by Amanda Abram
“Okay, honey,” she said from the kitchen. “See you later, Dylan!”
“Goodbye, Mrs. Briggs,” he called to her before I led him out the front door.
“So,” he said to me as we slowly made our way down the driveway to his car. “That phone call you made earlier—was that to Lauren?”
“Mmhmm,” I said with a nod.
“Has she made any progress yet?” he asked. I’d told him on our way home from school that afternoon that Lauren had agreed to help us with our Elijah problem, and he had been relieved to hear that. Mostly, I think, because he knew that meant she approved of us being together.
“Not yet. She’s taking things slow, so it won’t be obvious to them what she’s trying to do. She seems convinced she’ll be able to come up with a solid plan that will get them back together, though.”
“Good. I hope so.” Dylan suddenly stopped walking and held his arm out in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. “Watch out for the ice right there,” he warned, pointing to a small patch of it in front of us. He had a look of amusement on his face, which could only mean one thing: he was remembering the night he’d saved me from almost falling on my butt next to his car. The same night we almost kissed for the first time.
I took an exaggerated step over the ice. “I won’t make that same mistake twice.” I turned to him and smiled. “You know, I think that’s when I started seeing you in a different light. The way you dropped that bag of Kung Pao Chicken leftovers that night to save my life—without even a second thought—warmed my heart.” I made a fist and brought it to the center of my chest for added effect.
Dylan chuckled. “Yeah, well, there are at least four Chinese food restaurants within a ten-mile radius that serve Kung Pao Chicken. There’s only one of you.”
“Aww, shucks,” I said coyly, tucking my hair behind my ear and staring down at the ground.
When he was silent for a moment, I lifted my gaze to find him staring at me with a wistful smile on his face. “I really wanted to kiss you that night,” he said so softly, his voice was almost a whisper.
My heart skipped a beat. “I really wanted you to kiss me, too,” I whispered back.
He took a step closer to me and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Do you want to know when I started seeing you in a different light?”
“Hmm. Let me guess.” I tapped my finger against my chin as I glanced up at the darkening sky. “Was it after the pretend birth of our pretend child?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Okay. Was it when you saw me beat the crap out of that punching bag at the gym?”
“No,” he said with a chuckle. “Although, that did make me fear you a little bit.”
“Good,” I said proudly, and then threw my hands up in defeat. “Okay, then, I give up. When did you start to see me in a different light?”
He hesitated for a moment before he spoke. “It was last year. The last day of school. Half the kids in our class spent the whole day at the beach. I was just hanging out and talking with some of the guys when I happened to look toward the parking lot, and I saw you sitting on the hood of Elijah’s car—all alone—just staring out at the ocean. You looked sad.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “I was sad,” I said as the memory of that day came flooding back. “Elijah had spent the first part of the afternoon staring at Hannah in her bikini, and then the rest of the day hanging out with her and her friends. I had to wonder if he even remembered I was there. Eventually, I just took off without telling him. I wanted to see how long it would take for him to notice I was gone and come looking for me.” I paused and crossed my arms tightly over my chest. “It was the first time I ever questioned whether I was the girl he wanted to be with.”
“Yeah, I figured it had to do with Elijah,” Dylan said softly. “That’s why I went over to talk to you. To distract you from your thoughts. To try to cheer you up.”
My smile returned to my face as I recalled him approaching me that afternoon. Elijah and I had only been dating for a couple of months at that time, so Dylan and I hadn’t gotten to know each other all that well yet. So, I was surprised when he’d asked to join me on the hood of Elijah’s car, and was even more surprised when we ended up having a long, meaningful conversation about the most random stuff.
“We talked for nearly an hour,” I said.
“We did,” he said with a nod, and then stared down at the ground, as if he no longer dared to make eye contact with me. “Near the end of our conversation, I looked over at you, and you were smiling at me, and…I don’t know, the sunlight was hitting you just right or something. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was stare at you because…because in that moment, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.”
I stared at him, numb, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. “Dylan—”
“And I suddenly realized how fun and easy you were to talk to,” he added before I could say anything else. “And how I really, really enjoyed spending time with you. But then Elijah showed up, saying he’d been looking everywhere for you, and as he leaned in and kissed you, I was hit with another realization: that you were my best friend’s girl, and that I wasn’t supposed to be having thoughts like that about you. So, after I left the two of you alone in the parking lot, I stopped having them. I buried them and made a conscious effort to keep as much distance from you as possible. But then we got paired up for that project and you and Elijah broke up. And I guess I hadn’t buried those thoughts deep enough because, Cass, I fell for you. Hard.”
Hot tears sprang to my eyes as Dylan finally returned his gaze to mine. I could pinpoint the exact moment he had just described to me from seven months ago. I remembered exactly what was going through my head when I had smiled at him. He was being so sweet and making me forget about how worried I was that Elijah was still in love with Hannah, and I remembered thinking that moment would be the beginning of something special between us. Like we would become close friends. I wanted that. But we never shared another moment like that again. We remained casual acquaintances and nothing more, linked to each other only because of our relationships with Elijah.
