Dizzy (13 page)

I can smell him. It’s so good. So good. All the parts of the kiss come back to me. The feeling that I’d never get enough. His mouth on mine. His hips (and other things) pressed against me, and his hands across my back.

Just…

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I jump, thankful for the distraction. My eyes catch Dylan’s, and he’s staring again.

He shouldn’t be staring. He’s turning me into a wreck.

ALYSSA: HOW’S IT GOING?

ME: AWKWARD

ALYSSA: U CAN USE ME AS EMER IF U WANT

“I gotta run.” I shove the phone back in my pocket.

“What?” Lora and Dylan ask at almost the same time.

“Alyssa’s got some kind of emergency, and we’re just back on speaking terms. And I…” I’m really trying to look desperate.

“You should go then.” Dylan looks more like himself than he has since before the kiss.

“Fine.” Lora sighs. “I’m crashing at Derrick’s anyway, so you can take the car.”

“See you, Paul.” I give him a wave and wish Alyssa’s fake emergency wasn’t so urgent, because I really want some food.

***

Now that the locations are settled on, Lora and I are at the flower shop putting together the final order. We’ve gone over the paper a million times for how many tables and bridesmaids and groomsmen and the large arrangements and center pieces and and and…

My eyes hurt. I’m about done.

“This is an insane amount of money to spend on flowers. You realize this, right?” The total on the bottom of the page is enough to buy a car.

Lora sighs. “I get that you don’t approve of how extravagant everything is.”

“I don’t get it.” I set my pen down and look at her.

“When he asked me, and I said yes, he said, ‘We’re going to have the biggest, most kickass wedding ever.’ So it’s not just me. Derrick wants a big thing, you know? He keeps saying, ‘We’re only doing this once, baby, let’s make it good.’ And that’s what I’m trying to do. I admit it’s a little thrilling to have such a big budget, but with it comes pressure.”

“I get that.” And for the first time, I do. I get it. And it makes me like Derrick a little more that he’s into this, too.

She sits on the corner. “Okay. What’s going on with you and Dylan?”

I stare at the page. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. And it’s not just you. Dylan was a big pile of mope all weekend.”

I scoff but am a bit pleased. “Well, if he’s moping, it’s his own damn fault.”

“Spill.” Lora kicks off her shoes and slides onto the bed.

I know she’s not going anywhere, so I tell her everything, about how I knew I should’ve stayed away, but I couldn’t help how I felt. I tell her about the kiss and the friend thing, and how I know it’s the smart choice. And that I like him more than I should. I have to blink back tears, probably because it’s all too soon after James.

“You’re not going to school tomorrow. We’re going to do a girl day.” Her smug face is on, and her arms are folded in front of her.

“What about the wedding?” I ask.

“Derrick can take care of it. He just needs to give the invites place a final signature on everything.” She leans back with a smile, knowing she’s going to get her way.

“I don’t do girl days.” I scowl.

“You do now.”

And I know Lora well enough to know it’s final

Seventeen

~ Dylan ~

It’s been more than a week since I kissed Ziah, and I haven’t heard jack from her the whole time. Oh, wait. Unless you count hanging out at her mom’s restaurant where she ignored me and flirted with Paul. Which I don’t care about. Seriously. I don’t.

Why the hell she would want to flirt with Paul anyway is beyond me. I mean, he’s my best friend and all, but he’s not her type. He would drive her crazy, and she’s definitely not the kind of girl he usually goes for. Although she looked damn hot. Was she showing off her shoulder on purpose, knowing I’ve thought about kissing her collarbone more than once?

Okay, so maybe I care a little, but that’s just because it’s not cool. Kiss me, flirt with Paul—even if he was the one doing most of the flirting.

Does she not know how hard it was for me to pull the plug on what we were doing? How much I wanted to touch her everywhere? How kissing her felt different than kissing any other girl, but I put a stop to things because I know it’s not what’s best for her.  Or me.

I’m thinking I deserve a medal or something. I would have rather got run over by Mary than step away, but I did. Because I knew it was the smart thing.

Which means it’s definitely a good thing I stopped. I enjoyed it way too much. I started to like her, and that freaks me out. Not a manly thing to admit, I know, but I can’t imagine being broken the way Dad was. The way he is.

I can’t stop thinking about how bad he lost it, and as cool as Lora is, there’s a part of me who thinks she’ll do the same thing to Derrick. What if he wakes up one day, and she’s gone, leaving him feeling just as abandoned as Dad did—as I do.

No, thank you. I don’t get why people set themselves up to risk that kind of disappointment.

The couch shifts when Paul bounces one cushion away from me.  I’d totally forgot he was coming over. “You know I don’t really like your girl, right? I’m just giving you shit.”

My head whips around so I’m looking at him. “Ziah’s not my girl.”

Paul shakes his head, suddenly all mature and all knowing. “You’ve been weird. You okay?”

