13. Dylan
THIRTEEN
DYLAN
NINETEEN YEARS OLD
I know I still technically live with Aunt Nina and Preston, but this past year I’ve spent so little time at their house that I’m frankly surprised Preston hasn’t turned my room into a home gym yet.
When they bring it up and tell me Preston’s brother got a job offer in Barcelona, I don’t really think about it too deeply.
It shouldn’t have any effect on my life.
What a profound miscalculation.
“What’s her name again?” Harriet asks while we’re sitting on the front steps of the house, her with her laptop, pretending to write her college essay, me pretending I’m helping her while I’m actually trying not to doze off in the warm sunshine.
“Freya.”
“Cool name. Did she go to the wedding? Have you met her?”
I shake my head. “She was in the hospital with acute appendicitis and couldn’t come. They’ve never visited either. I don’t think Preston’s that close with his brother.”
“Imagine that.” None of them have ever been huge fans of Preston. She frowns. “Then why’s he sending his daughter to live with Preston?”
I shrug. “Guess she doesn’t want to move to a whole different country?
” Nobody sat me down and explained the finer details of that arrangement.
All I know is that she’s going to live with us for her freshman year in Boston U.
I don’t know anything about her other than that her existence seems to annoy Parker. That’s a plus in my book.
The front door flies open and Adrian jogs down the stairs, freshly showered after work, just as Preston’s car turns into the driveway.
We all make our way next door, drawn by pure curiosity.
I don’t know what to expect, or if I should expect anything at all.
A girl is standing next to the car. She’s short, with long, strawberry-blonde hair falling down her back in a mess of waves. She turns around and aims a smile our way. There’s a smattering of faint freckles on the bridge of her nose and over her cheeks, and her blue eyes are wide and friendly.
“Hi.” Her smile gets even brighter when she looks at me. “I’m Freya. You must be Dylan. I’ve seen photos.” Her voice is filled with enthusiastic friendliness—the kind I didn’t expect from somebody related to Preston.
“Hey,” I say, taken off guard. “Nice to meet you.”
Harriet clears her throat, and I roll my eyes.
“This is Harriet.”
“Hi!” Harriet waves at Freya with the same level of enthusiasm Freya seems to have about this meeting.
“And this is Adrian,” I say.
“Hello, Adrian.” Freya beams.
There’s a beat of silence. Another beat. One more. I glance at Adrian. His mouth is slightly parted. And he’s staring.
When he still says nothing, I elbow him in the side.
“Yeah. Hey. Hi,” he says. His voice gets very, very deep. Deeper than I’ve ever heard him sound in my life. “Adrian,” he says in that same unnaturally deep voice. “I’m Adrian. But you can call me Adrian.”
Harriet stares at his brother. “Are you having a stroke?”
Adrian ignores her.
“Great to meet you.” Freya keeps smiling.
“I’d love to,” Adrian blurts. He flushes bright red. “I mean…” But he doesn’t seem to know what he means.
Harriet moves closer and says out of the corner of her mouth, “Give me your phone. I need to film this.”
I can’t seem to speak, though.
Because of the look.
That look Adrian has in his eyes.
That dumbfounded, dizzy look.
It takes my breath away.
Steals it right out of my chest.
“I live right here,” Adrian says loudly. I think he wants to point to his house, but he seems to get confused about where it is since he’s also trying not to look away from Freya.
“Is this my birthday?” Harriet murmurs. “Because this is so gloriously awkward.”
“That’s cool,” Freya says. She looks like she’s doing her best to fight off laughter.
“So cool,” Harriet agrees with the kind of mesmerized horror of somebody witnessing a trainwreck.
I still can’t seem to breathe properly.
“Coolio,” Adrian says, which makes Harriet let out a choking noise.
“Yes, wonderful,” Preston clips with an expression that makes it clear he doesn’t find any of it wonderful at all. “Come on, Freya. We’ll get you settled in. I’m sure these three will still be loitering here when we’re done. They usually are.”
Freya starts to walk toward the house.
At the front door, she glances at Adrian over her shoulder and gives him a small wave before she disappears inside the house.
“Well, that’s just… Yeah,” Adrian says with the kind of dazed look in his eyes I’ve never seen there before.
My insides are suddenly freezing cold. There’s a wild ache in my chest. A series of loud cracks that no one else seems to hear.
Later that night, I’m lying in the grass in the backyard, staring at the sky above, trying not to think, and mostly trying to convince myself I was imagining everything that happened earlier.
It’s the new moon, and the sky is peppered with stars.
