I woke up the next day, with new clothes on. I was cleaned up. I felt comfortable but that was only for a second.
“Shit.”, I swore, remembering the later I show up home, the more the beating. I had to get out.
After bouncing on the bed a few times, I rushed to the room’s door, opening it as fast as I could.
I rushed to the sitting room where Dylan sat with his mom. They both turned to look at me, surprised a bit like they forgot I was around.
“Sorry.”, I whispered out of embarrassment, then headed for the door. I wasn’t embarrassed about startling them. The PJ I had on was what’s was embarrassing.
A onesie with kitten faces everywhere. I could remember the day Mr. Arthur got it for me. I was the one that chose it myself. It was so soft. I knew it’d be comfortable.?
Now that I’m in it, yes it feels as comfortable as it looked but then I was sure I looked like a baby.
“Where are you rushing to?”, I heard Dylan ask as soon as my hand touched the door knob.
I paused for a second, turning to look at him. While he hopped down the couch and grabbed my hand. “You shouldn’t leave yet. We need to talk.”
“Avery. Mr. Arthur talked to your dad. They agreed that you would stay here for the weekend. Don’t worry about any trouble when you get home. Arthur took care of it.”, his mom re assured me, calming me down and depressing me at the same time. How much did Mr. Arthur have to pay to convince my dad.
“Uh…”, I trailed, realizing Dylan was holding my hand. That was something I didn’t imagine would happen in a million years.
“Let’s go.”, he said, pulling me.
“To where?”, I frowned a bit, trying to pull my hand out of his grip.
“My room.”, he said, tightening his grip.
“Why?”, I asked, not bothering to struggle anymore and just go with him.?
He didn’t say anything, just lead me upstairs and then to his room.
“Neat.”, was the first word that escaped my mouth as soon as I stepped in. His rooms size didn’t differ from mine but the design and everything was different. It wasn’t too amazing in my opinion the only thing surprising about the room was how neat it was.?
“Yeah… My mom gives me kisses every time she meets it neat so…”, he trailed awkwardly, walking to his bed and sitting, leaving his eyes on me.
? I felt weird talking to him like this… Like normal people would talk to each other. I was so used to his grumpy side that this side of him felt unreal.
“So what’d you want to talk to me about?”, I asked, heading for the wall then leaning on it.?
“You can just sit next to me…”
“Nah, I’m good here.”, I said, sitting on the floor and resting my head on the wall.
“Oh… Aight then, if you say so.”
“So what did you want to tell me?”, I asked again, fully aware that he’d have a hard time talking but I was curious.
“Well…”, he trailed, standing up and walking up to me. “I’ve never said this before…”he trailed, rubbing the back of his neck before sitting next to me and talking, “I’m so sorry.”, he apologized, looking forward instead of at me like he was avoiding my eyes. “I really am so sorry.”, he continued.
“For what exactly?”
“Everything.”, he sighed. “I was never nice to you. I was so rude and all-”
“Why’re you apologizing?”, I frowned a bit, feeling pathetic. “Cause you saw the state I was in yesterday?”, I asked.?
I felt terrible that he saw me in that state. Now instead of hatred he pities me and I don’t need that. It makes me feel more pathetic than I already am.
“N-no. That’s not it. Honestly, it was somehow a trigger but it’s not it. Really.”, he said turning to me now. “I realized I owed you an apology a while ago. When you told me you wanted to die. It made me realize so many things. I knew everything I had been doing to you was wrong but I couldn’t bring myself to apologize or at least stop.”, he explained. “I was just… Jealous… I guess. You did steal my dad you know. He loves you more than he loves me.”
“That’s what you think.”
“Even if he loves both of us equally.”
“He loves you more. You’re his son.”
“You really think being his son is enough to make him love me the most?”, he chuckled, looking back at nothing exactly. “I wish that was it.”, he whispered to himself before speaking up. “I just really hate hate sharing, you know… I just want to be the only one I guess.”, he shrugged. “Do I sound stupid?”, he asked, glancing at me for a second.
“No, not really.” I shrugged, hugging my knees.
“Guess why I told you that.”, he smiled all of a sudden.
“You felt it was necessary?”, I shrugged, giving my guess.
“No.”, he said, “Cause we’re best friends now.”
“Best friends?”
“Don’t you remember? You called me your best friend before loosing consiousness yesterday.”
“Well… Yeah but I wasn’t thinking. C’mon. I was barely alive. I didn’t think you’d take me seriously.”
“Well I did.”
“I don’t think that’s how becoming best friends work.”
“We could make it work that way.”, he shrugged. “Besides, we match.”
“We’re nothing alike.”
“That’s why we’re a match. I have no interest in people who are exactly like me.”
“What do you think a best friend is?”,?
“A best friend’s a best friend.”, he shrugged. “The best friend out of your friends. It’s literally in the name.”
“I thought it was more than that.”
“It could be. Depends on how strong your relationship with you best friend gets. Some get addicted to each other’s presence and end up becoming more than best friends.”?
“I doubt we’re when friends. You know nothing about me.”
“Incorrect. I know your name, age, birthday, favorite color, breakfast, lunch, dinner, most preferred clothing style, favorite movie, favorite book..”
“How’d you know all that?” I frowned, barely believing he actually knew that much about me.
“My dad talks to me about you a lot. That’s how I know the basics. As for your favorite show, color book and food, I noticed. Everytime you come to our library you always go for that boring hidden glasses book. Every time my mom asks what you’d like to eat, you say the same thing depending on the time so it wasn’t hard to catch on.”
“Why would you take note of all that?”
“I was saving all those information for the day I finally stop being jealous and finally try talking to you. I always wanted a talk but it was hard. I had so many reasons to not want to get to know you but then I ended up knowing so much about you without actually interacting that makes me worthy of being called a friend now right?”
I could tell he didn’t know what being or having a friend actually meant. He was as clueless as I was but I wasn’t about to tell him that. I knew he’d find out the meaning himself someday but for now, let’s just lie to ourselves that we can actually call each other friends.
“Right.”
“You have no other friend right?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have any other friend, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Then that makes me your best friend. You have no other choice.”