He Looked Back

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He Looked Back Page 35

by Hollandaise, Melissa


  “But I want to see the African animals,” I whine.

  “We can see them later, let’s just go see the sea lions.”“But—”

  I’m interrupted by Dylan turning around, looking down at something.

  A small boy of about four tugs at Dylan’s pant leg, a distraught expression on his young face. He has blonde hair and his cheeks are red from the cold, his little eyes watery.

  “What’s wrong?” Dylan asks, his voice soft as he bends down to speak to the boy.

  “I—I can’t find my mom,” the boy says, hiccupping.

  “You can’t find your mum?”

  He shakes his head, his lower lip trembling.

  “Don’t cry now, junior, we’ll help you find your mummy,” Dylan says gently. “I’m Dylan, and that’s Katie.”I wave to the small boy who nods slightly, his arms wrapped around Dylan’s leg tightly.

  “What’s your name?” Dylan asks kindly.

  “Ryan,” the boy answers.

  “Ryan,” Dylan repeats. “We’ll help you find your mum, alright?”“Where did you see her last?” I ask Ryan.

  “B-by the elephants,” the boy says.

  “Alright, now let’s go see if she’s there, waiting for you,” Dylan says. Ryan nods again, but doesn’t loosen his grip on Dylan’s pant leg.

  “I think it would be more comfortable for the both of us if you let go of my trouser leg, now,” Dylan says, his tone humorous, but still soft.

  The boy nods quickly, releasing Dylan’s leg, but reaching up and gripping his hand.

  I’m in awe at how gentle and caring Dylan is being with this child—he doesn’t seem like the type to like kids very much.

  We begin walking toward the elephant exhibit, Ryan grasping Dylan’s hand tightly. The sight of it almost makes my heart melt.

  We enter the exhibit, looking around for someone that might resemble this boy’s mother.

  “There!” Ryan cries, releasing Dylan’s hand and running toward a frantic woman who was talking to a zookeeper.

  She looks down as he runs to her, crouching down and opening her arms wide as he hugs her.

  She lifts him off the ground, kissing his forehead and speaking to him. It’s a sweet and beautiful thing to watch.

  The woman asks the boy something, and he turns in her arms, pointing back towards us.

  She smiles at us, mouthing, “thank you.”

  I smile back and Dylan nods.

  We walk back out of the elephant exhibit.

  “You were really sweet with him, Dylan,” I say.

  He shrugs. “I like kids.”

  I smile. “I think you’re going to be a great dad.”

  “You think so?”

  I nod, still beaming at him.

  “Well, I think I deserve a pretzel after that. What do you say, Katie?”“I couldn’t agree more.”

  “And after that, we’ll go see the sea lions.”

  “You mean the African animals.”

  We laugh and walk over to the refreshment area, ordering our pretzels. This time, I successfully pay.

  We sit a table overlooking the concert green space that Dylan tells me holds music concerts during the summer. I ask him if the music is any good, and he tells me he’ll take me to one of the concerts this summer.

  “Do you ever want kids, Katherine?” Dylan asks me as pulls apart his pretzel.

  “Some day, maybe,” I say. “How about you?”

  He shrugs. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

  “How could you not have thought about it?”

  “I’ve been living the same, routine life for five years, Katie. I have a good job, a good place to live. I’ve just never had any reason to think of the future.”I nod. “I guess so.”

  “Do you see yourself getting married?”

  “Yes, I think. I mean, I don’t know. I’d like to.”

  “Oh? And what’s your dream wedding?” He bats his eyelashes girlishly and I laugh.

  “I’d keep it simple, traditional,” I say, taking a sip of my water. “Nothing too fancy.”“And who do you see meeting you at the altar?”

  “Oh, I think that’s pretty apparent,” I say, smirking.

  “Is it?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “Zac Efron, obviously,” I scoff and Dylan laughs loudly.

  “Interesting choice,” he says.

  “Only the best choice,” I say. “I mean, you have to admit, he’s attractive.”“Sorry, Katie, I don’t go down that road.” Dylan smirks and finishes his pretzel, dropping his napkin on the table in front of him.

