Right There || Dylan O'Brien

chapter seven; 1/2

Days flew by. Hours, minutes, seconds. It was like Dylan was spending too much time by painting his apartment that he didn't even think about seeing Clara again and finally introducing her to his friends. But when he did, time went much slower.

Not only he checked his phone for the clock, but also for text messages from her. Every freaking minute.

He was getting out of his mind. The apartment was what he had to think about; He really wanted it to be done, so he could move in and relax. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon if he didn't stop thinking about Clara.

He needed to set her out of his head and fast.

"Alright, Dylan," he cheered himself, dipping the brush into the can of paint. "Get it together. You need to get your shit together. You want your own place, work for it."

Then his phone started ringing, Dylan was too hopeful for it to be Clara that he didn't even look at the caller I.D before he picked up. "Hey, Clara. What's up?"

An overly fake high voice was heard on the other end of the line. Obviously it was Tyler. "Yes, Dylan. It's me. Hi. I'm just calling to tell you..." he went right over to his own voice. "What the hell is wrong with you, man? You like this girl, do something about it."

"I've got my apartment-..."

"Shut up." If he didn't know better, he would have thought he was irritated, maybe angry, but Tyler was just trying to encourage him. "I'm coming over with beer. I'll help you with painting and we could talk about the Clara thing."

"Alright."

They hung up without saying goodbye.

----

10 minutes later, Tyler walked in, setting the cans with beer on the table with a proud face. "Wow, man. Look how far it's gotten!"

"I told you, I've been busy and I don't want to get distracted. Even if it's Clara."

"Yeah, about that," he grabbed a brush, dipping it in the paint. "When your apartment is done, you should ask her to come over for dinner. She'd like that."

"You think so?"

"I'm sure she would," he promised his friend, starting to help him with the wall. "Make sure to ask her what's her favorite food and dessert is so you could make it for her."

"Well, I'm not that great of a cook."

"Neither am I," he laughed, then shrugged his shoulders. "You know, love comes from the heart but passes through the stomach. Well, that's what Seana says."

"When's the wedding?"

"In the fall," his smile grew big, thinking about last summer when he proposed. You should've seen her reaction, so adorable and sweet and ugh, he was so happy with her. "We don't have a date yet or place, but we'll figure it out."

"All you know is that I'm going to be your best man, right?' Dylan chuckled, and although he was just joking he felt Tyler's hand on his shoulder.

"Only if you want to, buddy."

"Of course I want to, Pose." He looked at his friend, "this is going to be your day. I'll do whatever."

All of the sudden he felt a buzz in his pocket, which made him grasp for his phone directly. It was a text from Clara. It was like he forgot everything around him. He didn't hear Tyler ask what it was, he didn't smell the paint...

All he could think about what he just read. He became disappointed, worried, upset and confused.

'I can't come Wednesday. I'm sorry.' That was it, nothing else. No explanation. No nothing.