Dylan

by Jo Raven

  “I see.” He didn’t call me yesterday to ask for help. Of course he didn’t. I’m the last person he wants to see. “No problem.”

  “Hey.” She sounds distracted. I wonder if she’s driving. “I told Dylan I could pick Miles up from school, but I just realized I’m teaching a new student at that time. Could you pick him up? If you don’t have classes. And if you don’t mind. I mean…”

  “I’m not going to class,” I mutter.

  “Why not?”

  Damn. “I… I’m thinking of dropping out of college. Listen,” I rush to say when Erin gasps in the phone, “I’ll pick Miles up. Just tell me the time.”

  “Tess…”

  “Please, Erin. Don’t wanna talk about college now.”

  With a sigh, she rattles the address and time off. “After you pick him up, take him to Dylan’s neighbors. Miles will spend the night there. Gotta go now. Talk to you later, and thanks a bunch!”

  She disconnects, and I stare at my cell.

  So much for Dylan being ancient history. So much for keeping away. For deciding I shouldn’t care. One word of trouble about him, and I’ll drop everything to help.

  No. It’s not the same. I’m just going to help with his brother. Nothing more. Just today.

  Worried and distracted, I grab my bag and go.

  ***

  My discovery of the day is that Miles looks a lot like Dylan. He’s a real miniature of his brother. He stops when he sees me waiting at the school gate and scowls.

  I wave and smile. It’s hard not to, in spite of his scowl. He’s frigging cute. He’ll break hearts when he grows up.

  Just like his older brother…

  “Hi, Miles,” I say when he approaches enough to hear me. “I’m here to take you home.”

  “Where’s Dylan?” he asks, still hostile.

  “At the hospital with your brother.”

  “And Erin? She was supposed to pick me up.”

  “Well, she has to work and asked me to do it.” I study his small face and say on impulse, “and I’m happy she did.”

  He eyes me skeptically as I lead the way to my jeep. “You are?” he finally mutters, as he climbs into the car.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  He says nothing for a while. He buckles himself in and clutches his backpack to him. “I thought you don’t like us,” he says as we drive away.

  That brings me up short. “What? Why would you think that?”

  “You never visit. Not like Dylan’s other friends.”

  I chew on my lower lip. “I would visit, if Dylan invited me.”

  He shoots me a wide-eyed look. “Why hasn’t he?”

  Oh man. “I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t like me.”

  “He likes you,” Miles says quietly, looking out the window. “He’s just stupid.”

  A snort escapes me. “You are something, aren’t you? That wasn’t nice to your brother.”

  “I mean he’s stupid if he told you he doesn’t like you.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “He has a photo of you on his bedroom wall. He sits and stares at it sometimes, and looks sad. I’ve seen him. Not that,” he hurries to add, “that I…”

  “That you spy on him?” I supply, stunned at what he’s telling me. Dylan has a photo of me on his wall? And he sits and stares at it?

  “Yeah, not that.” Miles still isn’t looking at me. “But I pass outside his door sometimes. You know.”

  I nod. This kid sounds like a grown-up. How is that possible? Is this what happens when your parents leave and your older brother raises you?

  But then he goes and spoils the illusion when he says, “Can we get chocolate ice cream before we go home?”

  How can I say no? So I drive Miles to an ice cream parlor—he gives me directions—and we settle back into the jeep as he licks his towering cone. Suddenly I wonder if he’ll get stomachache from this much ice cream, or…

  “Have you had lunch?”

  He shrugs. “Not yet.”

  Shit. “You tricked me, didn’t you?”

  “You’re an adult. You should know better.” He winks, and again he’s so much like Dylan my chest aches.

  “Fool me once…” I mutter as I start the engine.

  “Does that mean you’ll be picking me up from school again?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

  I freeze. Does it? “I don’t know. Maybe until your brother gets better, and Dylan has time.”

  “Dylan doesn’t have a car. I ride home on the bus.”

  “And why not today?”

