"I'm dying, mom!" I groaned, rolling around in pain. "I'm dying. Before you leave, do say what you loved about your daughter. I think my time has come to leave this planet—"
"Oh, shut up, Aubrey," Mom rolled her eyes and placed another tissue box next to me.
I pursed my lips. "Is that you how you treat your only child? Right before they're going to die? I am ashamed to call you my mother."
"You have a fever and a runny nose, you swine," she scolded. "You really are dramatic, you know that?"
I grinned. "Thank you, thank you." My grin then diminished and I harshly coughed. "But it feels like I'm dying. I can only breath through one nostril and my head is spinning. It's death, I tell you; death."
Mom gave me a look.
"Okay, it's close to death," I mumbled, wiping my nose. "Does dad have work today?"
"Yes," she replied. "I'm going to Jessica's house for coffee and then on my way back, I'm stopping at the market." She sighed. "I've been going to the market way too many times. You need anything? Oh! We need toilet paper and..."
I zoned out and felt my eyelids slowly drip as my mom fumbled around the room, ranting to herself. "Aubrey, are you listening to me?"
"Huh? Yeah!"
She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Are you sure you don't need me to call Mrs. Walker? What if you fell really sick and none of us were home? What if you need anything?"
"Mom, I'll be okay," I said. "I mean, come on, you did say it's just a fever and a runny nose. Besides, I'm going to get some rest and then do some homework." I grabbed another tissue and coughed to the point where I felt my lungs were going to fall out of my chest. She opened her mouth to retort but I gave her a stern look. "I'm fine!"
She sighed, unconvinced. "Okay. Well, I'm off. I'll see you later, sweetie."
Once the door closed, I breathed a sigh of relief and buried myself deep in my covers, smiling in content. I was enjoying my Saturday so far. When I had woken up, I decided that I needed the day to relax after yesterday's events. I took Esther's advice and did everything that could distract me. The rest of my Saturday was planned out: I would nap, wake up and do some homework, and then take Charlie out for a walk. That was all what I wanted to do and I hoped the day wouldn't be ruined.
I then shut my eyes and as soon as I did so, I fell asleep.
When one wakes up, they expect themselves to have no problems. I had expected myself to wake up and find no trouble by my side. What no one expects to find when they wake up is a stranger right next to you.
And that was what I found when I first opened my eyes.
"What the—" I shrieked, rolling to the side. I ended up falling off of the bed, landing on the carpeted floor with a thud. I groaned and sat on my knees. Dylan was seated on a chair with a book in his hands, completely unfazed. "Are you seriously kidding me?"
I stood up and crossed my arms, looking at him. Eventually, he set the book down and sighed, standing up. He shoved his hands into his pants' pockets and we spent at least a minute staring at each other.
"You look like Rudolf."
Boy, he sure knows how to sweep a girl off her feet, I thought.
"Gee, thanks," I retorted, but nonetheless blushing. "Wh-what are you doing here? How long have you been sitting there? Why are you here?"
He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Your mother told me that you were sick."
I squinted my eyes at him, still confused.
Dylan rolled his eyes. "She wanted me to look after you."
"I bet you're happy being here with a task," I teased, folding my arms.
"Oh, definitely," he sneered. "Now, come on. I need to get some stuff for my mother from the grocery."
"I don't really need to go," I said, shrugging. "I'm fine, really."
"And then I end up receiving hell from my mom," he glowered at me. "It's enough that yesterday—" He stopped and stared at me for a brief moment, various emotions dancing across his features. He sighed and rubbed his temples and I gave him a sympathetic look. "I don't want to argue. So don't argue."
I wet my lips. "How are your bruises?" He looked at me and I gestured to his neck. When he didn't reply, I sighed and made my way over to the closet, mumbling to myself, until I felt his cold hand curl around my elbow to turn me around.
I stared at him.
He kept his gaze fixed on anything but me.
"What?" I softly asked.
