Then and Now⏺️

Chapter 2: As We Lose Track of Us

June 2011

    “Fuck you, Derek. Fuck. You.”  Dylan got out of the room as fast as her feet would let her, ignoring her now ex-boyfriend’s pleas to explain or how what she saw was not what it seemed. She fled through the people outside his apartment, muttering apologies numbly.

    She didn’t know how to feel about following her instinct. It wasn’t like her to drop by his place without telling him first but the little voice inside her has been saying something is wrong.

  He’d been distant the past three months, and they’ve been together long enough for her to know when his mind isn’t its right place. But judging from what she witnessed five minutes ago, he’s coward enough to throw away a year of their relationship, just like that. With a blonde-botoxed bimbo with fake boobs at that.

    She felt something warm trickle down her cheeks and she put her hand on her face, trying to wipe them away. “Stupid, ugly, horny, sonofabitch,” she mumbled as her tears kept spilling. She fumbled her pocket for her phone and hit the first speed dial.

    Hey, it’s Peter. I can’t come to the phone right now. But if you’re Dylan or someone way more important, I’ll call you as soon as I can. If not, you know what to do after the beep.

    He had told her he’d be busy for a bit, with his new job and all. But this was an emergency, and he’d always told her he’d drop everything when she needed him. She ran a hand through her hair in frustration, not wanting anything else now than to watch a few of Peter’s gory action films and stuff herself with some buttered popcorn.

  What happened with Derek is something she didn’t want to break to him over the phone. She wanted his words to comfort her. Even if that meant having him tell her “I told you so.” She’d even willingly sit through his terrible jokes or bad date stories. Anything. She just needed her best friend.

    After a few more attempts to call him, she decided to leave a message, telling him briefly, and in tears, that she had something to tell him and she was headed to his apartment. Peter had always left a key for her under the fake money plant she got him as a joke for a birthday present. She flagged a taxi down and got in, hoping the night would turn out to be different.

    She staggered as she made her way to his front door, her eyes landing on his windows. Worry crept in her as she took in the dimly opened lights inside, hoping it was just her incurable paranoia that’s telling her Peter’s in trouble. He always opened the light all the way through. At least he did whenever she was there, knowing how scared of the dark she was.

  She knocked loudly on his door, her emotions already running high from what had happened. She bent down, with her hand pushing the pot, when the door opened.

    “Peter, I’m sorry. I just needed—“ She stopped abruptly when her eyes landed on a long pair of legs by the doorway.

    Those aren’t Peter’s. They’re not muscled, hairy, or toned. Okay, maybe they’re a little toned.

“Oh, hey Dylan! What are you doing here?” the girl greeted enthusiastically. Dylan tried to force a smile as she stood up, knowing she’d hate herself if she even snaps at Peter’s girlfriend.

    “Hi, Leila. Is Peter there?” Her voice quivered lightly, and she knew she was seconds from breaking. All the hope she had left was to talk to Peter and maybe find sense into what had just happened. ”It’s important. I really need to talk to him,” she added.

    “Hold on. I’ll ask him. “

    Leila disappeared inside and all Dylan wanted to do was follow her, knowing Peter wouldn’t mind. But if the previous event was anything to go by, she told herself not to. The possibility of it not ending well was too high. Her heart skipped as she heard footsteps. She pushed the door open, only to see Leila.

    Leila had her hand on the door, almost blocking the way in. “I’m sorry, Dylan. He’s really busy. He’s been helping me out with my paper. Could you drop by tomorrow instead? I’m sure he wouldn’t be too busy for you by then.”

    Leila’s eyes were emotionless that Dylan couldn’t tell if she was sympathetic or simply unknowing that she needed Peter more than anything. Wouldn’t be too busy for me? He promised he wouldn’t. And she wanted to say that. But she couldn’t. Not without sounding like a child in desperate need of her friend. Of the only friend she has ever had.

  So instead, she nodded in a daze, taking a few steps back as she started walking. She stopped by the window and saw Leila and Peter huddled by the kitchen, laughing.

    She didn’t know why her heart ached more at the scene that played before her than seeing Derek cheat on her.

   Or maybe she does. But her heart just couldn’t believe that her tree house has crushed under her, with a new, better one in its place.