by Piper Lawson
“Stop. First, that’s the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard. Second, that is my sister you’re talking about.”
“Fine. But what I’m saying is she’s gorgeous. And charismatic. And obviously interested.” I glanced over to the counter. My words were punctuated by the sound of Ava laughing musically at whatever Kent had said. “What’s not to like?”
Dylan selected another fry and held it up like he was inspecting it. The fry must’ve passed the test, as he bit into it and looked back to me, thoughtful. “What’s not to like about you? Sure, you have more sarcasm per square inch than any other mammal.” His eyes flicked over me just casually enough that I managed not to twitch. “But if a guy can survive that, the rest isn’t bad.”
I threw a fry at him. My baser instincts. Dylan caught it, grinning.
Though I’d gotten compliments from guys before, I was a bit uncomfortable with the idea of someone being into me based on looks alone. Kiss with Dylan aside, it wasn’t normal for me to have burn-you-both-up chemistry with another person.
“You really think Kent’s interested in me?” The thought seemed ludicrous. I glanced back up toward the till. I noticed Dylan was eyeing me up.
“What if he is?” He asked. “Won’t that put a kink in your whole no-guys policy?”
“Meh,” I joked. “Zero plus or minus one … still pretty close to no guys. Statistically speaking.”
He didn’t laugh, but he did check his watch.
“I have to go.” He sounded a bit reluctant as he dropped some cash on the table. “Do you need a ride?” I did, but Dylan hadn’t said where he was going and I didn’t even know if I was on the way. I didn’t want to put him out as it felt like he’d been driving us around all week.
“I can take them.” Kent and Ava had just returned from the till. She was still within easy reach of him, but he was looking at me.
Dylan’s eyes flicked from me to Kent and back, processing. In the end he just shrugged. “Sure. Later.”
Kent drove us home in his jeep. When I asked about Dylan’s hasty departure, he explained. “Dylan’s going out with Marcia Adams tonight. She’s a junior, cheerleading co-captain. Big fish for a soph. All the guys in the house want to … ah, date her,” he said, shifting uncomfortably when he realized he was talking to two females. He smiled apologetically.
Dear God. It was like high school all over again. I wondered whether she was one of the girls Dylan had mentioned when we first ran into each other. Kent said he’d only seen her around the house once, that she was in her cheerleading uniform and that Rick knew her from football. Apparently Rick’s biggest complaint was that she hadn’t let him in her pants, though not for lack of trying.
For some reason it surprised me that Dylan would be after the same girl all the other jock-types, including guys like Rick, were into. The more I spent time with him, the more it seemed was going on below the surface. While I hadn’t met Marcia, if she was friends with Rick I was willing to bet she had the intellectual range of a Chia Pet.
I was still distracted by my musings when we pulled up in front of the house. Thanking Kent for the ride, I hopped out of the jeep first, leaving him and Ava to whatever they would or wouldn’t do.
Chapter 10
“Lex. Do you have my laptop?” Ava’s strained voice came down the phone line Thursday afternoon. I finished class at four thirty and had just caught the bus home, opening the front door just as my cell rang.
“Ah … no.” Some days I thought Ava would lose her head if it wasn’t attached. I set down my bag and closed the door behind me so I could focus on the conversation. “When did you have it last? What happened?”
“Ugh. I don’t know, Lex. I had it yesterday. I’m at school now and think I remember bringing it this morning. What if it got stolen?” I could practically hear her chewing her lip over the phone. “Shit, shit, shit … And I need it tonight for class too.”
“That’s awful. What can I do?”
“Can I borrow yours?”
“You know I’d do anything for you, A. But I need mine to prep a presentation for tomorrow. Maybe I can spare it for an hour though, or use one in the library …”
“OK. I’m asking a few other people. Just texted Emily but haven’t heard anything.”
Kicking off my shoes, I padded upstairs with the phone still to my ear. No Emily, but the door at the end of the hall was ajar. I stuck my head in.
Jen was stretched out on her stomach on the floor with a book open in front of her. Scratch that. On closer inspection I realized she was holding herself up in a plank on her elbows and toes, hovering just a few inches off the carpet.
“Hey, Jen, can Ava borrow your computer tonight? Hers went missing again.” Jen glanced toward the door, no strain evident from the core workout. The girl had abs of steel. I was totally envious but also nowhere near willing to put the work in.
She rolled her eyes as if to say seriously? Then just as she opened her mouth Ava started talking in my ear.
“Wait, Dylan just wrote back. He can lend me his but he’s in lab. Can you bring it by?” After four, parking was free on campus, and my car was now fixed.
“Um—” I checked my watch “—sure. What time?”
“You’re a lifesaver. As soon as you can.” She named the building and room and I clicked off.
“You’re off the hook,” I said to Jen.
“Thank goodness.” Her perky voice was relieved, though I could hear the strain at the edges. I wondered how long she’d been holding that for. “You know I love her, but if I lent that girl more than a pair of socks I’d probably regret it.”
I pulled into campus ten minutes later and parked in the lot behind the building Ava had mentioned. It was a newer one, redone about five years ago, and housed most of the chemistry department.
