Disappeared [ Dylan Sprayberry Fanfic ]

Chapter 16

Daniel's POV
The snow reminded me of my sister the most. Jade loved it. The cold, Christmas, hot cocoa, the snowmen, snow angels, the quiet right after a blizzard--she was a little snow bunny.
I smiled, as I looked out the hospital window, watching the snow fall silently--it wasn't so bad now. Though it was kind of cheesy, somewhere in my heart I'd always believed Jade was making it snow like that. I was far off from truly being better, but now I knew I would eventually let go of all the baggage I've been carrying around for so long.

I tugged a Blood on the Dance Floor hoodie over my head, and walked over to the mirror someone had brought in from home. They were giving me special permission to leave for a day--today being Thanksgiving, I was going over to Bridget's  house. I leaned into the mirror, and pulled my lower the lip forward and stuck each of the silver rings into their holes. I just got my lips pierced and I didn't want them to heal so quickly.

"Tumblr Boy! Tumblr Boy! I see you got your lips pierced!" Bridget teased, pinching my cheeks. I laughed, and she grinned in that cute little amused way she does. People strode by shooting the same sideways what-weapon-is-he-carrying looks in my direction, and then shaking their head disappointedly at  Bridget.
"Hey," I said uncomfortably, fidgeting with my rubber bracelets,
"Do you think its weird...how I dress? Aren't you embarrassed to be seen with me?" Bridget scrunched her eyebrows, "What do you mean?"
"You don't notice?" It was hard to believe, it was everywhere we went.
"I do, I just don't care...I mean," She shrugged, flipping back a strand of brown hair and swinging her legs over the edge of the boardwalk,
"You're a cool guy and personally, I think it'd be strange if you didn't dress the way you do. Though, my opinion doesn't matter much." Little did she know, her opinion meant the world to me.
"Strange?" I looked at the blue sky, it always seemed to smile when Bridget smiled.
"The tattoo's, the piercings, the hair--its you, Daniel. And I love that about you. Nothing bothers you." She bumped my shoulder playfully, and I looked into her chocolate brown eyes, bright and soothing. I grinned, unable to help myself,
"So you think I'm cool, now?" Bridget smiled back,
"Yup."

That was when Bridget hadn't been going out with Dylan just yet--when she wasn't so down, and I wasn't so desperate. Thinking of Bridget like this always brought on the memories of kissing her. I still couldn't believe that it'd happened, this whole thing--the cuts, the blood, the tears, the kiss--it all seemed so surreal. I ran my fingers over my lips, a giddy smile plastered on my face. By the way Bridget looked when she walked in the other day, I knew she was nervous--probably didn't know how to act, so I pretended it never happened. I didn't want too pretend anymore--I didn't want to hide my feelings for convenience sake...
I shook my head, I needed to talk to her about it. It was inevitable.

I pulled into the Holt's driveway, and kind of just sat there for a couple minutes. Taking in slow deep breaths, I readied myself for the possible catastrophe I may cause. I couldn't control what came out of my mouth from here. I hopped out of the truck and sauntered up to the front door. It opened before I'd even begun to knock it, Olivia stood there, grinning from ear to ear in a red and white floral dress, little rose ribbons pinned in her dark hair.
"You have the rings in your ears again!" She exclaimed, grabbing hold of my hand and pulling me inside. The house smelled like Thanksgiving, turkey and cinnamon. I've always spent Thanksgiving alone, fixing ramen or Kraft mac & cheese if I'm lucky, I guess you could say I didn't have much to be thankful for, until now.
I scanned the living room, subconsciously looking for Bridget.
"Bridgy's upstairs, I think." Olivia said, leading me into the kitchen.  You couldn't even see the counter, the turkey sat in the middle of it all, green beans, stuffing with gravy, mashed potatoes, deviled eggs, what looked like homemade macaroni and cheese, corn on the cob, pumpkin pie, chocolate cake--I felt fat just looking at it. And that's coming from a guy.
Mrs. Holt stood by the oven, obsessively skittering around dashing salt here, sugar there. She looked up and smiled widely,
"Good to see you, Daniel. Happy Thanksgiving."
"Good to be here. Happy Thanksgiving." I smiled back, and let Olivia pull me over to a kid-sized table.