And now I knew why.
“Dylan,” I whispered again. I didn’t know what to say. I was speechless. So, I didn’t say anything at all. Instead, I wiped away the tears before they had a chance to fall, and then I leaned in, lifted myself up on my tiptoes, and I kissed him.
He only let my lips linger for a few seconds before pulling away slightly. He smiled as his eyes searched my face. “What are you doing? Your mom and your sister could be watching us through a window right now.”
Just in case he might be right, I glanced past his shoulder and saw no immediate evidence that was the case. “Honestly, I don’t care.”
That was all he needed to hear. Letting his backpack slide off his shoulder and fall to the ground, Dylan placed his hands gently against either side of my face and returned his lips to mine in a kiss so urgent and demanding, it nearly took my breath away.
A girl could get used to this.
I wrapped my arms tightly around his back and pulled him close as I kissed him back. This was neither the perfect environment nor setting to be making out, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care that the temperature outside was below freezing. I didn’t care that Mom or Caitlyn could be watching. I didn’t care that we were on full display for the whole neighborhood to see.
But I should have cared. I should have given some careful thought and consideration to what we were doing before allowing myself to get lost in the moment. To lose track of time. I should have reminded myself of the No-Option-One rule that I had declared not even an hour ago and given Dylan a hearty handshake instead. Or a fist bump. Maybe even a simple hug.
Anything but a kiss.
I never heard the car approach my driveway, but if I had, I probably would have just assumed it was my dad. He usually arrived home from work around that time every day. It wasn’t until I heard a c
ar door slam shut that I knew someone was there; someone had witnessed me and Dylan kissing.
And it wasn’t my father.
It was Elijah.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
This wasn’t part of the plan. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. It was why the No-Option-One rule had been created in the first place—to make sure we wouldn’t slip up and get caught by the one person we did not want to get caught by.
Elijah.
Yes, we should have known better than to kiss each other outside on a public street for anyone to see, but there was literally no reason I could think of as to why Elijah would be stopping by my house unannounced. Especially the day after I told him it was over between us for good. Yet, there he was, standing at the end of my driveway with an unreadable expression on his face. No anger. No surprise or shock. Just a blank, dead stare.
It was almost unnerving.
Dylan and I broke apart as soon as we saw him and quickly stepped away from each other.
“Elijah,” I managed to croak. “W-what are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer right away, just continued to stare. But then after a few painfully uncomfortable seconds, his eyes finally focused on me. “I was cleaning out my car,” he said almost robotically, “and I found this.” Slowly, he lifted his right hand to show me what he was hanging onto. “It’s that missing glove you’ve been looking for.”
I was confused for a moment until I remembered that I was, indeed, missing a glove. I had lost it back in November, but I was never too concerned about it because I had other pairs to wear. It wasn’t a big deal. I figured I must have dropped it in a parking lot somewhere and had given up on the idea of ever finding it.
But evidently, I’d just dropped it inside Elijah’s car, and it had gotten buried under months-worth of fast food wrappers, soda bottles, and other assorted garbage. And since he had never once cleaned out his car while we were together, it was no surprise it had taken him this long to find it.
“Um…” was all I could say. It was nice that he had found the glove and all, but why had he felt the need to return it to me right away? Why couldn’t he have just waited and given it to me at school the next day?
The answer was obvious: he’d just wanted an excuse to see me.
“I was in the neighborhood,” he continued, his monotone voice growing harder with each word. “So, I figured I’d stop by to drop it off and—” He raked a hand through his hair as his face crumpled into a look of confusion mixed with anger. Lots of anger. “I’m sorry—what the hell is going on here?”
I didn’t know how to answer that question. We hadn’t prepared any sort of speech or explanation yet. I figured we had at least until Lauren had successfully completed Project Elijannah to come up with something. I figured we would eventually write something out, memorize it, and rehearse it until it was perfect. Until we were sure we could break the news to Elijah without destroying friendships in the process.
But that opportunity was now gone. We would just have to wing it and hope for the best.
Dylan spoke first. “Elijah, we need to talk.”
I was surprised at how calm he sounded, and even more surprised by how calm he looked. How was he not freaking out about this? I felt like I was about to throw up, and could only imagine I looked like it, too.
“Let me guess,” Elijah said; his voice suddenly colder than the below-freezing air surrounding us. “This isn’t what it looks like?”
That phrase sounded familiar. It was the same phrase he’d used on me the night I’d caught him kissing Hannah in the back seat of his car.
“No,” Dylan said, shaking his head. “It’s exactly what it looks like. But that’s why we need to talk.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Cass and I…we’ve fallen for each other and we want to be together.”
I froze as I watched Elijah’s eyes lower to our joined hands. For a moment, his expression remained blank before he suddenly burst out into a fit of humorless laughter.
My stomach twisted into a knot. This couldn’t be good. “Elijah,” I began, but he immediately interrupted me.