  He says nothing for a while, eating his ice cream, and I think he won’t answer. But then he says, “There are these kids from a few streets up who like to beat me up sometimes.”

  “Why?”

  “They called me an orphan once, and I beat them up. So they brought their friends, and now they wait for me.”

  Jesus.

  “Dylan wants to be there, but he has to work, so…” He shrugs again, and my chest now aches for a whole new different reason.

  “I’m sorry, Miles.”

  “It’s not so bad,” he says, and I clench my teeth.

  “Dylan wouldn’t be worried if it wasn’t bad.”

  He says nothing.

  We reach the house and stop at the gate. God, the place looks terrible, run-down, the yard taken over my tall weeds. I haven’t been here in years.

  Miles glances at me, then starts working on his cone. It doesn’t look like he wants to get out. “It’s not so bad,” he says after a moment.

  “No?”

  “Dylan does all he can.” His face is serious when he says this. “Sometimes I’m mad with him. I think he forgets about me. But I think he’s just tired.”

  Tired. Taking care of two kids with problems and working would do that to anyone. No wonder he dropped out of college. “And your dad?”

  “He’s never here anymore.”

  I want to hug the boy but don’t dare, not when his gaze is still full of suspicion. He barely knows me. “Dylan loves you very much.”

  “I know,” he says solemnly. “He told me.”

  Something he told me back when we were together at fourteen and I believed him. What a fool I’ve been.

  Numb, I watch as the neighbor comes out and waves at us. Miles thanks me and says something about the ice cream, and I wave back distractedly. I watch him go, watch the guy from next door grab Miles around the shoulders and walk him into his house.

  Then I do a U-turn and start back toward my apartment—toward the decisions I have to make about my life.

  ***

  Mom calls me as I drive, and I debate not answering, but in the end I decide I should.

  “Honey,” she says, her voice barely audible over the phone. “Your father said you passed by the office today.”

  Was it only this morning? It feels like years have passed. “What do you want, Mom? If you’re calling to change my mind about anything, forget it.”

  There’s a long pause, and I swallow my irritation. Mom has always been my father’s puppet, his mouthpiece, and I’m not in the mood, not after what I heard today.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” she says, and for some reason that makes me snap.

  “For what? For manipulating me into accepting to go to the gala so that Dad could pass me on to Sean?”

  “Did Sean treat you badly?”

  God, how often have I told them this? “Yes, he did.”

  “I’m so sorry, Tessa.”

  The hell she is. “Is it true you know about Dad having an affair?” She doesn’t answer, and I don’t know how I feel about this. “How long has this been going on?”

  “A while,” she says quietly.

  “And you’re okay with it? I thought you loved Dad.”

  “No, honey. I’m not sure I ever did.” And then she says, her voice shaking, “I have to go now.”

  She disconnects, leaving me shocked, wiser, angry and sad. How can you live with someone you don’t love for twenty
years?

  Well… Maybe like I lived for nineteen years trying to please people who can’t be pleased. Maybe my mom and I aren’t so different after all, and the realization is damn scary.

  As I pass in front of my building, I check, and the car that looked like Sean’s is gone. Reassured, I drive into the underground parking lot. I’m preparing to park, when my cell rings again, and I connect the call.

  “What now, Mom?” I say as I turn off the engine. “You don’t love Dad, we established that. Or are you going to tell me again how sorry you are?”

  A silence follows, and I frown.

  Then a very male and familiar voice says, “Tessa?”

  I grapple for words. “Dylan? Is that you?”

  “Yeah. Is this a bad time?”

  “No. Not at all.” Can’t remember the last time Dylan called me. I didn’t even know he had my number. “Is everything okay?”

  “What? Oh, right. Yeah. Listen…” He moves away from the phone, speaking to someone in the background, then returns. “Thanks for picking Miles up from school. That’s really nice of you.”

  My heart skips a beat. “You’re welcome. He’s a nice little man.”

  “He is.” I can hear a faint smile in Dylan’s voice but also a whole lot of exhaustion. “He says he forgot his favorite pen in your car.”

