My Best Friend's Brother

Chapter Five

“You look gorgeous, Riley,” Elle said, sighing a little, but smiling never the less. I sighed, too, as I sat down next to her on her bed.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? We could practise for that math test on Monday.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head rapidly. “It’s a party. Do you really want to be with me studying when you could be drinking and dancing all night?”

In all honestly, yes. I would rather study, but something about Dylan hoping I would be there made my mind set. I wouldn’t tell her that, though.

“Exactly,” she said with a smile when I didn’t answer. I went to speak, but she silenced me by holding her hand up. “No, don’t. Please go, Riley. Honestly, they’ll be expecting you. Chris, Tyler, hell even Dylan.”

I tensed as she said his name, but she mustn’t have noticed as she continued. “And they’ll blame me if you don’t show up. I get . . . I get picked on enough, and I don’t–”

“No!” I said, raising my voice. “No. Elle, come on. We’re friends now, right?” she gave me a slight nod and I carried on. “So–”

“Riley?”

Both Elle and I turned at the voice. It was Dylan. He was standing by the door, his checked red and black top un-tucked at one side. It was un-buttoned, and he had a black vest on underneath it. His black jeans were loose, and he wore red high tops.

He looked amazing.

“Oh, hey, Dylan,” I said calmly, taking a deep breath and smiling a little. Elle looked at me, then him, then back at me, most probably wondering when me and him had come to first name basis.

“You know, the party started ten minutes ago,” he told us, though it was more directed at me than at his sister. I smiled, pretending like I knew that.

“Yeah, I know,” I said coolly, standing up. Elle smiled at me and I flashed one back. “See you later,” I said, and she smiled once more at me before looking back down at her laptop.

“Why are you here?” I asked Dylan confidently, raising an eyebrow. I shut Elle’s door behind me, and with the rise of her music – I’d recommended her to listen to the whole of The Killers album and she did, enjoying every song, not just the one she had by accident – I was sure she couldn’t hear me.

“It’s my house,” Dylan reminded me, smirking. My confident expression must have dropped, because he burst out laughing, bending over slightly, bringing his hands to his stomach. I glared at him.

“You’re such a jerk,” I rolled my eyes, but even I laughed. He stood back up straight and looked down at me – luckily he wasn’t a lot taller than me – smiling.

“Sorry,” he said. I shook my head and he smiled again, biting his lip. “Okay. So, are you going to the party or what? I mean, you look . . .” he whistled.

“Again,” I said, “jerk.”

“Not my fault you look good,” he winked. “So you are going?”

“Well, yes,” I bit my own lip, wondering how exactly I was. When I looked at the time on my phone, the party had started over ten minutes ago. Dylan raised his eyebrows at me.

“Well?”

“I . . .” I started, but couldn’t finish. He grinned at me and I punched his stomach, glaring at him.

“Ow!”

“Come on,” I whined. He stood up straighter again, staring down at me, pulling a face with his tongue out. “You’re so weird,” I laughed.