The Other Side - ON HOLD UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

Chapter Eight:

The Other Side

CHAPTER EIGHT:

                                       DYLAN'S POV

She stayed the way she set herself. One arm propped up against the head rest which acted as a sort of pillow for her cheek which squished against her body, dark curls fell against her peaceful face missing her closed eyes by centimeters. I too tried to doze off to sleep plenty of times before the clock announced that it was 4 am. Not only would my mum flip at the thought I sat all night in the cell, but my dad would so kill me. It was a stupid idea to do that prank that day, all the teachers had their eyes on me and it was so obvious, might I add. At the time, sure I thought the plan was fool proof but now looking back I can see it was anything but. Sleeping in this state wasn’t thought of for me, not with Dan sitting behind his large desk chewing incredibly loudly on his second baguette that night. No wonder the guy has free access to the gym – people like him should. It wasn’t just the chewing and the paper ruffling that was very discomforting. The way he smacked his lips and rubbed his belly was sickening and the work was when he would let out the loudest burp. Of course, with guy instincts I would laugh it off along with him, but it was like a bullhorn to the ear. Even sleeping Cam would twitch. 

Another hour from 1 am crossed and still I had no shut eye. The fat sweaty guard was even dozing off and here I was sitting and thinking stupid things. Many of them included my so-called friends. When I saw Cam standing in the doorway I was shocked to think that she actually came. I was so close to caving in and calling my mum begging her to come and get me out. Cam was definitely a surprise. Then the way she said I sounded ‘desperate’. Pfft, please. I didn’t sound desperate. If she or my mum would have come, I would deal with this my own way. I didn’t assume that Cam would stay here in such an uncomfortable position. She wasn’t cold I could tell. Her baseball jacket made sure to keep her warm. Cam looked different than she did the night she snuck out with me for coffee. She wasn’t wearing her joggers nor was she looking at total ease. Instead she was nicely done up. Heavy boots and curly bouncy hair. The tight blue jeans she was wearing most definitely showed out the curviness of that little bum of hers.

“Gold.” I opened my heavy eyes wider to see now Dan standing with a slimmer (and I mean twig skinny) police man in front of him holding a key. “You’re free to go.” It was as if God heard my pleading for help. I ran to the bars as the man slipped in the old looking key finally letting me out. It was like I had reached the light at the end of the tunnel. Dan had me fill out some stuff before I left. The same procedure as every time I got stuffed in here. I asked if he had any ‘comment’ papers around. They need comfier pillows. Unfortunately, no they didn’t. Signing my name everywhere I walked to Cam shaking her shoulders a little. Her eyes opened really carefully as she took in me standing by her.

“You’re out?” She yawned stretching and rubbing her eyes. I nodded taking her hand and helping her off the chair knowing how wobbly she would be. She placed the chair back as we said goodbye to Dan who gave us a smile.

“Oh, and Dan,” I popped my head around the corner, “You have little mustard…everywhere on your face.” And with that helpful little comment we left into the empty parking lot. In the distance I could see her car and we walk towards it. That’s when I realized she hadn’t really asked me if I wanted a ride. I stopped and she heard me. Though my skid was evident she didn’t turn around as she said, “Don’t make me propose, I’m shit tired.”

As was I, so no fighting was intended. The car was toasty warm inside and somewhat familiar. The dark seat skin was a tremendous contrast to the silver body work. I led Cam to my house giving her directions. The talk was cut to hardly and the sky was only beginning to blossom with a little life. Killing the engine, she unlocked the car doors to let me out. “Once, again, thanks for coming down.”