Lennon

two

"She walked around like she was made of brown sugar, like she would fall into pieces at any second. One moment, she was laughing, and then the next, she would focus on a point that was beyond anything that he could ever see, and there would be this look in her eyes, like she wanted to destroy her very being until there was nothing left to destroy."

- The Misfortunes of Lolita, losangelesque

🎼 ✴ 🎼 ✴ 🎼 ✴ 🎼

His hair was ink. Black leather, dipped in the night sky, pitch black and fuck it drove me insane. Boys weren't supposed to be pretty. But the curve of his throat was rough with scruff. But the cobalt electricity in his eyes made my cheeks heat. Fuck.

"Stare any longer, Killer, and I'll start to think you're falling for me."

Week two of Pete Lennon was harder to handle than the first. Adler was gone. Done. We were going to throw him a lame congratulatory party the next Wednesday, before group. 

After my first meeting without Adler, I clung to the refreshment table, desperately texting my mom and praying that at any moment the ugly, pumpkin-orange paint of my mom's van would reflect off the church parking lot pavement.

"Can't you go bother someone who actually enjoys your company," I grumbled, breaking off the corner of a white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookie. It was ritual. He was grinning, sipping watery lemonade, and making my entire body itch with the intensity of his stare.

"You know you enjoy my company. After all, Adam-"

"Adler."

"-is gone, and I'm your new best friend by default," he finished, grabbing the rest of the cookie from my hand and taking a bite. I couldn't help it; I laughed. I think some kids actually gaped, because, frankly, the last time I laughed was one of my first meetings, when Brittany the Bulimic spewed on the floor after a particularly hard to swallow group discussion. 

Turning to face the parasite with eyes the color of cornflower, I arched a brow and leaned in close, so our noses almost bumped.

"Listen now, and listen well: the only way we would ever be friends is if, by some sort of twisted fate, I was left dumb, deaf, and blind. Adler and I will continue to be friends, and I don't need a replacement."

My phone buzzed, and thankfully, it was my mother, claiming to be sitting in the parking lot and in a hurry to pick up Bailey from soccer. I wanted to stalk away, but I hesitated at the sight of his bottom lip clenched between his teeth and cheeks turn a hardy shade of red.

"Dillon-"

"I... I need to go," I hurriedly spat out, avoiding his eye contact and practically sprinting to my mother's car. Slamming the large door and sinking into the seat older than I was, I exhaled a large breath, snapping the rubber band.

"How was it," Mom asked, eyes trained on the parking lot pavement as she began to drive away. Good. More distance between me and Pete Lennon.

"Fine."

"Kat said these group meetings have been doing good for you. Said you've been making friends. I'm glad, sweetheart."

I didn't bother telling her the story I gave Kat was bullshit.

"Did she say when I'd be done with group therapy?"

My mother gave me a look from around the visor of her floppy sunhat.

"Dillon... you know that won't be for a while. Besides, I want to meet these great friends of yours."

Right. The great friends I made up to get my therapist off my back.