I hadn’t been in the building before, but the map inside the front door told me where to find lab 214. The stairs took me to the second floor and a long hall lined with photos of various classes. A glass display case at one end held more photos and trophies. It looked more like a prep school hall than a science building. We must have generous science alum.
The door to room 214 was open and I peeked in. About twenty students were working in pairs at lab benches. It looked like they were titrating something. Most had gloves on but some were taking notes. I glanced around the room. I didn’t have to look far before my eyes stopped.
Dylan was easily the tallest guy in the room. Wearing jeans and a polo under his lab apron, he’d obviously been dubbed the notetaker rather than the titrator as he wasn’t wearing gloves. He was perched on a stool with one foot resting on the rungs. He was focused on what was happening in a large beaker, tapping his pencil absently on the top of one knee. It was the same look of concentration he’d had when he was fixing my car. Like he was so absorbed nothing could have snapped him out of it.
His lab partner, a short red-haired guy, noticed my stare. He looked up and gestured to Dylan, whose eyes immediately went to the door. My breath lodged in my throat for a second when he smiled my favorite smile—the genuine one. Then he motioned me over.
“Lex, this is Gary,” he introduced me. Gary looked a bit star-struck, though it wasn’t clear why. My wavy hair was doing its usual thing down my back. I didn’t look like a total slob but was still casual in dark jeans, boots, a black T-shirt and the moto jacket I’d bought in New York. It was a bit tougher than my usual look, but what could I say, Dylan’s car-fixing getup had inspired me.
“Is she your …” Gary turned to Dylan, eyes still a bit wide.
“Yeah. Now if you could just move the hydrochloric acid, we’re going to go at it on the lab bench.” Dylan responded smoothly.
I tried not to blush at the visual Dylan’s comment had inspired. Poor Gary. I hadn’t thought his eyes could get wider.
“Lex is a friend.” Dylan rustled around in his book bag and produced a shiny MacBook Air. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, setting the power co
rd on top as he handed it to me with pleading eyes. “Tell her whatever she does, do not lose this one.”
“I’ll do my best.” I smiled and turned to walk to the door. He moved to follow me out.
I turned at the doorway to face him when something occurred to me. “When do you need it back? Tomorrow?”
“Nah, she can have it until Monday. The guys and I are going to TJ for the weekend.”
The smile evaporated off my face.
“You’re going to Tijuana? With your roommates?” I chewed my lip and wondered how much I was overstepping. “Is that a good idea?”
“Why not?” A cocky grin curved his lips. “Because you’ll miss me?”
I didn’t return the smile. “No, Dylan. Because you wanted a fresh start here? Because you’re a scholarship student?” I glanced around before adding quietly, “Because at your last school everyone went postal because they heard you’d gone to rehab?”
“I’m not going there to party, Lex.”
“Really? You expect Tijuana to be character-building?”
He lifted a shoulder, suddenly looking defensive.
“Because I’m pretty sure Rick isn’t going to make piñatas.” My voice was sharp.
“We’re just going to hang out. Unwind a little bit. Get off campus.” He held up his hands. “It’s no big deal.”
The more I knew about him, the more important it had seemed that he was starting fresh. And booze, single-minded guys, and possibly drugs didn’t feel like a great way to reinforce that. I wondered whether part of me selfishly wanted to keep him away from the partying and everything that could go with it, but decided it was more about him than me.
“You are just getting settled here, just making friends, and you seem happy to be letting go of some of your baggage.”
“Lex, just … back off. You’re not my sister and you don’t need to tell me what to do.” His voice had an edge to it I didn’t understand.
“No, I’m your friend and I care about you. I don’t want to see you do anything that might hurt you, or your reputation.” I was being more than a little unreasonable, but something felt wrong. I wasn’t sure why I had trouble letting it go.
He stared at me for a moment before running a hand through his hair. “Just tell Ava I need it back Monday.” Dylan turned away from me.
A couple of other students had glanced our direction. In my peripheral vision I could see Gary watching us as if we were a real life soap opera. If my face showed any of the frustration I was feeling, he wouldn’t have been disappointed.
I gave into the very childish desire to test the toes of my boots, kicking the doorframe in frustration on the way out. It was partly for Gary, mostly for me.
I dropped the notebook off to a sweating Ava. “Oh, thank God. You’re the best.”
“It was all Dylan.” I didn’t bother passing along the comment not to break the computer, but did share the one about timing.
“He’s going to Mexico for the weekend?” Ava rolled her eyes. “Typical. I keep waiting for this good-guy thing to crack. I love my brother, Lex, but last year was a fluke. He’ll be back into old habits in no time.”
Chapter 11
The weekend was busy with schoolwork and Travesty stuff with Ava. Her computer thankfully materialized on Friday under a pile of clothes and notions in her room. She had the decency to look contrite when she found it.
I didn’t think much about Dylan’s weekend in Mexico. I left the house before he came to drive Ava to school Monday because I wasn’t ready to be regaled with stories of partying. Or to have him avoid the subject and leave me guessing what he’d been doing for the last seventy-two hours.
Dylan’s text came in the middle of law class.