"Did I say something last night?" he muttered.
My eyes widened. "I didn't think you'd remember anything from last night."
He finally looked at me, a scowl painting his face. "Are you kidding me? Even I know that my drunken self couldn't have just ended up on my bed with a blanket over me. So just tell me if I said something or not."
"Well, yeah, you did say something, but you're going to have to specify more," I said, and he looked like he wanted to obliterate me. "What are we talking about here?" He groaned in frustration and I sighed again. "Okay, you...you didn't say anything." He raised an eyebrow at me. "I promise."
He let go of me and retreated backwards, sitting down on the bed. I flung open my closet and began rummaging for some comfortable clothes. "You know, you also still manage to be a massive butt as well when drunk. And you also don't smile. I don't think you ever smile. It's a sad thing, though. Smiling is good. I swear you should smile more. How come you don't smile? I'm very curious. Also—" I stopped and laughed. "—you're very goofy when you're drunk. I think you display various emotions when you're not sober. Ah, I found you shushing a trashcan that you were unable to put back in its place. You failed twice. It was pretty funny."
I turned around with the clothes in my hands. Dylan was frowning but his cheeks were tinted red and I laughed again.
"You talk way too much," he said, rubbing his forehead again.
I shrugged and smiled. "Could you – could you leave so I could change?"
Silently, he stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him. I quickly changed into my clothes and combed my tangled hair with my fingers. Then, I headed downstairs and found Dylan stroking Charlie's fur. He sure needed a haircut, I thought.
"I'm ready."
We got into their car and without a word, Dylan started up the engine and began driving. I put on my seatbelt and sighed, aimlessly playing with my fingers. The car ride was awfully awkward. I realized both Dylan and I didn't have the urge to choke one another. Our first encounter pretty much stopped bothering me.
To decrease the amount of tension between us, I turned on the radio and smiled as one of my favorite songs began playing. I hummed to it and watched as the scenery outside zoomed past us in a blur. When the song suddenly changed midway, I whipped my head around.
"What'd you do that for?" I asked.
"I felt like listening to this song," he flatly said.
I glared at him and changed the station. "Yeah, well, I want to listen to this song."
He glowered at me. "Are you serious?"
"Indeed."
His jaw clenched and he proceeded to change the song. Thus continued our fight over which song had to be played. In the end, a frustrated and furious Dylan turned off the radio and I decided against turning it back on.
"You are unbelievable," he hissed.
Ignoring him, I thought for a brief moment. I drummed my nails against the doorframe. "So," I began. "You wanna play twenty questions?"
Dylan's face told me otherwise.
"Oh, come on," I complained. "I'm trying to break the ice here. The least you could do is help. I mean, we started off on the wrong foot and I'm just trying to be friendly. I'm going to start, okay? Don't give me that look!" I wrinkled my nose and thought of a question while Dylan spat out crude obscenities. "Alright! I have a question! I heard you have a sibling. What's his name?"
Dylan gripped the steering wheel with both hands, his face looking for an escape. He heaved a sigh and looked at me. "You're never going to shut up, are you?"
"No."
"David," he replied. "His name is David."
I smiled. "That wasn't bad, now was it? Now it's your turn!"
Dylan stayed silent and I decided to give him some time to think. I stared at him with an eager look, patiently waiting. He tilted his head, stared right ahead, and muttered some other obscene words.
"I swear I'll never stop annoying you."
"Alright!" he said, aggravated. "What's your favorite color?"
I gave him a flat look. "You suck at this game. Anyway, it's either orange or blue. I'm quite indecisive. I do like them both. Like a lot. My turn! What's your biggest fear? Or one of your biggest fears?"
"I'm not afraid of anything," he spoke in a low voice, a scowl on his face.
"That's a lie."
"Don't argue with me, okay? I'm not afraid of anything. You asked me a question and I gave you an answer. Now quit it."
"Meanie."
"I will kick you out of this car."
"How charming."
