Had to be Dyson

Chapter- 8

Dyson chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.” He paused before continuing. “The police department called while you were in the bathroom.”

I looked up at him excitedly with a huge smile on my face. “Well what’d they say? Is the storm ending?”

“Not exactly.” He said slowly. “They said that the storm is a lot bigger than what they originally thought. It’s going to last at least another week.”

My stomach plummeted. Another week here? “Th-that’s a long time.” I choked.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Why don’t you seem bothered by this? We’re stuck here for another week!” I shrieked.

“Yeah. We are in the mall. We can do whatever the fuck we want with no supervision. Sorry for not seeing the negative in this. Except for the fact that you’re here.” He muttered.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, whatever.” I mumbled.

He chuckled softly. “How’s your head feeling?”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. Just a little headache.”

I nodded. “If you need aspirin, I put it on the table over there with your other pills.” He nudged his shoulder towards the small white night stand on the other side of the isle from the beds. On top of the night stand, there were two pill bottles. How can he be so aggrivating one second and then sweet and caring the next?! It's so... frustrating!

Wait... did I just call Dyson sweet and caring? No. No, I didn't mean it. He must of drugged the cinnamon rolls or something because I would never say that willingly. Never.

“Okay.” I finally muttered.

“So you skateboard, sing, and play the guitar, huh?”

“No.” I snapped.

“Oh, right. You also play soccer.”

“I don’t play the guitar.” I snapped. “And I don’t sing.”

Dyson laughed. “I heard you playing.”

“Why were you even at the music store?” I asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

“Well yesterday, you mysteriously disappeared in the morning, so-“

“I just went for a run yesterday.” I interrupted.

“Riiight. Anyway, so I decided to follow you this morning and when I woke up, I found you at the music store.”

“It wasn’t me.” I said quickly. It was all I could think of in my panic.

“Why are you so shy? You weren’t bad.”

“I don’t sing.” I said firmly as I finished my first cinnamon roll.

“Stop saying that.” He said with a chuckle.

“It’s true. I don’t sing. I don’t play guitar. I skateboard and I play soccer. That’s it.” I insisted.

He sighed. “Yeah, alright. So what are we going to do today?”

I shrugged. “Day three. What do you want to do?”

Dyson smirked. “Let’s have sex.”

I rolled my eyes. “Classy, Dyson. And not blunt at atll.” I muttered sarcastically.

“Well do you have any better ideas?” He asked.

“Yeah, I do. Like gag myself with a switch blade.”