Need your help… It’s an emergency
Get busted at the border?
Very funny… can you just come over?
Still in class
What’s wrong?
It can wait until tonight
OK I’ll come by later
He had piqued my curiosity. Despite the harsh words we’d exchanged the other day, I still wanted to see him.
Classes ended at five that day, which gave me time for a quick treadmill run. It did feel good to move my butt after the long hours in class. At home, I showered and threw on some jeans and a black T-shirt. As a small concession, I blow dried my hair and put on some lip gloss. I looked less fashionista than Stanford grad, but no future investors or Fashion Television reporters would be trolling the streets tonight.
I drove to Dylan’s and pulled up at the curb. The big house had a double-wide driveway in which Dylan’s and another car were parked.
Knocking on the door didn’t yield anything, so I let myself in. Voices were coming from the kitchen at the back of the house.
“Hey, Lex.” Kent and another guy I didn’t know, introduced as Brock, were seated at the table when I came in, and we talked for a few minutes. By Kent’s interest and the way Brock kept looking between us, I assumed nothing was going to happen with Kent and Ava. Too bad, because she’d spent the whole night after dinner talking about how she had always wanted to hook up with a surfer. She’d even dragged me shopping for rash guards. I didn’t bother reminding her that she’d quit swimming lessons in third grade because she didn’t like how the salt dried out her skin.
I heard feet on the stairs, and Dylan appeared in the kitchen doorway a few moments later.
“What’s the emergency?” I asked, pushing off the counter. “Come on, Dylan. You’re taking me away from the compelling world of incorporation law.” He grabbed my hand and proceeded to pull me upstairs without a word of explanation.
“See you, Lex!” Kent called after me. I waved over my shoulder.
Dylan dragged me into his room and closed the door. He stood there, watching me, as if unsure of where to start.
I broke the ice. “How was TJ? Bring me anything?”
“It was good. And no. I didn’t think you were a sombrero kind of girl.”
I didn’t laugh.
“Listen, I know you don’t like it. But I did want to say thank you. For … I don’t know. Caring enough that it bothered you.”
And despite my intentions, the irritation started to fall away.
“You’re welcome.”
I hadn’t heard from him in four days, which wouldn’t have seemed like a lot only a few weeks ago but did now. Part of me wanted to ask for the details of his weekend, but I worried about what would happen if I heard something I didn’t like.
“So what’s the big emergency?” I cleared a spot for myself on the bottom corner of his bed. Sat down and crossed my legs.
He followed my lead, sitting opposite me. “I need to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“It’s a bit outside the scope of our friendship. But I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” What did that even mean?
“Dylan, there’s nothing you can ask me that would be weird.” Maybe I was being a bit cavalier, wanting to prove a point. To which of us, I wasn’t sure.
“OK good.” His eyes relaxed but I could still see a muscle working in his jaw. “In that case, do you remember the conversation we had at your party?”
My heart started beating a little faster. Traitor. “Vaguely. What part of it?”
“Not the kiss,” he said, as if to reassure me our forgetting about it was still in place. “The sex part.” He looked at me as if waiting for a response.
I arched an eyebrow. No, I totally forgot about that. “I guess?”
He had some serious five o’clock shadow going on. It made him look older than usual. “So I went out with this girl last week. And we were … kissing.” His voice dropped on the last word.
I ignored the little pang of something in my side. It was left over from running. Being out of shape did that to a person.
“I’m pretty sure she was into it,” he went on. Did she have a vagina? Then probably. “And when things started to … go further, I stopped it.�
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An image of him with some girl appeared, unwanted, in my brain. I tried to focus on the humor of the situation instead of the visual of her tongue down his throat. It bothered me that I needed to, and that I couldn’t.
“So let me get this straight. You went out with this girl. You like her. She likes you. Now you’re worried about sex?”
“Not worried. I just…want it to be good, you know?”
I was already regretting my earlier comment about being willing to talk about anything.
Still, wasn’t this what I wanted? For him to be so unaffected by me? Yes. No.
Dylan seemed to sense my hesitation. I hoped he was ignorant of the full-on tug-of-war taking place in my brain, the reason for it.
He leaned back on arms corded with muscle, eyes on mine. Despite the casual posture, undercurrents of something I couldn’t decipher ran through his gaze. An intensity that felt out of place given our conversation about him and some faceless girl.
I was having trouble keeping my eyes on his face and not on the muscles in his arms that held him up. Or the way his shirt stretched across his chest. Or—
“Just tell me what I should do.” Dylan’s words hauled me back to reality. His voice was still low but steady. “Not the sex ed version, the …” he glanced down at the bedspread as he grasped for words “… editorialized version.” Those bottomless eyes pulled me in with a question, trapped me with something else. Something that burned darker.
“You want me to tell you how to be awesome at sex?” I found my voice but the words came out slowly, like I was talking to a five year old.
He nodded, eyes locked on mine. They held a question, and a challenge.
“What makes it good? What do girls want?” Dylan continued, his engineer’s brain trying to analyze, while my brain was fast-tracking past logic and toward darker places.
I shrugged but he refused to let me off the hook.
“What would you want?”