He Looked Back

by Hollandaise, Melissa

  “Yes, you,” she says, smiling. “I mean, he’s so stubborn, no doubt if you weren’t here he wouldn’t have let me stay the other night. And he looks to you a lot of the time for your views on things, I’ve noticed that. I never thought I’d see the day when hard-headed Dylan fell in love.”She laughs lightly.

  I flush. “Neither did I.”

  Leah smiles. “You’re really good for him, I think, and he’s very lucky to have you.”I smile back at her. “I would hug you again, but I don’t want to contaminate you.”She chuckles. “Much obliged.”

  At around two, my fever gets worse, and Leah wets a cool washcloth for me to press to my forehead. I thank her and shut my eyes, focusing on the coldness of the cloth instead of my flaming fever.

  I fall asleep shortly after, and my ringing phone awakes me. I don’t open my eyes, deciding it’s too much energy to reach for the phone.

  A second later I hear Leah answer it for me.

  “Dylan, she’s asleep,” she says in a hushed whisper. “No, it got worse...one oh three degrees...I gave her two pills a few hours ago...I will when she wakes...no, I won’t wake her, she needs sleep...alright, I’ll tell her...bye, Dylan.”I hear her set the phone back on the nightstand and shuffle out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

  I sleep for three more hours until I hear the door open again.

  “How can she still be sleeping? It’s been almost four hours,” Dylan says. I keep my eyes shut.

  “I don’t know, sickness is tiring,” Leah replies.

  “What if she has something serious?”

  “She’s not showing any serious signs, Dylan. Quit worrying so much.”“I can’t, this is stressing me out.” I feel cool fingers touch my forehead and am hit with a wave of spearmint aroma.

  “Shit, she’s boiling,” Dylan says, his cold fingers still on my blazing skin.

  “I’ll go start preparing dinner,” Leah says.

  “Alright, there should be chicken in the fridge.”

  “You’re going to stay here?”

  “Yeah, just to make sure she’s okay.”

  There’s a short pause.

  “She’s lucky to have you, Dylan.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Yes. And I think you’re really lucky to have her, too.”

  Dylan’s fingers stroke softly across my hot skin, soothing me. “I agree.”I hear Leah exit the room, her footsteps echoing through the place.

  Dylan stays with me for quite awhile, his fingers moving gently back and forth across my skin. He begins humming softly, his deep voice sounding so beautiful against the previous silence.

  At around six, I finally muster the strength to open my eyes.

  Dylan sits on the bed beside me, his worried eyes trained on me. He hasn’t changed from his work clothes, and his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows.

  I manage to smile at him and he smiles back, almost relieved to see I’m awake.

  “God damn it, Katie, you never cease to worry the hell out of me.”I laugh and sit up slowly.

  “Are you feeling any better?” He asks anxiously.

  “A little,” I say.

  “Good, it’s better than nothing. Leah’s making food.”

  “Have you talked to her?” I ask, although I am already aware of the answer.

  “Not about what you’d like me to,” he replies.

  I purse my lips.

  “Forget about that, now. Is there anything I can get you? Are you thirsty? Do you need more medicine?”“I’m fine, Dylan.” I smile weakly.

  He sighs and pulls me into a hug.

  “I might get you sick,” I warn against his chest.

  “I don’t care.”

  I pull away anyway, sniffling slightly.

  Leah finishes cooking and we all congregate on Dylan’s bed to eat and watch television. Leah expresses her love for the Big Bang Theory, and I immediately exclaim that I too am a fan. Dylan says he’s never seen it and Leah flips the channel before he even finishes his sentence.

  “Wait, so the tall guy has a photographic memory?” Dylan asks halfway through the program.

  “Eidetic memory,” Leah and I correct him in unison and he rolls his eyes as Leah and I laugh.

  Dylan makes us turn the lights off at ten, telling Leah she can stay another night. She thanks him and he even lets her hug him before she exits the bedroom, shutting the door softly.

  “Before you can even say anything, no, you are not going back to your apartment tonight,” Dylan says, unknotting his tie.

