What Am I?

Chapter 18

Sundays are always the most boring days of the week. They have a foreshadowing effect of the fact that the most awful day of the week is getting closer to you. It's so in every corner of the world. The lazy mornings, lazier afternoons and to add on, Bruno Mars' Lazy Song connecting with you like never before. All in all, it's only a little better than Mondays.

But this Sunday was different for Dylan. The medication was making him feel better, he had started overcoming the fear of his hand, things with Andrea were at their best, there was nothing he was really worried about, except Max.

Max hadn't called or texted him after leaving the carnival the previous night. It wasn't anything unusual but he was still concerned.

Just as Dylan was thinking about all the possible excuses Max would give for not calling, the doorbell rang.

"Max, I knew it-" But to Dylan's surprise, he opened the door to Emma.

"Oh hey Em" said Dylan as he gave her a tight hug. It had been long since they had spoken a few words over coffee.

Emma sat on Dylan's bed while he sat on the blue bean bag in the opposite corner. Dylan knew Emma wanted to say something but she wasn't being able to. In the midst of sorting out Max and Emma's problem, he had kind of lost out on his relation with Emma, and so had she.

Growing tired of the silence, Dylan finally said, "Em, we're not strangers. You know you can say anything to me. You're as important to me as Max. I can see you holding back your words; it's like holding back a fart. It starts making you feel uncomfortable and sweaty and-"

"My face looks as though I'm holding back a fart?"

"Oh no no. I couldn't think of another example."

Emma smiled a little and sipped her coffee

"Dylan, I know Max is your best friend, he's beyond important to you, but I need you to stop helping him to get me back. It's my decision to leave him. You can't change it by taking me on a date under the stars." Her eyes welled up.

"I'm sorry Emma. It was just that feeling that maybe I could make things better between both of you. I just wanted to help. I can't afford to let our group break apart. That's the last thing I want."

"You think I'm so weak that I'll let Max and my problem come between all of us? Remember one thing Dylan, you guys are my family. You will mean the same to me, whether you talk to Max or not. In fact, this applies to everyone."

However, there was a sudden change in Emma's expressions. They went from satisfied to fearful. He traced her glaze to see him spilling his coffee all over the floor.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted as he stood up and tried to take control over his hand.

Emma kept her mug on the side table and tried to take Dylan's mug away.

"Ralph, we really can't do this right now! I don't have time for this!" He tried, with all his might, to snatch away the mug from his hand, but the efforts showed no results.

"Before you ask, I've named this God forsaken thing Ralph!"

"Wasn't it Roger?"

"I changed it!"

"Why?"

"I don't think this the time to have this discussion!"

"You've got a point there!"

But both their efforts were useless. Suddenly, the mug went flying across the room, hit the wall, and broke to smithereens. But, the hand didn't stop. It went on and opened the drawer where there lay a pair of scissors. All the noise and commotion got Scotch to the room and on top of the bed.