To Love A Broken Heart

Chapter 6

Dylan POV

Dread filled me to my core as I drove home. I’ve felt dread alot before. Usually on my first days at a new school, but I’ve stopped feeling it then. Now I feel it everytime I drive home. Dread that she’s going to tell me we’re leaving. Dread that something was going to go wrong. Doctors would probably describe this as anxiety, but it was just an emotion. A constant emotion that stuck with me until I leave the house to go to school or to just not be there. It wasn’t anxiety. It was just dread. A deep feeling of fear that always stayed. 

Normally as I drove I would have no music playing. I would drive in silence but this time I decided to tune to the radio so I wasn’t alone with my thoughts that would eat me. Chances By The Backstreet Boys played softly in the background. An old 90’s by band that somehow was still around. My mom loved them for some reason. I didn’t get the hype, but whatever. She was alive then, they were big. It's a trend that she stuck with all her life. Stupid I know. 

What if I hadn't asked for your name?
And time hadn't stopped when you said it to me?

Those lyrics instantly made me think of Maia. I asked for her name early and time might as well have stopped. What are the chances that we met? I mean, we could have moved anywhere. We haven’t been anywhere, and she’s had multiple different offers, but what made my mom choose here? Was it fate, or just a game of chance? No, I’m overthinking this. I’m just a guy, and she's just a girl. A very pretty girl who has so much mystery and layers, and I just want to peel open like an orange. Just not as violently. She's not an orange. She's more of a flower, beautiful, but can turn into something amazing if she'd just let her outside and fears wilt away. 

A big movers van was parked in front of the house with two men hauling boxes in the house. I parked my truck in the driveway, taking the keys out of the ignition and getting out. 

Our new house was rather big. A two story house with white siding and grey bricks lining the bottom. A couple of green bushes planted in the front, but that was the only color. The garage was connected to the house. The part I knew would become my pottery studio. She wasn’t going to do anything else to the garage besides store boxes that we would use again in a few months. I went over to the passenger side opening the door and grabbing my bag, before closing it and heading into the house. I avoided the movers as I entered and saw the whole living room and entrance filled with boxes. The inside of the house was equally as bland as the house looked outside. Most of the rooms carpeted a tan and painted various bland colors like a dark blue or some vomit looking green. The kitchen was tiled white along with all the bathrooms. But the wall in the kitchen was made of various fake blue pebbles and the bathrooms were brown wood. The design of the house was as distasteful as I felt towards moving again. 

I avoided boxes as I manovered myself up the stairs to my room to toss my backpack. The pails of paint on the floor where I left them before going to bed. My room was tiled with brown wood, which was fine. I didn’t really like the feel of carpet, but was painted the same vomit looking dark green as downstairs. The minute I saw my room yesterday I knew it had to change, so I went and bought a couple cans of a blue. Not a dark blue like the rest of the house, or a bright blue that would give me a headache. I got a calm blue. A color that should help me relax and not be as pissed off with this whole move. I tossed my bag on the bed frame I moved away and into the center of the room last night. I moved everything that was pre given in the room to the middle so I could paint. Which means I hit my elbow on my dresser a few times in my sleep. “Dilly”. A squeaky voice yelled.

Someone jumped on my back and I had to adjust to I was holding their legs and bouncing them up so their hands were grasped around my neck more comfortably. “Hey, Cal. How was your first day of school”?