Chapter 10
ten
Dylan
Of course Patrick picks today to spill cereal all over himself. It shouldn’t have been a big deal—just a quick shower and change of clothes. Except that he’d forgotten about his algebra homework and was desperately trying to scribble down the solutions while he ate.
Clothes might be easy to change. Math homework—not so much. Especially when his teacher already has it out for him.
By the time he’d gotten cleaned up and I’d helped him salvage as much of his homework as I could, he’d missed his usual bus, so I had to walk him to school. Hence why I’m now twenty minutes late for a history test I definitely didn’t study hard enough for last night.
For an instant, the sheer chaos of my life threatens to overwhelm me, and I fight the urge to curl into a ball. But that wouldn’t help anyone. My family’s counting on me to keep it together. And if it seems unfair, well…life’s not fair. I learned that harsh lesson the day Dad left us high and dry.
Banton High is eerily silent with classes already in session. Thankfully, no one harasses me in the hall as I quietly slip inside my history class, praying somehow Mr. Redburn won’t notice. Of course, that proves a feeble wish.
“Good of you to join us, Dylan,” Mr. Redburn says, his bushy eyebrows twitching. He’s not the sort to get mad, but I sense the disappointment emanating from him in waves.
I slouch to my empty seat, ducking my head in embarrassment. “Sorry,” I say as I slump onto the cold plastic. “Family emergency.”
I glance up to see his face soften. Internally, I cringe. The whole stupid town knows about what happened with Dad, and the last thing I want is to feel like a charity case.
“But I know that’s no excuse,” I hasten to add.
He grabs a test paper from his desk and walks over, sliding it in front of me. “Perhaps not. Just do the best you can in the time remaining, and we’ll see where you stand.”
I nod, ignoring the sideways glances from Cat and the rest of my classmates. All in all, I think I do pretty well considering I’ve got half the allotted time and am running on fumes. I’ll have to ask Cat about the right answers later. If I’m lucky, I might squeak by with a C.
As I add my paper to the stack at the front, I make a mental note to talk to Mr. Redburn about extra credit to keep my grade up. I have no idea where I’ll find the time, but if I’m going to get into a good school…
I swallow an immediate burst of bitterness as I remember that college applications might not matter anymore.
While I still haven’t broached the subject with Mom yet, putting off university for a couple years still seems like the most responsible course.
Why waste time on things like homework or my vet internship when my family needs me?
I make it through my next few classes relatively unscathed.
There’s a presentation coming up in American Lit that Alexis and I will need to prep for this weekend, and I’m pretty sure my team in PE was ready to slug me after I zoned out and nearly cost us a game.
But at last, lunch arrives, granting me a blessed reprieve to breathe.
I should probably take the hour to get a head start on tonight’s homework, but just thinking about doing more work right now makes my eyes droop.
So instead, I start my usual route toward Mr. Simon’s room to meet up with my friends.
I’m so out of it that it takes me a few beats to realize someone’s calling my name.
“Dylan! Hey, wait up!”
I turn, stumbling to a shocked halt when I realize it’s Ash.
I’d tried not to read too much into his surprise invite last Friday.
Maybe he’d just felt obligated to let me see the cat I’d played some small part in rescuing.
But seeing him standing there, wearing his usual scowl as he brushes his dark hair out of his eyes, makes my stomach flutter.
“Ash. What’s up? How’s Onyx?”
Something flickers across his face before he offers a shrug. “Fine. Now that she’s gotten some food in her, she’s turning into a little ball of fur and chaos.”
I chuckle at the mental image. “Make sure you play with her to get some of that energy out.”
“Don’t worry—my aunt spoils her rotten. I caught her slipping Onyx a bowl of milk last night.”
I frown. “You know, that’s actually a common misconception. Most cats are lactose intolerant. Giving her milk is a good way to upset her stomach.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replies dryly.
There’s an awkward pause, and I glance around, realizing we’re alone in the corridor. My pulse quickens, especially when I look over to find Ash studying me intently.
“What is it?” I ask. I shuffle my feet, my shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor.
He clenches and unclenches his jaw, seeming to debate something. At last, he huffs out a long sigh. “I wanted to, um, apologize.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Apologize? For what?”
It’s his turn to shuffle awkwardly. “For, well, you know.”
I can’t hold back a laugh. “No, I don’t. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be asking.”
