Perfectly Clueless

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Perfectly Clueless Page 7

by Madeleine Labitan


  Rohan seems like a great guy. Who knows? Maybe he’ll help me move on from my feelings for Dylan. It’s about time I do that, anyway. I’ve waited enough.

  And I can’t let Dylan sabotage that chance.

  “So, do you?”

  I glance away. “I told you I do.”

  “What if he’s like me? What if he’s only looking to screw and ditch? What then?”

  “It’s still not your problem. Remember what you told me this morning? That whatever’s going on between you and Kristen doesn’t concern me? Well, the same goes with me and Rohan. It doesn’t concern you.”

  “The thing with Kristen”—he says hoarsely, swallowing hard—“it’s not going to be a problem anymore.”

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s over. I broke up with her.”

  My lips part in disbelief, breath escaping from my lungs in a rush. He broke up with Kristen?

  “I ended it a few hours ago.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” He frowns, his brows drawn together. “Because it doesn’t feel right anymore? Because my feelings aren’t as strong as before?” He blows out a long breath. “All I know is that it’s unfair to string her along when my heart is no longer in it. To be honest, I don’t think it ever was.”

  I can only stare at him in silence, still reeling from the bomb he just threw at my feet. I don’t even know how to react. Should I feel bad for Kristen? Or should I jump at the chance to make him mine?

  But what if everything goes back to the way it was before Kristen entered the picture? Now that Dylan knows relationships are not for him, he’ll likely return to his philandering ways.

  You know he will.

  How can I even think I have a chance?

  And that realization makes me ball my hands into fists, resentment flickering in my eyes. In a cold voice, I say, “Should we celebrate?”

  He gives a blank look. “Why would we?”

  “You’re a free guy again, right? Which means you can now go back to hooking up with different girls every week. That calls for a celebration, right?

  “Or are you already planning to celebrate it with some girl tonight? It’s okay, I understand. Tomorrow then? Can you pen me in after school?”

  Dylan looks at me like I just slapped him. “You really think that low of me?” He takes my silence as an answer, hurt clouding his features.

  Not low. Just the truth. I avert my eyes, the expression on my face remaining neutral.

  He laughs under his breath and shakes his head. “Jesus, of course you do.” Tearing his gaze away from me, he nods. “Right. Well, thanks for letting me know.”

  But it’s not what he thinks. “Dylan—”

  He ignores me, choosing to walk away.

  Heart squeezing painfully in my chest, I clutch his jacket tighter around me and watch him climb into his pickup, driving off in a cloud of smoke.

  Why does it feel like I just made everything worse?

  Fourteen

  Dylan and I don’t talk the rest of the week. In fact, we’ve been actively avoiding each other. If he’s around Nick and Sloan, I keep my distance. If I’m hanging out with them, he’ll do the same thing. I don’t know if our friends are noticing the tension between us, but they’re not saying anything.

  This is our worst fight so far. It’s also the longest time we ever spent not talking to each other. And it sucks. I miss my best friend and I haven’t been able to sleep well at night because of it. The dark circles under my eyes are proof enough.

  But what can I do? I still haven’t forgiven him for acting like a stupid caveman behind my back all these years. On the other hand, I feel bad for saying those hurtful words to him. It seems like all I’ve ever done lately is be a bitch to him.

  News about his and Kristen’s breakup has already spread around the school. And now that Dylan is back to his “eligible bachelor” status, girls are flocking to him once again. I fully expected to see him return to his philandering ways in no time, but I actually haven’t seen him hang out with any girl.

  This morning I caught him snapping at a girl for invading his personal space, humiliating her and completely shocking me. Is he scaring them off now, too?

  I’ve seen Kristen around school and she’s always surrounded by her friends. Like they serve as her protective shields. Whenever she walks past, she pretends not to see me.

  She still talks to El and Maddie though, so I know I’m the only one she’s ignoring. I wonder what changed, but my pride is keeping me from confronting her.

  If she doesn’t want to be friends with me, then so be it.

