The walk home, although flat and relatively quick, is miserable. Not because of the scorching sun overhead and not because of the lingering soreness between my legs.
Not even because I know Mom will be waiting for me once I get to Grams.
No. It's because I'm alone, only my thoughts to keep me company. And what bad company they are.
If I'm not daydreaming about Luke and his body and the things he did to mine, I'm nearly making myself sick with guilt.
What would Casey think, if he were here?
And then the inevitable conclusion, the only one I can ever think of: Casey can't think anything, because he's not here. Because Luke took him away.
And the cycle continues, the disgust I feel with myself eating me away.
Grams cottage comes into view and my stomach twists in knots. Exhaustion falls over me like a heavy blanket and my steps become slower until I'm timidly turning the knob, as if my parents aren't on the opposite side, waiting for this exact second.
It'll be a fight, no matter what I say, and God, I'm just so tired of fighting.
Mom's voice assaults me before I'm even through the door.
"Where have you been?"
"Hello to you, too." I sigh, slipping my flip-flops off and closing the door behind me.
Mom is standing, probably pacing before I entered, and Dad is beside Grams on the sofa. As usual, Grams looks concerned and Dad looks lost. My fists clench by my thighs and I grit my teeth.
"Don't give me that." Moms arms are crossed over her chest, her face pinched. "You better have a good reason for keeping us this late."
"I told you, I didn't need you to say goodbye." I try to shrug, making my way into the kitchen, "Stuff with Brynn went long-"
"Dylan Grace, don't you dare lie to me." Her tone shifts and stops me in my tracks, somehow knowing the worst is yet to come. "I called Brynn's parents and they said you left hours ago."
My mouth falls open as I turn the corner to face her again. "You what? You called her parents?" Red hot humiliation runs through me, bringing heat to my face as my voice hitches up. "What am I, fifteen? Christ."
"No, don't turn this around on us. We were worried about-" Mom's sentence is abruptly cut off, like she's being choked. "What are you wearing?"
I follow her eyes to my chest. To the t-shirt I borrowed from Luke. To the fucking Henson's General Store logo over the breast.
Fuck.
"It's nothing-"
"Were you with Luke?" Mom steps forward, expression bewildered. I shake my head but before I can speak she's shouting so loudly that Dad jumps in his seat. "Stop lying! What were you doing with Luke Henson?"
A lie is my only self preservation.
"Mom, relax. It's just an old t-shirt from the back of my dresser, I -"
"Are you seeing him again?" Mom is nearly screaming. "Is that why you're wearing his clothes?"
The words sting, the implication loud and clear. It's like I'm dirty, a traitor.
Fury explodes out of me. "So fucking what if I am? Am I not an adult, capable of making my own decisions?"
If I thought I didn't care what she thought of me, the look on my mother's face proves that I was wrong. What's left of my heart shatters as her face contorts into one of disgust, shame, resentment.
"After what he did? To you? To our family?" Her eyes narrow. "To your brother?"
"Oh, God, Casey." I watch as she flinches at his name. "How could I ever forget what Luke did to Casey, with you reminding me all of the damn time! As if I don't know, as if I could just forget that my brother is dead."
Mom grimaces again, the words likely stabbing her through the heart as they are my own. Even saying them brings another wave of nausea washing over me.
"And yet," Her voice lowers, even colder than before. "You've forgiven him anyways."
Her stare pierces through me, making my heart ache more than before. I look to the sofa, to the rest of my family for support. Grams is glaring at her hands behind her glasses, muttering to herself. Dad refuses to look at me and once again I'm reminded that without Casey, I'm alone.
"Luke let's me remember Casey without feeling like I'm falling apart." I speak finally, using all the energy I have to try and explain it, knowing it'll be useless no matter what. "Luke let's me remember who I was before, instead of... of..." I trail off, tears threatening to spill over.
"Instead of what, Dylan?" Mom's tone isn't warm or comforting, instead it feels condescending.
"Like a child!" I shout, hot tears finally spilling over my cheeks. "Like a child who everyone wants to control but no one actually wants anything to do with. I'm doing my best - no, I'm doing the only thing I can, to keep it together, okay? I'm sorry it's not enough."
She doesn't reach out to me, doesn't tell me it's okay. Instead, Mom rolls her eyes. "If you don't want to be treated like a child, Dylan, then don't act like one. Look at the decisions you've been making lately - first school and that boy Hunter. Now Luke Henson." Mom shrugs in disappointment, as if I'm a lost cause and not her struggling daughter.
Taking a deep breath, I blink hard for a second before meeting her stare.
"You know what? You're right, Mom. I'm sorry that I've been such a disappointment." I wipe harshly at my damp skin. "But that was to be expected, right? That's what I've always been. Casey being gone doesn't magically change that."
I try for the stairs, so I can get to my room and sob, punch my pillow before screaming into it until I exhaust myself into a restless sleep, but Mom stops me, grabbing my wrist.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Her eyes are hard on mine.
"It means that just because you couldn't save Casey, doesn't mean you can turn me into him now that he's gone."
At that, she drops her hand, her face telling me that I've all but broken her heart. Still, her words keep coming. "That's not... We're not..."
"No? Then why do you keep forcing Casey's decisions on me?" I gesture to my father, lamely sitting on the sofa. "Why can't Dad even look at me since he died?" My voice breaks. "I can't be Casey, Mom. And I am done trying."
This time, when I rush up the stairs, she doesn't stop me.
I slam my bedroom door, sinking against it as soon as it's closed and bury my face in my hands. Pain ripples through me, making it hard to think, to breathe. I gasp for air, the steady stream of tears soaking the stupid fucking Hensons t-shirt, and my vision begins to blur.
"Enough!" Mom's shouting is what interrupts my sobs, jerking my head up at the sound. Hiccuping, I try to quiet my cries and strain to hear through the door.
Grams voice is low and barely audible. She's arguing, though, I can tell.
"I will not be told how to parent my daughter."
Grams voice, louder now. "She needs to know."
Mom, again. "She needs help. Which is exactly what I will get for her. I'm making the call as soon as we're driving. I'm her mother, June. I decide how to help my daughter. Not you. You have to respect that."
Grams grumbles and again, I can't hear anything. Then the front door slams and the sound of my parents car pulling away drowns out anything else, anyways.
With that, my heart rate begins to slow. But the tears don't - they keep coming and coming and coming. Hugging my knees to my chest, I ignore her when Grams knocks on the door to ask if I'm alright.
No, I'm not alright. I'm the farthest thing from it.
But whatever advice she has to offer, I don't need it. I don't need Mom micromanaging every decision I make. And I don't fucking need help.
I just need everyone to leave me alone.
And I really fucking need Casey.
Hi everyone! Long time no see.
Thank you for all of the support on my little announcement earlier. And an even bigger thank you for your patience! You all mean the world to me. I promise to get back to everyone soon ♥️ I'm hanging in there and was actually super excited to get this written and edited for you guys
A super sad chapter for Dylan - what do we think?
Is her mom just trying to help or to replace Casey?
What's grams talking about?