Something New

by Amanda Abram

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” I mumbled to Dylan, leading him to the kitchen.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked him, opening the refrigerator and retrieving a bottle of water for myself.

  “No, thank you,” he replied, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

  “So, what’s up?” I unscrewed the cap of my water and took a large sip.

  “My dad came home.”

  “That’s great news!” I said, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I could tell from the look on his face that it wasn’t great news.

  “My parents are getting divorced,” he said bluntly, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I should have expected this would happen—they’ve been fighting so much lately—but it took me by surprise, and I just don’t know how to deal with it.”

  “Dylan, I’m so sorry.” My heart ached for him. I had no idea what he was going through, I just knew it couldn’t be easy.

  But I didn’t have to worry about saying anything, because he instantly continued.

  “And it gets worse,” he said with a sigh. “The reason they had that big, blowout fight last night was because my dad told my mom he’s been…” His eyes hardened as a muscle in his jaw contracted. “He’s been cheating on her. With a younger woman.”

  “Dylan,” I breathed, “That’s terrible. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Yeah, neither do I.” He removed his hands from his jacket pockets and ran one through his hair. I gasped when I noticed on his other hand was some sort of a makeshift bandage with a little bit of blood seeping through it.

  “What happened to your hand?”

  He blinked down at it, like he had no idea why I would ask. “Oh, that. I may have punched a wall.”

  “Seriously?” I stepped forward and took his hand in mine, trying to get a better look at it. “Have you disinfected it or anything?”

  “No, I did it right before I came over here. That’s why the bandage is—”

  “A fast food napkin secured with duct tape?” I finished for him.

  He chuckled. “Yeah. It’s all I had.”

  With a sigh, I grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the kitchen. “Come with me.”

  I led him down the hall to the bathroom, where I began raiding the medicine cabinet.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m going to take a look at your hand, and then I’m going to clean it and properly dress it for you.” I placed a tube of antibiotic ointment next to the sink and grabbed a clean hand towel from the shelf above the toilet.

  Dylan made a face and shook his head. “I don’t need you to do that.”

  “Yes, you do.” I took his hand and carefully removed the duct taped napkin, dropping it into the trash. I cringed at what was underneath. There was already a purple bruise forming, and his knuckles were swollen, scuffed up, and bleeding.

  “How many times did you hit that wall?” I asked him.

  “A couple, maybe,” he replied, as if it were no big deal.

  I turned on the faucet and pointed to the soap dispenser. “Give that hand a thorough washing.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smirk.

  After he was done, I took it again and examined it, making sure it was free of any dirt or other debris, and then gently dabbed at it with the towel to dry it off.

  Dylan leaned against the sink as I grabbed a cotton swab and put a small amount of the antibiotic ointment on the wounds.

  “This may or may not sting a little,” I warned, gingerly running the swab over the first scrape, covering it with a thin layer of ointment.

  Dylan watched as I continued to do the same with the other scrapes. “You’re good at this.”

  I smiled. “I hope so. I’m going to nursing school after I graduate.”

  “Oh yeah? I had no idea you wanted to be a nurse.”

  “Yep.” I screwed the cap back on the tube and tossed the cotton swab in the trash.

  “So, you’re not planning on being a barista forever?”

  “Nope.” I reached back into the medicine cabinet and pulled out an unopened box of rolled gauze. Taking it out, I began to wrap it around Dylan’s hand.

  “Well, that’s great,” he said. “That will raise our combined income significantly. Between my income as an engineer and yours as a nurse, we’ll finally be able to afford that in-ground pool we’ve always wanted.”

  I snorted. “I never said I wanted a pool.”

  “You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”

  “Is it?”

  Dylan nodded with a smirk. “Indeed.” He paused. “You know what sucks about you being a nurse, though? With your long hours, we’ll never get to see each other anymore. You’ll probably get assigned the night shift, which means you’ll be working while I’m sleeping, and I’ll be working when you’re sleeping.”

  “True.” I wrapped the gauze around his hand one more time before securing it with a piece of adhesive tape. “But I think that’s the key to having a good pretend marriage. The time apart will only make our pretend feelings for each other grow stronger.”

  Dylan smiled. “You think so?”

  “I do,” I replied, returning the smile. “But I am concerned about our child, though. I’m not sure how much I would get to see her. Or him.”

  “Her,” Dylan said.

  I blinked at him in surprise. “Wait, you’re letting me have a girl?”

  “Yes, I am,” he said softly. “You deserve to have whatever you want.”

  Something in the way he said that made my heart skip a beat in my chest. Clearing my throat, I said, “Can I choose her name, too?”

  He nodded. “Sure. What are you thinking?”

  I glanced up at the ceiling as I went through names in my head. I was too young to seriously think of baby names, but like most teenage girls, I had given at least some thought to what my future might look like. I would have a modestly-sized house, a handsome but down-to-earth husband, one dog, one cat, and a little girl named—

  “Madeline,” I blurted out.

  “Madeline,” he repeated. “I like that.”

  “You do?”

  “I do. We can call her Maddie for short. She’ll be beautiful like her mother and have a killer sense of humor like her father.”

