One Last Summer (Dylan O'Brien Fanfic)

Chapter Ninteen

"Dylan, you're in the hospital. I need you to relax?" I suddenly heard the beeping of the heart monitors and felt the thousands of tubes that were attached to my skin.

"Dylan, do you remember what happened?" I looked up, trying to remember.

"Yeah, um, we were driving home and I took my eye off the road for one second. When I looked back this truck had cut into our lane and was heading straight for us. Oh my God! Dad, where is Alex?"

"Is anywhere hurting you?" I shook my head.

"Dad, where is Alex? I have to go see if she's okay."

"Are you sure you're okay son?"

"Dad, stop avoiding the question. Where is Alex? Is she okay?"

My dad bit his lip and looked away, avoiding eye contact with me. That's the same thing he did when he was trying not to cry after my mom died.

His hands started shaking. "Dad?" I asked and my voice started shaking.

"Dylan, it was a really bad accident."

"Dad, no."

"The driver of the truck was pretty drunk and the impact was hard."

"No, no, no, no."

"The car flipped over three times Dylan. Most of the impact of the hit was on her side of the car."

"Dad, no. Please don't say it. Dad please." I pleaded with him.

My dad shook his head hard. I could see that this was eating him up.

"She didn't make it son. I'm sorry." He said as a few tears rolled down his cheeks. 

"No." I said and I felt as if something cold had grabbed onto my heart.

No tears came because I refused to believe that the girl I loved was gone.

"Dad please tell me this is some sick joke you're playing here. Dad, I can't lose her. I just can't lose her. How am I supposed to live now? She can't be gone dad. Please, tell me it isn't true. Please. I loved her."

I couldn't lose her.

Not after I'd just gotten her back.

Not after what we did, what we said.

Not after twelve years.

"Well of course you did, she was your best friend." I violently shook my head.

"No dad." I said causing him to look at me.

"I loved her."

That was the last thing I got out before I started crying. Really, crying.

My dad came and hugged me and the tears just continued flowing. I gripped my dad's shirt in my hands and cried harder. It hurt so much.

My breathing started coming in short gasps.

"Dad, I can’t, I can't breathe." My dad looked lost, worried, hurt and broken all at the same time.

"Hold on, I'm going to get a doctor." The doctor came in and told me that I was having a panic attack.

Under any other circumstance I would've looked at her and said "No shit, Sherlock." But I felt nothing.

She gave me a shot that calm me down almost immediately.

"Well Dylan, you were pretty lucky. You survived one of the worse head on collisions I've seen in a while."

Alexis didn't survive though. Did that make her unlucky?

"We couldn't detect any injuries whatsoever. Does anything hurt?" I looked at her.

"Yes, my heart does." She smiled and patted my shoulder.

"Oh yeah, right. You were in that car with someone else and she didn't make it. Don't worry man, in a few months you'll be fine. You'll leave for college and you'll get on with your life."

Alexis had no life to 'get on' with because she was dead. Then something hit me

"Dad, where is her mother?"

"She was here but she left just before you woke up. She was very worried about you."

Worried about me? The nerve of that woman.

She'd just lost her daughter and she was worried about me.

"I have to go see her dad." I said looking at him and he nodded.

"As soon as you get discharged I'll drop you there. Oh, that reminds me." He reached into his bag and pulled out a book with a red cover and the picture of some worn out black Chuck Taylor's at the bottom of the cover.

"Alexis had asked me to give this to you when she left for college. But I guess since she’s..." My dad didn't finish the sentence he just handed me the book.

"I'm gonna go home and take shower, I'll be right back, okay?" I nodded.

"Sure, dad." I said without removing my eyes from the cover that read 'Simply Me by Alexis Lanchester'

My best friend had written a book.

My girlfriend had written a book.

I opened the book and read the acknowledgements.

'I owe my life to my mother, for actually giving birth to me and for keeping me and to the man who donated the sperm; thank you for showing me the man I didn't want to end up with. To Mr. O'Brien; my father by default, I love you and you have no idea how loved I feel when you call me pumpkin. Finally, to my best friend; Dylan O'Brien, I love you more than you'd ever know and you were so much a part of this book as I am. To these three people, I say thank you for choosing to have me in your lives.'

Below that was a hand written note from her:

To my biggest fan (hehe),

Dylan, what you’re about to read will change your life because I'm that awesome.

Your best friend, Alex

***

Two days later I was outside Alexis' house.

The house that was my second home. The house that held a great deal of my childhood memories.

Now, it was the house that held my greatest heartbreak. I'd read her book at least three times in the last two days and every time I read it I saw something new.

It was like she was still here speaking to me through the pages. There was one thing I hated about the book though; the end.

Don’t get me wrong it was amazing. She seemed so contented at the end, like everything was perfect even though when wanted them to be different.

‘At least Dylan is going to be happy with Ashley. At least I still get to love him, even if it’s as his best friend. At least I get to say know Dylan in a way none of his girlfriends did.’

At least. Those two words were now a lie because the end of her story had changed. It should really say;

‘Finally, Dylan knows he deserves way better than Ashley. Finally Dylan and I were honest with each other about the way we felt. Finally Dylan and I had accepted that we were meant to be more than best friends.’

Finally.

***

Okay, so this story has been so so great to write becasue I love Dylan so, so very much.

Like, it's unbelievable how much I love him. Don't worry, I may have one or two more chapters left.

To all who read, I love you so much and I don't care if it's 200 or 10k. The fact that someone took the time to read what I write warms my hear.

Now I sound like a care bear.

Laters, and thank you for reading.

I love your sexy faces.