Chapter 4
four
Dylan
“Fuck him,” Cat says. She leans against Robbie, who himself leans against the side of the school. Most of the other students have left by now, leaving the area peaceful. Her grin gains a wicked edge. “In either sense of the word.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Alexis sighs. “Although, I agree that you shouldn’t let his rudeness bother you. Word around school is he’s like that with everyone. I wouldn’t take it personally.”
“Exactly!” Cat says. “Like we already determined, the guy’s a colossal dick. Why waste any brainpower on him? You’re busy enough as it is.”
She has a point. It’s only the first week of school, and I’ve already spent a handful of lunches holed up in the library frantically finishing homework I didn’t have time to complete at home. The last thing I need is to worry about some guy who clearly wants nothing to do with me.
“Yeah, yeah.” I check the time on my phone and adjust my backpack’s straps on my shoulders. “Speaking of, I’ve gotta head out. Today’s my first day at the vet’s. Dr. Jenkins wants my help updating their online event calendar and organizing old patient files.”
“Sounds thrilling,” Cat says. “No wonder you’re so eager to become a vet.”
“They brought me on precisely so that the real vets don’t have to deal with this crap. Besides, it’s—”
“Good experience,” Cat interrupts. “So you keep saying. Well, whatever floats your boat. I intend to spend tonight at Robbie’s busting a move in DDR.”
Robbie has to be the sole kid in Banton with a vintage Dance Dance Revolution game set up in his garage. Alexis and I have gotten pretty decent by proxy, but Cat’s the only one of us who can manage the faster songs with any amount of grace.
Cat turns to Alexis. “You in?”
“Yep!” Alexis replies, brightening. “I’ve gotta practice my piano piece for Sunday, but I’ll stop by after dinner.” She glances at me and bites her lip. “You’re welcome to join us when you’re done, Dylan. It’d be great to have someone else there who won’t trounce me on every song.”
“Can’t,” I sigh. “Tommy’s working and my mom’s got a late night, so I have to prep dinner and keep an eye on Patrick after he gets home from soccer practice.”
“Patrick’s like twelve now,” Cat scoffs. “He’ll be fine on his own for a couple hours.”
“Probably,” I agree. “But I promised Mom I’d check in on him. She doesn’t want him left alone all night if Tommy doesn’t show until late.”
Alexis beams at me. “It’s really noble how much you do for your family.”
Suddenly awkward, I stare at the cracked asphalt. “Thanks.”
“I think what Lex is trying to say,” Cat interjects, “is that you need to cut yourself some slack. You’re allowed to act like an irresponsible teenager once in a while.”
“Hamsters sometimes eat their own young,” Robbie offers helpfully.
Cat snags his hand. “See? Not even hamsters are perfect.”
“I knew there was a reason I didn’t like rodents,” Alexis says with a shudder.
Cat smirks at Alexis before narrowing her eyes at me. “Just live a little, Dylan. The world won’t end if you have some fun.”
Yeah, right. With what time? I force a smile I don’t feel. “I’ll try.”
That seems good enough for Cat, and I hurriedly say my goodbyes before setting off for Dr. Jenkins’ office. I’m tense after that last conversation, so I focus on clearing my head. I don’t want Dr. Jenkins to fire me on my first day.
My traitorous thoughts end up back on Ash, which is hardly a safer subject. There’d been a few moments there where he’d seemed nice enough—snarky, sure, but in a way I’d found mostly endearing. Then, he’d just sort of shut down and shoved me away.
If I was smart, I’d take the obvious hint, follow my friends’ advice, and leave him alone. But I can’t deny there’s a part of me made only more determined to crack through his shell by his reluctance to let anyone in. To figure out what’s wrong so that I can help.
Let it go, Dylan. You’ve got enough problems of your own to solve.
I make it to Dr. Jenkins’ office two minutes early, greet the receptionist, and am ushered into the back. Thankfully, I’m only left to fidget by a counter lined with expensive-looking equipment for a minute or two before Dr. Jenkins appears.
Friendly but efficient, he immediately has me sign some confidentiality forms and puts me to work in a dim storeroom sifting through old patient files and manually entering their data into an ancient computer.
The work probably would’ve been monotonous if I hadn’t been so excited to be there.
Plus, the added perk of perusing pictures of adorable cats and dogs definitely helps.
A rap on the door snaps me out of my groove, and I glance up to find Dr. Jenkins smiling at me from behind his spectacles. “Dylan. Good to see you hard at work. How are those files coming?”