  “But—”

  “You’re sick, and you’re staying with me.”

  I sigh in defeat, too tired and ill to argue with him.

  He changes into pajamas and makes me take two more ibuprofens before joining me in bed, turning out the light and cuddling me close.

  “I feel so lazy, I haven’t left this bed in twenty four hours,” I groan.

  “Not even to piss? There’d better not be dried urine in my bed, Katherine, so help me—”“Relax, there’s no dried piss in your bed. Of course I got up to go to the bathroom, I’m not a dog.”Dylan chuckles. “Even when you’re sick, you still sass me.”“The sass never dies, Dylan.”

  We laugh and I fall asleep shortly, my slumber thankfully dreamless.

  I jolt awake, sweat soaking me. I’m shivering and burning hot at the same time, my heart racing.

  “Dylan,” I say, nudging him awake. “Dylan, something’s wrong.”He’s awake instantly, sitting up. “What is it?”

  “I’m really cold but really hot,” I say shakily.

  He presses a cool hand to my forehead. “Christ, you’re burning.” He gets out of bed and walks to the bathroom, turning on the water and rewetting my cloth.

  I hear Leah stir and Dylan explains the situation.

  They both come into the room, Dylan pressing the cold cloth to my neck, Leah looking down at me with concern.

  I shut my eyes, fatigued, shivering, and blazing hot all at once.

  “Should we take her to the ER?” Dylan asks worriedly.

  “I don’t know, I think her fever may be breaking.”

  “It looks worse to me.”

  “It has to get worse before it gets better.”

  “Shit, Leah, I’m worried.”

  “She’ll be okay. Look, her shivering is dying down already.”Leah’s right, I’m feeling less cold and I’m sweating less. My breathing is evening out as well.

  Dylan breathes deeply. “Good.”

  “Just go back to sleep, she’ll be alright, Hazza.”

  It’s the first time I hear Leah use a nickname for her brother, and it melts my heart.

  “Thanks, Gem.”

  If I weren’t sick, no doubt I would be smiling foolishly at their brief exchange.

  I feel Dylan get back into bed next to me, pulling me toward him. He pushes my damp hair from my face and ties an elastic around it behind my neck. I want to open my eyes and thank him, but by the time he whispers he loves me and kisses my forehead, I’m already half asleep.

  In the morning I feel considerably better. My throat is still slightly sore, but I’m not flaming with fever. The bed is empty when I open my eyes, and I reach out to feel for Dylan, but he’s not there.

  I hear his voice from the living room.

  “How did you even find me, Leah?”

  “It took me a while, but I managed to get your number from our neighbors.”“Why the hell did the neighbors have my number?”

  “You gave it to them in case there was an emergency with...with Dad.”Pause.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Still, you shouldn’t have come when I specifically told you not to.”“What, you were just planning on keeping me out of your life forever?”“Ideally, yes.”

  “How could you? We’re all each other has left, Dylan.”

  “I have Katie.”

  My heartbeat picks up.

  “Yes, that’s true, you do. And if it weren’t for Kat
ie you probably would have kicked me out two nights ago because you have yet to develop a decent bone in your body.”“You’re one to talk, Leah!” Dylan’s voice is rising rapidly.

  “Don’t you think what I did haunts me, Dylan? I regret it every single day.”“Then you shouldn’t have done it.”

  “We can’t go back in time.”

  A pause.

  “How could you, Leah,” Dylan says, is voice softer. “She was my mother too.”“I’m sorry,” Leah says so quietly I have to strain to hear it. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”They both fall silent again.

  I hear footsteps and the door to Dylan’s room opens, and he steps through.

  “Hey,” he says, and I can tell he’s stressed. His hair is slightly unruly, no doubt from his fingers running through it again and again, and his eyes are tired.

  “Hi.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better.”

  He hands me the thermometer from the nightstand, sitting beside me on the bed.

  It beeps shortly and Dylan pulls it from my mouth, reading it.

