Parallels | Dylan O'Brien

15 - Teach Me

New York 
-Lydia Moon-

The next morning doesn't feel much different from the morning before. A wave of sadness and pain washes over me as I try to get up from my bed. My eyes go over the bruises on my arms as my mind drifts off to the memories of last night. I only give it a few seconds before shaking them off. I can't let it consume me. I will not let it consume me. Instead, I reach for my phone to see a text I had received at ten am this morning.

From Dylan: Are you coming over today? x

The sadness and the pain all wash away with a simple text and gets replaced with a rushing wave of happiness. This boy can make me smile within a second. Whether it's a simple text, a call, or just being with him. He makes me happy and he doesn't even know it. I adjust myself on the bed and start typing a reply.

To Dylan: Yes. xx

A simple, but very effective reply. When the text bubble shows up in the conversation, I glance at the time. It's nearly one pm. How did I sleep past noon? I didn't even go to bed that late. When I came home after my date with Dylan, I went straight to bed. That is if you forget the screaming, the shoving and hitting, and the crying afterwards. I shake my head again, trying to get the images out of my brain. I have to get ready to go to Dylan's. Secretly, I'm hoping my 'parents' are gone. That I don't have to see them today. I'd even pray to God I wouldn't have to see them today, and I'm not even Christian. I get out of bed and start getting ready. What shall I wear today? I open the enourmous closet I'm starting to get accustomed to. Skirt, no. Dress, no. Shorts! Yes.
"Red shorts with...." I mumble to myself whilst browsing the top part of the closet. "This looks pretty," I say to a sheer black top with flowers emprinted on it. I grab a plain black tank top to put over it as I'm not a fan of the nipple-trend. The buzzing of my phone on my nightstand distracts me. So, with the clothes still in my arms, I walk over to see the message and hope it's from Dylan.

From Dylan

I sigh in relief when I see his name on my screen, it makes me drop the clothes on my bed and grab the phone with both hands. I enter my passcode -I changed it to my old one- and read the message.

Posey and Arden are over for band practice. U can come and listen tho, if u want. Or hang out with Jules and Sky until we're done xx

I pout, thinking about the possibilities. Anything is better than here, right? Right. I nod at my own decision before getting back to the message.

To Dylan: I'm coming, I'll see what I'll do when I'm there ;) xx

I put my phone back on the table before grabbing my clothes again and putting them on. For once, I actually feel like wearing heels, so I pick a pair of black pumps out of the closet and put them on my feet. It feels a little weird at first, but after taking a few steps, I'm already used to them again. After doing my makeup and hair, and adding some jewelry to the outfit, I carefully make my way downstairs. I clutch my phone in my hand as I try to concentrate my hearing, nearly feeling like Scott in Teen Wolf. I chuckle at the thought and take the last few steps with confidence, knowing they're not here.
"Are you all right, miss Moon?" a delicate woman's voice sound through the living room. My head whips into her direction, seeing a young woman I've seen before. It was only like yesterday I saw her last. And that time, I didn't see her wearing an apron or holding a duster. Her strawberry blonde hair resembled mine and her lips were plump. If you didn't know any better, you'd say we're sisters.
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine," I reply, trying to take on my act as Lydia Moon from this universe.
"Are you sneaking off to your boyfriend again?" she questions with a smirk. I furrow my eyebrows. How does she know? "I saw you sneak out last night too and I heard your conversation over the phone with him a couple days ago. You can't tell me you're not in love with him," I feel a slight blush creep on my cheeks.
"I'm not in love with him," I tell her, not entirely sure if I'm lying or not.
"Sure," the girl I know as Holland replies and continues to dust the cupboard. As her arm rises, the sleeve of her shirt rises too, a giant bruise appearing on her fair skin. I gasp slightly.
"Do they do that to you too?" I ask without thinking twice. Holland looks at me with her widened emerald green eyes. She looks like she was busted. "Holland, please don't tell me they do this to you too?" I walk closer to her and try to grab her arm, but she pulls away.
"Holland? You never call me that," she whispers, but I hear the confusion in her voice, "Please, don't tell anyone. This is my only source of income for my college funds. I really need this money and your parents pay well." I open my mouth to say something, but the words are lacking from my brain. "Please, miss Moon," her voice fails as the words come out. If I'd tell someone, I'd have to tell them they hurt me too.
"Fine, I won't say anything. On one condition," I stop for a moment and look at her. Her eyes are wide, pleading, almost. "Call me Lydia instead of miss Moon," I can't help but notice the little smile forming on her face. It's like she hadn't expected that. She probably hasn't. She's probably wondering what the hell happened to the Lydia she knew, and so do I, to be honest. "And don't tell my parents I'm at my boyfriend's," I say, the word 'boyfriend' slipping from my mouth without me wanting it to.
"I'll tell them you're at Julia's. That's not even that big of a lie," she shrugs and continues to work. I want to ask her how she knows it's Dylan, but I don't want to waste any more time.