(Ali's P.O.V)
'Have you got colour in your cheeks?
Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the tide
That sticks around like something's in your teeth'
That isn't my ring tone, so it must be Dylan's. And judging by how he sighs, annoyed, and rests his forehead on mine, I know I'm right.
'Are there some aces up your sleeve
I had no idea that you're in deep
I dreamt about you nearly every night this week'
"Aren't you going to get that?" I whisper breathlessly, rubbing circles on his cheek with my thumb. I never knew he was an Arctic Monkeys fan.
"I'll be right back ok?" he looks at me, as if waiting for my answer. I nod in agreement and he swiftly pecks my lips before picking himself up and sauntering towards the couch.
"What?" he snaps without even checking the caller ID and I can tell that he's aggravated.
But for some unknown reason I just can't help but smile, he was enjoying this just as much as I was. Plus, he's cute when he's angry. The way his brows furrow and his lips curl adorably as he chews on it. Yup, I am one lucky girl.
"Yes, today... I don't know, when is best?" I notice his tone soften as I listen to the one-sided conversation. I wonder who it is that called him. "Uh-huh, I'm still with Ali... When?" he pauses and looks at me for a second, as if trying to decide something. Who is he talking to? And about me?
"Ok, I'll ask her.. I'll see you later... I love you too,"
What?
Ok, who the hell is he speaking to? Suddenly, a giant wave of jealousy hits me hard and I stare at him, narrowed eyes and all. So help me God, if it's some slut form our school I will kill her... and him.
"No mom, not yet... why can't he do it himself?" Suddenly his expression shifts and he looks angry.
Wow, this is awkward.
Jeez I really am one of those 'psycho jealous girlfriends' you always see in movies. I'll make sure to not let Dylan find out about this, it could cause a lot of commotion. To spare myself anymore embarrassment, I quickly get up and tiptoe my way over to the bathroom.
I haven't seen Mr and Mrs. Scott in over six years now, I wonder if they still remember me. It would honestly be hard not to seeing as I was over at their house everyday when Dylan and I were kids.
Ok, now that my bladder is empty I feel much better. I look at myself in the mirror as I scrutinise my pale face. Why am I so pale? Maybe it's just too early in the morning. Speaking of which, I don't even know what time it is, but my rumbling stomach tells me that it's time to eat.
I quickly run my fingers through my wild, untameable hair and wash my face. There, this should do it. When I saunter back into the bedroom, Dylan is sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms resting on his thighs, looking every bit the model. Damn, I wish I could look that good this early.
"Hey again," I smile, sitting on the bed beside him.
"You ok?" he asks, scanning my face with his brown eyes.
"Good as ever," I beam.
"Listen, we have to get going," he tells me and I can see the annoyance in his eyes.
"Already?" I ask, it's still early in the morning isn't it?
"Yes, I'm sorry. My mom called and asked me to be back for dinner so we have to leave soon if we want to get there on time,"
"Oh, okay." I answer, kind of bummed out that soon I'll have to leave Dylan. I've been enjoying myself so much in his company that now I just don't want to leave his side. Is that weird?
"Um.." he starts, looking somewhat uncomfortable, "my mom wants you to have dinner with us," Dylan tells me sheepishly as he squirms nervously under my gaze. He looks so adorable when he's nervous.
"I mean, it's ok if you don't want to, I totally get it but--" he starts, but I cut him off when I place my lips over his. As I pull back, a ghost of a smile plays upon his rosy lips.
"I'd love to." I reassure him and his smile widens.
*
"You got everything you need?" Dylan inquires as we take one last glance around the palatial bedroom.
"I think so," I mutter, my brows furrow as I try to think of anything I might have forgotten. Nope, I've got everything.
"Then let's go," he smiles and takes my hand in his, intertwining our fingers before flinging his backpack over his shoulder and leading me out the door.
*
"Are you hungry?" Dylan asks as his thumb lightly brushes my knuckles and he gazes warmly at me.
"Pancakes don't sound too bad right now," I mutter, smiling sheepishly at him. He glances at the dashboard of the car and then back at me.
"We've got time." he assures me before turning left and coming to a halt at a stop sign. We sit in a comfortable silence for a while before I decide to speak up again.
"I had a very nice time with you Dylan, so thank you," I speak softly, squeezing his warm hand. He unglues his eyes from the road and looks at me, his eyes are soft and his expression subtle.
"And I always have a great time with you, Ali, so thank you for that." he smiles his perfect, dazzling, Dylan smile and I completely melt on the spot.
"Pancake house alright for you?" he asks as he pulls up outside the International House of Pancakes-- IHOP for short.
