Dylan(5)

The brunette’s gone. He’s alone, staring down at his hands that are clasped in front of him. He looks tired and sad, and my heart goes out to him.

But Audrey’s words echo in my head. Who am I doing this for? What do I hope? Why am I doing this to myself every time?

Closing my eyes briefly, I suck in a deep breath, stand up and turn to go.

***

Halo is the gang’s new favorite hang-out. Christmas lights flicker on the walls of the bar. They’re draped over tables and mirrors, festooned over the long bar. Little cherubs hang over our heads, blowing trumpets and playing lyres.

The décor has always bothered me, no idea why. Maybe it’s the connection to Christmas time. All that fake cheer. All those presents I don’t want, the dinners I’m forced to attend, and the smiles I’m obliged to paste on.

I think again of my sis, Mary, who’s now living in Chicago and sometimes calls me, sounding all excited and happy about her new life.

But maybe Dad will take a step back, after all. Maybe he’ll let me study what I want and forget about finding me a husband to marry, say, “If that’s what makes you happy, Tessa. I’m proud of you.”

I’ve waited for those words for so long. For any sign of my father’s love. A real smile directed toward me. A hug. A word of praise.

Jeez. What a pity party.

“What do you think, Tessa?” Zane asks, and I blink, returning to my surroundings.

“What about?”

“Where’s your mind wandering, girl?” Zane’s wrapped around Dakota like a human parka, his chin resting on top of her wild dark hair. He’s been like that ever since he came out of the hospital and announced Dakota is his girl. She seems very happy to be his girl, too.

It’s so cute. So sweet it hurts.

“We’re talking about Dylan,” Erin says, from her place between Tyler’s legs. His arms are around her waist. “How did he seem to you the other day? Audrey said you ran into him at the cafeteria on campus. She also says you’re in a class with him.”

I turn to look at Audrey, trying to gauge her mood—but she’s in Asher’s arms, and he’s whispering something in her ear that’s making her giggle.

All this love… I lower my gaze. It’s not that it’s making me jealous. Not really, although I’d be lying if I said I don’t miss going out alone with the girls. Now they’re spending more time with their boyfriends, and that’s great. I’m just… a bit lonely. I wish I had what they have, too.

Crap, they’re all still waiting for me to speak.

“He’s in my biology class,” I manage. “But he’s only made it once so far. And in the cafeteria… Audrey can tell you. He seemed tired. He almost dropped his tray.”

And then a busty, pretty brunette stepped in to help and entertain him. Not me. Never me.

I just want to smash those pretty cherubs hanging over the bar right now. Break them to pieces. Break myself. End this never-ending doubt and misery.

“I bet it’s his dad’s doing,” Zane says, dark eyes scanning the crowd inside the bar. He’s looking for Rafe, who hasn’t arrived yet. “Not a year ago, that fucker left the care of his kids on Dylan’s shoulders and took off, and whenever he’s back he expects to be coddled, fed and cleaned, as well.”

“Dylan’s dad is depressed,” Ash says, over Audrey’s shoulder. “Depression is a sickness. He can’t help it. He needs help himself.”

I knew Dylan’s dad struggled with depression. I thought he was better. Not that Dylan ever talked to me about it.

Goes to show how little I know Dylan anymore.

There was a time I knew everything about him—back when we were fourteen, when he held me in his arms in the evenings and whispered all his thoughts in my ear, about the past, the present and the future. When he clutched my hand as we crossed the street and then as we sat together, our sides touching, our heartbeats synchronized, our lives joined.

After that, after he broke up with me, we were friends, meeting in parties and going out for drinks with the guys, talking on the phone. But recently… Recently we haven’t even had that. Not for the past year. When his Dad left, Dylan grew distant and cold. Distracted. Angry. Lost.

Too many losses.

“Teo, his little brother has been sick on and off,” Zane says. “Could be the stress from their dad moving out, though it’s been a while since the bastard left. Must be a year now.”

Tyler whistles, his dark brows drawing together. “His brother’s what, five?”

“Six,” Ash says.

“Goddammit. Poor kid.”

Tyler feels strongly when it comes to little kids. His own son is four, and Tyler’s fiercely protective of him, and Erin.