Rehab, Actors & Love

His First Counseling Session

Dylan's POV

After Della's confession, I was hesitant to leave her. But after she told me about the accident, Evan came to her room and kicked me out.

That guy really doesn't like me.

As I walked back to my room, I thought more about Della's accident. I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew that accident. Maybe I read about it after it happened. Or maybe. . .

"No," I interrupted myself, quickly shaking that thought from my mind. "There is no way I was involved in Della's accident. We weren't even in the same city. . . Right?"

* * * * *

After my useless group session where I didn't share anything, I was walking around the courtyard mindlessly. I couldn't help the smile that formed as I caught a glimpse of Della walking with headphones on.

I smirked as I quickly walked up behind her. I had to hold back a laugh when Della started slightly dancing to her music. With an idea in mind, I reached forward and grabbed her hand, spinning her around.

She let out a surprised gasp as I pulled her into my chest. I reached up and pulled her headphones off her head, resting them around her neck. I smirked when an idea popped into my head as her music played loud enough through her headphones for both of us to hear.

"Dylan," she whispered, glancing around the courtyard. "What are you doing?"

"What?" I asked innocently. "Is it against the rules to have fun? Or dance around?"

With that, I placed my other hand on her back and started dancing her around the grass to the music. I smiled as she laughed. We danced around, not caring whether or not people were watching.

They definitely were, but we didn't care. I usually hated embarrassing myself like this, but the smile on Della's face made up for it.

I suddenly stopped dancing, both of us breathing hard, when I realized something; I didn't care about embarrassing myself because Della was having fun.

I let her go and took a step back, that thought bouncing around my head.

"You okay?" Della asked, her breathing back to normal.

"Umm, yeah," I stuttered, well aware that I sounded like an idiot. "I just. . . I remembered I was on my way to a meeting with the center therapist."

Of all excuses I could've used, I said I was going to the shrink. Really?

"Sorry, Della." I sighed, running my hands through my hair.

"It's okay," she shrugged, a small smile on her lips. "Dr. Hailey hates it when we're late."

"We? You. . . You go to the center therapist?"

"Yeah," she said slowly, her cheeks turning pink. "Evan thought it would be helpful."

"I'm sure he did," I mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

My eyes widened when I realized she had heard me. "Nothing," I stuttered. "It's just. . . He seems. . ."

"Seems what, Dylan?"

Don't do it. Every time you open your mouth and speak your mind, you just end up hurting someone.

"It seems like he cares a lot about you. . .specifically."

"And that's a bad thing?" She scoffed even though her eyes said something else.