"It's perfect," I smile gingerly from under my eyelashes.
*
"Ali, would you stop being so stubborn?" Dylan scolds, placing my money back into my hand.
As Dylan has basically paid for everything for me in the whole time I've known him, I insisted he at least let me pay for this meal. So Dylan being Dylan, he obviously was quick to turn down my offer and that's how we engaged in a full on, five-minute 'I'll pay-- no I'll pay' discussion.
"I'm not being stubborn, I'm trying to be nice." I feel cheap. I've never liked having people pull my weight around for me when I'm perfectly capable of doing so myself.
"Look, Ali, as much as I appreciate your offer," he starts, placing his hand over mine, "I'd rather you didn't pay. Just let me do this, ok?" he regards me intently and his pleading eyes are enough to convince me. I'll just find another way to make it up to him.
*
"Ali, wake up." I feel strong hands on my shoulders and as my eyes lazily flutter open, I am greeted by the sight of a very familiar house.
"Huh? Where are we?" I mutter sleepily, only partly coherent words leave my mouth. I hear Dylan chuckle slightly.
"We're home," he reassures me and as my sight finally comes into focus and my brain actually starts to function adequately, I realise that this is Ava's house. We're here.
You know that feeling you get when all the bad things that have happened to you come rushing back, yet you still have to hide the fact that you feel like crap? Yeah, so do I. Thinking about the fact that I'm going to be living here, with Ava, until God knows when, isn't so bad considering she is my best friend.
However, when I remember the reason why I have to be living with her it is enough to decrease my happy mood by a mile. Thoughts of my parents come rushing back into my head as I am once again reminded of the pain of being abandoned by the people who were meant to love me unconditionally.
This gets me thinking, am I really that unlovable? My own parents abandoned me because they didn't love me, they didn't care enough to stay. Will this happen with Dylan too? Will he leave me just like they did? The thought brings a chill to my bones and I banish them immediately.
"Ali, what's wrong?" Dylan asks, apprehension glittering in those dark eyes of his.
"Nothing," I reply instinctively, shaking my head. He regards me intently, giving me his infamous I-don't-believe-you look but I give nothing away. I don't want to talk about this now. Dylan notices my unwillingness to talk and sighs, running a hand through his hair. He knows something is up.
"You can tell me, you know." he coos, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. The chilly afternoon breeze embraces me as fallen leaves race across the concrete path.
"It's nothing, really. I don't want to talk about it now." I mumble, avoiding my gaze from landing on Dylan and instead I focus on his long thumb still racing across my knuckles, leaving tingles behind as it does so. Just as Dylan is about to speak, I hear the front door open and a person come bustling out.
"I thought I heard something out here," the voice booms. Dylan looks in the direction of it and steps back, allowing me to step out of the car and close the door behind me.
"Ali honey, you made it." Ava's mom, Clarissa, embraces me into a loving hug as she kisses both my cheeks.
"And who is this handsome young man?" she asks, eyeing up my boyfriend with that motherly smile on her face.
"This is my boyfriend, Dylan. Dylan, this is Ava's mom, Mrs Arwin." I introduce them.
"Please, you know I how I get when people call me that, Ali," she admonishes me then turns to look at Dylan, "You can cut the politeness crap and just call me Clarissa. Nice to meet you, Dylan." she kisses both his cheeks like she did mine and smiles fondly.
"Likewise Mrs-" he pauses, "Clarissa." Dylan corrects himself and she smiles.
"Well, let's not stand here all day, come in." she motions towards the house with her hand.
"As much as I'd love to stay, I kind of have to take care of a few things," Dylan starts and then takes my hand, "I'll pick you up later ok, baby?"
I nod and he kisses my forehead lightly. As he pulls back, his kiss still lingers and if it wasn't for Ava's mom here, I'd probably launch myself at him.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Clarissa." he nods curtly and she smiles.
"Don't be a stranger," she says in a singsong voice. He flashes his signature smirk and I swear Clarissa was just as affected as I was. After Dylan drives off in his sleek Range Rover, Ava's mom takes my hand and leads me towards the house.
"Come, darling, let's get you inside." She ushers me in and I trail behind her, eager to finally see my best friend again.
*
"Ava has just gone to the store to get a few things but she should be back in a few minutes, make yourself at home, honey." Clarissa tells me, before setting about in the kitchen.
I trod up the familiar path to Ava's room, stalking past the portraits hung up on the white walls and down the long corridor to reach my destination. The amount of times I've walked past here, you'd think this was my house too. Which now, ironically enough, it sort of is... kind of.