  I tried not to blush at his indirect compliment as I glanced down at his hand. “Okay, you’re all fixed!”

  He pulled his hand away and held it up in front of him, examining it. He looked impressed. “Nice work, Briggs. I think you’ll make a great nurse.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a grin.

  “No, thank you.” He pushed off the sink and stood in front of me. He was suddenly so close, but for whatever reason, I didn’t even think of moving away. “Not only for listening and talking to me about my problems, or for patching me up, but also for caring enough to ask me if I was okay. That means a lot to me, Cass.”

  I could feel a wave of heat rising to my cheeks as I stared up at him. “It’s no problem. You’re my friend, Dylan, and that’s what friends do. They take care of each other.”

  He studied my face for a moment before smiling, wrapping his arms around my back, and pulling me into a hug.

  Without even thinking, I slid my arms around him and hugged him back.

  “I’m so lucky to have a pretend wife like you,” he muttered into my hair.

  I couldn’t help but giggle at that, but the giggle was short-lived when Jade’s words from earlier—about Dylan and I looking cute together—flashed through my mind. My pulse quickened as I found myself wondering, could she be right?

  No, she’s not right, I assured myself. But then Dylan’s hands began to slide lower on my back and suddenly I wasn’t so sure.

  “What are you guys doing in here?” Caitlyn asked, appearing in the doorway.

  Startled, I flew backward out of Dylan’s arms with such force, I hit the wall behind me. “Ow,” I mumbled as I felt a slight jab of pain where Dylan’s h
ands had just been.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “I’m fine.”

  Caitlyn glanced suspiciously from me to Dylan, and then back to me. “What’s going on?”

  “Injury,” I said. Realizing that probably made no sense to her, I pointed at Dylan’s hand and elaborated. “Wound. Hand wound. Fixed it.”

  It took everything I had to refrain from facepalming myself into unconsciousness. I couldn’t even speak in complete sentences, which was going to make Caitlyn even more suspicious than she already seemed to be.

  “Yeah,” Dylan agreed, holding up his hand to show her the bandage. “Your sister is good at patching people up.”

  Caitlyn crossed her arms over her chest and eyed his bandaged hand. “Okay. Well, are you two done yet? I’ve had a lot of Mountain Dew tonight.”

  “Oh! Yeah, we’re done.” I stepped aside and motioned to the toilet. “Have at it.”

  Caitlyn made a face at me. “Weirdo.”

  I couldn’t have agreed with her more.

  Dylan and I promptly left the room and Caitlyn slammed the door behind us.

  We exchanged a brief, uncomfortable glance before heading back toward the kitchen.

  “Well, I should get going,” he said. “My mom is probably worried about me. I stormed out of the house earlier without telling her where I was going or when I was planning on coming back.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  He glanced down at his injured hand. “Thanks again for this.”

  “No problem,” I said with a small smile. “Just promise me you won’t punch any more walls tonight.”

  He returned my smile with a lopsided grin. “I can’t promise anything. You never know what kind of bombshell my dad will drop next.”

  At that, his smile faded, and I found myself wanting to hug him all over again. Clearly, he was having a hard time dealing with the “bombshell” his dad already dropped on him tonight, and he had come over to my house for a reason. Because he needed a friend. There was no way I was going to let him leave just yet.

  “Hey,” I said, “if you’re not ready to go home, you can hang out here for a bit. We were just about to start a marathon of some cooking show Caitlyn’s obsessed with. We could order another pizza and—”

  “Another pizza?” came an excited squeal behind me. Caitlyn had emerged from the bathroom.

  “Yes, but only if Dylan stays.”

  Caitlyn turned to Dylan and clasped her hands together in prayer. “Please stay! Please! I want more pizza!” She paused. “Oh, and it would be cool to hang out with you, too.”

  “Nice save,” I said to her before turning to Dylan. “What do you say? You in?”

  He looked uncertain as he glanced between the two of us, but finally, his expression softened. “Yeah, I’m in.”

  “Awesome!” Caitlyn jumped up and down. “I’ll go put the order in!”

  “Order two, one with pepperoni,” I instructed as she disappeared into the living room. “We’re not all vegetarians like you.”

  Dylan chuckled. “Thanks for inviting me to stay.”

  “You’re welcome. I should check on your hand in a little bit anyway, to make sure it looks okay. You don’t want it to get infected.”

  “No, I don’t,” he agreed with a nod.

  We fell into uncomfortable silence as we waited for Caitlyn to return. Less than a minute later, she came bouncing back into the kitchen.

  “Pizza will be here in about thirty minutes,” Caitlyn informed us, and then grabbed a hold of Dylan’s sleeve. “Do you like cooking shows? If not, we can watch something else. But you should check this show out first. It’s called Baker’s Dozen, and it’s a cooking competition show. It’s so much fun to watch. My favorite contestant is Grant. He’s probably not going to win, especially after that compote he just made, but he’s got definite potential.”

  She began yanking Dylan toward the living room and while he willingly followed her, he did glance back at me over his shoulder with a frantic look that clearly read, help me!

  I just threw my hands in the air and shrugged as if to say there was nothing I could do to help as they both disappeared out of sight.

