One Drunken Night

Chapter 17 (Hailey... What Are You..?)

I stared at Dylan as he bit his lower lip and avoid to make eye contact with me-looking everywhere but me. I tried to process his words even though it doesn't even need processing to begin with. His words were as clear as daylight, he had a crush on Natasha.

I officially regret ever asking him about his childhood with Amber and Natasha. Why? Because it hurts, I know it shouldn't, but it does. After a few minutes, I said a lame, "Oh."

He scoffed. "Hard to believe huh? Dylan Reed—the guy who hates a girl turns out to like one of them long ago."

"So you...uh...still like her?" I questioned, trying not to look eager for his answer.

He finally looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "Natasha? God no, I used to, but those feelings are long gone."

I resisted from releasing a sigh of relief. "Why?" I asked instead.

He sat down and leaned back on the tree then patted the spot next to him, signalling me to sit. "You may want to sit and get comfortable, this is a long story."

I did and rested the back of my head on the bark of the tree. Dylan puffed his cheeks and blew through his mouth. "As I said, we met when I was eight, I thought of Amber like a sister but it's not the same with Natsha. There's something about Natasha--or Nat as how I called her before--that's different from Amber."

I know it makes me sound sensitive that it hurts to hear Dylan talking about a girl even though we're not dating or anything. I watched the wet grass as it sways together with the wind and decided to ask him something to push my jealousy away. "So you're mad at her for leaving you?" I mumbled.

At first I thought he didn't hear me and was about to repeat the question when he said. "I wasn't mad at her for leaving."

I looked at him and furrowed my eyebrows. "Then why?" He looked like he was in a trance when I looked at him and snapped out of it when I asked my question and his blue orbs looked at me. His eyes looked so helpless, like a lost kid who can't find his mom. He looked so vulnerable right now, I wished that I didn't ask him about Natasha in the first place. The tough exterior that I see covering Dylan for years broke open a small crack at the mention of the name of some girl. It hurts to see him like this. "You don't need to--"

"I was angry at myself for having feelings for her and took it out on her without being able to control it. I hurt her, Steph, and I hate seeing that she got hurt because of me so I stormed out of the room, I decided that she's better off not seeing me or I'll end up punching her if I ever did see her again. Five years later, she came back and so did the memories but the feelings remain buried , replaced by hatred and fear of hurting her again. So I avoided her as much as I could."

"Why don't you go talk to her? You know, for old time's sake." I suggested even though I feel a bit uncomfortable. Honestly, I hate it when people fight and even though I like Dylan, I don't want him to have any problems with Natasha and get along.

He looked at me with uncertainty. "She hates me and like I said, I might hurt her again."

I rolled my eyes in attempt to lighten the mood. "Oh please, that was like five years ago, bury the hatchet and start fresh." I nudged his shoulder lightly. "And besides, she doesn't hate you for all I know."

I saw the edge of his mouth twitch upward a bit as he looked at the grass. "How do you know? I treat girls like a piece of shit, they either hate me or think of me as their toy that they can have fun with, either way, I don't like any of those."

"Dylan, I've seen you walking in the halls for a couple of years in my life and saw how the girls look at you, majority is the latter and the rest are scared of you. Many of the girls here are like lioness looking at a piece of meat their waiting to tear apart, but Natasha isn't one of them, she's not even scared of you so she's neither." I admitted to him.