  “Come on. Anyone would want fries with that shake!”

  Dylan puts his head in his hands, shaking with laughter. “Katie, oh my God.”I grin and throw my trash away as Dylan stands up, still shaking his head.

  “Best thing you’ve ever said,” he says as we walk back out onto the path leading through the zoo.

  I smirk, waiting as Dylan digs the map out of his pocket.

  “Can we please go see the African animals?” I ask once he unravels it.

  “Katie.”

  “Please!” I tug his arm like an impatient child.

  “But—”

  “Come on, if the sea lions are the best, let’s save the best for last.”He groans. “Fine.”

  I unconsciously link my arm through his triumphantly, leading him toward the entrance to the African section.

  When I notice our arms are linked, I pull away quickly, flushing. “Sorry,” I say.

  “It’s alright, Katie. You’re quite warm.” He smirks and pulls my arm back through his.

  We enter the exhibit, linked at the arms.

  I marvel at the giraffes, pointing to the model of how long their tongues are. Dylan wrinkles his nose and says he’s sure their tongues get in the way when they kiss. I roll my eyes at him and say that I’m sure giraffes don’t kiss, and we smirk at each other again.

  Dylan drags me to see the rhinos, saying that he’s thinking of getting a rhinoceros horn for his apartment. It’s my turn to wrinkle my nose at him, and he laughs, assuring me that he was only kidding.

  We stare at the crocodiles as they sit lazily in their swamp habitat. Dylan says one of them could snap you in half in an instant, and I tell him to quit putting graphic images in my mind. He responds with a smirk, as usual.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad,” I say once we finish seeing all the animals in the African exhibit.

  “Yeah, that cheetah looked like it wanted to kill you,” he says. “If it had, my life would be a lot easier.”“Hey!” I nudge him, removing my arm from his and crossing my arms over my chest.

  “I’m kidding, Katie, I wouldn’t want a cheetah to eat you,” he says, pulling my arm back through his. “Perhaps the leopard, but not that cheetah.”I try to hide my laugh, but I fail and he laughs too.

  “On to the sea lions!”

  However, on our way to the Pacific Shores section of the zoo, Dylan catches sight of the insect exhibit and practically drags me into it.

  “I don’t like insects,” I groan as we walk through the doors.

  “They’re cool!”

  “They’re gross.”

  Dylan points to a large tarantula. “What would you do if I released ten of those into your apartment?”“I would vomit, cry, scream, and faint at the same time,” I say, eyeing the fuzzy spider warily.

  “All at once? That would be something to see.”

  I wrinkle my nose the whole way through the exhibit as Dylan marvels at each of the disgusting invertebrates.

  Finally, we make it to the sea lions.

  The exhibit is quite amazing, actually. It’s a dark room you walk into, with benches and a huge glass window where you can see the sea lions swim back and forth, playing and racing one another.

  Dylan and I sit on one of the benches, watching them swim rapidly across the large pool.

  “Cool, isn’t it?” Dylan asks.

  “So cool,” I agree.

  We watch them for awhile. I rest
my head on his shoulder, sighing.

  “Aren’t you glad we came here instead of staying at work?” Dylan asks, his voice teasing.

  “Yes,” I admit.

  “I named one of the sea lions last time I was here,” he tells me.

  “What did you name it?”

  “Ethan, because it reminds me of Ethan.”

  “How could a sea lion remind you of Ethan?” I laugh.

  “I don’t know.” Dylan laughs, too. “It just does.”

  “Interesting.” I giggle.

  “And I think I’ll name that one Katie, because it reminds me of you.” He points to one of the creatures as it glides past the glass.

  “Fine, then that one’s Dylan.” I point to a third sea lion.

  “Look at us, naming sea lions like a couple of zookeepers.”We laugh again.

  Although I don’t know where I stand with Dylan, today made me momentarily forget about everything with Lyone and my declaration of love for Dylan. I know Dylan will never love me, but as of right now, I’m fine with just watching sea lions with him.

  We stay for a bit longer before deciding it’s time to leave.

  On the way home, Dylan puts a CD into the car and tells me I need to listen to more music, and he’s going to show me the best music out there.

