Chapter 11

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It's abnormal to get out of Dylan's truck first thing in the morning and not be greeted by a perky blonde with a snarky attitude. Though it appears as if she's there, I know she's not the second someone walks through her image. And it hurts me.

It's weird Dylan not hugging me goodbye as he leaves for practice, leaving me mumbling on and on about how hot he is.

"Hey," Dylan tugged on my bag, bringing me back to reality.

I squint.

"We're gonna be okay."

"I'm not." I sigh, looking up at the hell hole some people call high school.

"Why?"

"Because!" I snap. "My best friend was murdered! By a sociopath! We can't find her and I killed someone!"

"Shh!" He hisses at me, dragging me closer to the truck.

"You probably shouldn't announce that you killed someone in front of a place full of girls who feed off this shit."

I quiet.

"Maybe I'm not ready." I gulp. But the maybe is a lie. I know I'm not ready because I still can't sleep. The lack of sleep has caused my semi-reoccurring daydreams to mix in with reality. Now I'm literally seeing dead people. Well, Holland that is. 

"It's been five days of hell without you here, trust me. But look at me okay?" Dyl swipes his thumbs under my eyes to wipe the tears. I should be bothered by them but I'm numb to them now. Not like I even tried more than putting on a pair of jeans today.

"You're not going to be facing any battle without me in it." His words are assuring even though I know it's a lie. He's just trying to make me feel better. I know this because he always says he'll be there, but he never is. And I hate to doubt him, but I have yet to face a major battle in harmony.

You know for a long time I thought about breaking it off with Dylan. I mean I was enjoying myself with him [well the Allison controlled version of him] while my best friend was on the verge of dying.

But then I realized that I would be even worse off without Dylan. He knows how to calm me down and how I act. He's an arrogant asshole but he's my asshole. I mean who else would put up with a daydreaming, depressed teenager with a criminal record? Well, non-spoken criminal record. I mean I did kill someone. But that's not the point; the point is I could never be away from Dylan as long as I have been in the past.

And I try not to think about it much when he's around, like now.

"Try not to think about what?" He asks, catching my last thought.

Damn, spent too much time thinking.

"Stop poking into my thoughts!" I smack his arm.

"Stop going all quiet on me! Are you okay? Are you gonna be okay?"

Honestly no, not really.

But life must go on right?

I take Dylan's hand and squeeze it.

"We're going to find Allison, right?" I ask hopefully. Even though I would want nothing more than to ditch today and go searching, we can't.

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