Just Do It (TannerBraungardtxDylanMitchell)

8: To Run Away

Dylan was was the poster boy of jealousy. Quentin knew it, too. He saw the way he glared at Paris with that evil glint of jealousy, which was new. After all these years, Quentin had memorized every facial expression of Dylan's (he only had like five different faces) and today, he saw a new one and he just knew something happened in California. He could tell the balance of their trio had shifted and was on the verge of toppling over.

That bitchy blonde ruined it all. She was back, with a triumphant grin, and clingier than ever. Quentin lay back on a bean bag next to Dylan, choking back a laugh. The silent battle fought with dagger eyes between Dylan and Paris was amusing as a bystander.

Paris spoke in a voice full of fake innocence. "Tanner, I want to be alone."

She fluttered her eyelashes and Tanner was all too quick to kick his friends out of his room. Dylan felt betrayed. He followed Quentin to the basement kitchen with a pout on his lips.

Quentin dug through the cupboards in search of a snack, eventually pulling out a package off little Debbie cupcakes. He smirked when he saw Dylan leaned against the island counter, arms crossed and scowling at the floor.

"What's up with you?"

Dylan looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Nothing! Why?"

"Dude, you've been acting like a baby since Paris came over."

"I can't tell you."

Quentin's eyes rolled as he stuffed a cupcake into his mouth. Dylan couldn't keep a secret. He knew it was only a matter of time before he spilled his guts. He was surprised when he made it two whole ping pong games and a game of pool without saying a word. Dylan could be stubborn when he wanted to be, but he also sucked at keeping his feelings to himself.

"I can trust you, right? Like, with anything?"

Quentin nodded in reply, eager to hear his friend's problems. Dylan swallowed the nerves and spoke.

"Okay, so I fucking hate Paris."

"No shit."

"No, like more than before. When we were in California, Tanner and I, " he stood closer to Quentin and lowered his voice, "we...kissed."

Quentin's hand that had been holding another cupcake to his mouth froze. He was genuinely shocked by that. It was obvious they were always into each other, though he never expected something to happen between them.

Dylan went on to explain the whole situation in vague detail to spare Quentin the torture of having to hear about his two best friends making out. Dylan was so pissed. They got back home and everything changed. Tanner suddenly made up with his girlfriend and they were the happiest of couples. Quentin could tell how hurt Dylan was without him saying so.

"It's just stupid."

"I honestly wasn't expecting that," he could tell Dylan needed some sage words of advice, " but I can tell you really like him and I thought it was obvious that Tanner's been crazy about you for a long time. You should go after him, fight for him. He'd be happier with you than that bitch any day."

Dylan's smile was sad, though he did feel comforted by his friend's advice. Overall, he mostly felt fucking stupid about the situation.

"You sure you'd be cool with us?"

"Probably not, but I hate Paris, so..."

A door slam down the hall and angry footsteps echoed throughout the basement. The two boys tried to act casual as if they weren't listening to the formerly happy couple argue quite loudly.

Paris snatched a set of car keys out of Tanner's hand and stomped away. Quentin cocked an eyebrow at Dylan in an I told you expression. Tanner drug his fingers through his hair, breathing heavily. They knew he was on the verge of a panic attack, but Dylan felt too bitter to help him. So he merely stood there as Quentin attempted to calm their friend down.

It was almost like he was frozen. He simultaneously wanted to hug Tanner and bolt the fuck out of there. It took every ounce of self control in his body not to run away in that moment. He couldn't get his body to do either.

When he could move again, he lifted his gaze from his feet to look directly at Tanner- where else could he look?- and was heartbroken. Tanner's cheeks were splotchy red and wet with the heavy tears that flowed from his glassy, nearly bloodshot eyes. Dylan tried not to care. Tanner hurt him. Why should he care? But he did. He gave every fuck in the world until he made it home to the long forgotten security of his bed and passed out cold. He couldn't remember making the decision to bolt.

Meanwhile, Kim was worried sick about her son.

"Tanner, sweetie, you need to eat." She practically begged. She knew he hadn't had a bite all day.

He just lay there, emotionally drained and motionless. At least he seemed calm now, after a few long hours of crying. They couldn't leave him alone like this. They didn't know what caused this mental break (though Quentin had an idea) and it scared them. He was so despondent.

Seeing him like this made Kim more determined than ever to get him the help he clearly needed. She didn't care anymore about getting a house. If they had to live out of a hotel, so be it. Her baby needed help.

Tristan and Taylor grew tired and went to bed. Quentin managed to convince Kim to tear herself from Tanner's side, promising he would keep an eye on him. She reluctantly left to get some sleep. She didn't want to leave him. None of them did.

"Is this a Paris thing or a Dylan thing? Cos...he told me about California and it sounds like you two need to be together."

Tanner's face screwed up with emotion and his voice was high and thick. He ranted about something Quentin couldn't understand, so he sat there, rubbing Tanner's back. He wanted to punch Dylan for making Tanner feel like this.

"It's just not fair!" He cried out. "I was going to break up with Paris, but when we got back, she was acting all nice, and shit. I just couldn't do it. Now Dylan hates me."

Quentin realized his two best friends were idiots. They were head over heels for each other, that's for sure, but they couldn't figure it out. Quentin reasoned that they either need to just get together or get the fuck over their kiss and quit acting like a couple of children. It didn't seem that difficult to him.

"I'm sorry. Dylan doesn't hate you. He's just hurt, too."

Everything was such a mess.

Tanner slept restlessly, tossing and turning. All he could think was if he had just manned up and broken things off with Paris, he'd be with Dylan so happily. That knot of anxiety in his side wouldn't be there. Why did that stupid little kiss have to change the entire dynamic of their friendship? Why did they even kiss in the first place?

Dylan woke up to a headache and wet cheeks. He tried to recall the last time he cried. He couldn't. The moon was bright tonight, he noticed, sitting at the end of his bed by the open window. His tan skin was bathed in white. His tears were iridescent. He felt calmed by the still night. It was cooler than it had been. Only a slight heat hung in the country air. The boy sat under that window, staring at the glowing moon, and decided one very important thing.

Tanner gave up on sleep once the sky turned a foggy gray and orange with the beginning of the sunrise. He wandered outside to the middle of his backyard, and lay down on the dewy grass, breathing in slow and steady. His mind, which had been racing like an Indie 500 car all night, slowed enough to process a few thoughts. He thought of the taste of Dylan's lips and the way his stomach flipped when they kissed. He thought about what it was like to kiss Paris. Her lips always tasted like lip gloss. His stomach never knotted when they were together. Kissing Dylan felt like adrenaline. With Paris, it felt like desperation to keep things working.

Tanner decided he preferred adrenaline.