The thing is, I’m not okay, but nothing happened either. Actually, that’s a lie. For the first time in my life, I kissed a girl I liked then made myself stop. Now I’m all screwed up about it. You know… just something tiny like that.

Paul’s sitting next to me more serious than he usually is. He’s waiting and quiet, which are two things he’s usually not.

I lean back into the couch. I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but I think I am. I have to talk to someone, and it’s not like I can go to Derrick. He’ll just warn me away from her, which is what I’m supposed to want.

“Have you ever been with a girl, and it was… different than it usually is?”

Paul’s eyebrows rise. “We both know who you’re talking about, man. Why don’t we just say Ziah? And what do you mean, different?”

I ignore his comment about her name.

“I don’t know. Just… different.” As in I like her. This sucks. Like hugely. “And then it ended, and even though I’m the one who put the stop to it, I was mad it was over.”

I can’t even remember if I told him what it was.

“Okay, let me get this straight. You kissed Ziah—because I know you did that night. Freaked out and hit the breaks, but you really didn’t want to. You’re even more freaked out because you like her and don’t know what to do about it? I guess it pissed you off that I flirted with her, too, which I did on purpose, by the way, because I could tell something was up. Now you’re trippin’ out because you realize how much you really like her, and you don’t want to?”

Okay. Talk about different. “Yeah… I guess you can say that.” Because he obviously said it better than I could.

“Alright, D,” Paul stands up. “It’s obvious you’re into her, and that’s not a bad thing, ya know? But before you do anything, you need to make sure you’re serious. The last thing you want to do is hurt that girl. She’s cool, and your brother’s marrying into her family. Personally, I think it’s cool. You should go for it, but I know you trip out because of your mom.”

He’s right. I like her. I like that she’s grumpy half the time, and that she doesn’t take my crap. I like that she’s funny and smart. That she’s freakin’ gorgeous and likes good music. It’s cool that we can talk, that we like the same movies. But that’s friend stuff, right? Except for the gorgeous part. I also like that she’s an amazing kisser. Like the way she nibbled my lip—that’s definitely not friend stuff.

And then, I don’t know why, but it makes me think of Mom. “Remember that one time when my mom brought us to the park for like five hours? She let us play as long as we wanted. Bought us ice cream. Wasn’t all hovering like all the other moms were. We got to do whatever we wanted. She was always cool like that.”

Paul squints at me as though he’s trying to figure me out. How can he not remember this?

“Is that all you remember about that day?” he asks.

Now it’s me who can’t figure him out. “Well, yeah. That’s what happened.”

He stalls a minute before replying. “Yeah… yeah, I remember that day, but—”

“Holy shit. Thank God you guys are here.” Derrick steps into the room. “I just got a phone call, and we’ve got a job to do.”

***

Derrick’s all stressed out on the way to the invitation place, and I’m not sure why. Or maybe he said why, but I didn’t hear it because I can’t stop thinking about my conversation with Paul, trying to remember that day at the park and wondering if there is something missing I don’t remember.

How could there be? It’s not like Paul could know my mom better than I do. I know she was awesome. She was an incredible mom until she was just gone.

“We’re here to pick up the invitations for the Gibson wedding,” Derrick tells the girl behind the counter when we get inside the shop. She’s young—probably in her twenties and she’s eying us all up and down, but I can’t make myself get into it.

“Wonderful… Which of you is the lucky groom?” She starts to walk to a table, and we follow her.

Paul and I quickly point to Derrick as he sits in one of the chairs. “That’s me.”

“My name is Aubra. I was expecting your fiancé. I must say, this is the first time I’ve seen the groom pick out the invitations on his own.”

This catches my attention. Derrick has that deer in the headlights look, so I speak for him. “What do you mean, pick them out? Aren’t we picking them up?”

“No. Lora made the appointment today to have them made up. We’re putting a rush on it since the wedding isn’t too far out. I understand you had some trouble with a venue?”

I fall in the chair next to Derrick. Paul takes the one on the other side, and we sit there probably looking like the biggest idiots in the world. But then I realize it’s just a piece of paper. How hard can it be?

A cup rattles on the desk when Aubra drops a huge book onto it. “Do you know what you’re looking for? We have linen finish, matte finish… Oh! Or silk laminate. There’s recycled and unbleached or bleached. This handmade soft paper is really popular, but my favorite is this new wood grain texture. It’s beautiful and masculine, depending on the theme of the wedding…”

Blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah blah. Is all I hear. No wonder Derrick is freaking. Who knew there were so many different kinds of paper?

“Derrick. Call your girl. She’s going to kick our asses if we get this wrong.” Lora’s scary about this wedding. I can’t believe she would send us to do this.

Derrick’s dialing the phone. He’s on it a few seconds before he hangs up and calls again. He calls three times before he leaves a message, telling her to call because we have no idea what we’re doing.

