Parallels | Dylan O'Brien

19 - The First Time

New York -Lydia Moon-

You know, all I've ever wanted ever since the whole thing in Sophomore year in high school, is to become a successful wedding planner and have a couple of kids with the person I love more than anything else in the world. I wanted to spite every single person who had ever said anything bad about me. I wanted to become that person they'd bump into in a coffeeshop and we'd start the whole "oh, how have you been?" kind of thing when suddenly my ad comes on the radio for my business and then my husband would join me with the kids and they'd be dumbfounded. They'd be so shocked at how great I did in life that they'd be jealous.
But lying here with Dylan right now, makes me realize all I want is to become happy. With him. I don't want to spite any of my old school friends. I just want to do me. With him. But then again, I wouldn't care either if it were the other Dylan in the other universe. I really need to figure out what I want. Or what version I want. Do I want to stay here with a caring and fun-loving Dylan in a universe my stepdad hurts me? Or do I want to go back to the universe I know where I'm an intern at my uncle's business and have a Dylan who doesn't even really acknowledge me?
I hoist myself up carefully not to wake him and support my upper body with my arm. He looks so adorable and peaceful. My finger goes over the moles scattered on his cheek. He jumps a little, his hand reaching up to grab mine carefully, and his eyes opening slowly.
"Morning," I say softly, a smile appearing on my face without me actually wanting to.
"Good morning, sunshine," he says back, his voice raspy and thick with sleep. He presses his lips on my knuckles and for a second, just a second, I feel like I'm in bed with the other Dylan and everything is all right. I shake my head, trying to get the thought out of my head and back to reality. The boy next to me frowns as he brushes his lips against my hand.
"What is it?" he asks, worry filling his voice.
"Nothing," I shake my head, "Just thinking about something." I secretly hope he'll drop it, but it's Dylan, he'll never drop something like that.
"About what?" I lick my lips and think about what to tell him. The truth? Or something completely random? I should probably tell him the truth. I sit up a little more, taking my hand away from supporting my upper body, and sitting crossed-legged.
"For a split second, I just-I thought I was in my own universe and you were actually the other version," I frown a little and shake my head again while a chuckle leaves my lips. I don't even dare to look at him, too scared of the reaction he'll give me.
"Oh, really?" he asks, dropping my hand and sitting up against the headboard.
"Yeah, I don't- I don't exactly know why though. I'm sorry," I mumble, now looking up at him. He doesn't really give me a reaction. His face is blank. Normally, I'd be able to read his face, but right now, I just can't.
"No, it's okay," he whispers, reaching for my hand again, "I guess it's normal, you know? You're - You're kind of used to that Dylan and you've been here for what - a week and half- of course you're going to get confused about who's who and stuff..." he rambles, and I can't help but smile, "What?" he asks, now smiling a little too.
"You're cute,"
"Wh-I didn't even do anything?" he questions, licking his lips and glancing down at my lips absent mindedly. Instead of responding to his question, which I wanted to do at first, I just lean in and kiss him. Even though I still don't know what exactly it is I want, I know I just have to make the most of it until I do.

I had gone home after breakfast and watching a couple episodes of New Girl. Holland is working again today, I think, and when I enter the house, my thoughts are proved right. She's mopping the kitchen floor like her life depends on it. Her hair is pulled up into a pony tail and little droplets of sweat are dripping down her forehead.
"Hey, Holland," I greet, making her jump a little. She wipes her forehead a little as she smiles and pants. It's like she's run a marathon. "How are you doing today?" I ask, leaning against the doorframe. I really want a drink, but I don't want to mess up her work.
"Good, fine. How was your date?" she asks and continues to mop the floor. I take a step forward and grab the broom to stop her from working. She looks up at me, scared, like a deer caught in headlights. I'm almost certain my stepdad has to do something with this.
"Do you want to hear about it?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.
"I do, but I kind of need to work," she tells me and wants to continue, hoping I'd let go of the broom. I don't.
"I think you deserve a break," I tell her sternly. We look each other in the eyes as if we're about to fight. I don't think she'd give in, but then she sighs in defeat, and lets go of the broom.
"Fine," she whispers, and I swear I can see a little smile appearing on her face. She walks towards the cupboard to grab two glasses and then stops at the fridge for some juice before walking over to me. I leave the broom for what it is and follow Holland to the dining area where we sit down to have a drink. I tell her about the date I thought we were going to have, and about the city lights. I tell her about how we fell asleep together and how we woke up. Every word I say, she listens. Sometimes, her face randomly lights up when I talk about something cute Dylan has said or done, and for once, I actually feel listened to. Not that Dylan doesn't. I'm not talking about him. I'm talking about Justin and Dylan from my universe. They never really listened. Not that I talked to Dylan outside college parties, but you know.
"You're so in love with him," Holland mumbles when I'm done talking.
"What? No," I shake my head, furrowing my eyebrows.
"Yeah, you are. Look at yourself, Lydia. You're glowing and shining when you talk about him!" she suddenly leans in as if she's about to tell a secret, "Have you guys had sex yet?"
"No! We're not in that place yet. Gee, Holl. We've just been on our second date!" Holland shrugs.
"I had sex on my first date sometimes. I think you should do it, tonight," I stare at the girl for a moment. Is she serious? Yeah, she's serious. Maybe... Possibly... Do I want to? The image of Dylan taking his clothes off and throwing me onto the bed makes the answer very clear. I do. But I kind of don't. What if he doesn't want to? What if he's not the same as the other Dylan -yes, I've had sex with the other one at a party. Twice. What if it makes everything different and awkward like in that movie he made in my universe with Britt? I want to though. It's been so long since I last had sex. It's been such a long time. I've got an itch to scratch.