by Lily Foster
Maybe Val was right but she was starting to irk me. And I was feeling this oddly protective feeling over Dylan. “Come on, Valerie, let’s not over dramatize this. He’s not some Svengali and I’m not a blind, mindless female, ok?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I know but I can make my own decisions. I like him and I might go out with him again if he asks.”
She looked apologetic then. “I’m sorry, Kasia. I guess you could be right. I mean, maybe there’s another side to Dylan. Maybe you bring out a better side of him.”
“After what happened with Ethan, don’t worry, I’m going into everything with my eyes wide open. I’ll be fine.”
Trish and Bernadette trailed in then, both looking hung-over. Trish drawled, “I need some greasy food—stat. Let’s go to Burger Den.”
As we sat eating lunch, I was dying to find out what went down last night but I didn’t want to seem overly eager in front of Val. After Dylan dropped me off I’d assumed he went back to the party at his house and I knew Bernie and Trish had been there. “What were you girls drinking last night? You both look like you’re in pain.”
Bernadette grimaced. “I was sampling all sorts of cocktails last night and I think I also drank beer…that’s never a good idea.”
Valerie started digging for details, either on my behalf or to prove to me that with Dylan, I was in over my head. “So anything crazy happen over there last night?”
“Standard frat party,” Trish yawned. She brightened a little then. “Oh, Kasia, your knight in shining armor was digging for info on you.”
“Huh?” I played dumb.
“Dylan Cole, remember? He wanted to know all sorts of things about you.”
“Like what?”
She looked like she was racking her brain. “I don’t remember exactly.”
“God, Trish, I hope you didn’t tell him anything awful or embarrassing.”
Eyes wide, truly hurt, she said, “I would never!”
“I know. Forget it.”
Bernadette chimed in then, “I definitely think he likes you, Kasia, but,” she looked wary before she went on, “what’s up with Melanie Pierce? I know she’s Christian’s girlfriend and all but I don’t know…she hangs all over Dylan, right in front of Christian. I get this weird feeling that they both…that they’re like, sharing her.”
Valerie popped a fry into her mouth as she looked away from me. “That’s gross but… wouldn’t put it past her…or him.”
Trish chirped, “Nope. He’s definitely looking to get with Kasia.”
The hurt and embarrassment I felt was ridiculous, being that not so much as a kiss had happened between us. I knew in that second, though, that I was closing the book on him. With him I would be in over my head. I acted as cool and unaffected as I could manage as I said, “Well, that won’t be happening.”
I didn’t hear from him and I was glad for it. I didn’t want to play that flirty game with him anymore. I just wanted to focus on my designs, classes, and life without Dylan Cole.
It had been nearly a week when, as I made my way to my Thursday afternoon class, I felt a commanding hand clasp onto my shoulder and turned to see an out-of-breath Dylan smiling down at me. “Shit, Kasia, you walk fast. I’ve been chasing after you since you left lower campus.”
I was not going to let him draw me in. Indifferently, I said, “What’s up, Dylan?”
He looked a little wounded by my tone. “Um, same old thing, I guess. I did start practices this week so I’ve been busy with that. Hey, I was wondering if we could grab dinner again tomorrow night.”
“Sorry, I’ve got plans with the girls tomorrow night. Can’t make it.”
He shook his head slowly and looked to the ceiling, taking in a deep breath before looking back at me. “Kasia, are you mad at me for some reason?”
“No.”
“Ok, then what’s with the ice princess act?”
Crap. Figures he’d be the type to call me out. I really didn’t know what I was going to say so I stalled. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged. “You seem like you’re mad at me. I just want to know why.”
“Look, Dylan, I had a nice time with you last week, really. It’s just that I don’t want this to go any further, ok?”
“No, not ok, but can you at least tell me why?”
“I’m not what you’re used to and I can guarantee I’m not who you want.”
He was suddenly angry. “What kind of girl do I want, if you know me so well?”
