Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City?
"I have a feeling we're gonna get a long real well," he said, sliding her coffee across the table.
I'm one thousand miles away, but girl tonight you look so pretty, yes you do.
"Me too," she replied softly, letting him lay his hand on hers.
Times Square can't shine as bright as you, I swear it's true.
Flash flash flash.
The name that he says is blurred out.
"What, baby?" she asked obliviously.
Hey here Delilah, don't you worry about the distance.
"I have.. I was diagnosed with cancer."
I'm right here if you get lonely, just give this song another listen.
Flash flash lash.
Close your eyes.
White room. Noise, noise, noise. Beep beep beep. Worry. Sadness. Pity. Hatred, filling the room.
Listen to my voice it's my disguise.
Beep beep beep.
I'm by your side.
"We're losing him!"
Beepbeepbeepbeep.
Silence.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
It's black. All except for a street light, lining the end of the drive. A young boy stands under it, drunk and confused, afraid. Afraid for his life. The street light flickered out then back on, but dimly. A second figure enters. Twice his size. He's holding something. Black and shiny.
A gun shot fills the night and the scared boy falls.
I woke up with a shriek, once again underestimating where I was on the couch and ended up on the floor. Thankfully my bad arm wasn't in the way. I didn't even realize that I fell asleep. I hate that nightmare. The worst thing about is that it isn't all imaginary. It actually happened (minus the last part, because I knew it was Big D and Talon), replaying it over and over again in my mind like the universe is trying to punish me. It was working, and I reckoned I deserved it for everything I did to my brothers. Not to mention Louis.
"Claire, are you okay?"
I rolled over so that I was face up. "Yeah. Just a broken back." Harry extended his hand to help me up.
The Talon and Big D part was new. Big D's real name was Dylan, but he was huge and hated the name Dylan. He hated anything to do with his parents. See, Jonah and I used to go to school with him, until he dropped out. He used to live across the street from us, and we were really good childhood friends until he got into drugs and gambling. After that, after he ran away, we stopped seeing each other period. I met his parents once. Wishy-washy people. They let him do anything he wanted. He kept testing and testing the boundaries, only wanting to be told 'no' once. It never happened. So he took it to the extreme. He bought a gun. He tried drugs. He took his dad's credit card and gambled and gambled. His parents didn't blame him, they blamed it on themselves. That's why he's such a mess. I wasn't scared of him, though, despite the fact he almost shot me. He was just another lonely kid in a big world, searching and searching for an answer just like the rest.
"What was that about? You screamed," he asked softly.
"It's nothing, really. Just a nightmare." I glanced at the clock. It was only 9:00 PM. Why the heck was I asleep?
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I laughed, hoping it didn't sound fake. "Seriously, I'm fine." He shot me a skeptical look but let it go. I took note of where he was laying and where I was, only to realized that I was sleeping on top of him. Crap. How did this happen? I also noticed my hoodie on the floor and not on me.
"What did we-"
"Nothing." He answered a little too quickly. I raised my eyebrow. "No, really. You were sweating a bit so I took it off." He smiled sheepishly at me. "Sorry."
"It's fine," I replied quietly, sitting beside him.
"Did that have anything to do with your dream?"
"Why are you so hung up on this?"
"Just wondering."
I paused. "I don't know. Probably. I had that dream before. I always wake up screaming. Robbie came in one night and told me I had a fever, so, yeah, sweating probably does have something to do with it."
I could tell from the look in his eyes that it was killing him to know what the nightmare was, so I have gave in. "I-it was about Jared. I always have it. How we met, how he died. 'Hey there, Delilah' is always in the background. I hate that song."
It wasn't so much that I hated the song, just the memories that came with it. It was Jared's favorite song. He used to play it to me on his guitar all of the time. It was the song that was playing in the cafe he took me to after the party. It was our song.
I left out the part about Talon and Big D.
Harry was silent. I didn't blame him.
"I'm sorry," he finally said.
"It's not your fault."
"I feel like it is."
My eyes widen and jerked to him.
"I feel like I'm the one making you feel guilty about him. I'm sorry."
"Harry, no. If it's anyone's fault then it's mine. I'm still getting over him and it's not healthy any more."
His face fell, so I wrapped my arms around him and ignored the strain in my wrist. "But I know who can help me with that."
He smirked and raised his eyebrow. "And who's that?"
"You, stupid."
He smiled and kissed my forehead before getting up. "I'm going to go get a shower." He paused before turning to me and grinning. "Care to join me?"
I rolled my eyes. "Not yet, Big Boy."
Maybe I shouldn't have included the 'yet'.
He laughed and left the room. I turned on the TV to Disney Channel, wanting something familiar in my life again. I dialed Robbie's number, hoping for some answers. The police never called me.
It went straight to voicemail.
"Hey, Robbie, it's Claire. I know I'm probably the last sibling you want to hear from right now, but please, call me back. I'm worried about you. Bye."
Then I tried Jonah, who didn't answer.
"Jonah, answer your damn phone and call me back. Bye."
I wondered if Lucas heard yet. So I called him.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Luke, it's Clarissa."
"Oh. You."
"What's with the attitude?"
"It's all your fault Robbie did this."
So he had heard. About everything.
"How the hell is it my fault he got drunk and robbed a store?"
"You're the one who caused all of the trouble! He needed an escape. So I hope you feel pretty sorry."
"I didn't make him do anything. It was his choice."
"Your stupidity went to his head! I talked to him last night, he couldn't take being the bad guy anymore."
