alright ↠ dylan o'brien

six.

By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top

I climbed the tree to see the world

When the gusts came around to blow me down

I held on as tightly as you held on to me

-To Build A Home by A Cinematic Orchestra

Lola

There were few things in my room that I actually cared about. Many I never bothered to clear or get rid of. There was jewelry and hair elastics from last year that was still laying around on my dresser, for starters. My desk was scattered with papers that went as far back as the sixth grade. The only thing that I needed and wanted with me was my mother's locket. Though she had countless items in her room, I felt like the locket was the only piece I had left of her.

All I really needed in my room were the normal things: clothes, a bed, a dresser. I only had a chance to wash myself and clothes once a week. Due to the fact that Ray refused to pay the water bill, I had to use the washing machine and shower at the Glenderwall's across the street. They didn't seem to mind it, but if they did, they did a great job of hiding it. I probably looked and smelled awful every day-- half of my shirts had unremovable stains on them, most of my clothes were either too big or too small, my bra was like a choker, and my hair always felt stringy.

It was a wonder that Brian Phillips and Dylan even bared to approach me.

Dylan was a strange guy. Like the usual cronies, he was attractive, well-cleaned, and popular. Unlike the cronies, however, he was kind and caring. He was the only person I actually wanted to talk to. He had snuck through my window and had somehow made me tell him everything. He had made me open up, and I had only known him a little bit. Dylan had somehow found out about the most personal detail in my life. It wasn't such a secret to everyone else, but nobody knew about Dave. Dave was the one detail I had left locked up until now. But how would it be now? Would he pity me and ask me how I'm feeling every five seconds? Would it be awkward and strange? Would it be different?

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. What if he told Ashley?

God, why did I tell him about Dave?

I didn't think he would tell anyone. He seemed trustworthy enough. But how would I know? Dylan wasn't all that he seemed. I knew it. There was something in his eyes that said to me he wasn't saying all that he could be. When I told him what happened with the accident, he stayed on that subject. I realized that he hadn't talked about himself at all apart from when he talked about being an actor. I knew he didn't have a lot of money. That was it.

Dylan

I lived in a crappy apartment in the city. As much as I had tried to convince my mother to get a house outside of Manhattan like Ashley, she continuously replied with "We can't afford it." Yet again, that was her answer whenever I asked her to leave Stephen.

My room was the only part of my house I actually liked. Well, my side of the room at least. I, of course, had to share a room with an older, miserable, troubled teenage sister who, might I add, hadn't even moved out after high school. Julia was a nineteen-year-old girl who sulked and stared at the TV all day, moaning about how all of her friends had gone off to college, while she didn't even know what she wanted to major in. For over a year, she had been complaining about how her life turned out to my mom, driving her insane.

I knew what I was doing after I graduated. I dreamt of being an actor, following in my mother's footsteps. But I had no money to afford an acting school. My backup was to attend Syracuse with a sports major, or to just become a camera operator. I didn't know how this would all turn out, but a dream was worth half my life, at the most.

"Take out the trash, will you?" asked Stephen from the couch, where he was watching Family Guy, or some stupid show.

"It's Julia's turn," I replied from Julia and I's room down the hall. Julia shot me a look, which I shrugged off as a look of aggravation. Julia staring at the wall— me doing homework.

"I'm telling you to do it, Dylan," mumbled Stephen. I couldn't see his face considering he was in the living room, but I could tell he was annoyed. "I don't give a damn if it's Julia's turn."

I groaned and threw my history textbook to the side, shooting a glare in Julia's direction on my way out the door. I knew better than to disobey Stephen, knowing how impatient he was. But halfway down the hall, my mother stopped me suddenly. She looked distraught and slightly nervous, looking around me a lot. "That girl you brought here yesterday was nice."

I nodded, knowing where this conversation was leading to. A week after the party, and Ashley was already my girlfriend.

"Maybe. . . I don't think she should come over here anymore. . ."

I nodded again.

"You know how Stephen is, sweetheart."

Once again, I nodded, pressing my lips together in a tight line. She tucked her brown hair behind her ear, and gave me an apologetic look as she walked away. I understood what my mother meant, and I didn't know how much I could trust Ashley.

I mean, sure, she was my girlfriend, but at the same time it wasn't a relationship full of trust. I wanted the right girl for me, but I also didn't want to be like Brian. It had only been a week, after all. If I were to break up with Ashley now, Evan and the others would instantly let me go. In their eyes I was still the new kid. And the new kid is always the last choice.