“Your usual…someone beautiful, willing, and…ok with the fact that you’ll use them and discard them.”
His tall frame hunched over, just slightly, like I’d struck him. “Why would you say that, Kasia?”
“Look, my aim isn’t to hurt you. I do like you, Dylan, but I’m not going to be with you. You may not have noticed me before this year but I have seen you. I’ve seen things that make me sure that this,” I motioned between us, “would never work.”
For a solid minute, which seemed like an eternity, he stood staring at a space on the wall where he was now using the edge of one of his keys to bore a hole into it. His jaw was clenched.
He looked pained but then a cool, stoic expression took over. I was glad for this. If he had looked or said anything to make it seem like he was torn up over this, I would have known for certain that I was being played. He wasn’t the overly-emotional type and anything but the icy, distant expression that was forming on his face now would have screamed “bullshit”.
He didn’t meet my gaze when he said quietly, “All right then,” as he walked past me.
I watched him walk away. He was taller than most so his head was clearly visible as he walked the entire length of Spencer Hall. I saw him fist his hair hard with one hand, seemingly in frustration, and then, as he made his way down the corridor his posture straightened, he raked his hand through his hair to straighten it, and then gave his head one vigorous shake. He was shaking me off, I supposed. It’s what I wanted but it left me with a hollowed-out feeling.
Dylan
I wanted to ask her what, exactly, she’d seen that made her so certain I wasn’t worthy of her. I knew, though, that it could have been one of a million different things. Hell, if she was my sister I’d make sure she wasn’t within ten miles of me. I’d live. Getting hung up on her, actually sad about the loss of just the possibility of being with her, was ridiculously stupid. She was beautiful but so were more than half the girls on this campus. I wasn’t about to get strung along simply because she was denying me. The whole “wanting what you can’t have” thing? No, I wasn’t going to be letting any girl lead me around by my manhood.
It was Thursday, late afternoon and suddenly I needed to start the weekend ASAP. I thought about smoking a bowl when I got back to the house but I decided that mellow wasn’t what I needed. I walked in to find Matt, Kurt, Christian, some underclassmen and a few stragglers flopped on the couches. I announced, “I haven’t been laid in two weeks. I know for some of you fucktards that’s nothing but for me it’s a dry spell of epic proportions. Needs to be rectified.” I looked at two freshmen and a sophomore. “Clean the first floor and then you’re in charge of booze. See Christian for the cash.” Then I looked to Christian and Justin. “Start reaching out.”
I knew within an hour that anyone worth knowing on campus would hear about our place tonight. I put in a call to my supplier, whose brother fronted a good local band with a hot back-up singer. We were set.
By ten, our place was packed with the overflow spreading into the front and backyards. This was just what I needed. Kasia who? I surveyed the scene as I nursed a beer. More beautiful women here than any man could hope for, the sweet aroma of weed wafting through the house, and the band was cranking; I was pleased and it was time to join the fun. Kurt was lining up shots of whiskey and I knocked back two in quick succession. Since I was fourteen, sneaking the stuff from my dad’s study, I loved the way it burned at first and then crept down, warm
and enveloping, oozing into my system. I snuck up to my room quickly then and took out the stash that I rarely broke into. One line, I told myself. I wanted that extra buzz. I needed it tonight to fake the energy and charisma required to lure in some girl other than Kasia. I knew I needed someone tonight. As I was walking out of my room I reconsidered and went back in for one more line.
I walked, no bounced, down the stairs and stopped a few feet from the bottom to survey the scene. I saw several sure things but tonight I wanted to prove to myself that I could bag a challenge. Towards the make-shift stage I saw Isabelle, a dark haired beauty with a smoking body who just happened to be practically engaged to the star pitcher on our division-one baseball team. Perfect. Even better that he was here with at least five of his buddies. The odds were against me, making it my favorite kind of challenge.