  “He did?” I don’t remember Miles taking anything out of his backpack, but I can’t swear he didn’t. “I’ll have a look.”

  “Awesome. You know how kids are with things like that.”

  Actually, I don’t, but I don’t say it. “Hey, Miles said there are some street kids that beat him up sometimes?”

  “He told you that? Damn.” He sighs. “Yeah. It’s a tough neighborhood.”

  Poor kid. I don’t want him to get bullied again, but what can I do?

  I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Are you going home soon? How’s Teo?”

  “Uh, we’re not going home yet.” The exhaustion is back, thinning his voice. “The doctors say he’s got Lyme disease. Transmitted by ticks. From the garden weeds. He liked to play there in the summer, said it was his jungle. I didn’t know…” His voice cracks, and my chest gives a funny little twinge. “An infected tick bit him. It’s my fault he’s sick.”

  Guilt. I know a lot about guilt. I could write a book about it. “You couldn’t know, Dyl. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

  “It doesn’t matter. His fever’s down, but they’re keeping him another day. He got off easy. No long-term side effects, it seems, though he has to take antibiotics for a month.”

  Thank God. I heave a sigh of relief. “That’s great. You did good, Dyl. You took care of him, and he’ll be fine.”

  “I wish I knew what the hell I’m doing,” he mutters, and he sounds bad. He sounds defeated. “Since Dad left, I feel like… I can’t catch up.”

  “You’re doing great,” I say, my chest too tight.

  “I don’t know. Since Teo started getting sick, and Miles bullied, and I lost my scholarship… It’s all going to hell.”

  God, this is dangerous ground. He’s just venting his frustration, and I’m falling for him all over again.

  Don’t go there, Tessa.

  “I can help out tomorrow. I can take Miles to school and pick him up again when he’s done.”

  “Really?” Relief colors his voice now. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thank you. Tess, I…” He clears his throat. “I’ll see you around.”

  Chapter Eight

  Dylan

  My thoughts are on Tessa as I return to Teo’s side and settle in for the night. My joints ache, and I wonder if I’m developing arthritis at the advanced age of nineteen, and whether popping Advil like candies is likely to do any permanent damage to my organs. But right now I need to be able to function¸ so that’s that.

  Charlie and Kate told me Miles ate dinner and did his homework and is now watching TV. I think about my brother as I sit there, staring at the bare wall of the hospital room. Miles didn’t just tell me about the pen he left in her car. He said Tessa bought him ice cream and talked with him. That she’s nice, and pretty.

  Yeah, as if I wasn’t aware of that…

  I’m surprised Miles liked her so easily, though. He’s suspicious with people he doesn’t know well, and he hasn’t seen Tessa more than a handful of times in his lifetime.

  Tessa… Her image flashes in my mind, and warmth spreads through my chest. If I could love anyone in the world, it would be her.

  Damn.

  I shouldn’t be thinking of her. Hell, I shouldn’t be here, at the hospital, I should be at work. The gym secretary where I work warned me that if it happens again, I can kiss my job goodbye.

  As if I’d leave Teo here alone.

  The hours pass slowly. Despite the noise of other children crying and people talking, I’m so wiped out, I keep falling asleep where I sit, by Teo’s bed. The nurses wake me when they come and go, checking his vitals. They assure me he’s doing okay. They tell me I can go home, that they’ll look after him.

  I refuse. Not leaving my little brother. He’s already been abandoned by both our parents. He’ll freak out if he wakes up, and I’m not there.

  Dawn finally breaks, and I go in search of coffee, hoping it will lift the fog off my brain. I’d inject the stuff directly into my veins if I could. Even after the second bitter cup I’m still bleary-eyed and light-headed.

  Fucking awesome.

  Zane calls to say he’s dropping by to stay with Teo for a couple of hours, so I can go home, shower and change. That’s great, although the thought of riding the bus home and then back here only to head out again after midday is killing me.

  Maybe I need some vitamins and energy drinks. Hell, an adrenaline shot to the heart might work.

