Believe Me, It's You

by S. A. Cook

  “Umm..it was scary and fun. I'd never been to L.A. before and I was expecting to meet someone famous the moment I stepped off the plane. My uncle Tommy took me out there, because my grandparents thought L.A. was too far out of their league.”

  “Did you live with your uncle?”

  “Yeah, for the first couple months. Then he got news that his wife was pregnant, so he had to move back to be with her,” he said.

  “Where'd you go then?” she asked.

  “I lived with Calvin for a while. Almost a year,” he said. “Then when I turned 17, we bought my house in the canyon. My grandparents signed the papers, because I was too young. It was my money, though,” he said. “I pretty much lived on my own after that. Teddy was there, of course. And I had a staff. There were a lot more people around then than there are now. I think they were supposed to report back to Calvin, if I did something bad.”

  “Did you?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah! Of course I did. I was a 17 year old boy on his own with a shitload of money,” he laughed. “I did my share of bad stuff.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Hmm...well I had a few girls here and there. I smoked my share of weed. Had a few parties. You know, the usual,” he smiled. “But I always showed up for work and I never let anyone down. Not until I met you.”

  “I'm sorry,” she smiled. “Maybe I'm a bad influence.”

  “That'd be ironic, wouldn't it?” he laughed. “All the clowns I hung around with, and Eva turns out to be the bad influence.”

  She smiled. “What else do you want to tell me about the old days?”

  “Lemme think,” he said. He closed his eyes and she waited, smoothing the hair back from his forehead, unable to stop touching him. She waited a couple minutes and then realized he'd fallen asleep. She looked over her shoulder at the clock. It was past midnight already and the wine had made her drowsy, too.

  “Dylan,” she tried to shake his shoulder. “Dylan, wake up for a second.”

  “Hmm?” he opened his eyes and looked up at her, blurry-eyed. “I guess I fell asleep. These past couple weeks have wiped me out.”

  “It's over now. Let's go to bed,” she said. He sat up and rubbed his head. Then, he stood up and reached down for her hand and pulled her up. He grabbed his bag and carried it back to her room.

  “You're letting me sleep with you, right?” he asked. “That's not going to freak you out, or anything is it?” She smiled.

  “You can sleep in my bed,” she said. “It's actually the only bed.”

  “Oh, so by default I get to share a bed with you,” he stripped off his jeans and fished around his bag for a little case. He took out a toothbrush. He went into her bathroom and brushed his teeth, then came back out and climbed under the blankets. She went into the bathroom to begin her long process of washing her face, putting on cream and lotion, brushing her teeth, combing out her long hair.

  When she came back into the bedroom, Dylan was asleep. She stripped down to her underwear and climbed in next to him, leaning over to shut off the light. She watched him sleeping in the glow of the streetlamp, and in a few minutes, she fell asleep.

  She woke up at four in the morning, Dylan's arm draped around her, his hips and chest pressed against her. She turned to face him, and wrapped her arm around him, feeling the smoothness of his back. He stirred a little, his hand working it's way through her hair. She looked at his half-asleep face illuminated by the streetlight beneath her window, his eyes opening and then falling back to sleep.

  She stroked his back softly, moving down to his lower back. He shifted, moving his leg between hers. His hand came to life and moved down her back, to her hip and up to her breasts, her neck. She could feel him growing against her, and she moved her hand down to his thigh. His eyes were open now. He shifted again, moving her onto her back. He leaned down and kissed her mouth, separating her legs and moving between them.

  They were both breathing faster, now. She moved her hand down to slide off his underwear. He helped her, throwing them on the floor. His hand moved to take off her bra. He buried his face in her neck, kissing her and working his way down to her breasts. She put her head back and closed her eyes. He pulled down her panties and she moved her leg to help him get them off. He was moving his hips now, trying to slide inside her. She moved her legs up and he slipped in. She was floating somewhere between sleep and desire. He was moving slowly, watching her face, doing everything for her, loving her pleasure more than his own.

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he pushed in deeper. He moaned and his lips found hers, their tongues found each other. His breathing was getting heavier and he pulled away from her mouth and moaned into her ear.

  “I'm gonna come. Come on, Eva. Come with me,” he whispered, moving faster. She felt herself coming, her muscles tensed and then relaxed, her hips moving in time with his. He moaned once more, and let himself go, moving with her.

  It was only after he lay on her, exhausted, letting his erection subside inside her, that they realized they'd forgotten to use a condom.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Dylan,” she said. “Do you think it'll be alright?” He lay on his back, his arm behind his head. He rubbed his eyes with the other hand.

  “I never did it without a condom, Eva. Not once. Not even with Vanessa,” he said. “What about you?”

  “Well, I got tested with Paul before we got married and I was negative. So was he, so we didn't use condoms after I got started on the pill. We stopped having sex a year before we split up. I haven't been with anyone since. I don't know,” she said. “I missed my pills a few times, but I never got pregnant. I always kind of assumed it might be difficult for me.”

  “There's only a small window of time for getting pregnant, right?” he said. “I mean, it'd be pretty amazing if it happened the very first and only time we did it without a condom, right?”