I’d been getting off on this type of thing since I was sixteen, hell bent on proving something to my father. It was really more like a passive-aggressive way to get back at him. Didn’t matter that he never found out about it; the fact that I knew was enough.
“Isabelle, what’s up with that boyfriend of yours? Look at him over there sucking back shots with his boys. I’d never leave you unattended. Half the men at this party are thinking about what it would be like to run their hands over that fine ass of yours.”
She drawled, “Jesus, Dylan, I could come just listening to that mouth of yours.”
I’m in, I thought. I leaned in and whispered, “Meet me upstairs in five, Isabelle. No one will ever know.”
She let out a laugh—no, a guffaw. “You weren’t serious were you?” When she took in my expression, hers changed. Shit, she looked hurt. Gimme a break. “Dylan, do you really think I’m one of those stupid girls that go for your bullshit?” Then her look turned angry. “Ohmigod, I actually thought we were cool, that you were a friend of mine. You’re such an ass, Dylan. Just please, get away from me.”
“I’m sorry, Isabelle, forgive me. Really, that was a shitty move.”
She wasn’t buying the apology and I wasn’t in the mood to grovel. I turned to walk away and ran right into Val, who looked like she’d just hit the lottery with a shit-eating grin across her smug face. “That was priceless.”
I nodded towards the stairs. “Are you hoping for an invite now that Isabelle’s out of the picture?”
She flipped me the bird. “I’d rather contract herpes. Come to think of it, I most likely would get an STD if I got with you.”
“Who knew you were such a bitter little cunt, Val.”
She rolled her eyes, nonplussed; the foulest word didn’t even shock her. “Wow, Kasia really did miss out on a chance with the handsome prince, didn’t she? Look at you, all tooted up. Even have a little stray glitter on your collar, you slob. How could you ever think that someone like you would be appealing to her?”
I don’t know if it was the combination of shots and drugs but it didn’t feel like I was talking to Val anymore; she was now my inner voice, castigating me. Why would Kasia be interested in me? I was rich… smart, I guess. Feeling down on myself, I thought, that’s about all I had going for me. After a moment, though, my arrogance rose up. Fuck that, I was rich and I was smart. Why would I want to be with her? Kasia was not even close to being on the same level, social or financial, as the other girls I associated with. Val was still standing there, staring me down. I checked my watch, “Better run along, Val. I heard Cooper likes to get laid every half-hour. You’re running late.”
I turned and meshed into the crowd before she could land a comeback. I’m sure Val hated me but I actually liked her. Val could give it right back to me and I liked that Kasia had friends who looked out for her. It kind of sucked, though, that looking out for Kasia meant keeping her from me.
I changed my strategy then and settled for a sure thing. When I woke up the next morning with the girl in my bed, I was annoyed. I nudged her and when she rolled over I could tell she looked a little horrified herself…ah, true love. “Hey, Dylan.” Shame-faced, she added, “That was a crazy night. Um, I’ve got to get going. Just between us, right?”
I played the indifferent part well but I was slightly insulted. “I don’t spill, Kristy. Brendan never needs to know.”
“Thanks,” she said as she slid back into her jeans and then smiled at me. “It was fun, Dylan.”
Fun? No, it wasn’t fun. I yawned and rolled back over to hide the look of misery that I imagined had settled on my face.
Chapter Two
Kasia
I spent that week studying, working on my designs and trying to tamp down the regret I was feeling. Fighting the attraction to him was useless.
That night we were at dinner I felt like Dylan had opened a window. I got the feeling he didn’t talk much or let many people in. That night he excitedly told me about the plans he had to expand his father’s company, told me stories about his friends from home, his adventures traveling with his parents as a child…so many things. I knew that whatever façade he presented to the world, there was still a boy there who was kind and loveable. Silly, but I felt this tender, protective feeling over that boy. It scared me and excited me at the same time. Patryk was such a safe choice. Was I that much of a coward that I couldn’t at least see where things with Dylan might lead?
