Seventy nine - Dylan O'Brien (completed)

T e n

I sat reading a classic 'a streetcar named desire' while Dylan spoke quietly on the phone with his parents for the first time since the accident. Of course they had actually been to see him a bunch of times of course, their meeting going much like ours, slow and steady with not too much pressure put on him because to him, we were all strangers.

However this was the first phone call since they found out, as had I, that Dylan had only seventy nine hours to recover his memories before they were deemed lost forever.

"Yeah, I'll call back tomorrow, I promise," they seemed hesitant for him to hang up but eventually after numerous farewells and many promises he'll call tomorrow he managed to get off the phone, "Wow, I literally thought that call would never end,"

"Aw is Dyl all embarrassed by his mother's affection," I teased nudging him gently, "She's sweet,"

"Yeah a little, I guess. Do you know if she's always that loving and that?" He chuckled lightly; not really bothered by his mothers attention.

"She is but that's because you're a mommas boy," I laughed, Dylan loved his mother. He cherished the ground she walked on and admired her strength and courage.

"Oh god," he groaned, throwing his head back on the cushions, "Does that means there's an embarrassingly large collection of photos and home videos of me being a goofball?"

"For me to know and you to never find out ha-ha!" I closed my book, finding no use in reading it now because I'd only read without actually paying attention or taking any of the words in, resorting in me having to read the entire chapter again when I realise I've got no genuine idea of what is happening.

I began absentmindedly running my finger over the various scribbles and doodles on the tattered cover, catching Dylan's attention as I did so, "Whats the artistry about?"

I looked up at Dylan quickly, a knowing grin on my face as I realised this was something he'd enjoy hearing, "Oh please tell me there's a story behind it?"

"Wanna hear it?"

•

I sat doodling on the cover of my copy of a streetcar named desire, a book that we were analysing for our midterm English literature assignment. I waited patiently for one, the tardy bell to finally ring and two for the sub who we supposedly had covering today's class to actually show up.

I guess even teachers like to play chicken with the tardy bell.

I was so busy scribbling away on the inside cover of my novel that I hadn't even taken notice of the now vacated seat next to me.

Something that's never happened before because people tend to ignore the girl that rarely speaks.

"So I'm gonna say $5 the sub makes it before second bell," a voice I had heard not not even twenty minutes ago spoke. Looking up I was greeted with the smug grin of Dylan O'Brien who seemed pretty impressed he had remembered my comment about conversations being two way once again.

"You've got yourself a deal O'Brien," I laughed reaching out to shake his outstretched hand.

Then the bell rang.

"Ahh fuck it-" he groaned.

"I'm sorry guys, couldn't for the life of me find the room but never mind that, now I'm here so let's begin," I chuckled silently at his flustered state and his shirt that was all untucked and crinkled.

"Firstly though before we recap from where I'm told you finished off yesterday, for those of you who take music I have a message from Mr Pointers, he has given me your midterm assignment and it will count for 60% of your final grade. Now let me see, ahh yes. You're to perform a duet that reflects emotion from a personal experience, your partners have been picked already so listen up,"

He rummaged around looking for the partnered listings in a rush and beamed widely as he found the now crumbled sheet of paper, "Right Emily Hawkson and Jeremy Neson, Henry Worthington and Anna Hopkirk, Dylan O'Brien and Lola Rose. Now moving on..."

My attention was snapped away from the substitute teacher as Dylan nudged me in the side gently, "Well you'd better get comfortable talking to me more often Lo," he giggled.

"Lo?" I struggled to hold back a chuckle and cocked an eyebrow at the boy beside me questioning the new name.

"Yes that's your new nickname. I've given you a nickname so deal with it lady," he retorted sticking his tongue out at me before turning his attention back to his annotated notes.

But I couldn't concentrate, I've never been given a nickname before.

Lo, that's not half bad, I thought to myself. I kinda like it.

I spent the rest of the class mindlessly scrawling on my copy of the book I loved so much. When Dylan pulled out a pencil and joined in, I didn't argue with it. He drew little Star Wars stick figures and cartoon emojis and I drew various band logos and mythical creatures.

Since then I've kept the book with me everyday. Added to the decorative art cover whenever I've felt inspired and read it cover to cover probably a million times.

It's my favourite book now more than ever.

•

"That's such a cute story, I'm still convinced they're a couple though. Now more than ever, so how did you get hold of the book? Close to the girl?" He turned his body to face mine, his brown eyes bore into mine, his entire body, mind and spirit hooked into the story.

"Yeah, something like that Dyl, something like that,"