Fish Out of Water (28 page)

Grandma gives him a curious look, but doesn’t seem too upset about Joel being here. “Sorry?”

“You’re forgiven.”

While Joel distracts her with stories about his other patients, my parents grab their work things. Mom catches my eye and motions for me to follow them into the garage. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m in trouble. “What is it?”

Dad straightens his glasses. “This might upset you, but your mom and I were thinking you probably shouldn’t bring Dylan here for awhile. Just in case she has another bad reaction.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” I try to act cool, but all I can think of is what happened yesterday. “I was already planning on that, actually. He’ll understand.”

Mom smiles. “I’m sure he will. Have a good day, sweetie.”

“You, too!” When they’re gone, I rush around the house getting ready for work. I wish I could wear anything except my uniform, but at least I’ll get to see Dylan for four whole hours. I pedal extra fast on my way to AnimalZone, not even embarrassed that I’ll be early and obviously excited to see him.

I park my bike in back and run my fingers through my hair. My heart pounds as I clock in, picturing the smile on his face at the sight of me. But when I get to Aquatics, he’s not there. I check the register, frowning when he’s nowhere in sight. He has to be here somewhere if the store is open.

Finally, I break down and head for Clark’s office. He sits in front of the computer, rifling through bills. He jumps when he sees me. “Oh, there you are, Mika.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Where else would I be?”

He offers a small smile, but something seems off about it. “So your friend never called me. Does she not need the job anymore?”

My brow furrows. “I told you, she wants to start a restaurant with her brother.”

“Oh, right!” He fiddles with the papers on his desk. “Sorry, guess I forgot.”

He must need another employee more than I realized if he’s bringing this up again. “I mean, she might change her mind, but she doesn’t have a phone because her parents cut hers off. It’s hard for me to stay in contact with her lately.”

“Sounds familiar,” he says.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I purse my lips, suddenly feeling weird asking him. “Speaking of the help, where’s Dylan?”

“D-Dylan?” His voice cracks, and he pulls at his collar.

I frown. “Is he sick or something?”

He gulps. “Not exactly.”

The warning bells start going off, but my boss is the last person I want to freak out in front of. “What do you mean by ‘not exactly’?”

He sighs, and with it his face falls into something part-sadness part-anger. “I don’t know how that punk expected me to do this. It’s really not fair to either one of us after all that’s happened this summer.”

“What are you talking about?” The panic is rising, rising, rising, like a tide coming in too fast. “Did something happen to him?”

He takes a slip of paper from his desk and holds it out to me. “I’m so sorry, Mika.”

I take it, trying not to show how scared I am. It’s the kind of paper you write a grocery list on, and I imagine this was written in their kitchen at home. I don’t want to read the words, but I force myself to:

Uncle, I’m going back to apologize. I have to do it now before I chicken out. Tell Mika for me. Bye.

—Dylan

Chapter 42

He must have left in the middle of the night,” Clark says when I don’t answer for who-knows-how-long. “I found that this morning. He took all his stuff and my car. I never thought he would do this…he seemed so happy.”

I shake my head. “You’re misunderstanding what this means.” He has to be. Dylan wouldn’t just up and leave the same day we…“He wouldn’t steal your car and never come back. That’s not who he is anymore.”

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t seem convinced, and I’m not sure if it makes me mad or scared. “I hate to say it, but he doesn’t exactly have the best track record.”

“I’m sure,” I say, though my mind is racing in all different directions. He wouldn’t leave me after all we’ve been through. Or was it just a game to him? No, it wasn’t. The way he defended me from my grandma yesterday wasn’t a lie. No one could be that deceitful. “There has to be an explanation. He’ll call. He probably just didn’t want to wake me up in the middle of the night. And it’s not like San Jose is that far away. He probably just wanted to clear the air with his parents, and he’ll be back tonight.”

Clark purses his lips, thinking it over. “That doesn’t sound impossible. I sure hope you’re right.”

“I’m right.” I have to be. I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m wrong. “I’ll get to work now.”

When I’m not checking my phone, I scrub and vacuum and brush and help every customer that comes through the door, but the day still goes by much slower without Dylan to talk to. How I ever did this alone baffles me.