  “Alright, you’re back to normal body temperature,” he says. “It must have been a ten hour thing.”I nod.

  He sighs. “You heard all that, didn’t you?”

  I know he’s referring to his fight with Leah and I nod.

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize,” I say. “She hurt you, you don’t have to be sorry for that.”He swallows, his Adam’s apple moving up and down slowly. “I thought you wanted me to forgive her.”“I do,” I reply. “But it’s obviously going to take some time.”He exhales slowly. I scoot closer to him and wrap my arms around him, pulling his head so it’s resting on my chest.

  “What time is it?” I ask.

  “Seven forty.”

  “We’re going to be late!”

  I’m instantly out of bed, grabbing the key to my apartment.

  “Be ready by eight fifteen!” He calls after me as I nod good morning to Leah, racing through his apartment and into mine.

  I suck on a cough drop for my throat as I shower and change, curling my hair slightly and grabbing my coat. I lock my door behind me and call the elevator.

  “I’ll be home by six,” Dylan says to Leah before shutting the door.

  I smile at him as he joins me by the elevator, his shirt light blue today.

  “No tie?” I ask.

  “Didn’t feel like tying it,” he says, shrugging.

  “Shame,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Why, you like it when I wear a tie?”

  I shrug, blushing.

  Dylan smirks. “You’re a funny one, Katie.”

  “Thanks,” I say sarcastically as we step into the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby.

  Dylan’s eyes trace over the array of buttons and I reach out and grab his wrist before he can press any more.

  “Not today,” I say sternly.

  He laughs. “How did you know—”

  “I just knew,” I say, removing my hand from his wrist.

  We step out of the elevator in the lobby and walk out to the parking lot, the chilly morning air instantly engulfing us.

  “I can drive you, if you want,” Dylan says.

  “Or, I can drive you,” I counter.

  Dylan raises an eyebrow.

  I cross my arms over my chest.

  “Fine,” he caves, following me to my car.

  I smirk triumphantly and unlock it, getting into the driver’s seat. Dylan gets in next to me.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been in your car,” he says as I put the key in the ignition.

  “It’s a lot nicer than yours, I know.” I back out of my space, pulling out of the lot.

  “Is not. Mine’s an Infiniti.”

  “Mine’s an Audi.”

  “Yeah, yours is silver.”

  “So? Silver is the new black.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me.”

  Dylan rolls his eyes playfully as we drive. I’m careful to watch out for icy streets and unruly drivers as morning rush hour commences.

  “So we’re going to this party on Saturday, hmm?” Dylan speaks.

  I nod, chewing on my lip. “Yep.”

  Dylan nods as well, looking out the window, exhaling deeply.

  “What on Earth am I going to wear,” I sigh and Dylan looks back at me, half smiling.

  “Clothes, perhaps.”

  “Damn it, I was planning on going nude.”

  “I surely wouldn’t mind.”

  I roll my eyes at him, stopping at a red light.

  “What do you think Alec is planning?” I ask, my tone more serious.

  “I haven’t a clue, and it scares the shit out of me,” Dylan says, shaking his head.

  “You don’t think...my dream...”

  “Let’s talk about something else.”

  I’m more than willing to change the subject as I park in front of Crane.

  I lock my car as Dylan and I walk in. He reaches for my hand, his fingers slipping through mine softly.

  “Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” I observe as we wait for the elevator.

  He looks at our intertwined hands. “Yeah, you do have pixie hands.”“Pixie hands?”

  “Never heard of a pixie? Do you live under a rock?”

  I laugh as we step into the elevator. “I know what a pixie is, Dylan.”“Good, I was beginning to worry.”

  We part ways once we reach our desks, Dylan plopping into his seat, already seeming bored for the day.

  I open my desk drawer and pick out one of the pens Dylan bought me, clicking it open and reaching for my unedited manuscript.

  Dylan, as usual, doesn’t work.

  He does, however, draw a detailed sketch of “hellfire” and passes multiple notes to me. For example:Help, I’m running out of gum.