Dylan (7 page)

Trisha launching herself across the room and
into Ethan’s arms seems to break whatever spell previously fell
over us. I allow myself to glance up at Dylan and notice his smile
has slipped, and now he is looking at me with singular
concentration. It’s a probing look. As if he is trying to read
every feeling, emotion, and thought I’ve ever had. It terrifies
me.

I sit up and swing my legs over the side of
the bed to break his concentrated stare just as Trisha pulls her
lips away from Ethan.

“Okay, I need to talk to Ethan about
something real quick.” My head snaps up, and I instantly lock
pleading eyes with her.
Please no, Trisha. You don’t
understand
. “You two can wait in here.” She completely ignores
my pleading, grabs Ethan’s hand, and pulls him out of the room as
she closes the door behind them.

I keep my gaze locked on the spot where
Trisha stood just moments before. The tension in the room is
growing more awkward with every second that passes, at least for
me. The bed dips bedside me. I jerk my gaze instantly to Dylan’s as
he sits down next to me.

I can feel the warm heat of his skin, smell
the fresh, minty scent that lingers around him, and feel the
intensity of his stare clear through my body. I really need to move
away, I want to move away, but that would make this even more
awkward. So instead, I stay very still. I’m not even sure I’m
breathing.

“Hi.” The word slips from my lips on a
whisper so quiet I’m afraid he didn’t hear it. I will have to clear
my throat to speak again.

Then he smiles, and I know that he did hear
me. I wonder how closely he had to of been paying attention in
order to.

“Hi.” His voice is a lot smoother than mine.
Just like the last time I heard him speak, a rush of warmth surges
through my veins.

I think I really might be all of those
things Steven tells me I am. I don’t want to feel anything around
Dylan, not the warmth, the tingles, or the desire to be closer to
him. I don’t want to want to lean in and rest my face against his
neck so that I can breathe him into me, but I do.

What exactly does that say about me?
How can I expect anyone to understand how much I hate what Steven
does to me when I find myself wishing I could be that close to
Dylan? It’s just wrong, and it shatters me.

“Want to tell me what has you thinking so
hard over there?” Dylan’s hand lifts, and his fingers come up to
smooth the skin around my scrunched up eyebrows. His touch is as
addictive as he is, and I jump up from the bed like it burned
me.

“Nothing. I’m still not sleeping with you.”
I don’t know why I said that.
Why did I say that?

His grin is back in all of its hypnotizing
glory. “I still haven’t asked you to. Why are you so on edge?” He
lifts a brow as he studies me, and then he snaps his fingers as if
he has found the solution to all of the world’s problems.

He shifts, and pulls a slim, aluminum
container from his pocket. “This will help you relax, and don’t
worry it won’t cloud your judgment.” His lips pull up as if he just
had an afterthought. “Actually, it might. I don’t know.” He shakes
his head, opens the container, and pulls out a slim, white cylinder
that looks almost like a cigarette.

He brings it to his lips, pulls a lighter
from the case, and lights it on a deep inhale.
Did he really
just light up a joint in Trisha’s bedroom?
He holds it out to
me, and I take two big steps away from him; my eyes wide in horror.
I know exactly what drugs do to people. There’s no way he’s getting
anywhere near me with that. He frowns as he shifts his eyes between
the joint and me.

“You don’t smoke.” His eyes light up in
understanding, and he immediately stubs out the glowing light from
the tip of the joint. “Sorry, I’m an ass. I just thought that since
Trisha parties and you’re cousins . . .” He trails off when my eyes
get even bigger.
Trisha smokes Pot?
Why doesn’t this
surprise me?

He lifts a hand to run through his rumpled
mass of sandy hair and shakes his head. “God, I’m really fucking
this up.” He lifts his eyes to me, and the look in them is so
defeated it sends a tiny jolt to my heart.

Before I can think too much about it, I find
myself walking a little closer to him, and his eyes follow my every
step until there is only a small distance between us.

“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal, really.” I
sigh, and nibble on my bottom lip. “I’ve just had some really bad
experiences with people who use drugs.”
Why did I add that last
part?

