Disconnected: A Broken Story - Dillan

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Disconnected: A Broken Story - Dillan Page 8

by A. E. Murphy


  He suddenly perks up and puts the car in gear. “I’m taking you shopping.”

  “Shopping?”

  “Seeing as it’s my fault your outfit is ruined, I’d like to replace it.”

  “Oh, in that case…” I recline my seat a little and smile arrogantly. “Spend away.”

  “Don’t be nervous,” Dillan grins.

  “I’m not nervous; I’m hungry.”

  His grin widens into a toothy smile. “That dress really suits you.”

  “I fit into a twelve. It’s the first time ever that I’ve fit into a twelve.” I’m literally on cloud nine. “I almost don’t want to eat my weight in food.”

  “You deserve a treat.”

  Does he not realise that he’s the greatest man I’ll ever have the pleasure of knowing? My future husband will have a lot to measure up to.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” He frowns. “I was daydreaming about cake.”

  Rolling his beautiful grey-green eyes, he waves over a waiter and gives them our drink order: sparkling water with slices of cucumber and lemon. They’re brought in fancy champagne flutes that probably cost more each than my entire outfit. I’m almost scared to drink from them.

  “Peruse the menu, order whatever you like. I’m serious. I don’t have to pay here so it’s all good,” he tells me quietly, making me giggle and hide my face behind the menu.

  “Why isn’t anyone bothering you? Like whenever I go into my dad’s workplace I get hounded by his staff and sometimes his patients.”

  “This place is prim and proper. The only time I’m bothered is when I go through the kitchen. Out here it has to remain completely professional. It’s a bit uptight but it’s how my mum likes it. It’s good for business.”

  I almost forgot about his mum. I’m going to meet her soon. I don’t know why it’s so important to me to impress her but it is.

  Maybe some deep, twisted part of me feels that if Dillan’s family approve of me, so will he.

  I’m setting myself up for some major heartache. Meh, carpe diem and all of that.

  “I think I’m going to have…”

  “Hold that thought.” Dillan snatches my menu from me and grins. When the waiter returns with our drinks he asks us if we want to order, to which Dillan replies, “Can we get the seven course sampler, please?”

  The waiter hesitates. “I’m not sure if…”

  “It’ll be fine,” Dillan tells him. “Tell my mum it’s for me.”

  The waiter nods, smiles, bows and leaves, tucking the menus under his arm before he goes.

  “Seven-course sampler?”

  “It’s a lot of food. Mum only ever does it for tables of eight or more.”

  “Holy crap,” I whisper. “I’m not sure even I’ll be able to eat all of that.”

  “You’re underestimating my ability to out eat you.” Is that a challenge? “Oh, you’re on.”

  He holds out his hand. “Slave for a week says I win.”

  “Deal.” I shake his hand and then sip my beautiful tasting water. “Oh my god… I want to drink this every day for the rest of my life.”

  “Right?” He agrees and waves for the waiter to bring us a refill. They leave the jug on a tall, metal, narrow, fancy trolley bucket beside the table. The bucket is filled with ice.

  “This is so clever,” I whisper to him, admiring the fancy dining piece.

  “My dad designed it and had them made for the restaurant as a gift for opening day.”

  “Your dad is so talented.”

  He agrees with a slow nod. “Crazy talented. Same as Emily; when she puts her mind to it she can be really creative.”

  “What about your youngest sister? What’s she good at? Or can’t you tell yet?”

  He thinks about it for a second and then smiles so softly. “Everything, literally… especially cooking. She loves cooking with my mum and loves drawing with my dad. She loves putting on makeup with Emily and dressing up.”

  “What about with you?” And then it clicks. “Working out?”

  “She does her best and she’s not bad for her age; she can do more press ups than most people I know.”

  “She sounds adorable.”

  “She is.”

  I drink another glass of the water and Dillan refills it for me just as a waiter comes over with a large, round metal platter full of small bites of different foods.

