Heterochromia ● a.i

5

(Dylan's P.O.V.)

I wake up to a door slamming. I don't remember jack shit. I don't even know how I got back in this bed. For some reason, my hair is slightly wet. I stand up, and almost immediately fall over. I attempt walking over to my bag, but I just fall. I finally reach it. I pull out a baseball shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans, a bra, and stumble to my shoes. I fall onto Aubrey's bed, pull up my jeans, I sit up, put on my bra, and pull my shirt over my head.

I stumble across the hall to the bathroom, and the floor is soaking wet. Did she give me a bath? That sounds like an Aubrey thing to do. I pull out a Dixie cup from under the sink and fill it with water. I down about one hundred cups until I feel somewhat better.

I stumble down the stairs, and see everyone sitting at the table with pizza.

"Look who finally woke up," Luke said a little too cheerfully, and loudly.

"Shhh," I said wincing at the sound of his voice.

"Oh," he begins to whisper, "I'm so sorry princess," he begins to yell.

I almost start crying while covering my ears, "stop."

I slowly make my way to the table, sit down next to some guy with bright red hair and an eyebrow piercing, and grab a piece of pizza. I start eating and it's the best thing I've ever tasted.

"I'm Michael," the red haired man-boy says.

"Dylan," I say holding my hand out to shake his.

"Nice to meet you," he smiles.

"You're not getting in my pants."

His smile disappears, and then he begins to laugh, "wow, I've never felt so insulted. I don't know if you've noticed this, but I'm not Luke."

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, and direct my gaze towards Luke, "what?"

"I wasn't going to try and sleep with you, I swear," his eyes were wide.

"Whatever. I'm not sleeping with you-either of you," I roll my eyes.

"Wasn't planning on it," Michael says.

"Did you sleep okay?" Aubrey questions.

"Yeah, but you do know that when someone is drunk, you're not supposed to let them sleep it off, right? They could have alcohol poisoning, and fall into a coma or die."

She hangs her head, "I know. I'm sorry."

I feel guilty. This always happens. I always fuck up and Aubrey cleans up my mess. But after I wake up, I'm a complete bitch to her. She honestly doesn't deserve it, and I don't deserve her as a friend. I've been nothing but abusive since the day that we first met.

"Don't apologize. It's my fault I'm in this situation, you were just trying to help. I'm sorry. Especially for breaking everything."

"It's okay. You were drunk, it's no-" she starts.

"When people are drunk they're the most honest. And it is a big deal, it's not okay. I'll clean everything up."

"Dylan, I can't expect you to do that."

"Yes you can, I make messes all the time, and you always clean them up. That isn't fair to you, so please let me clean this up."

"Okay."

End of discussion.

We finished eating, I cleaned everything-well, attempted to. I went back upstairs and started packing my stuff. I was almost done, until I heard the doorbell ring.

"Where is my daughter?" I hear a woman, my mother, yell.

"Um, she's, um, up-upstairs," Aubrey does not work well under pressure.

I hear footsteps coming up the stair case, then down the hall, then into this room.

"What on earth are you doing here?" She asks, calmer than she was before.

"I wanted to hang out with Aubrey," I answer simply.

"Hm, really now? Because your father and I were going to have some wine last night, but when I went to go get it, there wasn't any. Do you know anything about that?"

I look at her, she knows. Ah well.

"Yep."

"Let me guess, you got drunk and were hungover yesterday, so you came over here because you didn't want me to find out? Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I hate my life, more specifically, you."

Her smug smile falls off of her face, and it turns into a hard line.

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

The doorbell rings. The door opens. I hear footsteps. But I only see my mother. She's about to boil over, I can tell.

"Why in the world would you think that getting drunk is a good escape plan?" She yells.

"I don't know mom. Maybe I'll become a hooker and meet my future lover there," I fire back.

"Stop talking like that! How did you become so messed up? Your father and I raised you so well!"

"That-actually- isn't for you to decide!"

"Don't raise your voice at me!"

"Why the fuck not? You're yelling at me!"

"I'm the parent! And do not swear!"

"I don't give a shit what you are! And haven't you heard of freedom of speech?"

"That is it, we are leaving! Now!"

"You are leaving! I'm staying here!"

"Dylan Iris Carter, you are coming home!"

"To hell I am!"

Her hand raises quickly, and she slaps me right across the face. I'm used to this. So it's not really fazing me. But I can't help the tears from falling down my cheeks.

"Don't fucking touch me again, you bitch!" I shout through the tears.

"Come with me now!"

"No! Get your shit covered hands off of me! Stop pulling me! Mom!" I try to jerk away, but she won't budge.

My heart is racing, and my hand is losing all feeling.

"Mom, please! You're hurting me!"

She stops I'm front of me, causing me to bump her slightly.

"I'm hurting you? Are you serious? I did not raise a bad mouthing slut!"

"I'm not a slut!"

"Then how do you explain the three boys downstairs?"

"They're Calum's friends!"

"I don't give a crap who they are! You aren't coming back here again!"

"Fuck you!"

She hit me again. Harder.

I hear steps coming from downstairs. I'm praying to god it's not Luke. I keep my eyes on the stairs, then I see a head fill of curly hair. That sure as hell isn't Luke. The unknown boy raises to my level and he is insanely pissed off. But holy mother of god he is gorgeous. He has very large, and muscular arms. He's tall, but not as tall as Luke, Michael, and Calum. He has brown, fluffy, and curly hair. It looks untamable, and I have this desire to run my fingers through it. His lips are thin, and look soft. He has a little bit of scruff, but it looks good on him. Before I can look at his eyes, my mother pulls me away.

"Get out of my way!" She yells, shoving him out of the way.

I'm being dragged down the stairs and all I want to do is look at him.

My mother and I reach the bottom of the stairs, that is when I finally get to look at his eyes. He followed behind us halfway down. I quickly turn, and I almost freeze in my tracks.