His frown deepens, and I can see in his eyes
that he wants me to elaborate on that. He wants to ask me a million
questions, and I can practically see every one of them as they
flicker in his green depths. He stays quiet though. He just studies
me.

“I’m sorry.” It seems like an eternity
passes before he speaks again, and all he says is these two simple
words, but they are more than enough.

“It’s really okay. I’m sorry I was so
awkward about it.” I sit back down next to him, and allow myself to
breathe in deeply.

His warm scent doesn’t bother me so much
this time. It’s actually kind of welcome, and even though my head
is screaming that’s not a good thing, I can’t seem to make myself
move away again.

“You know Trisha and Ethan aren’t really
talking, right?” I glance over, and he wiggles his eyebrows at me
playfully.

I can’t help but giggle at his goofy
expression as I nod. I’m grateful for his attempt at humor in what
quickly became an awkward conversation. His smile grows, and a look
I can’t explain lingers in his eyes.

“What’s the deal with Trisha anyway?” His
tone is curious, but the look on his face is more of a man asking
on behalf of his friend then for his own interest.

I know what he’s referring to. He’s talking
about the games she’s playing with his friend, he’s trying to be a
good friend, but Trisha is my cousin.

Instead of explaining everything she just
told me, I shrug, and answer with a simple I don’t know.

The look on his face says he doesn’t believe
me, but he doesn’t press me for answers. Instead, he changes the
subject.

“Are you going to the fight this weekend? I
know Trisha will be there, and I won’t even lie and say I don’t
want you to be there too.” Dylan’s words make my heart stop and my
palms start to sweat.
Say no, Raven! You can’t be close to him
like this!

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
What? That’s the
opposite of no, Raven!

Dylan’s smile is so bright it rivals every
star I’ve ever seen. I can’t look away. It’s not one thing in
particular about him that draws me in, it’s everything
. How
could I not want to be close to him?
How could anyone not want
to be close to him?

“I’m still not sleeping with you.” I say
just as the door swings open, and an extremely disheveled Trisha
and Ethan stumble in. I look at them briefly before I shift my gaze
back to Dylan.

His expression is amused as he brings a hand
up to run soft fingers over the skin of my cheek. I tense from
head-to-toe, but if he notices, he doesn’t say anything about
it.

“I still haven’t asked.” His words are only
loud enough for me to hear, but when I look back at Trisha, she is
smiling like a kid in a candy store, and I know it’s because of our
close proximity.

“Let’s go, D. We have things to take care
of.” Ethan’s words seem to pull Dylan’s attention away from me.

He stands, and my eyes follow his movements
until my head is tipping back just to see his face towering above
me.

“See you ladies this weekend.” He winks at
me, gives a slight wave to Trisha, and then follows Ethan out of
the room.

As soon as the door closes behind them,
Trisha is on me again. She jumps up onto the bed, practically
squealing as she lands. “Oh my God! He was touching you, and the
way he was looking at you—Oh my God, Raven. I think
my
panties even got wet. Wow!”

I look at her in horror. She really doesn’t
have
that little voice in her head that stops a person from saying
things that really don’t need to be said.

“Gross, Trisha!”

She grins her supermodel grin, and then
pulls me in for a hug. “Why don’t you and Harper crash here with me
tonight? I can take you home in the morning before my first
class.”

The thought of not facing what waits for me
at home is too good to be true. I want us to stay here forever, but
I know that if Uncle Jim found out the truth he would blame
himself. I would never let him take the blame for this. He almost
found out once, and at the time, I had wanted him to, but as far as
he knows, Mom is clean. I’m sure he figured I may have been
slightly neglected, but I was being taken care of the best way his
sister knew how.

It was a Tuesday. I remember there was rain
pebbling against the window, and thunder billowing in the
background. Uncle Jim had stopped by to check on Mom and me. Steven
had already cornered me in the bathroom, and I remember thinking
that I wanted Uncle Jim to barge in there. I wanted him to catch
Steven, to save me. I heard him ask Mom where I was. She told him
she didn’t know; which was true. She never paid enough attention to
know where I was or when it was happening.