  Despite that, I still feel bad for her. I don’t need to have a boyfriend to know that being dumped sucks. And it shows. Kristen tries to look and act like she’s got it together, but those puffy eyes aren’t fooling anyone.

  Still, every day I dread that I’ll see her and Dylan back together. That he will realize he made a mistake and he’ll win her back. But it never happens. I guess he’s truly done with her.

  Stepping out of the school building, I take my iPod out and put my earphones on, Led Zeppelin’s Dazed and Confused flooding my ears. I start the search for Adam’s car when I reach the parking lot.

  Since Dylan and I aren’t talking, I’ve been riding to and from the school with my twin and his girlfriend. It’s not an ideal setup, seeing as they’re so much worse than Dylan and Kristen ever were in the PDA department. Which is why I always put my earbuds on whenever I’m in the car with them.

  A minute later and I manage to spot Adam’s Honda. But he and Maddie are nowhere to be found.

  Ugh. I hate waiting.

  I’m about to fish my phone out to call my twin when a hand suddenly rests on my shoulder, making me yelp and almost drop my iPod. Fuming, I spin around to face the culprit.

  Rohan’s hands are raised in mock surrender, his lips twitching.

  I narrow my eyes at him, pulling out my earbuds. “You really need to stop sneaking up on me.”

  “Actually, I called your name. But you didn’t hear me,” he explains, motioning to the earphones in my hand.

  “Oh. Right.” I press stop on the iPod and shove them both inside my bag. Glancing back at him, I let out a tight smile. “So, uh, hi.”

  Here’s the thing: Dylan isn’t the only one I’ve been avoiding at school. Rohan, too. Unlike with Dylan, it hasn’t been a conscious decision. Not at first. I thought I needed some time alone to think. But eventually I realized I just wanted to avoid discussing a particular topic.

  “About tomorrow night.”

  Yeah, that topic. Today’s Friday, which means tomorrow’s our big date. I should be all over the moon with excitement. Never mind that it’s going to be my first date. I’m about to see one of the coolest bands ever perform tomorrow night. Who knows when I’ll get to see them again? But instead of looking forward to it, I’m having second thoughts.

  Honestly, I’m torn between going and canceling. I want to tell Rohan I’m bailing, but a part of me still wants to go. I want to explore this thing between us. Find out if we have chemistry or whatever. Plus I really, really want to see Reckless Pursuit up close. But I can’t decide on what to do, so I’ve been avoiding him.

  “We haven’t been able to talk. Every time I see you, you’re always preoccupied with something. Even in class.”

  My guilt must be showing on my face. I glance away. “Rohan—”

  “Is it because of McCafferty? Are you worried about him?”

  I whip my head back to him. “Why would you say that? Wait.” I pause for a beat, frowning. “Is he still being a jerk to you? Because I already told him to leave you alone.”

  “No, he’s not being an arse anymore,” he chuckles. “But he did talk to me.”

  I go very still. “What did he say?”

  “He told me he’d leave us alone.”

  “Oh.” Us? What did Dylan mean? He’ll leave me alone, too? Is that what I want?

  He clears h
is throat. “He also told me that he would, uh, break my pretty face and make the rest of my senior year a living hell if I make you cry.”

  “Dylan said that?” I swallow down the sudden lump in my throat.

  He did what I wanted him to do. He’s backing off. He did threaten Rohan, but he’s not interfering anymore. And that’s exactly what I want.

  Then why aren’t you happy about it?

  “That’s a good thing, right?” Rohan asks hesitantly, seeing my distress.

  “Yeah. Of course.” I nod, distracted.

  Then something behind Rohan catches my eyes. It’s Dylan and he’s heading to his pickup truck.

  The sight of him propels my feet to move. No hesitation. I need to go to him.

  “Bianca, where are you going?” Rohan calls after me.

  “Sorry, something came up. I’ll call you later,” I holler over my shoulder, my feet picking up speed until I’m practically running.

