Losing you

C H A P T E R T W E L V E

C H A P T E R        T W E L V E

Dylan felt physically ill—stomach tight.

It was too late to back out now—he had to see this through. As it stood, he was clutching the move tickets in a white-knuckle grip.

After reading the letter, he'd only stared at it. When his mum had noticed the car parked outside, she'd coaxed him inside. He'd gone to his room; face-planting right into the mattress. Then, in sheer frustration, he'd scrunched the letter into a ball and pitched it to the wall as hard as he could. (Granted, it hadn't gone far, barely past the edge of his bed).

Eventually, he'd grabbed it off the floor, folding it out again—futilely trying to rid of the creases. He'd been unable to eat dinner that night—and his mum had left him be.

The next morning he'd woken up, resigned to the fact that he had to follow the tradition. For her, he had to do it.

Long story short, now he was here. Had she been alive, this would've been another month they'd been dating.

Yet he was still honouring it as if she was still here—

"Yo, dude. Snap out of it. I agreed to come with you—so talk to me."

Honestly, Dylan had forgotten Jason was sitting next to him. "Sorry. I'm a little preoccupied."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jason shake his head. "Clearly."

Though there was no heat behind the word, Dylan couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He could front, but it wasn't worth it. He'd dragged Jason along with him so he couldn't chicken out.

"What're we seeing anyway?"

Dylan shifted on the seat he was lying across. He was grateful that no one was actively watching them, despite the fact that the cinema was teeming with people. (If you left out the girls that kept staring at Jason, who was actively flirting back from a distance). "Scary Movie Four."

From where he was sitting, leaning upright against the wall, Jason groaned. "You're joking."

Dylan said nothing.

"Please tell me you're joking."

Again, Dylan didn't answer.

"You're not joking." Jason groaned again. "Are you telling me that you dragged me to the movies to see a shitty comedy? I could be doing something useful right now—like avoiding my assignments."

Dylan raked a hand through his hair, sitting up. "Look, I'm sorry. Go if you want."

"I'm not wasting the ticket you just paid for. Besides, I heard about this once from you. It's your thing—or it was."

"Dude, you realise I made you come with me so I can't run away. Because it's really tempting right now."

"This was your thing. Between the both of you." Jason reached for the popcorn in between them, taking a handful. "I don't get why you're doing this anyway. She's, uh..."

Dead. She's dead. He wasn't surprised Jason didn't want to say it aloud. "I don't want to either. But I have to."

Jason stared at him. For a long time. There was no judgement in his eyes—just open caution.