  “Course one and two,” he announces and places the plates around the centrepiece on our table. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Not right now.” Dillan spears a small pastry with what looks to be beef on top and pops it into his mouth. I do the same to the same piece of food and groan with delight. I’m literally having a food-gasm. This is so good. “I didn’t realise how hungry I was.”

  “Me neither.” I move onto another bite and ignore onlookers as they peer at our food choice with obvious envy. The silence stretches between us as we eat, so I open up a new subject. “So, what happened last night?”

  He scrunches up his nose and shudders. “Vodka happened. I’m not prone to drinking so much but…” Reluctant to continue, he sips his own drink.

  I press, resisting the temptation to lick the current plate clean of its juices. “But?”

  “Leona Clinton happened.”

  My heart gives a painful clench. “As in the shrink’s daughter?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs and smacks his lips together. “She was drinking. I didn’t want her to think… well…” Oh. He fancies her. My heart gives a powerful zap of pain that tingles through my limbs.

  “You like her,” I point out, trying to play the good friend.

  “She’s all right.” He shrugs but I can see how much he likes her in his eyes and the tenseness of his body. “We’ve never really run in the same circles until recently.”

  I suddenly don’t feel very hungry anymore. “I thought she left last year?”

  “She did. She’s older than us.”

  “Ah,” I say and wish my glass of fizzy water was vodka. “Did she talk to you last night?”

  The way he smiles and the look he gives me tells me that they did more than talk. Ew.

  I think my heart is breaking. “Well… good for you.” I look at everything but him. “So, are you two dating now?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugs, smiling cutely. “I’m going to call her tomorrow.”

  Of course he is. “Good for you.” I repeat, because I don’t know what else to say. My brain hurts almost as much as my heart. “She’s gorgeous.”

  “Yeah,” he agrees.

  They’d make such a pretty couple.

  “Her dad is a raging arsehole though,” I point out. “I’ve never officially met him.”

  Of course he hasn’t; his head is far too perfect for him to need a therapist. “Well when you do, good luck.”

  “Thank you.” We finish the final plate and as soon as they’re cleared away, more are brought out. “What about you? Anybody you’re interested in?”

  “Nope.” I respond sharply. “I’m focusing on my schooling.”

  “Good for you.”

  “I’m almost full,” I tell him, though it’s a half-truth because I literally can’t eat another bite, not because I’ve eaten my fill but because I’m seriously hurting right now.

  He grins triumphantly. “I told you I’d win…”

  “Excuse me for a moment.” I stand and nod towards the ladies’ room.

  “Of course.” He looks at the bottle. “I’ll get us a refill while you’re gone.”

  “Thank you.” I duck my head and rush across the room as fast as my new heels can carry me. My eyes are burning and my chest feels tight. I don’t want to cry. I don’t even know why I am. I guess it’s because I know that when a man tells you he likes someone else it’s because he’s definitely not interested in you.

  Or at least that’s what my inexperienced brain is telling me.

  I think I have pretty decent instincts in this instance.

  S
taring at myself in the mirror of the deserted, classy, nice as fuck bathroom, I use a tissue under my eyes to catch my blackened tears.

  I blow my nose into it and throw it into one of the open cubicle toilets.

  “Oh well that won’t do.” A mid-thirties, American sounding woman with jet black hair down to her waist in thick waves says as she exits the cubicle at the end. She looks at me in the mirror and smiles. I’ve never seen somebody so beautiful. I’m not even kidding. She’s stunning. I’d kill for tits and legs like hers. “What’s wrong? Have you been ditched?”

  She stands beside me at the sink and checks her makeup. “I’ve been friend-zoned.”

  “Ouch.” She turns and rests her hip against the marble counter. “Well then he’s a class A dick licker if I ever saw one.”

  “He’s literally the nicest guy you could ever meet. He opens the car door for me and everything.”

  “And he brought you here?” She asks, tilting her head and frowning.

  “Wait…” I narrow my eyes as I stare into hers. “Your eyes are violet.”

  “Duh.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “So, you like him and he’s friend-zoned you… what are you going to do about it?”