  I’m panting when I reach the pickup, climbing into the passenger seat just as Dylan starts the engine.

  “Bianca?” He’s surprised to see me.

  “Hey,” I wheeze out, raising a hand awkwardly.

  “What are you doing here?” His face softens at first, then tenses, remembering our fight.

  But I can only stare, longing punching me in the gut. Dammit, it’s been days, and I really missed him. Judging by the way his eyes are hungrily sweeping over my face, he missed me, too.

  And his eyes—they have dark circles too. He’s even showing a two-day old stubble. But instead of making him look scraggly, they only work in his favor, adding to his ruggedness and appeal.

  “D.” To my horror, tears well up in my eyes, my chin wobbling.

  Dylan mutters a low curse then moves toward me in a flash. And then his arms are surrounding me, clutching me to him.

  I so missed him. I hug him tight, taking in the heat of his body, tears falling freely down my cheeks. But thankfully I’m not bawling like a baby. I don’t think I’ll be able to live that down.

  Quietly, I cry, clinging onto him like he’s my lifeline. It’s only been days, and yet it feels like it’s been a long time since the last time I talked to him, joked with him—hell, simply spent time with him.

  It’s like a wall has been erected between us and every day it grows. I hate it.

  Minutes later and I pull away, swiping at my cheeks.

  He doesn’t let me stray far though, his arms are still wrapped around me, quietly dabbing his hanky on my eyes and cheeks, as if he doesn’t want to let me go.

  “I’m sorry,” I sniff.

  He sighs, finally pulling away, making me instantly miss his warmth. “No. I should be the one who’s sorry.”

  “I was a bitch to you, D.”

  “And I was a dick.”

  Our gazes meet and we blurt out at the same time, “Let’s not fight again.”

  We both break into a smile. But as much as I like to pretend that everything is back to normal—that everything is already straightened out—I can’t. We still need to talk.

  He swipes at the remaining drops of tears on my cheeks. “Buckle in. I’ll give you a ride home.”

  “Actually, can we go somewhere? To talk?”

  He nods, only hesitating a little, before pulling out of the school parking lot.

  I keep my eyes out the window as he drives, hoping that this talk won’t end with us yelling at each other. We’ve already had enough drama to last us through senior year.

  We end up at the clearing, the highest point in Bayfield and overlooking our entire town. Me, Dylan, Nick and Sloan—and sometimes El—used to go here and chill out after a night of partying. It seems ages since the last time we’ve been here.

  Dylan parks his truck a little close to the edge to get the best view and kills the engine.

  We’re left in silence, but it’s not tense or heavy.

  I break it, anyway. “Rohan told me that you talked to him.”

  He doesn’t answer. Just looks at me quietly, his eyes hardening a little at the mention of Rohan’s name.

  I sigh. “Threatening to make his senior year hell is way harsh, don’t you think?”

  “Good,” he grunts, sounding like the caveman that he is. “I want him to think twice before hurting you.”

  I choke out a laugh. “I don’t think Rohan will do that.”

  I don’t even think we’ll come to that. We haven’t even had our first date and I already want to cancel on him. I’m already having second thoughts. And what about Rohan? He’s probably thinking of canceling the date himself after I practically ditched him to go to Dylan. I can’t blame him if he does.

  “I appreciate the gesture, D, as harsh as it was. But you really didn’t have to do it.”

  “I didn’t do it just for you.” He took a deep breath, turning his head away from me. “I did it for me, too.”

  My eyes spring wide. “What do you mean?”

  Our gazes lock, his filled with an intense emotion that makes my breath catch in my throat. “It’s my way of easing into the fact that I can’t keep you to myself anymore.”

  He wants to keep me to himself? Warmth washes over me and my heart starts to thud hard against my chest.

  “Did it work?” I whisper, licking my lips.

  The air shifts around us as his eyes slide to my mouth, his gaze suddenly turning molten.