  I chuckled to myself as I opened the fridge and leaned down to grab a couple bottles of water. When I straightened back up and closed the door, I jumped when I saw Caitlyn had come back into the kitchen and was hiding behind it.

  “Caity, you scared me.”

  “Sorry. I just wanted another Mountain Dew. Can you hand me one?”

  “Sure.” I reopened the fridge, grabbed a can, and handed it to her.

  “Thanks.” She briefly glanced over her shoulder toward the living room, and then leaned toward me and whispered, “Are you going to date Dylan now?”

  I groaned inwardly at her question. “No, I’m not going to date Dylan now.”

  She considered my answer for a moment. “Too bad. He’s cute. I bet he’d make a great boyfriend.” She stared dreamily off into space for a few seconds before snapping out of it and heading back to the living room.

  Okay, something was wrong here. First Jade, and now Caitlyn? Why was everyone suddenly questioning whether there was something going on between me and Dylan?

  And how could I get them to stop?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “How is the search for my rebound boyfriend going?” I asked Lauren the next morning.

  “Funny you should ask,” she said, taking a book out of her locker. “Tiana called me last night and said she ran into some guys she knows from Ellsworth Prep, and they’re having a party tomorrow night at some rich kid’s mansion or something. She asked if you and I wanted to go with her. She said there are a couple of guys going who she would love to set us up with. I told her I’d talk to you about it first.”

  Ellsworth Prep was an elite private school only one town away. From what I had seen, the students there were all wealthy and beautiful, and from what I had heard, their parties were insane. Like cops-getting-called-to-break-it-up insane. Not my scene, but if I was looking for a rebound, I could do a lot worse than an Ellsworth Prep boy.

  “I don’t know…” I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. I was hoping she’d be able to find someone that I knew, or at least knew of, to be my rebound boyfriend. I wasn’t sure how I felt about going on a blind date with someone.

  “In case you’re worried, Tiana assured me the two guys she has in mind for us are crazy hot.”

  “I’m not worried,” I said. “I’ll have to think about it, though.”

  She was starting to say something when over her shoulder, I noticed Dylan walking toward his locker, and I tuned her out.

  He’d ended up staying over until my parents came home last night. By the time they walked through the front door, he and Caitlyn were both yelling at Grant through the TV, scolding him for making bread pudding in lieu of a more complex and original dessert. Caitlyn had somehow successfully sucked him into her favorite television show, and they’d already made plans to watch the finale together at the end of the month. By the time he left my house, you wouldn’t have known there was anything bothering him.

  But this morning was a different story. He was walking slower than usual, with his eyes glued to the floor. His hair was sticking up in a few places, like he’d just rolled out of bed and couldn’t be bothered to run a comb through it, and while I had to admit it was a good look on him, I knew it meant he was having a bad morning.

  “I’ll catch up with you later,” I blurted out, interrupting Lauren mid-sentence. I didn’t even wait for her to respond before jogging away to catch up with Dylan.

  “Hey,” I said, falling into stride next to him.

  He turned his head to look at me. “Hey.”

  “How’s everything going?” I asked him as we reached his locker.

  Up close, he looked even worse. He had dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept at all last night, and the dark stubble casting a five o
’clock shadow along his jawline indicated he didn’t care enough to shave this morning.

  “I’ve been better.” He put in the combination to his locker and then opened it. “My dad left again. He packed a few bags and is moving in temporarily with my uncle. Meanwhile, my mom is trying to put on a brave act, but I could hear her crying all night in her bedroom. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep.”

  I frowned. “Dylan, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, thanks, I’ll be fine. I just need a nap. But that’s what study hall is for, right?” He pulled a couple of books out of his backpack and traded them for different ones from his locker before slamming the door shut. With a sigh, he then leaned his back against it and turned to me. “So, what’s new with you?”

  “Not much. Lauren just asked if I wanted to go to a party tomorrow night.”

  Dylan looked confused. “Party? What party? I haven’t heard anything about a party tomorrow.”

  “That’s because it’s an Ellsworth Prep party.”

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Come again?”

  “It’s an Ellsworth Prep party. Tiana got invited, and she wants to bring me and Lauren. I guess there are a couple of guys she wants to set us up with.”

  Dylan inhaled sharply and shook his head. “Oh, no. You’re not going to an Ellsworth Prep party. No way.”

  At first, I thought maybe he was saying that as if he didn’t believe I was going to an Ellsworth Prep party. But then I noted the serious look on his face, the furrowed brow, and I realized he was basically telling me I couldn’t go. Like he had any say in whether I did or not.

  “Um, excuse me?”

  He pushed off his locker and loomed over me, staring down at me with hardened eyes. “Cass, you do not belong anywhere near an Ellsworth Prep party, and I strongly advise you against going.”

  I blinked up at him. “Why is that?”

  “Because I’ve been to some of those parties before, and they’re not nice. Bad things happen there.”

  “Bad things like what?”

  He raked a hand through his hair, managing to successfully tame it with one swipe. “Just…bad things, okay? And don’t even think about letting Tiana set you up with an Ellsworth Prep guy. They’re all dicks.”