  “Yeah, but it's not impossible,” she looked up at the ceiling.

  “Do you want to go with me to get an HIV test? Then we would at least know that for sure,” he asked.

  “Okay. Do you think it'll really be anonymous?” she leaned up on an elbow and looked at him.

  “It's supposed to be,” he said. “We can risk it. We should do it.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I'm sorry, Dylan.”

  “For what? It's not your fault. We just got carried away,” he said.

  “No, I mean, that there's doubt. That I've given you something to worry about,” she said.

  “I'm not worried. We'll be fine,” he leaned over and kissed her. “We just have to be responsible. We can figure out where to go on Monday. Let's just try to sleep now.”

  “Okay,” she said. She rolled over, and he put his arm around her and they eventually drifted off to sleep.

  Eva woke when the sunlight was streaming in through the bedroom window. Dylan wasn't in bed. She looked over at the digital clock next to the bed. It was 9:30. She got up and looked down the hall. Dylan was in the kitchen. She wrapped the quilt from her bed around her and went into the kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Trying to figure out what to make you for breakfast,” he said. He had on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He'd already showered. She sure had slept soundly.

  “I would settle on toast or cereal,” she smiled. He turned to face her and slipped his hands into the quilt and around her waist. They were cold and she jumped.

  “Sorry,” he laughed. “I think I can make pancakes.”

  “You think?” she smiled.

  “Yeah, I'm pretty sure,” he said. “I used to make them for my grandma.”

  “Oh yeah?” she asked.

  “Yeah, she taught me,” he said. “That way, I could make them when she didn't feel like cooking.”

  “Smart,” she said. “Okay. I'm gonna go get a quick shower.”

  “They'll be done by the time you get back,
” he said, looking for a pan.

  She got her shower and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She combed her hair, and smelling pancakes, went back into the kitchen.

  Dylan had set two places for them at the table and the pancakes were waiting for her. He was eating his, and leafing through the phone book she kept on top of the refrigerator.

  “Hey, here's a place on the north side. They open at 7:00 and it says completely anonymous, results in three days,” he said.

  “Sounds good,” she said. “Don't worry, okay? I'm sure we'll be fine.”

  “I'm not worried,” he said. “But we should know for sure.”

  “I know,” she said. He was constantly impressing her with his maturity. She often forgot he was only 21. Except when his hair fell into his eyes, and he was suddenly a boy again. Or the smoothness of his skin. Or his lack of affect and pretentiousness, and of course, his sweetness. She ate her pancakes, thankful for him.

  “Eva,” he said. “When is your court date, again?”

  “December 10,” she said. “Two weeks.”

  “What happens then?” he asked.

  “Well, I guess the judge hears my case and grants the divorce,” she said.

  “Sounds pretty simple,” he said. “I'll be happy. I hope you will, too.”

  “I will, Dylan,” she said. “I'm happy now.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  They spent the day Sunday working on the book. Dylan lay on the living room floor, looking up at the ceiling and thinking. He recounted the times in L.A. spent working hard- harder than a teenager ought to work, missing out on a lot of the things less talented, less ambitious teenagers get to do, but also enjoying a lot of the things they would never experience. He'd been around the world multiple times, met every famous person he could ever care to meet, played basketball with the Lakers, performed for the President and first lady and a few other world leaders, as well.

  He missed his family and was homesick a lot of the time. He had to create a surrogate family made up of Calvin and the rest of his team of musicians, dancers, tutors, coaches, songwriters, producers and bodyguards.

  He talked a bit about Vanessa, and she could tell he was trying to be careful of her feelings and not make too much of the romance. He talked about how she got aggravated with him when he bought her the wrong gift and how he'd retaliate by going out with his friends and not calling her for days. Juvenile stuff, he said, but a learning experience. He told her about how he'd lost his virginity to the daughter of his voice coach when he was 15. He described it as a lot of fun, but a disappointment, too. He'd lied to Vanessa and told her he was a virgin. To this day, she thought she was his first, and informed all of her girlfriends and anyone else who would listen that she'd taken Dylan Moore's virginity. He laughed, telling Eva they should probably leave that out of the book.

  He told her about his run-ins with the paparazzi and how adept he'd become at ignoring them, until a few weeks ago. He told her about jail. He'd hated being confined. The sounds at night had been terrible. He figured it was similar to what hell might be like, if you believed there was a hell. He stayed awake most nights, wondering about her. Would she still want to see him when he got out? If he got out? He was ashamed at his lack of self control and wondered if losing her would be the price he'd pay.

  She took notes directly onto the computer. They could take out whatever he decided he didn't want to share with the world before they sent the rough draft off to Calvin and the publisher. Right now, they needed to get it all down.

  They took breaks to eat and to make love. Dylan was careful to use a condom and Eva wondered how tomorrow would go. With the Thanksgiving holiday, they would probably end up waiting a week for the results. She tried to put that out of her mind, and enjoy the day.

  She cooked two steaks, and they ate slow, drinking more wine and enjoying each others' company. She told him about high school, and how she'd tried to hide her intelligence, afraid she'd be labeled a geek. She had struggled through gymnastics all through middle school so she could be a cheerleader in high school. She made the squad her junior year, which catapulted her into the realm of popularity. She dated a basketball player her senior year, and lost her virginity to him a few days before prom.

