18. Dylan
Chapter eighteen
Dylan
“Ican’t believe you got us these tickets, dude,” Emi says, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet while we wait for the headliner to begin their set.
“I told you he has connections,” Dee says with a wink. She leans over, brushing my shoulder with her arm, her words meant for me. “I didn’t realize they were on the schedule until you told me last week.”
“They were a last-minute addition,” I say, checking my watch.
“That’s pretty last minute,” Dee says, accusation in tone. Her stare is heavy even though I refuse to meet it until she grabs my chin, forcing me to face her. “Dylan, why were they added to the schedule with such little notice?”
I bite my lips and she watches the movement before arching a brow at me.
“Holy shit. You did this?” she asks.
“I made a call. I got lucky.”
Her eyes soften as her lips part. Her fingers slip from my chin as she shakes her head slowly.
“Dylan, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Thanks aren’t needed. You and Emi spent her entire visit listening to their music. It was easy to put the pieces together.”
We’re in the pit. Our shows usually attract the rowdiest crowd, and several of our security guards have to monitor the area closely, but this is a teenage artist with a mostly preteen audience. How rowdy can it get?
I’m immediately humbled by my own stupidity when the curtain separates and the roar of a billion nine-year-olds shakes the foundation of the Bridge.
Dee and I are shoved together by the shifting throng of bodies as they rush the gates at the front of the pit, all trying to get closer to the stage.
Dee wraps her arms around Emi’s shoulders and pulls her close as we work our way toward the back of the swarm.
“I think we’re better off back here where there’s a bit more breathing room, don’t you think, Emi?” Dee shouts.
“Yeah, I need room for all my moves,” Emi yells back as she starts rolling her shoulders. Then she’s swinging her arms side to side, all loosey goosey until they’re slapping her belly and back.
“That’s right, we stretch before we fuck up—I mean tear up—the dance floor.
Just like at my place.” Dee nods at her then leans into her own side lunge, arm stretched out overhead before she gives me a solid five seconds of high knees, then nearly keels over at the waist. “Okay, Emi. Enough with the warm-up. Let’s do this. ”
“Dylan, you didn’t stretch. We don’t need you pulling your old man muscles here,” Emi says with a seriousness I wasn’t prepared for.
I bury my laugh at the thought of Dee and Emi having dance parties in her apartment. “I would need to stretch if I were going to dance. My moves are far too embarrassing to show off today.”
“Aunt Dee Dee says embarrassment is something someone made up to make other people feel bad for being human.”
I catch Dee looking fondly at her niece before she squeezes her shoulders. “That’s right. What do you say, Dylan? Feel like letting loose? Being a little more human today?”
“I’m afraid Robot Dylan is here. Human Dylan can’t come to the phone.”
“Eh, that’s all right, Ems. More room for us on the dance floor.
” And with a devious twinkle in her eye, Dee grabs Emi’s hand and pushes her shoulder gently, spinning her until they both break into what can only be described as a shimmying, shaking, jumping, spinning, vortex of chaos. Yep, they’re definitely related.
But their unbridled joy must be contagious because I can’t take my eyes off Dee’s face. Her smile, her laughter breaking out over the music, and her enthusiasm for life itself. I tap my toe to the beat, finding the rhythm alongside them.
***
“Okay, surely you have to go to the bathroom by now,” Dee wheezes, exasperated.
“No, I don’t, and I can’t leave yet. They haven’t played my favorite song and I’ll die if I miss it. I’ll pass away right here and you’ll have to explain to my mom why you did that to me,” Emi yells back.
Gee. Wonder where Emi gets it.
“Well, I can’t wait any longer, so we need to go now,” Dee says, eyeing the line at the bathroom across the venue.
“Can’t Dylan watch me while you go? We’ll stay right here,” she pleads, hugging Dee tightly around the waist.
Dee looks at me skeptically and I nod. “We’ll be fine.” She eyes me, unconvinced. “We’ll wait right here until you get back.”
“You sure? Because if anything bad happens to my niece in the five minutes I’m gone, not only do you have to deal with me, but you’ll have to deal with my cousin and her husband. And if you think I’m scary, you just wait.”
“This may shock you, but I’m actually a pretty responsible guy. We’ll be fine.”
She considers me for another moment before turning to Emi. “I’ll be right back. Listen to everything Dylan says, do not get separated, and do not move from this spot. Understood?”
Emi beams, having gotten her way. She salutes Dee, who nods and turns, making her way toward the restrooms.
Emi stands to my right, and as the song winds down, she starts jumping up and down again, eagerly awaiting her favorite song.
The lead singer talks to the crowd a bit, but I’m not really paying attention as I watch Dee, making sure she gets to the other side of the hall without any issue.
My heart stops when the band starts up for the next song, and Emi—along with hundreds of other young kids—all start screaming at the top of their lungs.
“Oh my god! It’s happening! I’m so happy, I’m going to cry!” Emi is on the verge of tears. She shakes her head, smiles—something dangerously close to one of Dee’s grins—then she begins dancing.
I barely step back in time to avoid a kick to the shin as she flings herself around with unrestrained delight and enthusiasm.
I recognize the moves she’s emulating as the ones she and Dee danced together earlier, and a thread of affection for Dee pulls taut at my heart.
I’ve never considered having kids of my own, but watching Dee support her niece has me envisioning what it’d be like to someday be a parent myself.
Since I’ve moved in with Dee, a million seemingly small moments continue to add up, forcing me to see her in a new light.
And she fucking shines at every turn. I rub at the ache growing in my chest.
Suddenly, Emi falters in her dance as she eyes a group of girls her age that I don’t recognize. As if she were struck, Emi stops dancing, returning to my side to watch the band perform. No more dancing. She’s not even singing.
All at once, the life drained out of her, and now she’s as still as a statue.
“Hey, uh, Emi? What happened there? Don’t you want to dance?”
“No.”
Fuck. What the hell is going on?
“I thought this was your favorite song.”
“It is, but I’m tired.”
I’d be exhausted as fuck after dancing the way she and Dee have been all night, but I seriously doubt that’s what’s happening right now.
“Can we just go?” she asks. “Let’s find Aunt Dee and go home. I’m done.”
The girls start pointing at Emi and me from across the crowd. One girl sneers and laughs.
What. The. Fucking. Fuck.
“Emi, are those girls making you feel uncomfortable?”
She mumbles something too softly for me to hear.
“Say that again for me, would you?” I kneel, unable to hear her soft-spoken words at my height and over the loud music.
“They’re in my class,” she says a little louder, fiddling her hands in front of her and looking anywhere but at the girls from school or me. “They don’t…they don’t like me.”
Fucking rip my heart out. This kid is so sweet, so kind, so funny. Why the hell would these kids tell her they don’t like her?
“Who cares? You have plenty of other friends. You have other friends at school, right?” She nods. Thank fuck. “You have Dee. And you have me.”
“We’re friends?” she asks.
“I’d like to be. But that’s the thing about friends. You have to be honest with them. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m embarrassed because they saw me dancing. They aren’t dancing like me, and I know they’re going to tease me at school on Monday.”
“And if they teased you, you’d feel embarrassed.”
She nods, turning away from the girls and swiping a tear away quickly with the back of her hand.
“Well, someone really smart taught me something about embarrassment today.” I place a hand on her shoulder, and her eyes meet mine. “Apparently, it’s something someone made up to make other people feel bad for being human.”
Her smile makes me feel like I could do anything.
Including this.