I’m tempted to call him, but I also don’t want to look needy just because he’s gone for one day. It’s been three hours and I still haven’t gotten a phone call, so I decide I’m allowed to at least send a text. It takes me a few minutes to settle on:
Did you get there safely?

That’s neutral enough. Shows I care but I’m not freaking out. I hit send and wait for a reply. 

Nothing. For a whole hour.

He doesn’t have time to send me one line telling me he’s okay? I tap at my phone, waiting and wondering why he decided
now
was the time to go see his parents. When we saw them at the mall, he still seemed furious with them. But he
did
say he wished they could be happy. Maybe he really does miss them.

Shaking myself out of it, I focus on fish tanks. There’s something soothing about watching fish swim. They’re graceful and quiet, in a world all their own. They’re so…not enough to keep me distracted from the fact that my boyfriend just up and left in the middle of the night for a reason I can’t understand.

I pull up my text window again.
Are you okay? Starting to worry.

I send it before I think too much about how needy I might sound. But he was driving in the middle of the night, and San Jose is almost three hours away. What if he fell asleep at the wheel and got hurt? Because he wouldn’t just go home without contacting me. He wouldn’t leave me like that. I’m sure of it.

Why does Shreya not have a phone right now? I need her to tell me this is okay. I need her to talk me off the cliff while I stuff my face with curry. Except I can’t go eat curry thanks to all her family drama.

The second I get off work, I’m desperate enough to call Pavan. He answers cheerily. “Hello, Mika. You looking for my sister?”

“You had her for a whole day.” My voice is decidedly whiny. “You better give her back to me.”

His laugh is hearty. “We’re actually just about to leave for your house.”

“Good. See you soon, then.” I get on my bike, but then can’t decide where to eat. Another text, just in case his phone is on vibrate.
When are you coming back? I wanted to go out with you tonight.

I end up going home. Joel raises his eyebrow when I enter the kitchen, where he’s making lunch. “You’re early.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to eat anywhere.” I’m starting to not want to eat
anything
, but I don’t say that. “Those grilled cheeses sure look good, though.”

He laughs as he grabs more bread. “You’re very subtle.”

“It’s a talent.” I stare at the clock, hoping Shreya comes soon. Then I check my phone, wishing it would ring or beep or something. Shouldn’t Dylan at least text me back? What’s so hard about typing a quick message so I don’t totally lose it wondering what that note—

Grandma puts her hand on my knee, which was bouncing a hundred times a minute. “You’re shaking the table, girl.”

“Sorry,” I say, though I don’t like her calling me “girl.” Maybe she’s having a hard time remembering my name.

“You okay?” Joel asks as he sets our plates in front of us. “You seem…nervous.”

“I do?”

His eyes narrow. “I should warn you—I’m
very
hard to fool. So if you plan on lying to me, don’t bother.”

“I wasn’t.” I sigh, trying to let some of my nerves go with it. There’s no reason for me to be this wound up. Everything is probably fine. I’ll feel silly if I worry too much and then find out it’s nothing. “It’s not a big deal. If I find out it is, then I’ll be sure to tell you. I don’t want to stress anyone out.”

“You promise?”

“Of course.” The doorbell rings, and I hop up. “That must be Shrey! Finally.”

I practically tackle her after I open the door, never happier to see her in my life. She laughs as she hugs me back. “You’d think I was gone for a year with that welcome.”

“I told you I can’t live without you. There’s so much I need to tell you—you have no idea.” I pull her toward my room, and I think I hear Joel complaining about me not eating the food he made. But this can’t wait any longer. I have to tell Shrey before I explode with panic.

By the time I’m done recapping the hospital freak out, what happened after, and the note Dylan left for Clark, she stares at me with wide eyes and no words. I pull Dylan’s note from my pocket, and she reads it a few times. Finally, she says, “It has to be a misunderstanding. If he didn’t like being here, why would he write a note at all? Wouldn’t he just leave?”

“True! Yes.” I pace my room, this odd energy coursing through me. I have no idea what it is, but there’s no way I can sit. “Excellent point. So I shouldn’t worry, right?”