  “Did you like it?” Dylan asked.

  “Not really, it was over so fast,” she laughed. “And he dumped me the day of the prom.”

  “What?” Dylan asked. “You're kidding, right?”

  “Nope,” she said. “I had my dress and everything. My mom was furious.”

  “Yeah, I don't blame her,” he said. “What an asshole. What reason did he give?”

  “He wanted to go with someone else,” she said. “I wasn't exactly heartbroken, though. I just wish I could have gone to my prom.”

  “You sure could pick them, Eva,” he said. “Until me. Now your luck has turned around.”

  “Yes, it has.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead across the table. “Thank God none of the others worked out. I wouldn't be here now with you.”

  They made love again and Dylan remembered the condom. They stayed up late, talking. After Dylan drifted to sleep, Eva wondered if there would come a time when they couldn't think of anything else to talk about. She couldn't imagine it.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Teddy picked them up the next morning. He was driving his nephew's car, but he came alone. Eva felt awkward around him, considering they were going to the HIV testing clinic. He was his usual, cheerful self.

  “Ted, just see if you can drop us off right in front of the door,” Dylan said when they got to the building. “Then you can park and I'll call you as soon as we're done.”

  “Okay,” he said. “It looks pretty empty. Want me to come in with you?”

  “No. We'll be alright. This isn't L.A.,” Dylan said.

  The lady at the receptionist's desk greeted them as they came in. She did a double take when she saw Dylan, but recovered. She handed them their paperwork and led them back to an examining room. She instructed them to use alias, so Dylan chose Jimmy Hendricks as his, and Eva chose Holly Golightly. When they'd finished filling out their information, the receptionist took their paperwork.

  “Just relax and someone will draw your blood shortly,” she said.

  Eva tried to relax, but Dylan was pacing around the tiny room and making her feel nervous.

  “Relax,” she said, smiling at him. “What's the matter? Don't you like needles?”

  “Not really,” he said.

  “It'll be fine,” she said. “Maybe they'll give you a lollipop if you don't cry.”

  “You think so?” he said.

  A nurse came in, wearing a white coat. She smiled and said hello, had them sit in a chair and roll up their sleeves, and one at a time, drew a small tube of blood from their arms.

  “That's it. All done. You should get your results by Friday,” she said.

  “Really? Even with Thanksgiving, and all?” Dylan asked.

  “Yes. We usually get them out the next day. If you don't get them Wednesday, you'll get them Friday,” she finished their paperwork and left them.

  “Wow. That's cool. When we get back from Indianapolis, we'll know,” Dylan said, dialing Teddy on his phone. “We're done, buddy.”

  Teddy picked them up right in front of the door, and that was that.

  “You guys headed home now?” he asked.

  “Yeah, we got it from here. You can go back to campus and party like an 18 year old,” Dylan said.

  “Uh yeah...they've got me moving in bookshelves, and beds. I promise you, Uncle Teddy hasn't been doing any partying.”

  They got home and it was so early they got back into their pajamas and got under the covers. They spent the morning and into the afternoon talking and watching old movies on a channel that advertised a lot of products for the elderly.

  “This is getting depressing,” Eva said.

  “Yeah, you'll be there soon enough,” Dylan laughed.

  �
��Not nice,” she smiled. “I'm still worried.”

  “About what?” he said.

  “Meeting your grandparents,” she said. “What if they're suspicious of me?”

  “'Suspicious'? Why would they be suspicious of you?” he asked, leaning on one elbow and looking at her.

  “Come on, Dylan. You're not just anybody,” she said. “There's a lot at stake with you. You might know I don't have ulterior motives, but they don't.”

  “I told you. They trust me and my judgment,” he said. “And they'll like you. They'll be happy you're a good, Midwestern girl, and not in the business. They don't always trust people from L.A. But they're going to love you, believe me.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I'll do my best.”

  “You don't have to do anything special,” he said. “They'll love you.”

  They finally got up and got dressed, but neither felt like cooking, so they ordered take-out and while they waited, Eva ran down to the corner store and bought a cord of firewood.

  Dylan fooled with the fire while Eva took the Chinese food from the delivery man. They sat in front of the fire, the food spread out in front of them.

  “This is the best Monday ever,” Eva said. Dylan looked at her.

  “You really mean that?” he said.

  “Yes. Absolutely.” She meant it.

  “I just want to make you happy, Eva,” he said. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. He tasted salty from the food. She loved everything about him.

  “Whatever happens with the tests, I'm not gonna stop loving you,” he said.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Wednesday morning Eva and Dylan got out of bed early, determined to finish the rough draft of the book and get it emailed in time to pick up the rental car for tomorrow's trip to Indianapolis, and still enjoy a nice dinner and a DVD.

  Eva loved listening to Dylan talk about how his singing career catapulted him to international fame. She could see the happiness on his face when he talked about songwriting and recording, the whole production of an album. She was impressed by his technological knowledge of the production process. She asked him a million questions, because it was a definite turn-on listening to him explain things.