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~Uploaded May 22nd, 2014
I think I'm losing it.
It's all I've been thinking about for the past day. And if it wasn't my main focus at one specific moment, it was always lurking somewhere in an unseen corner of my mind, never completely leaving me. And when I thought it had left me for good, poof! There it was again. Like a freaking weed. Its meaning has been driving me up and down the walls non-stop.
'You look nice.'
Those three little words were enough to make me wonder, over think, and backtrack every thought I've ever had about Dylan.
Okay, so maybe he didn't hate me, and maybe he was even starting to like me a bit as a friend. Maybe he was just being nice. I mean, I had looked pretty good if I do say so myself.
But had there been some ulterior meaning behind his words? A sort of double entendre? Maybe he had been feeling snide and decided to see if I was dumb enough to believe him? But he didn't seem to be the kind of guy that would do that to a girl after apologizing so many times just to get a second chance at being friends.
What made him change his mind about that anyways? What made him want to become friends, instead of, well, not?
I remembered that it started after our first paintball practice, when my plan, which wasn't even an original, had managed to scare away Luke's team. Dylan had looked at me like he was both glad I was on his side, and that my plan had worked. Now that I gave it some good thought, it was pretty obvious, and that saddened me and made me feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.
Dylan only wanted to be closer friends with me so that he could get in on my secrets for good attack plans. Making me co-captain and the compliment was probably just insurance. After learning of another attack plan, he'd probably ditch me, like he wanted to in the beginning.
Or maybe... He planned on keeping me around so that I wouldn't go to Luke's team instead? That way, none of my plans would fall into the Scorpions' hands.
Or maybe he'd only leave me once our team won the cup? That was the only reason he tolerated me anyways, because he knew I was a big help to the team.
And then there was the slim possibility that he really did want to be friends. Like friends friends, not barely-being-able-to-tolerate-me friends. Or were we still at "friendly acquaintances"?
Ah! Stupid freaking "maybe". That word will be the death of me.
Something small, but nonetheless painful, hit me in the shoulder and I stumbled a step back. Forcefully, I was yanked out of my thoughts, and back to reality.
We were in the middle of another paintball practice working on our snap shooting, popping out from around corners of obstacles, firing at someone, then taking cover again.
What a time to zone out. Because I had allowed one small thought to penetrate my mind, a sudden avalanche followed it, and I had allowed myself to be hit in the shoulder.
"Dani, focus!", I think it was Andie who called out from somewhere nearby. "Evan's about to run for it!" I quickly popped out from behind the tree I was using as cover, fired two quick shots at Evan, that both nailed him in the leg, then returned to flatten myself low against the trunk.
We had switched up the teams again; Andie, Nolan, Garrett and I were on one team, and Dylan, Evan, Brody and Teddy were on the other. I didn't know why Mr. Tanner had insisted on keeping Dylan and I on separate teams. We were co-captains, yet we hardly worked together. Not that I was complaining. It was more fun to fire at Dylan anyways.
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