Just You

Eighteen

Eighteen

#Jake

 Dawn was breaking when I woke up and I was feeling so much better. In fact, I could not have felt any better. It's like I was never sick at all. I unpeeled all the layers of blankets and whatnot that Dylan had piled upon me. The scene from my window was beautiful. The sky was a soft shade of purple and darkness and light were battling each other. I wanted to share the spectacle with the girl who had fallen asleep beside me because I knew she would love it. I nudged her awake and I loved how Dylan,  the first girl who actually got in my bed and just slept, looked so adorably embarrassed as she scrambled to get away from me upon realizing that she had fallen asleep on my bed.I chuckled.

Dylan reminded me of dawn. Both were constant reminders and tangible proofs that despite the darkness before the dawn, there is always a promise of light.

"Dylan, look," I pointed to the Victorian glass window which was perfectly positioned across my bed.

She gazed at the sky in awe and wonder, but as the orange melted with the purple, I found myself gazing at Dylan. I caught myself doing that a lot lately, looking at her, but I feel like I haven't had enough. 

"It's beautiful," she whispered breathily.

"You're beautiful," I found myself saying or at least the Jake who kissed Dylan did.

Fudge. Jake, you idiot!

She whipped around to look at me, her eyes wide. Then, she decided to take it as a joke and look out the window. I already counted on that considering Dylan's self-esteem. I could tell she didn't hear that very often, and now, I wonder why. I wonder why only now did I realize it myself. 

We just sat there in silence watching the sun rise. A new day, There isn't much of a change, the sun rises, and the sun will set. But something is different. There's something different between Dylan and I. I just have to figure out what.

...

I tried to make breakfast for us but I failed terribly, wasting some perfectly good eggs. So, Dylan took over. Mom was back to normal. She was passed out in the couch. That's normal. No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I can't get her to quit drinking. I think I sort of just given up and just accepted it.

I watched Dylan expertly move in the kitchen while sitting on the counter.

"Do your parents know you're here?"

"Yes, when I tried to call Kyle to fetch me late last night after you had fallen asleep, my parents insisted I spend the night."

"I hope they only allow that with me, and not all of your guy friends."

"Only you, Jake. It's not like I have any other guy friends."

"Good. Your parents love me."

"You have no idea."

We both burst out laughing, until we were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. 

"Could it be Kyle?" I asked.

Dylan shrugged. "I don't think he's awake just yet."

I went to answer the door. Shit. It's Farrah. Dylan raised an eyebrow at me in question.

I opened the door, sweating a little. Farrah slipped insideand quickly removed her wool scarf and leather parka. Apparently, she was in tiny denim shorts and a designer blouse which exposed far too much skin, but somehow she made it look classy and not trashy. She probably figured, her clothes didn't matter since they would all soon be on the floor anyway. She was typing furiously on her phone with huge aviators covering her eyes. I kept my eyes on Farrah, unable to look at Dylan, but I can imagine just what she was thinking. Who wears aviators and mini shorts during winter?