Mess To Be Made

63

"Allie?"

Slumped against the hallway wall, as Tyler spoke with his mom inside my bedroom, I was surprised to hear Dean's voice on the line. Honestly shocked that he picked up. "You-wait, you have my number?"

He snorted, the clashing of cymbals and cracking of drums dulling until the vibrating music in the background sounded muted. "Of course I have your number."

I exhaled deeply, my back slipped down until I landed with a thud on the carpet floor of my hallway. I had quite a few questions running through my mind, but really only one thing mattered. And he was the only one who could answer it. Or even remotely begin to understand. "He's talking to his mom."

"Hi to you too." I didn't know Dean well, having only even met him once. But that one time was all I needed to recall on to know he was taunting me.

"Hi," I overexaggerated my drawl.

His chuckle barely overpowered the clicking sound of a lighter. "You were saying?"

I swallowed, then stuttered, "I-he, um, he wants me to talk to her."

"I know."

"You know?"

"Of course I know." His voice was laced with a smirk, followed by a dramatic exhale. "Look, just fucking talk to her."

My hesitant pause was deafening, and Dean registered it quickly, letting out another breath-one heavy enough that I could hear the weight he was releasing through the phone. "Okay. Why Tyler?"

I stilled, my breath halting before I coughed out, "Huh?"

"I asked you this same question months ago- Why Tyler?"

Our first date.

"Do you remember what you said?"

I shook my head, wracking my brain before murmuring, "No."

"You said, 'He sees me.'"

My lungs plummeted into the bottom of my stomach, making it difficult to even try to breathe. I barely gasped out a desperate, "Well yeah, he's good at that. You know, seeing... everything."

Because, fuck, Tyler had seen more in his eighteen years on this planet than most would in eighty. He'd been through shit I still couldn't fully wrap my head around.

"He has. He's seen a lot," Dean agreed, his voice soft.

A moment of silence slipped between us before Dean smothered it with a firm voice that echoed in my ear.

"And you, Allie, you are what he wants to look at."

So when Tyler exited my room, his cellphone extended to me while he wore an understanding, encouraging smile, I wasn't quite as afraid.

I was nervous, naturally. But not as terrified as I had been before I'd called Dean.

He's seen a lot. But you're what he wants to look at.

Without thinking twice, I tugged on Tyler's shirt, pulling him down to press a swift peck across his lips before snatching his phone and walking into my room. Closing the door behind me and releasing a much-needed breath.

And then, with a rush of confidence I wasn't quite sure I genuinely possessed, I pressed the phone against my ear and said, "Tina?"

"Allie."