  My mouth turns dry, my skin buzzing with awareness. Something clenches in my stomach. This is the first time he’s looked at me like that. Like he…wants me. Like he wants to kiss me.

  And dammit if I didn’t want him to.

  Suddenly emboldened, I move closer to him. “Dylan.”

  His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Bianca, I—”

  But my phone chooses the moment to ring.

  Dylan blinks, shaking his head like he just comes out of a deep trance. And I watch with disappointment as his expression morphs back to being unreadable. “You better answer that.”

  Just like that, the moment is ruined.

  Silently cursing whoever is calling, I fish my phone out. It’s Adam. I close my eyes. “Shit.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s Adam. I was supposed to catch a ride home with him. He’s still probably at school looking for me. I forgot to tell him I’m with you.” I end the call without answering and fire up a text instead.

  Dylan sighs and starts the engine. “Tell him I’m driving you home.”

  “I just did.” I stare at him expectantly, waiting for him to talk about what just happened there.

  Because something did happen. Something changed between us. I felt it. It was as thick as the air around us. I even saw it in his eyes.

  But he doesn’t say anything. He just puts the pickup in reverse and pulls out of the clearing.

  I keep waiting for him to speak up, but the whole drive to my house is filled with silence. He’s not even looking at me, his eyes fully trained on the road.

  I know we had a moment and I didn’t imagine it. But he’s acting like nothing happened.

  Several minutes pass before I realize that Dylan is not going to say anything. He’s not going to address what happened.

  And he confirms it when he drops me off in front of my house—only giving me a distracted “see you later”—and drives off, leaving me standing like an idiot in the driveway.

  Fifteen

  I’m lying in my bed staring at my walls, but not seeing anything. Instead, I’m mentally replaying the scene in Dylan’s pickup over and over.

  Why did he act like nothing happened? I know in my gut that for a fleeting moment there, he was thinking of kissing me. I saw it. I felt it. Then he basically brushed me off.

  But why would Dylan even think of kissing me? Why did he look at me like he wanted me? Like he felt something for me?

  If he does, how did it happen? How could he feel that way when he was just with Kristen last week? It doesn’t make sense.

  Dammit, I need answ
ers. I won’t be able to go to sleep without knowing. And I’m freaking getting them.

  Growling, I grab my phone and type in a text: Hey, u up?

  But then I delete it without sending. What if he figures out I’m obsessing over that moment in the clearing? Does my text reveal my feelings? Making a face, I quickly compose another message—only to end up deleting it again.

  This is stupid. Since when did I struggle to text Dylan. This is my best friend, for crying out loud. The best friend I’m in love with, granted, but my best friend nonetheless. We’re used to texting even the silliest things to each other.

  You know what? Screw this. I’m just going to head over to his house. It’s only nine, anyway. I know he’s still awake at this time.

  Grabbing my phone, I rush out the door and race downstairs. Then run into Adam who just exited the kitchen, a sandwich in his hand.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, can I borrow your car?”

  He shrugs. “Sure. Where are you going?”

  “Thanks.” I walk past him, not answering his question, passing by the kitchen to snatch his keys from the key rack.

  Then I head out the side door to the garage. Ten minutes later and I reach Dylan’s street. But instead of pulling up in front of his house, I park my brother’s car a few houses down. And I stay put instead of marching out.

  How will he react when he sees me? What if he’s able to see through me? I wonder if he’ll know from the get-go that I want to talk about what happened this afternoon. That I need answers from him. That I’m hoping that the answers he’ll give me are the answers I’ve been hoping all this time.

  Hope blooms in my chest. But it quickly dies out as doubts race in my head. What if we’re not in the same page at all? Like what if I’m just really imagining things?

  Shit. I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of Dylan. How am I supposed to face him after this?

  I really didn’t think this through. Dammit, why do I have to be so impatient and impulsive all the time?

  This is a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. I should head back and go home. Then the next time I see him, I’ll do what he did—pretend nothing happened. It should be easy, right? I’ve been pretending in front of him all these years. It will be a piece of cake.

 

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