“No, but you should just call him,” Shreya says. “You’ve given him plenty of time and texts to reply to. You’re his girlfriend—you don’t have to apologize for wanting to hear from him.”

“You’re right.” I grab my phone and call his number. My hand shakes as I put it to my ear. Shreya leaves the room while it rings.

“Why hello, Mika,” a voice says. A female voice. “Or should I say Fish Girl?”

I can’t breathe, and I have no idea what to say except, “London.”

“You slept with him, didn’t you?”

When I don’t answer immediately, she laughs and laughs.

Chapter 43

I should be cussing out London, defending myself, demanding to speak to Dylan. Something. But all I can do is listen to her laugh and wonder why the hell she’s answering his phone. Is she in his house? His room?

“The second I saw that dumpy car in the driveway I knew he must have come home,” London says when she finally stops snickering. “And sure enough, I was right. Didn’t I tell you, Mika? Dylan doesn’t have girlfriends.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I want it to sound strong, but instead I sound squeaky and weak.

“Oh yeah? So you didn’t sleep with him?”

I don’t answer again.

She scoffs. “You thought you were so much better than me, that you somehow changed him. You were a game, like all the other girls—a tougher game, sure, but still a game. Once he won, he did what he always does. He got bored and moved on. I think you should get over it, too.”

Her words feel like burning hot acid dripped straight on my heart. Not because I believe her, but because she’s saying everything I’m afraid of. I force the lump in my throat down, determined not to show my weakness. “You’re full of crap. Dylan’s not like that anymore, so let me talk to him.”

“He went golfing with his dad, didn’t even bother to bring this cheap-ass phone. His mom called me over to play tennis, and I just happened to hear it ring.”

“You’re lying.” I can’t fall for this. London hates me, she’s obviously trying to scare me away. “Give him the phone.”

“He’s gone. I swear.”

“Let me talk to him. Now,” I growl.

She sighs. “Clinginess is not a very attractive quality. You really can’t get the picture?” I hear someone else in the background. It sounds like another woman. Then London says, “I’ll be right there, Mrs. Wainwright!”

No, was that really her, or is London pretending? Maybe Dylan actually is out golfing with his dad.

“I gotta go, but let me give you some advice, Mika,” London says. “Dylan is beyond charming, but you need to accept this before you hurt yourself more.”

The way she talks, it feels like she pities me. I wish I could punch her. “I don’t need to accept anything. He’s coming back—and he’d talk to me right now if you weren’t such a bitch.”

“Are you that dense?” She takes a deep breath. “Dylan isn’t coming back. He came home to tell his parents he was sorry for what he did, and they forgave him. He doesn’t belong at his uncle’s dirty old pet shop—he has much bigger things to do in his life. Do you understand?”

I grit my teeth. “He said he didn’t want what his dad forced on him. He said he hated his life.”

“Maybe he did. But then he saw how much it sucks to be poor, and now he’s learned his lesson. I guess I should thank you for helping him see the light, but if you really care about him you’ll let him go. It might sound harsh, but there’s no place in his life for a girl like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yes. Please don’t call him again.” London hangs up without even a polite farewell.

I immediately call back, ready to unleash my best swearing on her. She can’t possibly think I’d fall for that. She doesn’t pick up, and I call and call until I get the message that his phone is off. I let out a frustrated grunt. “You think that’ll stop him? He’ll call me back, bitch! He has my number memorized and he can find a phone.”

I know he will. He’d never do that to me.

#

Four days pass without a single text or email or phone call from Dylan. I’ve called so many times I’ve lost count. I try to remain strong, but as I sit on my bed and stare at my phone I don’t know what to think. He lives in a huge mansion—there’s no way he can’t find a phone or get internet access. Whether London told the truth or not, her words are beginning to hurt.

Am I being clingy? Did I miss some big sign that he didn’t actually care about me? Because I was never so sure about a guy in my life.

Part of me still wants to believe she’s lying. Maybe he’ll still call. Maybe she’s hatched this elaborate scheme to keep us apart now that he’s come home. Except I realize that sounds way crazier than admitting I was his summer fling and now he’s back to his fancy life in his mansion surrounded by power and money. It’s not like I’m in some TV drama—that really is the most logical explanation.