My Cliche Love Story | ✓

Chapter 16

"Yeah, okay," Jason laughs it off, but I don't. I may have hated the guy before, but I still learned to know when he was telling the truth or not. And right now, he definitely was. 

"Seriously?" I say, and my heart thumps, while my stomach sinks as he nods.

"She left during the summer after seventh grade. I never thought I'd see her again, but when I found out why she left, I was glad. I didn't want to have that kind of person around me, or my family." His eyes are icy, but his facial features are soft and defeated. I feel bad for him.

"Dude, I'm sorry," Jason apologizes feebly, the tips of his ears burning red with embarrassment. "Why'd she have to go?"

Dylan shoots a glance around the close-to-empty parking lot, and shakes his head, seeming angry with himself. "I shouldn't have that, I should not have said that."

In an attempt to lighten up the mood, I seize the Harry Potter reference. "Okay, Hagrid, let's get you home."

I can see a small grin from where his head is in its ducked position, tight to his chest. He cocks an eyebrow and smirks, "I did just quote Hagrid, didn't I?" He laughs genuinely when I nod, returning the look of teasing.

Jason clears his throat. "Okay, you lovebirds, I'm gonna go home and ponder what I just heard, and we'll talk about it tomorrow. Mkay?"

In unison, Dylan and I groan, "We aren't lovebirds!" 

Our friend, already walking away towards his car, raises his hand in a peace sign, not looking back. "Sayonara," he calls over his shoulder, and then he's in his car, leaving us alone with just a few stragglers that haven't gone home yet. 

"Come on, we should probably get back home now," Dylan grabs his bag and tosses it in his car. "I'll drive you," he adds.

I shake my head. "No, my car's right over there--"

"You know, this may be the only time that I'll give you a ride and be nice, so you better take advantage of it."

"You're always nice to me," I mumble without realizing it.  

Delete delete delete delete-- 

Nope.

Didn't work.

Alex, what is wrong with you? 

It doesn't look like Dylan's noticed(thank God), but he still smirks and snakes his arms around my waist, lifting me up into the air and tossing me over his shoulder. Even with my heavy backpack strapped on to me, he can still carry me. Unbelievable.

He only puts me down when we're on the opposite side of the car, and he opens the door, shoving my backpack in, but before he reaches me, I cut in, "I'm perfectly capable of driving myself home, Dylan," I counter.

"I know," he replies, "but I've got stuff to tell you."

"Stuff to tell me? But--my car--"

"Will be fine, we'll just pick it up tomorrow. No one'll be here, it'll be just fine." Dylan reasons, and presses his hands to my waist again, and fire erupts where he's touching me. 

Control your hormones, Alex. This is Dylan Carter, not some cute and romantic boy that's fallen in love with you. He's the bad boy. 

I puff a breath. "Okay," I say, and squirm away from his grasp on me, clambering into the seat next to the driver's.

Satisfied, he closes my door, and starts the car when he's sitting in his seat. "It's been a long time since I thought about telling someone this," he says, all serious and business-like now.