Chapter 16- Dylan

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         After the party, me losing my virginity, and Lilah turning me down cold, the rest of my weekend was uneventful. It consisted of me binge watching West Wing, my parents returning from a two day business trip, and me watching more West Wing.

       When Monday came, I was as close as I would come to being ready to face Lilah and the world in general as I would ever be.

       I dressed myself in joggers, sneakers, and a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. All black. I liked to call it my don't-talk-to-me outfit. Nate always called it my manstruating outfit.

       When I walked into school Monday morning, Nate approached me, grinning widely.

      "Hi honey! How are the cramps? Want me to bring you some chicken soup and chocolate? I know how needy you get on your time of the month," he teased mercilessly, his eyes glinting mischeivously. Typical Nate. His way of cheering someone up involved mocking them out of their misery.

    I rolled my eyes.

    "C'mon, lets just go to History," I grumble moodily. "And besides, apparently girls find my brooding attractive. Apparently it makes me seem dark and mysterious." Nate faux-giggles.

       "I know, right!? Like totally. It is sooo HOT when Dylan is all dark and mysterious, like OMG!!" He squeals loudly in falsetto, drawing stares from people around us. I distance myself from him in an attempt to appear like I don't know the big burly football player squeaking in the voice of a little girl. Nate bows jokingly at his audience, then starts waving like a queen.

     Then a blur of blonde hair and black clothing dashes up to us and jumps on Nate's back.

       Lilah freakin Green.

       Wait why is she all cozy with Nate? Are they sleeping together? Did I lose my virginity to someone who is also screwing my best friend? More importantly, does this mean that I slept with Nate by the transitive property? Wait if that was a thing than I just slept with half the guys in our school! Please let that not be a thing. I don't think it's a thing. Is it? Well if indirect kissing is a thing, then why shouldn't transitive banging be a thing? God, I need to stop mentally discussing these possibilities before I vomit or my head implodes.

      Nate staggers slightly when Lilah jumps onto his back, but manages to regain his balance and continue walking, with Lilah clinging to him. Lilah's friend Celia also catches up with us, and they are tailed by two other girls who must be cheerleaders, including one who I remember was flirting with me at lunch, Missy I think her name was.

       Nate cranes his head to look at Lilah.

        "Do I look like an Uber to you? Not that I mind you wrapping your legs around me like this, but is me carrying you to class gonna be a regular thing?" He asks. I grimace at him flirting with her.

     Jealous? Me? Never.

      "Of course she expects to be carried. Her Highness could never just walk to class like a plebeian," I blurt out scathingly.

     Okay, maybe I am a little bit jealous.

      Nate looks at me, silently questioning the reason for my rudeness, before glancing back at Lilah.

      "Sorry about Dylan. He's just super hormonal right now because it's his lady week, and he's been having awful mood swings all day. You know how it is," Nate apologizes to Lilah. I barely contain the urge to smack him upside the head. It's one thing to tease me in private, but to humiliate me in front of Lilah...

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