Running Parallel

Part 10 - Connor

"I'm not dressing up."

Dyllan pouts. "Spoilsport. Why's everyone gotta be so serious, huh? I mean, I love Halloween. The decorations, the movies, the costumes. Why's it all gotta stop just because we've gotten older?"

We reach my car and I hit the button on the remote to unlock the doors, but I pause before climbing inside. Brows furrowed, lips pressed flat, I stare at the car window and replay what she said.

She sounds . . . sad.

I don't like sad people. They make me feel useless and stupid. I never know what to say, what to do. Everything always comes out so weird and wrong when I try, but not trying is just as bad. Doing nothing makes people mad and call you heartless. If only the problem was that I don't care, life would be so much easier. Usually I care too much.

Swallowing around the awkwardness that settles in my mouth, I ask, "Are you gonna dress up?"

Standing on the opposite side of the car, she shrugs. "I wanted to, but it'd be lame when nobody else wants to."

"What about Brent?" I ask, despite already knowing the answer. I can't picture Brent being the type to go to a costume party with his girlfriend.

She looks away, face unreadable, voice blank. "He thinks it's childish."

Asshole.

I lick the back of my teeth, feeling myself sway.

Clearing my throat, I can't believe the words that pass my lips, "If you want . . . I'll dress up with you."

Her head whips around, and her eyes go wide. "Really?"

Hesitantly, I nod.

A grin blooms on her face before being replaced with a grimace as she shivers. We climb inside the car, and I lock the doors out of habit. Starting it up, I blast the heat, but aim it at the floor while it warms up.

Dyllan opens her lunchbag and digs out a granola bar as she talks. "I hope we get invited to a costume party, because wearing one at home seems kinda stupid, doesn't it?"

I sit back and stare out the windshield while she eats. "Caleb will probably throw a party."

"True," she says, nodding.

"You could suggest a costume party," I point out. "He'd probably go for it."

"You think so?"

I nod.

"And you'd actually dress up with me and go to a party?" she asks. "You, who 'slept' through the last one?"

I cringe.

"Yeah." Already, I can feel the slow creeping buzz of nervous energy, the burn of humiliation. But I'll do it for her, if it'll make her happy.

We lapse into silence as she continues eating. It's nice, despite being a little awkward. Having someone who enjoys just sitting with you is rare, especially someone who can overlook my . . . quirks. It makes me want to open up to her. It always feels like people are judging me, but I don't think Dyllan's like that.

"You . . ." I lick my bottom lip, thinking over my words. Am I really about to do this?

Out of my peripheral, I see Dyllan's head turn as she looks at me.

"You said we're friends?" I ask, scraping my nail over the back of my ring fingers.

"Yeah," she agrees. "We are friends."

I nod. "Can I tell you something? Without it getting back to Caleb or anyone else?"

"Course," she replies, turning her whole body to face me now, food forgotten. "You can tell me anything, Connor. I swear not to tell anyone."