Then, I heard Uncle Jim ask where Steven
was, and Mom went silent. It was like she had just realized that
Steven was missing, and unlike me, she cared about him. I heard
doors opening and closing as Steven’s hand stayed clasped tightly
over my lips. We were both completely naked, and Steven had
stopped, frozen, as soon as he’d heard Uncle Jim’s voice, but he
was still lodged inside of me. The bathroom door opened slowly, and
I watched as my mother peeked in at us.

I was frozen. My heart pounding violently
in my chest as my eyes pleaded for her to do something,
anything.
Save me!
I screamed at her with my eyes, but she
had looked at me with disgust and hatred before closing the door.
It was as if she had just walked in on someone taking a shit
instead of her own daughter being raped. I heard her tell Uncle Jim
that Steven must have gone out while she wasn’t paying
attention.

Steven snickered as he started moving again,
and I tried to scream past the force of his hand over my lips. It
must have been somewhat of a decent scream, because Steven smashed
my skull against the wall, causing stars to dance in my eyes, my
vision darkened, and the last thing I heard was Uncle Jim asking
what that noise was.

When I woke up, the living room had been
destroyed. Mom had said that Uncle Jim had been worried about me,
and had flipped out at her for not knowing where I was. My gut told
me there was a lot more to that story . . .

Trisha snaps her fingers in front of my
face. “Earth to, Raven! Where did you go just now?” There is a
concerned look in her eyes that she can’t hide even though I know
she won’t voice it.

The next time Uncle Jim saw me he had asked
me a lot of questions. Questions I couldn’t answer. “I can’t stay.
Harper has a doctor’s appointment super early, and I have to start
looking for an apartment.”

I had graduated this past year, and even
though I wasn’t eighteen yet, I wanted the security of knowing I
had somewhere safe for me and Harper.

“Okay, well maybe I will see you after
classes tomorrow.” Trisha is taking summer classes at the local
college to give her a boost before she leaves for Tuscan University
in the fall.

“I’ll swing by.” I promise, and I know that
I will. I don’t want to be home any more than she wants to be away
from Ethan.

We spend the next few hours talking about
not much of anything, except Ethan of course. Uncle Jim orders in a
couple deep-dish pizzas for dinner, and then tries calling Mom to
let her know he’s keeping Harper and me for a few hours, but she
doesn’t answer. The sad look on his face is one that will haunt me
for the rest of my life. Uncle Jim is one of those men who wants to
fix all the world’s problems. I bet he feels like he failed in the
biggest possible way when he couldn’t even save his own
sister—which couldn’t be further from the truth. You can’t help
people who don’t want to be helped.

Uncle Jim forces himself to relax, and after
dinner, we sit down to watch a Disney movie about an ice princess
and a snowman that talks. Harper loves it, and I can’t help but
smile every time she giggles or tries to sing along. By the time
the credits roll across the screen, she’s sound asleep in Uncle
Jim’s arms. Trisha is sprawled on the opposite couch, and a soft
snore is filling the air around her now that the movie is off.

“Come on, Princess. Let’s get you home.”
Uncle Jim stands and carries Harper in his arms.

She doesn’t wake once as we leave the house.
Not when Uncle Jim shifts to open the car door, not as he buckles
her into the car seat he keeps just for her, and not as he starts
the engine to take us home.

The ambulance and twenty flashing police
cars are not what I expected to see when we pull up to my apartment
complex. I watch as Uncle Jim slowly pulls up to the scene with a
worried frown on his face. By the way his lips are pulled down, I
know he must have the same bad feeling I do in the pit of my
stomach. The one that screams something isn’t right.

A uniformed officer with chiseled features
and a beard that hangs to his chest stops us before Uncle Jim can
even pull fully into the parking lot. As the officer approaches the
car, Uncle Jim lowers his window, and my grip on the door handle
tightens almost painfully as I see another officer walk out of my
apartment.

My mother is not a good person. I wasn’t
blessed with someone who loved me, kept me safe, or worried over
me, but Lisa Vandell is still my mom. Even with all of the horrible
things she has done to me, or allowed to be done to me, I still
love her in the way only a daughter can love a woman like her.