Detention Boys

Chapter Forty-Nine

I took my time getting up and ready on Saturday morning, making sure that Jane and Sophie would be gone by the time I got round to Dylan's. I got another shower, brushed my teeth and put on a pair of grey sweats and a white t shirt, along with a zip up black hoodie. Mum said that Jane had phoned to say that they had left, and that the back door was left open for me because she doubted Dylan would answer to anyone. I said goodbye to my mum and told her I didn't know how long I would be but that I'd let her know if I went anywhere other than Dylan's.

It was a dry day and a bit chilly, but I chose to walk to Dylan's. The walk calmed me down and cleared my head, and by the time I reached Dylan's I wasn't as nervous as I had been this morning.

I walked round the side of the house and went in through the back door. I walked slowly down the hall and lightly tapped on Dylan's door before pushing it open.

He was lying face down on the bed, his left leg dangling off of it. The covers were on the floor and he was wearing a loose pair or black boxers and a black t shirt. The room smelt slightly of cigarettes and booze, but then I saw why Jane was worried. Dylan's room was a mess. He had a few empty beer bottles by the side of the bed and his clothes were lying on his floor. There was scrunched up pieces of paper on the floor, along with few sketchbooks lying around. Sally once told me that Dylan used to do art when he was upset or angry.

I closed his bedroom door and made my way over to his bed, carefully watching my feet. I crouched down at the top of the bed so my eyes were level with his head.

"Dylan? Dylan?" I said.

He groaned and squinted his eyes at me.

"Alec?"

"Hey, it's me."

He opened his eyes wide in shock.

"Alec!"

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, standing up and taking a step back.

He sat up and wiped his hands over his face. His hair was all over the place and his eyes were red and bloodshot.

"What are you doing here?" he asked gently, making sure not to sound defensive.

"I came to talk to you. Well, to hear what you wanted to say the other night," I replied, looking all over the room and not at him.

"My mum called you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah," I answered anyway. "She's worried. Mitch said you'd been smoking and you've been drinking and- Dylan, why?"

He bit his lip and looked down at his hands. I wanted to put my arms round him and tell him that it was okay. But it wasn't okay. Not yet.

"Because I fucked up," he whispered.

I went and sat at the opposite side of the bed- enough distance between us to avoid the temptation to take his hand.

"I'm so sorry Alec," he said, still looking at his hands. "Jayme came and apologised, said that he shouldn't have left me in the state I was in and that it was his fault. He said he wanted me to be happy. I genuinely thought he had come to deliberately fuck thing up- which he did end up doing, I guess. But when he kissed me- I was shocked when I realised that my feelings hadn't changed."

"Alec," he said, looking up at me. "I feel the act same way about Jayme that I did before- I just hid those feelings by being angry at him, when it was me who drove him away."

I shouldn't have come. I could feel my heart collapsing in on itself, being consumed by my fears. Dylan still loved Jayme. Dylan still loves Jayme. I could tell Dylan knew what I was thinking, I never had a good poker face around him, and he shuffled forward on the bed and took my hands. This time I let him.