Supernatural Boarding School #3 - A Brush of Death ✅

Chapter 43 - Dylan

Don't hesitate to point out inconsistencies, spelling errors, faults in my grammar, and so on. And... enjoy the chapter!

Dylan's point of view

I had imagined all of this quite differently. Demona had been awake for two weeks now, it was the summer vacation for my friends who hadn't turned yet and everyone was happy, making plans, meeting up, dating. And here I was, still in that little motel room, on my own.

Okay, not completely on my own, since I still had my friends and they visited me all the time and invited me along when they went out. I hated being the fifth wheel, though, so I often refused. Simon and Eros showed up with pizza every few days, but I just didn't want to be the next person they had to rescue. They were both doing great and as much as I loved them and was happy for them, it made me hate myself even more.

It didn't help that my dad kept telling me that I should move back in with him. Back to Kansas City, so I could figure out what I wanted to do once the summer was over. It was too late to apply to a college that started right after the vacation, but there were still options to enroll later in the year, if only I could figure out if that was what I wanted to do. I'd never longed for that, to be honest. Never truly wanted to go to college. I wasn't even sure what my passion was, what I wanted to be when I was older and wiser. Not a nut job like my mother, obviously, but also not a lawyer like my father. The only thing I'd ever truly loved had been being with Carl, but that was not a career and on top of that, he was dating Dylan Daily now.

Dylan fucking Daily.

Every single day, I scrolled through my social media, only to be faced with pictures of them having coffee, going shopping, making silly faces... Simon kept telling me to just stop looking at those pics, to find something to fill my days with so the hurt would slowly go away. I knew he was right, but I wasn't ready to move on. Instead, I had reached out to Dylan Daily to apologize to him. It was long overdue anyway and maybe, just maybe, it would get me back in Carl's good graces.

Surprisingly, Dylan had been quick to accept my apology and he'd even told me that it might be a good idea for all of us to meet up to talk about all of this. Me, him and Carl. Together. Getting coffee. All of us.

That sounded like the worst thing we could possible do, but I agreed to it, since Carl had been refusing to see me ever since our brief talk in the hospital corridor. I'd practically begged him to hear me out, to let me explain, apologize, but he hadn't wanted to listen for even a second. In fact, he'd yelled at me, told me to go to hell. I deserved that, obviously, since I had overreacted tremendously to him sleeping with Dylan. It had felt to me like he'd cheated on me, but of course I knew that he hadn't. We hadn't been together and he'd been hurting. I realized that my search for a way to forgive him had been stupid, since there was nothing to forgive. I'd been an awful boyfriend to him and when he'd finally broken up with me, after sticking it out for too long already, I had punched his rebound. A human guy who was actually a decent fellow. I was the one who needed forgiveness, not Carl. He knew it, I knew it, but he wouldn't allow to even start the slow process of getting back together. He didn't want to. He wanted to continue dating Dylan Daily.

So yeah, I decided to go to that weird coffee date. I made sure to look my best, but I wasn't sure if it would even matter. Dylan was a stunning guy, I had seen that for myself that night in the bar. Me wearing a nice shirt and right jeans wasn't going to make Carl start swooning all of a sudden. He was already swooning, but I had nothing to do with it.

So there I was, at the coffee place where Carl and Dylan were sitting already, nervous like hell. They were outside, in the sun, their fingers entwined on the table, like they wanted me to see that they were very much together. Dylan was the first to spot me and he waved me over, smiling. He looked radiant, even though his nose was still slightly swollen, the bruise fading but still visible.