be sexy as sin, but I am too
damaged. It’s more than obvious by the leggy blonde that was draped
all over him, Dylan is no virgin.
What would I do if he tried to
touch me?
The results could be mortifying.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about!”
Trisha’s high-pitched voice pulls me out of my horrified thoughts
as she climbs out of the car.

I huff out an exaggerated sigh as I follow
her out. I open Harper’s door and unbuckle her just in time for her
to shove past me in her rush toward the front door as Uncle Jim
steps outside. He holds his arms out to take the impact as her tiny
body crashes against his.

“Unfel Jim!” Harper’s happy squeal carries
through the suburban neighborhood, and causes Trisha and Uncle Jim
to laugh at her enthusiasm.

“I’ve missed you too, sweet pea.” Uncle Jim
coos into Harper’s hair as he turns to head into the house leaving
Trisha and I to follow in behind them.

“I’m taking Raven upstairs. Can you hang out
with Harper for a bit, Daddy?” Trisha grabs my hand and starts
pulling me up the winding staircase before he has even responded.
Let’s face it though, he isn’t going to say no to Harper.

“We’re fine. You girls go on. Let’s get some
cookies, Harper.” They disappear from my sight as we round the
corner at the top of the stairs.

Trisha leads me down the hall to the bedroom
on the far right. I say bedroom, but this one room is as big as my
mother’s whole apartment. A king-sized bed covered in designer
throw pillows sits in the center of the room. One side of the room
is set up like as a seating area, complete with a full-sized
wrap-around sofa and flat screen television. The other side is what
could pass as a full salon
with a
360 degree mirror and vanity.

I’m tugged down onto the sofa and
immediately the inquisition I hadn’t been expecting begins. “Do you
want to tell me what that mark on your cheek is from?”

I can feel my eyes bulge as if they are
about to come rolling out of my skull. “What . . . what are you
talking about?” My hand instantly goes to the spot where my face
was stinging only a short time ago. How had I forgotten about that?
God, Raven!

Trisha narrows her eyes and tilts her head
watching me rub at my face. I drop my hand away automatically.
“Uh-huh. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Is Aunt
Lisa on drugs again?”

She never stopped!
I want to shout at
her, but I press my lips tightly together, and shake my head. “No .
. . no, of course not. I just forgot I tripped getting out of the
shower this morning. Hit my cheek on the corner of the shower. I
didn’t even realize it left a mark.”

Trisha breathes an audible sigh of relief.
“Oh, okay. God, I was worried there for a minute. I know Daddy said
she never hit you when she was on drugs, but he said she used to
get really violent with him. I was hoping I was wrong.”

This is news to me, and I wonder why nobody
ever warned me. I guess they assumed it wasn’t something I needed
to know. As far as Uncle Jim knows, Mom has been clean since I was
eight. They are never around to see all of the evidence to the
contrary, and I can’t blame them. Even without the drugs, my mother
is too much to handle.

I paste a smile on my face and hope it is
enough to hide the sudden panic assaulting me. “No worries.”

“Good, but we really should cover that up.
Ethan will be by later, and I don’t want him asking questions that
will make you uncomfortable.”

I hadn’t even thought about that, and as I
look in the mirror that hangs on the wall across the room from me,
I’m thankful that it is just a small red mark. I nod, and Trisha
instantly moves to the vanity unit. She grabs a bottle of skin
colored goo and moves back to me looking relaxed as she starts
dabbing the goo onto my face. “So . . . about Dylan?”

This snaps me out of my mental anguish, and
I shake my head no. There is absolutely no way I am allowing Trisha
to play matchmaker. It would only end poorly and embarrass us both.
I don’t at all feel confident enough in my own abilities to keep
what’s happening to me under wraps if there is another man
involved. A man who would expect certain things I am not capable of
giving him.

“Oh, why? Dylan has his faults, but it’s not
like you have to marry him. Just hang out a little. Get to know
each other a bit.” Trisha pleads with me as she recaps the bottle
of goo, and wipes off her fingers on a hand towel that hangs from
her vanity.

“I’m just not interested. He seemed like
kind of a douche bag.” It’s a lie, but I hope it is one she
believes. I really need her to let this go.

“Well . . . I don’t think he’s a douche bag,
but I can see where you would get that impression. They are a rowdy
bunch of guys.” She slouches back into the sofa, and I know exactly
how to change the topic.

I find myself smiling as I say. “Speaking of
rowdy boys, how is Ethan?”

A grin spreads over her lips, and she jumps
back up until she is leaning toward me with excitement twinkling in
her blue eyes. “Oh, Raven! I seriously love that man!”

I chuckle lightly at the whimsical look on
her face, but really, I envy her. I want the normality of a typical
teenage romance, and I vow that Harper will have this someday.
“Then why do you torture him so much? I thought he was going to
blow a gasket when he saw you dancing with that other guy at the
party!”

“You have so much to learn about men,
Raven.” She leans back again and looks up at the high vaulted
ceiling as she continues. “Ethan is not the kind of man you can
allow yourself to cater to. He gets bored easily. I know that as
long as he is reacting like a caveman, I still have him. I need
that security.”