We were on our way back home. Dylan had gathered some of the things his mother asked him to get and I ended up buying a bunch of chocolate bars that I most definitely did not devour on the way back.
(That was a lie.)
Once Dylan parked the car in his driveway, I decided to help with the groceries. For once, Dylan didn't protest. I grabbed some of the brown paper bags and began trotting my way up to his door. When we were inside, I began to put away the products, and that awkward tension was back again.
"So, have you made any new friends?" He stayed silent. I cleared my throat. "I'm just curious."
"You're curious about a lot of things."
"Yeah, well, you're pretty interesting."
He didn't say a word after that.
I licked my teeth. "I was asking because I don't see you around anyone at school. Sometimes, I don't even see you. It's very confusing. Everybody likes you, you know. Seriously. On the first day of school, practically every girl I passed was talking about you. See? You haven't smiled once and girls are already drawn to you. Imagine their reactions when they see your smile. I think the boys want you to be on the football team because you look like a good athlete." I stopped and took a breath, putting away the cereal. He still didn't say anything and I took it upon my will to continue. "Say, have you got your eye on someone? I think Abby's attracted to you. I saw her grinning at you."
"Please stop talking."
"Well, why not?" I hopped onto the counter. "I think you guys would make a good couple. Believe me, I'm good at this matchmaking thing. Abby has tattoos and she listens to what you listen to! Isn't that enough? I think you should go for it."
"I said please."
I wrinkled my nose and stayed quiet for a second. "Hey...why did you...why did you and Dallas fight?"
"Stop asking so many questions!" he whirled around and glared at me. "You're making my head spin."
I stuck out my tongue at him and grabbed a tissue to wipe my nose. Unfortunately, I could still only breathe through one nostril.
"Well, I'm sorry, but you don't cooperate!" I exclaimed. "I'm trying to be friendly here."
"Don't."
"You're so rude."
Furious, he opened his mouth to say something but closed it when his mother walked into the kitchen. I grinned at him in victory and hopped off the counter.
"Hi, Molly," I greeted.
"Oh, Aubrey," she smiled brightly. Her eyes looked tired. "It's so nice to see you. How are you, dear? You sound sick."
"Yeah, I caught a cold. It's nothing."
"Chicken noodle soup will help," she warmly said. She looked at Dylan and her face softened up. "Are you feeling okay, sweetie?"
"Yeah."
Molly sighed. "Would you like to stay for dinner, Aubrey?"
"Thank you for the offer, but I can't," I replied. "I have to take my dog out for a walk. He hasn't gone out in almost a week."
"But you should stay for dinner soon!"
Dylan looked like he would prefer drinking acid instead and I resisted the urge not to kick him. I smiled at Molly. "Will do."
"Go with her, Dylan."
"What?" he dryly asked.
"Help her walk the dog. Get some fresh air. You need it."
"You can't be—"
"I am," Molly interrupted.
Pursing his lips, Dylan silently left the house. Molly shook her head and gave me a sympathetic look. "I don't know how you handle him."
"It's kind of the other way around," I sheepishly said, rubbing the back of my neck. "He's quite annoyed by me."
She sighed. "He's like that with everybody."
"I guess I should be going—"
"Thank you, Aubrey."
I sent her a puzzled look. "For what?"
"For yesterday," she softly smiled. "I know that it was you who helped Dylan when he was drunk – when you helped him into the house. Thank you for everything. Dylan, he's – he's just troubled. But, he's a good person. He just doesn't show it."
I was quite surprised. Even after Molly left the room, I stood there and analyzed what she had told me.
Dylan.
He was troubled.
He was a troubled and confused soul.
For reasons I wanted to find out about. For reasons I was going to find out about.
Sighing, I left their house and found Dylan smoking a cigarette. I fetched Charlie and began walking, Dylan silently beside me.
"So," I grinned. "Do you want to continue that twenty questions game?"
"Don't push it, Beatles girl."
"Meanie."
