The New Student

Chapter 32

Naomi's POV

It's been a few days since I confessed my love to Dylan for like the hundredth time. I never thought I'd be the one to ever say something like that and mean it... it almost felt like a need more than a want.

And ever since then, it's like we've been inseparable. We never wanted to be away from each other, and its been harder to keep our hands off each other as crazy at it sounds. He's been patient with me, knowing I'm still grieving over my mother; which I really appreciate him for. I know that he can relate with me more than anyone, even more than me in fact.

But I've never felt more blessed to have him in my life. Even when I push him away, he never stops coming back. He's comforted me through everything. He even went as far as to have a funeral set up for my mother, which I couldn't thank him enough for. He asked who I wanted to be there, if I wanted it big or small, and all the important details.

I never knew I could fall in love with such an angel, even if they think their the opposite. I told him I wanted it small, and that I only wanted it to be me, him, AJ, and some of my mom's side. I did have other family, but let's just say they didn't get along. They never really came to America, only except for Christmas. And separately as well, never at the same time.

They don't have the best chemistry. With my dad's side of the family, they always stayed in Nigeria. They never even dreamed about coming to America. They were very traditional, so when my dad left Africa to start a career in America, they strongly disapproved. Apparently, it was the complete opposite with my mom's side. They wanted her to embrace her passions, just as long as she kept in contact and made the right decisions.

So when my parents met and soon fell for each other, my mom's side was overjoyed. But my dad's side wanted nothing to do with the idea of them together. They wanted my father to marry someone from Nigeria, in Nigeria. Even though they are of the same race, they didn't think it was right to marry a so called 'foreigner'. Continued on saying it 'messed up the bloodline of generations to come'.

So once my mom's family found out about their views, they refused to meet them. They didn't want to meet the side of a family that didn't want their child to marry the other because of different ethnicity. My mom's family was all for tradition but not if it kept those from doing what they wanted. They loved spicing it up. That's why I knew my mom would've loved Dylan.

With how kind and respectful he is, I knew she would love him just as much as I do. I wish she got the chance to meet him. Well she kinda of did. They never met but, I knew she knew of him. But probably not in the best way, since the last time she saw me with Dylan was when I was yelling at him like crazy.

I knew she was happy where she was now. As much as I missed her, I'm glad she's no longer in this cruel place we call Earth.

After the funeral preparations were in order, I texted all of my mom's side of the family. I was planning on calling them but, I knew it would be too hard, even harder if I started hearing my grandparents balling on the other side of the phone.

I was almost scared to answer calls now. Scared of hearing the phone even ring. After I heard my mom getting shot over the phone, I can barely even pick one up anymore. I try, I truly do. I never really believed in PTSD to a certain extent until now. It's not how I thought it would be.

Having to have nightmares about it every night as I sleep only to wake up and start to rethink the whole entire thing like a movie scene just from taking a simple glance at me phone-

It's killing me.

I was currently training in the basement of Dylan's house. It seems like training and working out is the only thing keeping my mind off of what I truly need to confront. But I wasn't ready yet. And I don't think I ever will be.

Sweat was dripping down my face as I punched the punching bag with brute force, letting nothing distract me. Dylan says I'm getting proficient, not that I wasn't bad already.

I know that he knows. I know that he knows that I'm avoiding what I really need to confront. But I also know that he knows I'm not ready yet, and I'll let him know when I am.

I was so focused on training, I didn't hear Dylan coming up from behind me until I felt big strong hands wrap around my waist. Dylan puts his head in the crevice of my neck and let's some of his weight fall on me.

"Long day?" I ask, already knowing his answer.

"Mhmm." he groans out.

"Well, I think you'll feel better if we go shower, then grab some snacks, and go watch The Goonies. How bout that?" I ask him with a small smile. Turns out, The Goonies is both our favorite movie.

"That sounds fantastic, but..." Dylan trails off.

"What?" I question.

"We should eat real food instead of snacks." Dylan says as he raises his head up. I was facing him now. I stare into his green eyes while his hands still lay on my waist. Mine are still gloved and are wrapped around his neck. But hearing his words, I bring them down to my side.

"Snacks are real food though." I retort.

"I'm not sure about you, but I'm starving." he breaths out, ignoring my remark. I roll my eyes and turn around, facing the punching back once more.

"Are you really?" I say as I start to resume punching the firm sand-filled bag.

"I am, actually. And hey," he says as he grabs my wrist before I could throw another punch and turns me around.

"I see what you're trying to do and I'm not letting it slide." he says with a serious tone, eyebrows furrowed.

"What are you talking about?" I say raising an eyebrow, not really in the mood to have this conversation.

"You're not eating. You've lost weight. You think I wouldn't notice?" he let's out. This makes me roll my eyes farther than ever as I begin to undo my gloves.

"I've lost a couple of pounds. So what?" I shrug.

"You can't keep starving yourself because of what's going on. It's not going to help, only make you get sick and weak." he tells me. I begin to walk off towards the door of the training room, making sure to put my gloves away beforehand.

"What makes you think I'm starving myself?" I question. When I say this, Dylan gives me a 'Are you serious?' and 'Really?' look.

"You decline food every time I offer it to you and whenever I come home, it's either you're training or you're snacking. But never have I seen you eat a full meal. And whenever I want to eat dinner with you, you claim to have already eaten." Dylan explains with a frustrated tone.

"I'm just not as hungry." I say more to myself than him.

"But that's only the half truth isn't it?" he says, seeing straight through my words.

He was clearly upset and concerned. I could see it clear on his face. I breath out a sigh, knowing I couldn't keep avoiding the subject.

"I just............I can't keep food down, alright?!" I shout in annoyance and frustration. Tears begin to well in my eyes. I've been more emotional ever since my mom died and it didn't seem like these emotions were going away anytime soon. Dylan's faced plastered slight shock but was quickly covered with an empathetic look. He came up to me, taking my hands in his.

"Baby, I understand you. I couldn't keep anything down either after my mom and sister passed away. I lost over 10 pounds just because I couldn't eat," he empathized with me.

When I'm alone, I always think that no one will understand the pain I feel. But then Dylan comes and he reminds met that I'm not alone, even when I am. Our hand embrace each other as I stare deeply into his eyes.

"I know how you feel more than anyone else right now." he continues. I didn't realize I was crying till Dylan lifts his hand and wipes a tear from my eye, bringing my head that I didn't realize I lowered up as well.

"I need you." I say quietly out of the blue, letting my head fall to his shoulder.

"And I you. I will never leave your side. I promise." he whispers quietly in my ear.

Hopefully he can keep that promise. But I had a feeling, good moments like these don't last forever.