Wow, Ava really should learn to be more organised, is my first thought as I lay my eyes upon the mess that is my best friend's bedroom. It looks like there has just been a hurricane in here or something. Ambling past the piles of clothes scattered across the floor, I manage to safely reach her unmade bed. I kick off my shoes and plop myself down in one swift motion. I take out my phone from my pocket and unblock it to find I've got two missed calls and three new texts.
The missed calls are both from Ava and I open one of her texts.
*Why aren't you picking up?*
The other one was also from Ava, it read:
*What time are you back?*
I quickly type a response, informing her that I'm in her very untidy bedroom and open my last text which instantly brings a warmth to my heart. It's from Dylan.
*Miss you already.*
A face splitting grin settles onto my lips as I reread the text again and again. Just as I am about to reply, someone comes barging into the room.
"Ava where the hell did you put my--" Brock's voice falters as his eyes land on me. The last time we spoke was when he was bailing Dylan out of jail. Does he still remember the kiss? Oh God this is so awkward.
"Uh, Ali," he clears his throat awkwardly, "hey."
"Hi," I mumble, my voice so low I almost don't hear it myself. We just stand there, staring at each other awkwardly, searching for something to say.
Why can't he just walk back out?
He takes cautious steps towards me and I start to feel a little uncomfortable and somewhat weary. What does he want?
"Ali, since you're here, I kind of have something to confess," he blurts as he sits down beside me on the bed, making it dip in return.
"Uh," I mutter, not really sure what to say.
Oh no, not now. This always happens when I'm nervous, I completely lose control of my body and become paralysed. I need to get up, I need to run because I don't want to hear what he has to say. But I can't, my stupid muscles have temporarily shut down and I can't move.
He takes hold of my hand, staring deep into my eyes. Oh no.
"I'm just going to come out and say it Ali, I like you, and I have done so for a while now. That kiss," he pauses, as if searching for the right words, "I haven't stopped thinking about it since and I just had to tell you."
Before I could even think, he grabs my face in both his hands and the unwelcome thought of what he might do next comes unbidden into my mind as I continue struggling to actually move. His face inches closer and my eyes widen, afraid of what might happen.
No. No, no, no. Dear lord, please save me. I can't pull back, I can't remove myself from this situation. I try my hardest to move my head but my muscles still don't respond.
Stupid brain!
His warm breath tickles my lips in a most unpleasant way and he's millimetres away from kissing me. Just as he's about to make me regret ever being born, from the corner of my eye I notice the door swing open.
Shit.
Brock quickly pulls back and I sit still, releasing probably the loudest sigh of relief ever recorded since Adam and Eve first set foot on earth.
"Sorry uh, am I interrupting--" Ava starts and I cut her off.
"No, of course not, why would you? Come in," I babble nervously. Did I seriously just invite Ava into her own bedroom?
She firstly stares at me reluctantly, before Brock gets on his feet and scurries out. Ava then shakes her head as she rushes up to me and embraces me into the tightest bear hug ever.
Well someone sure missed me.
"I'm so glad you're back Ali, things have been so tough around here without you." she tells me and I know exactly what, or should I say, who she's on about.
"Where is she?" I ask as my lips set into a hard line.
"You seriously want to meet her?" she asks, giving me a look of pity and disbelief.
"Why not? Besides, how bad could she really be?"
As soon as those words leave my mouth, Ava scoffs and takes my hand, presumably to lead me to the devil's den. She slowly opens the door to the guest bedroom and her action reminds me of a zookeeper attempting to approach a savage, untamed lion in the wild.
"Can I come in?" Ava mumbles, her voice drowning with uncertainty.
"Well you've already opened the door," a disembodied voice snaps before Ava fully opens the door to give me a clear view of what Ava calls and I quote, "the devil herself".
My first impression is that she looks like one of those stereotypical, snobby cheerleaders. Her blond, short hair cascades down her thin face and onto her slim shoulders. Her deep blue eyes hold a spiteful glint to them and I know already that she isn't going to be the nicest of people.
"Who the hell is this?" Blond Cheerleader snaps, her icy blue eyes scrutinise me, running from my head to toe. Her lips curl upwards in a form of disgust and I instinctively know I won't like her anymore than I like that stupid Jason Scott. I can tell already that from now on, life won't be as calm and mellow as it once used to be.
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A/N: So guys, sorry for all of the time jumps in this chapter but I just needed to get Dali out of Savannah already and back to Atlanta. But if you have any questions about this story please feel free to comment or message me. Don't be afraid to post any constructive criticism either because it's always welcome :)
Thanks a lot for reading and until next time! :D