"Whatever, Lucas."
"Claire, if you hang up this phone-"
I hung up and dialed Max's number.
"Any news yet?"
"They didn't call you?" He sounded really tired, like he had been up for a while.
"No. Jonah won't answer his phone, where is he?"
"They didn't call me either. Jonah's down at the station the last I heard."
"Oh."
There was a long silence. "I'm scared, Max. What if they hear about Dad and send me to my aunt's or something?"
"They won't, don't be stupid. That's a whole seperate thing. Even if that were to happen they wouldn't send you to crazy Aunt Julie. I'd have you at my fraternity."
He laughed as I imagined the horror.
"Okay. Well, thanks for extra nightmares. 'Night."
"Bye."
I hung up and buried my face in my hands, tossing my phone to the side. This was a disaster. Even if I murdered someone I couldn't imagine Robbie doing anything like this. Max would, you know, just for fun. And now Lucas was mad at me (what else is new?) and Jonah is who knows where.
My eyes turned to the TV, not bothering to notice what was on. My mind was way too clouded to take in anymore new information. My life was crumbling under my feet. What was happening to us?
"Close your eyes, I forgot jeans."
I glanced at Harry then immediatley closed my eyes. He didn't even bother to put a towel around him.
"Thanks for that."
"You know you enjoyed it, Coligan."
He laughed loudly as I heard him shuffling around in the room, purposly taking a long time.
"You can open your eyes now, Claire."
I opened one, not trusting him. Luckily he had indeed put on a pair of jeans. "Come here and help me pick out a shirt."
I grinned and got up, heading over to the dresser. "Don't you have hired staff to do this for you?"
"I have a feeling that you have better taste."
"You have good instincts," I replied, rifling through the shirts in the drawer.
"Well, you're with me so I'm sure you have good taste."
I huffed, "You picked me."
He tilted his head towards me. "I guess we both have good taste, then."
I blushed, trying unsuccessfully to hide it.
"Here," I said, finally deciding on a black Abercrombie & Fitch shirt and tossing it to him. He cracked the smallest of smiles and dropped the shirt on the floor. He must've noticed my quizzical look because he said, "I feel better without a shirt on."
I blushed harder. "Oh," I said lamely. Well, what was I supposed to say? He pressed his body against mine, his arms snaking around my waist.
"I guess you do too, seeing that your hoodie is still on the floor."
"I forgot it was even there." I stepped backwards to go grab it, feeling exceptionally awkward being this close to him.
"Mmm, mmm, I like it there."
I smirked. "Me too."
All of a sudden the door burst open.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Harry loosened his grip on me, so I turned around though I already knew who it was from his voice.
"Making sweet love, are we?" Zayn laughed, tossing his jacket onto the couch. "Clothes off, gettin' close.."
"Okay, Zayn, you can shut it now." Harry's eyes flickered back to me. "Sorry about that."
"It's not your fault," I replied sweetly, untangling myself from him and grabbing a pillow off of the couch. "It's his!"
I chucked the pillow at Zayn's face. He wasn't exactly paying attention and threw his hands up a bit too late, so it ended up right in his face. He made a sound that sounded like a cross between a pigeon and a pig. Definitely not human.
"Oooh, violence," Zayn whined, tossing the pillow aside. Harry threw on the shirt I picked out, and I reached for my hoodie before Zayn grabbed it and dangled it over my head.
I'm 5"4. Everyone in my family, excluding Robbie and my dad, is really short. Zayn's around 5"9. So imagine my pain.
"Aaayeee," Zayn teased, tongue sticking out. "Look at the little shortie."
I squinted at him and tried to lightly hit his gut, making him contract. I guess it wasn't that light, but I had to do what I had to do. Snatching the hoodie off of him, I threw it on before he could realized what was happening.
"Man, girl," he exclaimed, sitting back down on the couch with a sly smile, "you can really pack a punch."
Harry laughed hysterically behind us, throwing his hand up to his mouth to muffle it.
"Try growing up as a weak little girl with four older brothers." I sat on the other end of the couch. It's learn to fight or learn to be sat on."
"Why are you here, Malik?" Harry asked, sitting next to me.
"I just came by to tell you that a really big storm's supposed to be coming, so they're gonna be pushing our flight back on Tuesday."
"Oh." Harry raised an eyebrow, then looked at me and smirked.
"Yeah, well, I'll leave you two love birds alone," Zayn chuckled, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. "You're not ever going to here the last of this, Haz." He pointed at him. "Neither are you, Coligan."
He slammed the door behind him. Harry leaned back and laid his head on the wall. "Well, that was fun."
"Uh huh." I paused. "Do they also do this to you?"
Harry grinned. "Mostly. I do it to them, too, so it's no big deal."
I laughed. Where I was from, if you so much as knocked on your brother's door he'd yell into the next day. Coligans took privacy so seriously sometimes it was ridiculous.
"I guess you have to sleep here tonight," Harry whispered after a long silence.
"I guess so." I had no other choice, really. I closed my eyes, though I wasn't really tired. I was scared too go back asleep. I'd rather be beaten up then have that dream again.
"What are you thinking about?"
I hesitated to answer, hoping he wouldn't get angry. "Dylan. Er, Big D."
There was another long silence before Harry turned to me and pulled me close.
"You know I'll always be here for you, right?" he whispered. "You don't have to be afraid of any of them. I'm yours."
I felt my eyes water. I was so thankful for him, so happy that he cared this much about me.
"And I'm yours."