  The day goes by in a blur. I shamble like a zombie between the hospital and work, where my boss asks me if I’ve been drinking. No wonder. I must look like shit.

  I slog through the afternoon, then head back to the hospital. I feel as if I’m caught in the cogs of a nightmare, repeating through every day and night. Finally the doctors grudgingly declare Teo fit to leave, and Erin drives us home.

  “You okay, Dylan?” she asks, glancing at me sideways as she parks in front of our house. “You look beat.”

  “Been better.” I climb out of the car and open the car to get Teo out, wincing as my joints protest in spite of the pills. I feel old. Way too old. “Thanks, Erin.”

  “Anything you need, you let us know,” she says and smiles, and I smile back.

  She’s kind, but I can’t keep asking. She’s skipping work to be here, and she has Tyler and her own son to take care of. How can I draw them into my shitty life?

  As she drives away, I stare at the overgrown weeds of the yard, where the deadly ticks are hiding, and scowl. I have to mow it all and spray. I have to… have to do so many things.

  I heft Teo in my arms, bundled in a blanket, and for the first time ever he seems heavy, so heavy I’m afraid I might drop him.

  What the hell? I stagger down the path to the house, sweat trickling down my back. I feel like shit. What’s up with that?

  A honk makes me turn, and I weave a little. Probably lack of sleep and real food, I decide, as I blink to clear the haze from my eyes.

  A white jeep has arrived—and Miles jumps out of it, a huge smile on his face. Then Tessa steps out, and my mind blanks out completely.

  Whoa. How does she do it—how can she be prettier every time I look at her? Her dark coat molds to her narrow waist, the flare of her hips, and her long blond hair is loose, tumbling around her heart-shaped face.

  She starts walking toward me. She smiles, and I swear my heart stops for a moment.

  So goddamn sexy. So bright, like the sun.

  Her smile falters when she looks into my eyes, but then Miles grabs her hand and pulls her toward us. Looks like the girl’s got herself a groupie.

  Miles really likes her. Still ca
n’t wrap my mind around it.

  And what’s there not to like? the usual grumpy voice in my head counters. Just because you decided you can’t and shouldn’t doesn’t mean others won’t be more than happy to have her.

  The sting in my chest from the thought is becoming a regular occurrence. Damn.

  “Come inside,” Miles is saying, and Tessa is resisting.

  “Your brothers are tired. They want to rest.”

  “No, they’re not. We have chocolate cake. It’s very good.”

  She laughs. Like bells on a Christmas morning, I think randomly, and my whole body is leaning toward her—kinda awkward when you’re holding a six-year-old in your arms.

  “I couldn’t find his pen,” she says, her gaze dipping.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  She shakes her head, bites her lip, and God, I want to kiss her.

  “We shouldn’t be standing here, in the weeds,” she finally says and lets Miles drag her toward the house, past Teo and me. “There may be more infected ticks.”

  Damn, she’s right. I wonder why I didn’t think of this, why I can’t get my brain to function. Is it because she’s around or because of the fatigue that plagues me day in and day out?

  I follow her inside, kick the door closed and sigh with pleasure to finally be out of the cold. Not that the heating is working properly.

  Teo is asleep, a dead weight in my arms, and I carry him to his bed. It’s unmade, the way we left it Sunday—was it Sunday? Can’t fucking remember—when we left in a hurry for the hospital. I take off his shoes and jacket, and he shivers as I cover him up with his cartoon-themed quilt.

  Yet his forehead feels cool when I touch it, and the relief is overwhelming. I pat his bag of pills and the prescription in my pocket and ruffle his hair. He snuggles under the covers and sleeps on.

  “You’ll be fine,” I tell him softly and leave the room, closing the door behind me.

  Now to deal with the fact that Tess, beautiful, perfect and out-of-reach Tessa, is in my shithole of a house for the first time. If this doesn’t send her running…

  Hey, it has to happen, sooner or later. Besides, isn’t that what I want? Send her running away from me, before the sinkhole that’s my life sucks her down?