I spend the whole lunch glaring deadly at Dylan, who was still giggling from the incident earlier. Since we just got here, the school decided for us to eat at the hotel’s restaurant. The food was good, but everyone likes to eat outside rather than in the hotel when they’re on vacation, right? But again, we’re not on a vacation, so…
“Kaylie,” Dylan starts. I ignore him. He smirks and calls me again, “Kaylie.”
“Whaaat?” I whine, frowning as I turn to look at him.
“I didn’t see anything, stop giving me the silent treatment.” He pouts, I roll my eyes.
“I’m not a kid, I’m not giving you a silent treatment.” I state as I continue eating.
He tilts his head, “Then stop giving me the monkey face, I didn’t see anything for real!”
“Okay okay. Now would you please EAT?” I scold, he chuckles and finally eats his food.
I hear Anna raises the mic and turn to look at her.
“We have 10 more minutes until the bus will be coming over to drive us to the Musical Museum guys!” says Anna over the mic. “Anyone who needs anything, you guys better go to your room and get it.”
Dylan turns to me, “You have the key?”
“Yes, dad.” I answer as I point to my side bag. I finish up my soup bowl and reapply my chapstick after wiping my mouth. Catherine runs in from nowhere. “Boo!”
I jump and drop my chapstick onto the floor. “Cath!” I say, “That’s my favorite one!”
She chuckles and picks the chapstick up, then cleaning the top with a napkin. “There,” she gives it to me, “Good as new.”
“Good my ass.” I roll my eyes and tuck it back into my sweater’s pocket. Anna calls and I walk to the bus with Catherine, using up my time without Dylan the jerk always sticking besides me. Seriously, we sleep in the same room but he doesn’t have to hold my shirt’s hem like a lost child.
We take the seats at the far back, and I quickly doze off the sleep. I guess it’s the jetlag effect.
. . .
The Musical Museum is not as boring as I expected. It is actually really cool. There are these mix of musics they did between like 50 instruments and we learn where different specific instruments come from and made of. Ugh, the worst part is we’re going to have to write a paper on this that is worth like 20% of the course’s grade. And then we have another project. Joy.
I take pictures of things that are important so that my life could be easier when the paper comes. I’m a viasualize person, so...
. . .
I throw my bag onto the bed and plop right on it the moment Dylan and I come into our room. I am SO. TIRED.
“Do you want to go for some drink? I’m hot as hell.” Dylan says. Did he just say he’s hot? I mean, yeah he’s hot, but-
It’s not THAT kind of hot. My inner brain tells me to shut up.
I hug my pillow. “No, I just want to sleep.”
“You slept for 15 hours today already.” Dylan rolls his eyes. I ignore him and crawl under my sheets.
“Go shower or something. I’ll think about it later.” I shout out from my blanket.
“Think about what?”
I push the blanket out of my face, “About going for some drinks, you dumbass.” I roll my eyes, then I pull the blanket over my head again.
After 15 minutes or so, Dylan comes out with only his pants on, his hair dripping wet. I rub my eyes and stared at him, dumbfound.
“Are you checking on me?” Dylan smirks. I scoff.
“Right, checking on you. Riiiiiight.”
He dries his hair, “Well, you’re drooling, that proves something.”
I touched the corners of my mouth, then realize he just trolled me. I scowled.
“Dylan Carter!”
He chuckles and puts on a shirt. Then he sits on the bed next to me. I move away.
“You’re treating me like I have STDs.” He rolls his eyes. I laugh.
“Well, with the amount of girls you sleep with…”
He frowns, “Hey! I do not…”
I lift my eyebrow, “Oh yeah?”
He doesn’t answer. I look at him and then reach over for my phone. It’s almost 6.
“Let’s go for a drink. You said you’re paying right?” I wink.
“I never said that, Kaylie.” He gives me something that looks half smirk half smile. “But for you I’d pay.” He winks back my way. I roll my eyes and go to get my chapstick on the table.
“Let’s go, before I change my mind because you have STDs.”
“Kaylie Taylor…” He warns, I just smiled devishly and skip out the door, leaving him to follow behind.
We walk down the streets as I google on my phone where to have desserts in Vienna. Finally, I find a near Café shop called Souls (sounds kinda deep right? I know…) and I call Tiramisu and a hot chocolate. Dylan calls a milk coffee and vanilla ice-cream.
“Ew, you’re a guy and you’re eating vanilla?” I tease.
“Oh so there’s rules for eating ice-cream too huh, how ice-creamism.” He chuckles.
The desserts come out and we chat about random shits and teasing each other as we eat. No one mention anything from 3 years ago, it is quite relaxing and enjoyable. Being friends is fun, but whenever I think back to what he did 3 years ago, I couldn’t just treat him like normal, like nothing ever happened. Like, c’mon guy… he cheated on me.
After we – Dylan – pays, we scroll down on the streets of Vienna and go back to the hotel. Part of me reminds myself not to get too close to him, but the other part says it was less stressful being “normal” (or pretend to) with him. I push my thoughts away and drift to sleep.
. . .
I wake up to the sound of Dylan shouting, not my alarm – although my alarm was also beeping like crazy. Oh hell no, Dylan’s shouting and alarm, what a terrible combination of noises. I cover my ears.
“Kaylie fucking Taylor, turn that fucking alarm off.” He yells.
I roll on my side, still covering my ears, “How about you stop shouting and get up and DO IT.”
“It’s yours, mine’s not even until 8.”