Every few minutes, a falling star flashes across my line of vision.
When footsteps approach, I assume it’s Adrian.
“Took you long enough,” I say.
When there’s no reply, I glance over my head.
“Oh,” I say when I see Freya.
We both watch each other quietly for a moment, sizing each other up. I know I am.
“Sorry,” Freya says just as I say, “Sorry.”
We try again.
“I thought you were?—”
“I didn’t mean to?—”
I smile despite myself. She sends me a tentative smile of her own and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I couldn’t sleep. New place and…” She glances at the sky. “Stargazing?”
“There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight,” I say.
“Yeah?” She licks her lips and stuffs her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “Can I?” She nods at the ground.
There’s a part of me that wants to be petty and say no. What if Adrian comes out? I’ll have to watch the replay of earlier.
I take too long to reply.
Freya looks down at her feet. “Never mind. I should try and get some sleep.”
I’m being an idiot. What am I gonna do here anyway? Block Adrian from ever seeing her? Yeah, I bet, then he’ll suddenly be all “Oh, hey, Dylan. You’re here too. Guess I’ll be into you instead now that I can’t see Freya anywhere.”
“No, no,” I say. “It’s fine. Please. Sit. I’d love the company.”
She sends me a relieved smile.
She sits down, and a moment later, she lies down next to me.
“Thanks,” she says softly.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“No, it is. I… I feel weird being here, you know? In this house. I’m like an intruder.”
“You’re hardly an intruder.”
“I kind of am. It’s just that I’ve been dreaming about college for so long, and I didn’t want to start over in a completely foreign country, and my dad is only staying for nine months as of now, so it’d be a real pain to relocate and then come back, and I’d lose my scholarship, and it’d all be a mess.
I couldn’t make up my mind about going, so by the time I decided to stay, I was already so late that they couldn’t find me a place in the dorms, so here I am. ”
I have no idea what to say to any of that.
I finally end up going with, “Wow.”
She hums. “I run track, and I got a full ride to BU, so going away would mess everything up.”
“Wow,” I say. Again. “There are a bunch of trails around here,” I add, although I have no idea how students with track scholarships train. Probably not in random parks.
But Freya’s smile is firmly back in place. “In that case, you can be my tour guide. If you’re not busy. I didn’t mean you have to.”
“No, it’s cool. I can show you around.”
I want to like her less.
“Do you know anything about stars?” Freya asks.
I shrug. “The basics.” I point at the sky. “That’s Orion.”
Freya squints and then shakes her head. “I have no idea what you’re pointing at.”
“Look, there. Try and find the shape of an hourglass, and there at the center, there’s the Orion’s Belt.”
“Oh!” She turns her head and looks at me. “How do you know that?” She raises her brow with mock suspicious expression. “Astronomy nerd?”
I snort out a laugh and admit, “I have an app on my phone.”
She grins at me in the dark.
Stars fall all around us.
And I make a wish over and over again.
Please don’t take him away from me.
Just… Please.
I borrow Adrian’s car and take Freya out for the day.
I’m an asshole, okay?
I know. Believe me, I know.
Because Adrian is at work.
And I’m the one who carefully selects and proposes the time for this outing.
We stay out for the whole day.
Drive around.
Go swimming.
She’s good.
Talk.
She’s clever.
Laugh.
She’s funny.
I look for flaws. Hold a magnifying glass and inspect every word and gesture.
I so want to hate her.
I really, really don’t.
I sneak out later that evening and go have dinner with the family.
And I don’t invite Freya.
Because I’m an idiot.
What’s the plan here, Dylan?
Try and keep Freya away from next door for the next year?
Yeah, I’m sure that’ll work.
Of course it doesn’t.
Lynn runs into Freya a few days later, and suddenly there’s a welcome-to-the-neighborhood barbecue happening in the evening, and Freya is the guest of honor.
She bakes a cake and is full of nerves and excitement.
And I get my shit together.
I pace the backyard until there are tracks in the grass.
And breathe.
And accept.
That I’m jealous. Stupidly so.
And that I have to get a hold of myself. The quicker the better.
I put on a smile and walk next door with Freya and the cake.
“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart,” Lynn says when Freya hands her the bakery box.
The barbecue is the usual loud, laughter-filled affair, one I’ve somehow grown to take for granted over the years and have a newfound appreciation for ever since Eric was released from the hospital.
He’s been ramping up his physical therapy appointments lately, with the goal of ditching the wheelchair for good by Christmas. The left side of his body took the most damage, so he’s been having most trouble with his left leg and getting it strong enough to carry his weight.