I Still Need ✓

5. I still don't like him and I never will

We would have to go on a date. Dylan and me. Together.

Me, with Dylan.

I dreaded it. I hated the thought of it. Absolutely hated it. You know, the definition of a date was someone going out with someone they liked... And sure, Dylan looked nice—pretty good actually—but I didn't like him. He was an annoying jerk who was constantly on my nerves and I really didn't get why Floyd was friends with him.

As if he had read my mind, Dylan sighed and turned his head to me with an irritated look. "We don't actually have to do this, right? We can just say we went on the date and make stuff up."

"You know Floyd. That won't work. He'll want to know every single little detail. We can't make that all up. What if I say one thing and you say another and he'll get suspicious?"

"Right. Then... let's just go see a movie or whatever. We don't have to actually do anything together that way. You up for that?"

I couldn't come up with anything better, so I had to agree. It was better than going out for dinner. "Sure. What movies are playing?"

Dylan took his phone out to look up the schedule for the movie theater. "There's some action movies, some chick flicks, you know, the usual."

"What about that one?" I pointed at one of the movies in the list and Dylan thought about it for a moment, before nodding. "Seems good."

Thank God we had the same taste in movies.

We agreed to meet up at the movie theater at around eight and to pay for our own tickets separately, since neither of us was willing to open their wallet for somebody they low-key hated. That would take it to a whole new level of dedication.

Suddenly, this date didn't sound too bad. As long as there was popcorn, I was content.

There was no popcorn.

Of course there was no fucking popcorn.

They were out, apparently. I wanted to yell at the girl who sold the drinks and snacks but no popcorn, but Dylan slapped a hand over my mouth and told her we'd have chips instead. I resisted the urge to bite Dylan's hand and patiently waited until he removed it, so I could force a smile and take the chips from the girl with an even more forced, "Thanks."

Dylan grabbed my wrist to lead me to the theater and hissed, "It's not her fault, Hugo. Calm down."

I knew it wasn't her fault. It was all Olivia's fault.

"I hate Olivia."

"Come on, let's just go watch the movie," he said, tugging on my arm again, and I told him, "You can let go of me now."

He looked down, as if realizing for the first time that he was holding onto my wrist, and let go, while muttering, "Sorry, old habits die hard."

I didn't say anything about it and quietly took my seat in the theater, ripping through the silence as I opened the bag of chips. Dylan sat down beside me and put his feet on the back of the empty seats in the row before us. I stared at the screen filled with adverts until I couldn't help myself and asked, "You were dating a guy before, right? I saw you with him sometimes. I have no idea what he's called, though."

"Yeah, Jamie. He doesn't go to our school."

"He was cute."

"Yep, until he ditched me for another guy."

"Ouch," I replied and he just shrugged and said, "It's okay. I didn't really like him anyway. To be honest, I only kept him around for his ass."

I almost choked on my drink.