“Dylan, try Ziah,” he tells me.

Stupid as it sounds, my heart kicks up. I definitely can’t say no to my brother, or he’ll know something’s up. So I call Ziah. Straight to voicemail.

“She’s not answering.”

“What was Lora thinking?” My brother’s eyes are all wide. “Seriously. This is invitations. It’s a big deal.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to give him hell, but I can tell how important this is to him. He wants to get it right and do it for Lora. Gotta respect him for that.

“I’m guessing she’s thinking she trusts you. That you can do this, and that she’ll be happy with whatever you choose.”

Really, I’m thinking we are so fucked here and wondering if Lora took a ride on the crazy train by giving us this responsibility.

“You know Lora. Let’s just try and think about what she likes. There’s that walkthrough thing with the chandelier or whatever. I think it has branches or twigs or something on it.” I have no idea what I’m saying. “So that’s sort of rustic, right?” I look at Aubra. “Is that a theme?”

She’s got a half-smile on her face. “Sounds like it.”

“And the wedding is at Vista house!” Derrick adds. “Which is sort of like a castle with all the bricks and stuff.” He starts fingering through the paper. “What about this?” he asks Aubra. I have no idea what kind of paper it is, but it looks like it fits.

“I think that will be nice. Have you thought about font?”

Font? Holy shit, weddings are a lot of work. I don’t get why all this stuff matters. “Cursive?”

“There’s like ten billion different fonts to choose from, Dylan. Even I know that,” Paul laughs.

I ignore him. We seriously do go through about ten billion different lettering until Derrick finally decides on one. The invitations will be pretty cool. From one side of the paper branches come out across it. They’re raised a little and remind me of some of the stuff I’ve seen Lora looking at.

Luckily he does know what they’re supposed to say, and an hour later, we’re heading out of the place. Now that the catastrophe is over, and I realize my brother’s not going to have a nervous breakdown over a piece of paper, I can give him shit about it.

“I thought you were going to either piss your pants or pass out,” I tease him.

“What was Lora thinking?” Paul says in a mock-girl voice.

“Screw you guys.” He pushes us both, but Paul and I are still cracking up.

“Aww, were you scared you’d get in trouble? Poor Derrick.” I trip as he grabs me and puts me in a headlock. It doesn’t stop my laughing.

After he feels like he’s kicked our asses enough, and we’re all leaning against a wall to catch our breath, he says, “You guys give me shit, but I love her. I want things to be perfect for her. She deserves that, and the cool thing is she’s the same way about me. Tease me if you want, but I’m lucky as hell. I have a girl who would do anything for me, and I would do the same for her.”

None of us are laughing anymore. It’s so crazy to hear my brother now—to see he’s like… grown up? Gotten over all the shit that happened. Everything. Is that because of him or Lora? I don’t know, but for the first time, I’m a little jealous of him. Me and Dad, neither of us are where Derrick is.

“Did you tell her?” My voice is quiet. It doesn’t even bother me that Paul is here. Right now, I just need to know. “Did you tell her about Mom?”

Derrick puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “I did. The second I knew she meant more to me than just fun, I told her. She deserved to know where I came from. Why I still freeze up once in a while or have a hard time sharing things with her or being as close as we should be.”

This makes my head snap up. “You’re not over it?” Then how is he doing this?

“Most of the time, but I don’t know if you ever really get over the stuff that happens to you, D. It’s a part of you, but I know Lora isn’t Mom. I know it’s not fair to hold what Mom did against her.”

But how? That’s what I don’t get. How he does it or how he can have that faith in her. I don’t think Dad ever thought Mom would bail.

And then I think about Ziah, too. She has no idea why I pulled the plug the other day. She’s just had her boyfriend cheat on her… what if she thinks I’m like that too? That I’m rejecting her the way her douche of an ex did.

Regardless of our relationship, I care about her. Does that mean she deserves to know too?

“Dylan, I really need to talk to you about Mom. There’s something you need to know.”

I look up to see Paul’s walked away. He’s standing by the cars.

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

“We need to.”

Right now, I can’t stop thinking about Ziah even though I don’t get why. “Like you said, it’s in the past.”

He squeezes my shoulder again. “Not if you don’t leave it there. Plus… I need to tell you—”

“Later, okay?” I step away from him. “I gotta go. I need to talk to Ziah.”

“Hey!” He yells when I get to Mary. “You came through for me today. Way to man-up.”

I nod at him in reply, and Paul walks over to Derrick, who without my having to say it, will bring him home.

***

I’m nervous as hell when I knock on her door. I clutch a bag in my right hand, still not able to believe I stopped at the store on my way here. It’s as good an excuse as any, though. I’ve seriously driven by her house like fifty times waiting for her to get home from whatever she did with Lora and then for Lora to leave again.