Joy

Part 13

Dylan's P.O.V.

We're half-wet lying on the bed in one of the rooms. Joy has one of the white shirts we found in the closet. It's a bit too big, so it's like a dress on her. We're sitting on the bed and she's turned toward the TV.

Joyce: What do you wanna watch?
Dylan: Maybe Fifty shades of grey?

She turns and looks at me.

Joyce: No way.
Dylan: I'm kidding. Put whatever you like.

The movie is over.

Joyce: I can't believe you never watched Dirty dancing.
Dylan: Why?
Joyce: It's a classic.
Dylan: Do I look like someone who's watching classics?
Joyce: No, but who didn't watch that?

Dylan: I can count at least 5 people I know who didn't watch that.
Joyce: That's sad...
Dylan: And I can't believe you didn't watch Fifty shades of grey.
Joyce: That's not so strange.
Dylan: It is...

She rolls her eyes- which I barely see since we're lying in the complete darkness.

Dylan: I practically heard that eye-roll.
Joyce: Thank God I have someone who knows me so well.

I grin in the dark and turn toward her. 

"What?" she smiles and turns toward me. 
Dylan: Nothing...
Joyce: You're looking at me weirdly. And I'm pretty weird so I know what am I talking about. 

I laugh and she smiles. We're just lying like that- pretty much staring at each other. I don't think I've ever been in a bed with a girl and just stared at her. But Joy is different than them. She looks like someone who has planned her whole life- like someone having control over everything, which is weird since, mostly, I'm the person in control. 

Joyce's P.O.V.

He's tracing my back from the bottom all the way to the back of my neck with the tips of his fingers. I start breathing fast and irregularly, feeling my heart pounding so loud and hard. I close my eyes- thinking if this is what I want. His whispering voice snaps me out of my thoughts. 

Dylan: You okay, Joy?

I like the way that "Joy" sounds when he says it. I can feel his breath on my ear. He can probably feel how uneasy this is for me. I just nod and kiss him. He pulls away, 

Dylan: Want me to stop, Joy?

Yes. No. Yes, or no. Maybe. I don't know. I don't know what am I even doing here if this is all a bet. 

Joyce: Please, don't.

He kisses me again- my lips, jawline, neck. I stop thinking. Everything disappears... it's just me and his warm hands all over my skin. I don't know how long that lasts, but at one point he just stops and hugs me. I feel a sigh of relief, but I'm also kinda disappointed. I mean, doesn't he like me?

I wake up hugging Dylan. His hands are around me- this feels so good. I'm just looking at him still sleeping. His black hair is falling in his eyes. What have I done to deserve someone like him... Suddenly, I remember this is all for some stupid bet and my mood immediately gets worse. When I remember Theresa's in all of this too... 

Dylan: Morning. 
Joyce: Morning. 

He smiles at me and I already forget about Theresa and the bet. 

Dylan's P.O.V.

I'm driving Joyce back home after the last night. I had a great time despite we didn't have sex and the fact that I lost from Theresa. But Zach was right- I should tell Theresa to fuck off. We're in front of her house. 

Dylan: This isn't the house I drove you last time. 
Joyce: I couldn't go home to my parents after a night out not remembering what happened. 

I smile. 

Dylan: I do it all the time. 
Joyce: Well, maybe I also didn't want you to know where I live...

We laugh. 

Dylan: Reasonable. It's not like I put you on a bed when you passed out next to the toilet. 
Joyce: I don't need to know anything else, please. 
Dylan: Suit yourself. 
Joyce: Anyway, thanks... for everything. I had a great time. 
Dylan: Me too. 
Joyce: See you.

She kisses me and walks to her house. 

Dylan: Bye. 

Zach: Well, at least it was fun. 
Dylan: Yeah... I guess so. 
Zach: Hey, it's your fault you'll lose. 
Dylan: I know... I'm dead tomorrow. 
Zach: So you'll really tell Theresa what you think?
Dylan: Yeah... I don't want to have anything with that bet anymore. 

Zach: It's so weird to hear you talking so... serious. 
Dylan: Really funny... 
Zach: Look, Theresa can't make you do anything if you don't want to. I only have one question.
Dylan: That is?
Zach: You had a perfect shot to win yesterday. Why didn't you?
Dylan: I don't know. 
Zach: Crap, I have to go. Call me later. 

He hangs up. We're always talking while he's working...
It's so weird to have a relationship- if I can call it like that- when I know I won't end it and be with someone else. It's like I don't have any kind of control over our future and that worries me- if we even have a future.

Joyce's P.O.V.

I'm sitting on the bed telling Martha everything that happened. She's in shock pretty much like me. 

Martha: Wow, he doesn't really seem like someone who would... do that. 
Joyce: You mean like someone who would just... stop?
Martha: Yeah. 
Joyce: And maybe he already had it without me knowing. 
Martha: I don't think so. And now you're like... together or something?
Joyce: No... Yes, I don't know. It's complicated. 
Martha: Why don't you just ask him about the bet. 

Joyce: You're right "Hi Dylan, I have a question- did you do all that just to get in bed with me and then just gave up cause you... I don't know- already lost the bet?"
Martha: That sarcasm is not necessary, but okay. 
Joyce: I don't know... Maybe if I ask Theresa?
Martha: Really? Do you want to find that out from Theresa? That's worse than flashing pictures in your head. 
Joyce: I won't do anything... If he tells me- okay, if he just stops with everything- okay... I don't care. 

Martha: You can't just say that you don't care since it's so obvious you do care. 
Joyce: And how do you know that?
Martha: Joy, you spend...
Joyce: Don't call me like that, please. 
Martha: Okay... That's weird. 

It reminds me of Dylan too much. 

Martha: Anyways, you do care and it's not easy to pretend that you don't. 
Joyce: We'll see what happens.