Cloud 69

12:

Dylan shook his head. "You're not coming."

"Why not?"

"Because you're...how do I say this? Too competitive."

"Too competitive?! I am not too competitive."

"Mads, you challenged my father to a JustDance duel after he won in poker, and over summer break, every time Ian hit you with a Draw 4 in Uno, you hit him, physically."

Personally, I saw no problem with that.

"Okay, so maybe I am just a little bit competitive," I conceded. Dylan let out a snort. "But I bring personality to the game table."

"Yeah, well, Emily doesn't want that 'personality' scaring off her new boyfriend. She and I both think it might be better to make tonight real family only."

"Tell Emily I said she can go fuck herself and now she's not getting the new gossip."

"Sorry, Mads. Next time."

I sighed in defeat. I could pretend (and his mother could, too) all I wanted that I was part of Dylan's family. But I couldn't force Dylan to do the same. He had the final say here.

"You promise?"

"I do."

"You better not tell your mother it was my idea for me to skip out."

He rolled his eyes, "Even if I did, I'm sure she texts you more often than she texts me. I would easily be found out."

Before bringing me home, Dylan decided he would buy me ice cream as a 'peace offering.' Obviously, I was fully won over by this gesture. 

I had completely forgiven him by the time we pulled into my driveway, just as the sun had finished setting. Still, he insisted on giving me another groveling apology before I sent him on his way.

But this left a vacancy in my plans for the night. My mother and father had traveled to Atlanta for the weekend to speak at some medical conference. I guess a worse alternative to having no plans could be having to attend said conference. My parents practiced their speech enough times on me that I could practically cite it verbatim– the last thing I needed was to hear them give it again.

None of the lights were on when I walked into the house, which just seemed like another nail in the coffin. Another reminder that I was home alone.

I trudged upstairs to my bathroom, intent on taking a nice, long, relaxing shower. It didn't do much for entertainment, but it wasted thirty minutes. But once I was dried off and dressed in sweats, I was back to square one. 

Dylan kicked me out of game night, Luna and Zach went to his grandma's, and, to be honest, I'm not sure what Jason was doing tonight, but I had a pretty good feeling I didn't want to know.

This left me completely and utterly to myself.

There weren't any good alternatives to staying in and doing nothing, either. There was no football game this week, so there would likely be no party. And although going to the gym would eat up a significant amount of time, I already showered and soccer had drained most of my energy.

I wandered around the house aimlessly, looking for something to occupy myself with. I was getting desperate now. So much so that I nearly entertained the idea of doing homework, but touching anything school-related on a Friday night is strictly against my religion.

I visited the fridge about seven times, but was left dissatisfied with the options every time. Not that I was even hungry, just tremendously bored.

I spent an hour on the sofa in the living room, catching up on the most recent episode of my favorite shows. But once I had done that, I had grown restless and the thought of binge-watching anything else didn't sound appealing.