He lets out a frustrated growl, swiping a hand angrily through his bangs. “For getting all weird on Friday and making such a big deal out of my aunt’s stupid tarot cards.”
Wow. Ash apologizing was not something I thought I’d see anytime soon—maybe ever. Not with how closed off he always seems or how determined he is to push everyone away.
Now that it’s clear what this is about, my pulse returns to something resembling normal. I fix him with a smirk. “That’s big of you to admit that you were wrong about tarot cards.”
His scowl returns in an instant. “That’s not what I said!”
I shrug. “That’s what it sounded like to me. You just acknowledged how unfair you were being to that noble art of divination.”
He narrows his eyes. “Well, let me set the record straight, then. I. Loathe. Tarot. There, is that unambiguous enough for you?”
I reach out and pat his arm in mock consolation. “There, there. It’s okay. No reason to get so defensive. Your secret is safe with me.”
His firm bicep shifts under my fingers, and I quickly yank my hand away, my skin tingling. God, I hope he didn’t notice that.
If he did, he doesn’t call me on it. Instead, he rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “Whatever.” His gaze darts past me down the hall, and he hesitates. “Well, I said what I had to say. Guess I’ll let you get back to your lunch.”
He starts to move past me, adjusting his backpack straps, and I’m suddenly gripped by the frantic impulse not to let him out of my sight. “Wait!”
He pauses, glancing back at me with a curious look. His face remains the same hardened mask he usually wears around school, though I think I see some cracks around its edges. I get the impression he doesn’t want to go any more than I want him to leave.
Probably wishful thinking.
Wishful thinking or not, however, I find the courage to press on. “For the record, apology accepted.” I raise a finger. “Though I expect more kitty visitation hours in compensation.”
This time, I’m certain I see Ash fight down a small grin. “Deal. This Friday good for you again?”
I nod.
“Cool.” His eyes flick from side to side as he adjusts his backpack, but he makes no further move to leave.
Maybe I’m more out of it from my hectic morning than I realize because I blurt out, “I was just heading to meet my friends for lunch. The offer’s still open if you want to join.”
Not that I have any idea how they’d react. Alexis would likely be nice enough, and Robbie would be his usual odd self. But I’ve got a feeling Cat might scare him away for good.
My stomach sinks when he shakes his head. “Sorry. Not really my scene.”
Interpretation—I hate other people. It had been a long shot, but at least I’d tried. I turn toward the science corridor. “All right. Well, I guess I’ll see you—”
“There’s this great spot I found at a picnic table outside,” he says quickly, his voice almost frantic. “Good light this time of day. I was thinking about going out there to do some sketching. If you want…I mean…you could…”
He swallows, and my eyes lock on the way his Adam’s apple bobs. I clear my throat. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. If you don’t mind the company.”
The corner of his lip twists up. “So long as you don’t mention tarot cards, I’ll manage.”
I feel as if I’m dreaming as I follow Ash outside, trekking through the field to a rickety picnic table sitting near a massive oak.
The table itself looks like a splinter breeding ground and seems one good gust of wind away from collapse, but Ash is right about the spot.
With the sun dappling the leaves and a faint breeze rustling the grass, it’s strangely peaceful—a little oasis in the sea of chaos that is high school.
I’m not sure what to expect when we get there. Ash had mentioned sketching. Does he want me to sit quietly while he draws?
Instead of immediately taking out a sketchbook, however, Ash removes a packed lunch from his backpack, eyeing it mistrustfully as if he expects it to blow up the instant he takes a bite.
“You act like you’ve never seen a packed lunch before,” I say.
He hesitates a beat, then shrugs and opens the bag, rummaging inside. “I hadn’t until I moved here. But I complained about the cafeteria food, and now my aunt insists on doing it every day for me.”
I frown while I unwrap my own usual lunch—PB&J with an apple. Tasty yet affordable. “Your parents never did that for you?”
Instant regret fills me as Ash’s expression slams shut. He might not have told me much about his past, but from what little I’ve gleaned, I probably should have known better. If things were good, he wouldn’t have moved here his senior year to live with his aunt.
“Sorry. Stupid question. Forget I asked.”
I take a big bite of my sandwich before I can say anything else idiotic.
Ash’s shoulders remain tensed. “It’s fine.” His brittle voice suggests this is about the last thing in the world he wants to talk about. “Both my parents died years ago. I’ve been living with my grandparents since I was thirteen.”