“Great, sir.” I shuffle some papers nervously before setting aside the folder I’d been compiling. My back pops as I take the opportunity to stretch. “I can see why you’ve been putting this off for so long.”
He chuckles. “Guilty as charged.” His eyes rove over the stacks upon stacks of unsorted files arrayed behind me. “Though by the look of things, we’ll be lucky if you finish before you graduate. We might need you to pick up a few extra nights here and there so you can keep up.”
I suppress a wince. I have no idea where I’ll find the time, but I’ll make it work…somehow. “Not a problem. I’d love to help.”
“Glad to hear it. I can’t wait to finally move out of the dark ages and into the digital era.” His expression grows more serious as he studies me. “You said during your interview that you hope to be a veterinarian yourself someday, right?”
“Yes, sir. It’s what I plan to study.”
“Well, if you want, I’d be happy to let you sit in on some of my less serious appointments. It’ll give you a chance to interact with the animals and get some hands-on experience.”
I break out into a wide grin. “That’d be awesome!”
“Great.” He claps his hands. “Well! I’ll leave you to it, then.”
The rest of my shift passes in a happy daze.
I’m still riding the high when I get off at seven and make my way home in the fading light.
While I’m not exactly thrilled for even more file duty, Dr. Jenkins taking me under his wing more than makes up for it.
My dream of becoming a vet feels one step closer.
Of course, my good mood can’t last.
The instant I step inside our tiny home, the blaring whine of the fire alarm assaults my ears. Panic rips through me as I catch a whiff of smoke.
Patrick!
I almost trip over a pile of shoes by the door as I careen down the hall toward the kitchen, my heart racing a mile a minute. Oh God, I never should’ve left Patrick alone. If anything has happened to him…
I burst into the kitchen and stumble to a halt, my frazzled mind trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.
A boiling pot of water sits on the stove, its overflowing contents splashing out of the pot and sizzling across the surface.
Meanwhile, thick black smoke billows out of the open oven door while Patrick, wearing an apron two sizes too big for him, attempts to maneuver a burnt dish off the rack.
“What the actual fuck, Patrick!” I shout.
My little brother startles, almost dropping the dish. Right—yelling at someone handling something hot probably isn’t the best strategy.
Patrick hastily sets down the dish and holds up his hands. “Don’t worry. I wore oven mitts.”
I stare at him, torn between outraged anger and flabbergasted amusement. “Scooch over and give me those,” I finally snap, striding to the oven.
Patrick seems happy enough to comply, his relief palpable as I do my best to salvage his mess.
Not that there’s much left to salvage. Whatever he’d been trying to bake is little more than a blackened char on the bottom of the dish, and it doesn’t look like he ever got around to adding the open package of spaghetti on the counter to the boiling water.
Not that he could have without causing even more of a deluge after how much he’d overfilled the pot.
Once I have the situation relatively in hand—minus all the clean-up I’m going to have to do later—I whirl on Patrick, who at least has the good sense to appear abashed. “What the hell were you thinking, Pat?”
“That it would be nice for you to have a tasty meal waiting for you when you got home,” he replies, sounding hopeful.
I raise an eyebrow and look pointedly at the charred mess. “Tasty, huh?”
He shrugs, trying for a hesitant smile. “I kinda got distracted. But it’s the thought that counts, right?”
Sighing, I scrub a hand over my eyes. “Just promise me you won’t do anything like this again. Mom trusts you to be on your own this year, but if you can’t act responsibly, I’ll have to stay here to babysit you.”
The thought of being stuck here every day after school more than I already am, of giving up my vet internship before it even really begins, makes me want to puke. But protecting my hyperactive brother—even if it’s from himself—comes first.
Patrick sets his jaw. “I was only trying to help.”
He looks so forlorn, I can’t help but give him a weary grin. “I know you were, Pat. And I appreciate the thought—really. But how about you leave the cooking to me for now, okay?”
“Okay,” he says, bowing his head dejectedly.
I ruffle his hair, earning an indignant squawk. “If you want to help, how about we clean this mess up? Then, I can show you how to cook…um…”
I glance uncertainly at the burnt dish, and he grimaces. “It was supposed to be chicken parmesan with spaghetti and marinara.”
Good God, that had once been chicken? How long did he overcook it?
“Right.” I clear my throat, disguising my laugh as a cough when Patrick glares at me. “Chicken parmesan it is.”
True to his word, Patrick throws himself enthusiastically into cleaning up the kitchen, and while he’s not much better at cleaning than he is cooking, at least it’s harder for him to burn the house down while doing it.