You Saved Me

CHAPTER 7: MORE THAN FRIENDS?

"Wow." I whispered as Dylan pulled away, our faces only inches apart. "Wow." He whispered back. I couldn't help but smile.

"I would understand if you thought I made a mistake. I know I tried to kiss you the night of the party and you weren't ready and I'm not trying to rush things and-" I cut him off, "Dylan, I wouldn't have said you could kiss me if I didn't want you to. Frankly, I don't completely understand why you would want to kiss me but I'm glad it happened."

"Why don't you understand why I wanted to kiss you?" He asked.

"Because I'm nothing special. No model, like your ex-girlfriend, who by the way is totally gorgeous. I have no talent. I'm average. I'm like not even average. I'm just a filler. I'm here so the world isn't naked. Fillers like me are important to society, but certainly not deserving of people like you." I smiled even though I felt like a total idiot.

Dylan lifted my chin gently, his amber orbs staring into mine. "You're not average. You're different. Im tired of originality." He smirked.

"You can tell me that as many times as you want but you better believe nothing you can say will change the way I feel about myself. Nothing." I turned from him and lay on my side.

"Why do you hate yourself so much?"

"It's a long, depressing story." I turned back to him.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere." Dylan brushed the stray hair away from my cheek.

"Well you know those Nicholas Sparks books about the innocent girl and the super hot popular guy who ends up being a total asshole and eventually she finds like the perfect guy?" He nodded. "Okay well I was the innocent girl and my ex-boyfriend was the super hot popular guy who ends up being a total asshole. Jacob Parker was and will always will be the totally conniving, mischievous, asshole."

"Okay but that doesn't really answer my question." Dylan laughed.

"Okay but I never said I was done telling the story Mr. O'brien." He looked defeated. "Anyways, as I was saying, Jacob was the captain of the baseball team and he was super hot and nice and then came the wild Saturday night extravaganzas."

"Oh those never end well." He joked.

"Exactly my point. When he drank he got sloppy and mean. He called me his 'bitch,' said I was ugly, and sometimes he got physical. That's why I feel bad about myself. That's why I got frustrated at Ariana at the party. That's why I moved. There, ya happy?"

"No. I'm so sorry. Damn. I'm. Sorry." He kissed my hand.

"It is what it is. I'm just worried that someday it will happen again."

"I will make sure that doesn't happen. Okay?"

~

Two nights later

---Dreaming---

I'm standing in a city, New York maybe. Thick fog surrounds me, no one is near. The only visible thing is a sign for a book store. I walk closer and see a book titled, "Runaway by Ryan Summers."

"Very insightful book, don't ya think?" A voice emerges from behind me. It's Jacob.

"What?" I move closer to the book store, my eyes still on the book, but my mind fixed on Jacob behind me. "Well, when you moved, I went to your house. Everything was gone, except for a diary. I figured, 'wow, maybe Ryan left me some love letters, shit was I wrong." I felt him close to me, his hand on my shoulder, and his warm breath on my neck. "What are you even talking about?" I asked jerking my head away from him.

"Ryan, I always knew you were a writer, but god damn this book is cold." He pulled me back by the wrist and pushed me against the window, my head bouncing off the frigid glass. "I saw you had your diary published. All your secrets are out, Ryan. All of them." I could smell the "Jack Daniels" in his breath. He grabbed my face and bounced my head on the glass one final time. "I can't believe you told everyone that I abused you. I obviously had that coming though." Spit flew from his mouth. "You're a best seller, Ryan. And a clever little cheat." He smirked, a malevolent smirk and walked away. "When I'm found, I'm going to prison, but first, I'm coming for you." He yelled from the window of a black SUV, and disappeared into the thick, wet, misty, fog.

---Awake---

I thrust my head from my pillow, breathless. I panicked and check the box under my bed. One. Two. Three. Four journals. I had written five.

Oh my god.