I saw him sitting in the library reading—no surprise—the Wall Street Journal. I braced myself for the icy reception I was expecting as I approached him. “Hi.”
Did he sense I was near or did he give off this superior, bored attitude to everyone? I flinched in response to the way he said, “What’s up, Kasia?” without even taking his nose out of the paper.
I fought against the strong urge I had to walk away and instead, swallowed my pride. “I wanted to apologize about the other day. I really have no right to judge you and I know, no matter how indifferent you act, that I hurt you. It’s just that I don’t think I’m someone who would be right for you.”
The real Dylan met my gaze then. “How so?”
I cracked a smile. “I’m really low key. Actually, I’m boring. I actually do tend to spend long stretches of time sewing.”
He stood up, towering over me as a relaxed, genuine smile spread across his face. “Then we’ll just have to be friends. Not that bullshit kind of friend-stuff, Kasia, where we just say, ‘hi,’ as we pass each other on campus.”
I played along. “What do you propose?”
“Let’s try to be actual friends…hang out sometimes, have lunch, talk. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend that’s a girl.”
“I’d say you have plenty of girlfriends, Dylan.” I was fishing, looking for some reassurance. I knew, despite what I was telling Dylan, that I wanted to be more than what every other girl had been to him.
“No, I have plenty of girls. Correction—I’ve had plenty of girls. It’s entirely different.”
I liked his emphasis on the past tense and his honesty. “Ok, friends.”
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I backed up a few inches instinctively but then smiled. “Easy now, Dylan. This is teetering dangerously close to something else.”
“No, Kasia, I was just going to suggest we grab lunch. Man, you have a dirty mind—and a high opinion of yourself—assuming I want more than lunch.”
He was a tease and I loved it. “Ok.”
“I’ll pick you up at one?”
“Yeah.”
“See you then, Kasia.”
Dylan
Friends my ass—I was biding my time. I practically skipped to her place that next day. When the door opened I was greeted by Val. Shit. “Hello, Dylan. Long time, no see.”
“Oh, Valerie…you here to crucify me publically?”
“Nope. Kasia’s a big girl. She can make her own mistakes. I’m sure she’ll look back on you as the biggest learning experience of her life.”
With that, Kasia came out of her room into the common area and Val said her goodbyes, extra chipper. I shook her off. “So,
is this where the Sweet Betty Threads magic happens?” She looked surprised—no, alarmed. “I always do my research, Kasia.”
“You research your friends?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t.” When she looked perplexed I went on, “What? I’m majorly impressed, Kasia. Can I see some of your work?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
When she led me into her room it looked like a very organized sort of chaos; fabric swatches pinned to a board, sketches taped to the wall, table with a sewing machine that looked like it had been abused for years. The small room was cramped with samples hanging on a garment rack. As I moved each hanger along the rack, I became awestruck. “I can’t believe you made these yourself. You’re amazing, Kasia.”
She was blushing. “Thanks.”
Stupid and right back to business, I went straight ahead. “I think you need a different logo, though.”
She choked on her water and then laughed. “Really, now? Thanks, but I’m a sole proprietorship—don’t come in here with all these grand suggestions and expect a cut, Dylan.”
She was so damn cute. “Wouldn’t dream of it. This is free advice.”
She teased, “From the heir apparent of Cole Industries?”
“See? I knew you were stalking me too.”
“No! Well…maybe a little.” She went to her desk then and turned on the computer. When her website was up she asked, “So, what’s wrong with the logo and be careful—I designed it myself.”
“No, it’s good. It gives off the funky downtown vibe but it doesn’t express the vintage look of your designs.”
“How do you know so much about my designs?”
“I told you, I do my research…and I notice your clothes, a lot.” When her face reddened I added playfully, “Just friends. I notice your clothes only…I don’t even think about what’s underneath.”