  “Cry in the mirror?” I murmur and she throws her head back and laughs while asking, “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen, nearly eighteen,” I respond, hoping she buys me alcohol.

  “Too young to settle down anyway.” She waves me off. “What you gotta do, to make him take notice, is date his friend.”

  “What?” I squeak.

  “For real.” Her accent is so… what us Brits would consider a US Boston accent. “Date his buddies; show him what he’s missing. But it has to be a close one, so you can really rub it in his face.”

  “I’m not sure that would make me a ‘nice’ girl.”

  “You tryna’ say I’m not nice?”

  “No!” I raise my hands defensively. “I just don’t want to get a rep. I go to a private college.”

  “MOM!” A young woman with the same violet eyes as the lady in front of me enters the bathroom. “Seriously, what’re you doing?”

  “I’m talking.” The lady folds her arms as I look between the two women and gasp. “This is your mother?”

  “Yeah, she’s hot. I get it.” The girl rolls her startling eyes and then scans me up and down. “What’s wrong with y’all?”

  “She’s been friend-zoned, like right outside, two minutes ago.”

  The girl winces and then steps towards me. Before I know it, I’m being hugged. “Dude, that’s totally not cool. Want me to spill my drink on the kid?”

  “Definitely not.” I jolt back and stare at her, horrified.

  “I know!” The girl clicks her fingers and then points in my face. She declares, “You gotta dangle some hot piece of man candy, show him what he’s missing.”

  “That’s what I said!” They high five and then the older one looks at me and says, “I’m Maya by the way.”

  “I’m Evelyn, her daughter.”

  “I’m Tyler.”

  “Ew,” Maya grimaces. “That’s such an unfortunate name for such a pretty gal.”

  “Right?” Evelyn agrees and then looks at me. “Well, we need to get back, but I’m not kidding. Boing someone way hotter than him.”

  “It’ll work,” Maya agrees and they wave before leaving. What a bizarre mother and daughter. How beautiful were they though?

  The door opens again as soon as it shuts and Evelyn re-enters. She quickly adds, “Sometimes, if you care about someone, it’s better to just take and give what you can, while you can.” She vanishes behind the closed door and then pushes it open again. “But also… fiddle his mate if you wanna be outta that zone, but don’t go too far or he won’t wanna touch the clunge.”

  “You are nuts,” I tell the closed door and gather myself.

  When I exit, Dillan is sitting at the table alone, surrounded by plates of food, looking around the room anxiously for my return. What Evelyn said about taking and giving what I can get makes a lot of sense. He’s confided in me as a friend and my warped brain is twisting this into a drama that shouldn’t exist. This is the twenty-first century. I should be able to be friends with a guy without expecting a proposal. It’s obviously not meant to be and I was never in the running for his affections anyway.

  “Hey.” I smile and retake my seat. “Sorry about that, I got talking to these women in there who were the definition of bonkers.

  “That’s okay; I just worried you’d flushed yourself away.” He motions to the food. “It’s getting cold.”

  “Sorry.” I spear a piece of broccoli and continue eating, despite my roiling stomach. “Thank you for the new dress and shoes. I love them.”

  “It’s the least I could do.”

  I swallow my bruised ego and pride and offer, “If you ever want somebody to go with you to look after the doggies again, I’d love to come.”

  “Really?” He smiles and it’s such a handsome and easy smile. “That would be great.”

  “What are friends for?” I respond and exhale all of the negativity I’ve been feeling.

  “Right?” He smiles even brighter than before. “This one is so good.” He pushes a small round plate closer to me, offering me the final bite of whatever it is. “We’ll get back onto the fitness on Monday morning.”

  Grimace. “Fine, but if you come earlier than six-thirty, we’ll be having issues.”

  I am completely stuffed and annoyed because Dillan was completely right. He ate way more than me. My stomach seems to have shrunk. I’m mostly hoping that he doesn’t hold our little bet against me, but the way he’s smiling at me is telling me I’m hoping for too much.