I groan, turning over and try so hard to peak my eyes open to actually see where my phone is. Then I take it and slide the screen. The alarm stops.
“Thank God.” Dylan mutters. I silently cry because it is too early to wake up but recalling what Anna said, we’d have to be in the lobby by 8:30. I jump out of bed and walk with my eyes close to the bathroom.
I flash cold water onto my face and feel a bit more awake. I pick up my toothbrush and squeeze toothpaste. After finishing doing what I need to, I grab the towel and wipe my face as I go out. As soon as I take the towel from my face, I bump into something and fall to the ground before a pair of hands reaches out to grab me. I bounce right back up and hit Dylan’s chest.
Dylan is awake now, and is looking down at me. I embarrassingly look at him and feel my heartbeat picks up its speed. I swear I think he can hear it, because his eyes quickly flicker to my lips. I nervously shake.
His hands have gone from my elbows to the sides of my hips. Why aren’t I pushing him out? Click click, wake up Kaylie! Push this jerk out of your body.
But I do not. My hands still holding on to the towel is now laying on his chest. STOP, Kaylie. My heart tells me. Don’t fall for this again. I ignore everything.
Dylan is now slowly lowering his head and I know exactly what is happening, yet I don’t seem to plan to stop it. His lips were inches away from mine and my eyes want to close, and suddenly...
Dylan’s alarm goes off.
I jump away from him, my hand on my chest, where my heart is. He moves back, looking at me, then goes and turn his alarm off. I stand there like a fool. God, Kaylie. How can you be so stupid?
“I… um…” Dylan murmurs. I fake a chuckle, “Go wash up, we need to leave soon.”
He nods and goes into the bathroom.
. . .
“…and is to know your stock certificate percentages…”
I yawn as I check the phone. Still a good 15 minutes before this lecture is over. Well, I call it a lecture. Others call it an ‘interesting learning experiences’.
We are at a Music Record, learning about how to manage your musical business effectively. I’m bored to death because this old man has been talking for 2 hours. At first, I jot down important points. Now; I’m just too tired and try to listen as I record the lecture into my phone. I am interested in Music Business and Management, but this guy here just ruined my interest.
I look at Catherine besides me; and she looks just as bored. I nudge her arm and chuckle inaudibly, and she just smiles and rolls her eyes.
My eyes find Dylan 2 rows in front, and he is staring at me, mouthing something.
“Bored?” He gestures. I nod and move my head as in ‘Obviously.’
He smiles. “10 more minutes, I’ll buy to ice-cream later.” He mouths again.
I raise a thumb, “Deal”. I whisper.
What happened this morning was awkward, of course. But for the sake of our “fake friends” deal, Dylan and I agreed to pretend that it never happened. There is tension, sure, but we ignore it, just so that it would be easier living in the same room, I guess.
. . .
“Thank God it’s over,” I complain for the 80th time. “I thought I might have died.”
Catherine gives me a bottle of water. “Thanks.” I mutter.
“You’re just exaggerating, it wasn’t that pathetic,” she laughs.
I roll my eyes. “Believe me. It is bad.”
“Kaylie!” Dylan calls me from the gate.
“Oh dear.” I say, “The annoying jerk is back.”
Catherine winks at me, “Oh yeah? Seems like you and the jerk have been growing close.”
I smack her arm, “Close my butt. It’s only because he pays for my ice cream.” I smirk, “See you later.”
Catherine waves and I walk to Dylan. “Let’s go, you pig.”
“Did you just call me a pig?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Well, you eat like one and you sleep like one…” He says and I look like I want to punch him. “Just kidding, Ms. Grumpy.” He chuckles.
We walk for 20 minutes before Dylan turns to me, “Do you want to go for dinner? I mean, it’s getting kinda dark for ice-cream.”
I stop walking. Dinner? Doesn’t that get too close to a date? And last I check, I hate him to my guts. So no, I don’t think so.
“I don’t-“ I begin, but he cuts me off, like reading my mind.
“It’s just dinner. Nothing more.” He blinks like a girl, “Please?”
“But-“ I start again.
He blinks harder, “Pretty please?!”
I roll my eyes as I exhale, “But what about ice-cream?”
He stops blinking. “I’ll treat you ice-cream tomorrow morning.”
I really don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t do this.
It proves you are afraid because you might love him again. A part of my brain says.
Another argues, Yeah, but I’ve spent three years hating his guts. Why the hell would I go to dinner with him!?
Just as friends, oh my God. He pays, that’s so many pros.
Yeah, but the big cons-
Just be quiet you two! I shout at myself.
Should I do this? God, why am I hesitating? If I don’t have feelings for him and I totally hate him, then this wouldn’t change anything, right?
“Okay.” I shrug. Dylan’s mouth widens and we go to a restaurant he knows.
. . .
I’ll admit, it is quite relaxing to have dinner with Dylan. No awkwardness or anything in between, despite the fact we almost kissed this morning. Poking the steak with my fork, I put it in my mouth and chew, before catching Dylan’s eyes on me. I blush, but mentally slap myself out of it.
We make nonsense talks (as usual) in between and go walking at night in Vienna after dinner. If I am not cursing on him, this might have been a perfect date. But it’s not. No, not now. Not ever.
Dylan stops and buys me a flying balloon with a shape of a cloud from some random man on the sidewalk, and I chuckle.
“How old do you think I am? Five?”
He smirks, “Well, you do act like 5 sometimes.”
I laugh, and chase him on the streets jokingly as he runs.
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