“This is a joke, right?” he asked, his laughter slowly beginning to subside. “You two somehow found out I was on my way over here, so you staged a kiss and now you’re pretending to be in love with each other as some sort of sick prank?” He paused as his eyes hardened and the laughter disappeared. “Because that would be the only explanation as to why I just caught my best friend making out with the girl I still love.”
“Elijah,” I tried again, as calmly as possible. “It’s not a joke. We were going to tell you. I swear. We just didn’t know how to.”
Slack-jawed, Elijah glanced from me to Dylan and then back to me. “How long has this been going on?” Narrowing his eyes, he added, “Were you two going behind my back while we were still together?”
“No!” I cried, horrified that he would even think for one second that I would have cheated on him.
Next to me, Dylan snorted and muttered under his breath, “Yeah, she’s not a cheater like you.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Puffing out his chest, Elijah glared over at Dylan. “Excuse me?”
“This hasn’t been going on long at all,” I chimed in quickly, answering his first question to distract him from Dylan’s comment. “Less than a week, actually.”
A look of realization flashed across his face. “Oh. So, that’s why you were at his house yesterday. It wasn’t to help him clean up after the party, it was to…” The realization quickly disappeared and was replaced by nausea. “And I probably interrupted something, didn’t I?” He pushed another hand through his hair as he began pacing back and forth in front of us.
Instead of answering his question, I let go of Dylan’s hand and took a step forward. “Elijah, it’s freezing out here. Why don’t we go inside the house and talk about thi—”
“No.” He stopped pacing. A muscle in his jaw twitched as his hands began forming fists at his side. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“But—”
“I need some time to process this and to figure out how to remove the knife from my back.” He lifted his narrowed gaze to Dylan before turning and heading back toward his car.
I couldn’t let him leave. I had to explain everything to him. Like how Dylan and I had never planned for this to happen. Like how we’d even tried to fight it because of Elijah.
There had to be a way to get through to him. To make him understand. To keep him from hating both me and Dylan forever.
I moved forward to go after him, but my steps were halted when I heard Dylan speak behind me.
“You aren’t allowed to be mad at me for this,” he called out after Elijah, his voice eerily calm.
Elijah opened the door to his car and then stopped. He stood perfectly still for a moment before turning back around and staring blankly at Dylan. “What did you say?”
A feeling of dread pooled in my stomach as Dylan slowly walked past me toward Elijah. “Dylan,” I warned in a low voice.
But he ignored me. “I said you’re not allowed to be mad at me. You cheated on her, Elijah. You broke her heart. You can’t be mad at me for being there to pick up the pieces. For being there for her. She was my friend.”
“Your friend?” Elijah scoffed. “You think Cassie was your friend? She couldn’t stand you. She thought you were annoying. She hated whenever you tagged along with us on dates and she always tried to get me to ditch you. Doesn’t sound like a friend to me.”
That was so not true. Sure, sometimes during my relationship with Elijah, I had found Dylan to be annoying. At times, it felt like he was always around, and I could never get a moment alone with my boyfriend. But I still liked him. I was his friend.
“In fact,” Elijah continued, “I’ll bet she doesn’t even really have feelings for you. She’s just pretending to like you to get back at me. Is that it, Cassie?”
Appalled at his accusation, I inhaled
sharply as both boys turned to look at me. “Of course not,” I snapped. “Why would you even suggest that?”
“Because!” he bellowed; the sudden volume change in his voice making me flinch. “This doesn’t make any sense to me! You and Dylan don’t make any sense!”
We should have just let Elijah get in his car and leave. I could tell he was growing more and more agitated with every second that passed, and the longer he stayed, the more likely he and Dylan would either do or say something they would both regret.
“Look,” I said calmly, holding my arm out toward Elijah, “if you don’t want to talk about this right now, that’s fine. Why don’t you just go home, cool off, and we can talk about it some other time—”
“No,” Elijah said, slamming his car door shut. “You know what? I’ve changed my mind; I do want to talk about this right now.” He sauntered over to where Dylan was standing and stopped when they were only inches apart. Poking his finger into the center of Dylan’s chest, he said, “I want to start by asking my best friend where he thinks he gets off stealing my girl from me.”
Dylan, seemingly unfazed by Elijah’s proximity, swatted Elijah’s finger away. “I didn’t steal her away, Elijah.” He took a step back and shook his head. “You screwed up and you lost her. It’s not my fault.”
Elijah opened his mouth to say something, but Dylan wasn’t finished.
“This—” Dylan motioned a hand between me and himself. “This is all your fault, Elijah. You have nobody but yourself to blame.”
I could see a vein in Elijah’s neck bulge, and I knew that Dylan was skating on thin ice. Why was he intentionally trying to make the situation worse?
“This wouldn’t have happened if you had just kept your hands to yourself at Tiana’s party that night.” Dylan was on the verge of yelling now, looking just as—if not more—pissed off than Elijah. “Better yet, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t turned down my offer to switch partners for that project after you pulled Hannah’s name out of the bowl.”