  “We should have set some ground rules.”

  “Come on.” He stands and looks around the room, giving it a scan before holding out his arm for me to take. I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow and meet the eyes of the two women who greeted me in the bathroom. They’re sitting with two men smartly dressed and laughing at an unheard joke. The younger woman, Evelyn, winks at me as Maya looks my companion up and down and then whispers into the ear of the young man beside her. “Friends of yours?”

  “I’m not entirely sure.” I grin and follow him past the numerous tables and to the double doors that lead to the kitchen.

  “She’s quite busy so this won’t be a long visit.” When he pushes open the doors, I’m not sure what hits me first, the clashing of pots, pans, and voices, or the beautiful smells that are making me hungry again.

  “Break time!” I hear a female voice singsong over the noises. “My boy is here!”

  I see a white cap coming towards us and then she appears from around the shoulders of a handsome, broad shouldered black guy.

  “Mum.” Dillan holds her at arm’s length when she tries to hug him. His hands squeeze her shoulders.

  “Right,” she hisses through her teeth and looks down at the food splattered across her uniform. “Sorry.” She pinches his cheeks instead and then looks at me with an even bigger smile. “You must be Tyler.”

  “I am,” I respond awkwardly.

  “You can call me Gwen; everybody else does.”

  “Except us,” the man flipping something in a pan nearby adds.

  “Come on.” She leads us out through two sets of double doors and into the cool night air. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”

  “I’d sell my left kidney for more,” I blurt. My word vomit has no boundaries.

  “Really?” She grins, looking so radiant and happy about that. “Wicked.” She kicks Dillan’s shin and he glares down at her. “I bet she didn’t say that about your ‘improved’ version of my salad.”

  “Actually that’s Kerim’s salad,” he argues.

  “Nu-uh.” Her lips form a pout. “I improved it so it’s mine.”

  I giggle at their exchange and wrap my arms around myself to ward off the chill.

  “So,” Gwen asks, her smiling eyes on mine, “how�
�s school?”

  “It’s… fine I guess.” I bite hard on my lower lip.

  “Sorry, I’d ask you about your aspirations and such but Dillan already told me everything.”

  He sighs loudly. “Thanks, Mum… you’re top. You know that?”

  “Have I become the embarrassing mother already?” She laughs and goes to pinch his cheek again. “Is he treating you nicely?”

  “He is.” I shiver and, as if to further prove that he is in fact treating me well, Dillan drapes his jacket around my shoulders.

  Christ. It smells so good. I hope he lets me keep it.

  His mum’s smile becomes one of warmth and pride. “Just like your fathers.”

  Okay what? Fathers? Does she mean the jacket?

  “So you tell me.” The way Dillan says this with a twitch of his lips tells me that he likes it when she says that. But still… fathers? As in two or more? Are his dads gay? I’m so confused and I just need to know what the hell is going on.

  “Do you want to take anything back with you, sweetie?”

  “No, we’re good,” Dillan replies and looks at his watch. “I’m going to take Tyler home before she freezes to death.”

  “Aww, already? We could go into my office?” She suggests. Dillan shakes his head. “She met Gran tonight.”

  “Ooh.” Her cringe is a projection of my own. “I’m not related to her…”

  Giggle. “She was… okay.”

  “She liked Ty,” Dillan says. Gwen’s jaw drops. “No shit?”

  “Mum,” he chastises.

  “Yeah, he doesn’t like it when I swear either.” I frown.

  “It’s not attractive.”

  “I’m friend-zoned; what does it matter?” I joke, but it hits a chord deeper than what I let on.

  Gwen doesn’t laugh. Dillan grins, winks and nudges me with his shoulder, oblivious to my pain.

  “And I’m your mother… awks.”

  “Did you really just say awks?” He looks about as impressed with that as he did her swearing.

  Gwen shrugs. “I can’t believe she likes somebody you brought home.” Her hand shoots up to her heart. “I’m not talking about girls; I just mean in general. Since he was two… she’s literally hated every one of his friends.”

 

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