  “Panic! At the Disco,” Dylan says as the opening notes to the first song flood through the car. “One of the best Britainn bands out there.”“Why do I have to know them, again?”

  “Because I said so.” He smirks.

  I sigh and lean back in my seat, listening to the music as it fills the car.

  I watch Dylan as he talks about the music, educating me on each song. At one point, a song begins and I sit up.

  “I like this one,” I say.

  “This one?” Dylan turns up the volume.

  I nod, listening to the sounds.

  “Far Too Young To Die,” Dylan tells me. “That’s the name of the song.”“It’s nice,” I say.

  He smiles slightly. “Yeah, it is.”

  We listen to each of the words as it plays, Dylan tapping his hands on the steering wheel to the beat. His lips move to the words, and I wonder how many times he’s listened to this song.

  “Give me one last kiss for the far too young to die,” we sing together at the second chorus, laughing at each other as the guitar picks up.

  The rest of the album plays through, and when it finishes I tell Dylan to play it again, and we’ve played it through twice by the time we get back to Crane.

  Dylan walks me to my car, his hands in his pockets.

  “Race you home,” I say, smirking.

  “You’re on, Katie!” He rushes back to his car, shifting it into drive just as I do.

  I giggle like a lunatic the whole drive home, keeping my eyes on Dylan’s car.

  We’re careful to be quiet as we race each other up the stairs, not wanting to disturb Mr. Wu again.

  We stumble into Dylan’s apartment, me just a little ahead of him.

  “I win again!” I shout.

  “Fucking hell!” Dylan throws a pillow from the couch to the ground, shaking his head. “Why do you always beat me?”“Because maybe I’m the god here,” I say, smirking.

  “Impossible,” Dylan scoffs.

  “I believe you owe me a Snickers.”

  “We didn’t agree on that.”

  “Fine, I’ll get one myself—”

  Dylan races past me, standing in front of the cabinet protectively. “No,” he snaps. He turns and retrieves two candy bars from his “stash”, handing me one.

  We sit on the couch, smirking at each other yet again. I suddenly find myself thinking how happy we could both be if Dylan only loved me back.

  I shake the thought away and stand to leave.

  “I had fun today,” I tell him. “Thanks for dragging me to the zoo.”He smirks. “You don’t want to...stay?”

  I sigh. “I don’t think I should.”

  His face falls a bit. “Why not?”

  “I mean nothing to you, remember?”

  He frowns, looking down.

  I swallow and walk back towards the door. “I’ll see you at work.”“Katie, wait.” Dylan stands.

  I look back expectantly.

  He wants to say something, I know he does. It’s on the tip of his tongue, it shows through his eyes.

  Say something, Dylan. Anything.

  He looks down again.

  “See you at work,” I say, sighing and walking out the door, shutting it closed behind me.

  Chapter Sixty Two

  “We need to act soon.”

  Everyone nods their heads, agreeing with George’s statement.

  We’re congregated in Dylan’s apartment again, leaning over the boys’ work schedules with Lyone for the next week. All their shifts are relatively around the same time for keeping guard outside of Ivory, and they all attend the same meetings.

  It’s been a week since Dylan and my trip to the zoo, and we haven’t spoken much. It wasn’t as bad as after I told him I love him, but it hasn’t been exactly comfortable.

  “I think we need to tell Crane,” I say.

  All eyes turn to me.

  I straighten up. “Think about it. We’ve been putting this off for weeks, and we need to put something into action sooner or later.”Oliver nods. “Katie is right.”

  “Fine,” Dylan says. “We’ll tell him tomorrow, then.”

  I swallow. “What if he doesn’t believe us?”

  “He will,” Dylan says.

  “But how do you know? I mean, you said Alec is a convincing guy, and—”Dylan and Oliver exchange a look.

  “She’s not wrong,” William pipes up.

  “She’s not,” Oliver agrees.

  “What’s worse, what if he doesn’t believe you and tells Alec about it?” Ethan asks.

  “That would be a nightmare,” George says.

  “We can’t win,” Dylan says, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation. “Whatever we do, we can’t fucking win!”“We can’t think like that,” Ethan says.

 

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