Temporary Insanity
Chapter Ten: Lyrics Tell All, Actions Say Nothing
"OH. MY. GOD!!"
Christina stumbles into the boys' room, needing to sit and finding her brother's perfect bed across the room from two very nervous Norths. She keeps looking from Dylan to Phoebe, her eyes moving so quickly that her head begins to throb from the dizziness. Dylan's sitting on his bed with a blank stare and Phoebe's leaning against her brother's messy desk, her arms insecurely wrapped around her shoulders.
"Have you two completely lost it?" Christina explodes. "Does your mom know?"
"Of course not," Phoebe quickly answers. With a look of desperation on her pale face, Phoebe runs her fingers through her honey brown locks. Her heart's thumping so rapidly in her chest, Phoebe wouldn't doubt if the other two teens in the room could heart it. "It was a mistake…"
"There you go again," Dylan scowls, throwing his hands up in the air. He stands and walks over to Phoebe who backs away with uncertainty. "You run, Phoebe. You run away from every little thing that you don't want to deal with. Christina knows now. We just gotta suck it up and deal."
"You want me to deal?" Phoebe asks, her voice rising with each word. "I don't know what this is, Dylan. I don't want to feel this way about you. I never wanted it to escalade. I just want it all to go away. Now that three of us know, it's only a matter of time before everyone in the house finds out and eventually everyone in school and everyone in town after that."
"Would that be so bad?" Dylan inquires. Hearing her wish away her feelings for him is like a knife to his heart. He tries his hardest to hide the fact that she hurt him. "You know what…just…whatever. Run if you like. I don't give a damn anymore."
It's silent as Dylan and Phoebe locked eyes. They search each other, trying to read each other's body language and find an answer. All they find is confusion and strangely, concern. Even stranger, Christina's the one to break the silence with her laughter. Dylan and Phoebe turn to the blonde who's laughs turn hysterical, her eyes beginning to tear. Replacing that shocked, jaw dropped expression is a wide grin.
"What's so funny?"
"You so want each other. It's disturbingly funny, like Jerry Springer or something," Christina says, rubbing her eyes. Phoebe and Dylan fail at finding any of this amusing though Christina continues to laugh despite the tension in the hair.
"I'm so glad you're utterly amused," Phoebe says dryly, glancing over at her stepsister. It's much easier than staring at the adopted brother she just jumped and kissed in front of their stepsister. "What are we supposed to do?"
"We're all supposed to shut up and keep this our little secret," Dylan steps up to take charge. No other option seems fit. "Seriously, mom would take it better if I told her I was gay and having unholy thoughts about William. If she found out we were−"
"Breaking each other's falls with your lips," Christina finishes with a sputter, her laughter dying down to giggles. Both Dylan and Phoebe just glare over at the blonde who grins back. "I could imagine the conversation. So awkward…"
"Please, Christina, you have to promise us," Phoebe begs as she continues to ignore Dylan and takes a seat beside the blonde. They hear the sound of loudly chattering children and instantly know the youngsters are already home. This conversation needs to end now.
"Don't worry," Christina assures them once her laughter subsides and the reality of the situation sinks in. "Guys, this is so screwed up, you know that, right? How long has this been going on?"
"It doesn't matter…because it's over."
"It can't be over if there wasn't anything fucking there to start with," Dylan says coldly, evidently angry and hurt. Phoebe says nothing, simply walking out of the room and down the hall. This time, she doesn't even bother to look back. He watched as she walked away again, straight out the door and down the hallway.
"Dylan…"
"I'm taking a nap," he says with no emotion and dives beneath the sheets of his bed.
"That's cool. Being a cheerleader apparently in need of weight training, I've gotta get to the game," Christina says, frowning sympathetically. "This kinda awesome and oddly insightful guy once told me that if the feelings are genuine and real then nothing else matters. Just remember that, okay?"
"It's kinda hard," Dylan laughs bitterly, "but I'll try. Thanks, Christina."
"Anytime." Christina runs a comforting circle against his tense shoulder before she stands and walks out, leaving Dylan to brood in the comforts of his empty room. He groans, tired of lying in his bed and feeling sorry for himself. He needs to get out. He needs a good time.
Dylan rolls over in his bed and reaches for the bedside table, snatching up his cell phone that's been sitting right beside a little black pin with a pink bunny printed on. Despite the nauseas feeling in the pit of his stomach, Dylan searches for one specific number, one he hasn't called in so long, but could never convince himself to delete.
His lips curl into a smirk when he hears the voice cooing on the other side of the phone.
"Hey Cecelia," he breathes though his heart doesn't beat fast in his chest like it should. Still, he goes through with it. "I was just thinking and maybe we should give it another shot. That would be amazing. Sure, I'll see you tonight at Devin's."
He ends the call, not caring if it's a school night. After spending so many straight days trapped in the lighthouse, Dylan's desperate to get out. He quickly changes into some socially acceptable clothes and makes his way down the stairs, trying not to draw any attention to himself. It isn't hard. With seventeen other kids running around the house, Dylan feels like he's somehow been warped into a chapter from Lord of the Flies.
Dylan presses his back to a wall in the hallway when he hears William's faint voice coming from the kitchen. He slyly steals the keys to William's SUV and smoothly disappears out the door. He needs to take William's car. It's automatic and easy. Dylan really can't drive with his stick shift old school Mustang and a broken arm.
"Dylan, where are you going?"
He hears the fragility and innocence in the voice and it shatters him.
"Hey Jo," Dylan greets his little sister who's caught him halfway to William's SUV. He grins at Joni North who returns his stare with suspicion. It makes Dylan smile, seeing the likeliness between Phoebe and Joni, sisters by birth. Phoebe takes after Helen in almost every physical attribute while Joni inherited their father's dark hair. Besides both having dark brown eyes, the one major and obvious trait shared between the two is their paleness.
"Hey D," Joni mimics, still watching him with wariness. "How's your arm?"
"You know I don't lie to you," Dylan says and it makes the young girl grin. "I feel like a truck just run over my arm, reversed over it and ran over it again and again and again and again."
Joni frowns. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about me, kiddo. You aren't the idiot who broke it," he assures her with a light laugh. Dylan sits on the front steps of the lighthouse and Joni hops down to take a seat beside him. "What's up, Jo? You want to talk about something?"
"Just wondering where you were going," she replies innocently. "Which is?"
"Football game," Dylan lies unthinkingly and Joni looks at him, puzzled. Dylan North isn't exactly a sports fan or one to give into high school brainwash and Joni knows him well enough to find all of this doubtful. "You know how I've been having problems with my friends and I'm sick and tired of all this drama. So despite how much I hate school functions, I'm going to go watch Hunter play."
"Aren't you still grounded?" Joni questions and Dylan grits his teeth. "Frank is going to kill you if he finds out that you're sneaking out!"
"Frank isn't going to find out," Dylan corrects and nudges his little sister with his shoulder. "Come on, Joni, just like old times. If anyone can organize and execute plan keep-mom-and-the-Admiral-clueless-while-your-favorite-brother-leaves-the-house-for-the-first-time-in-four-months it's you, little J."
Joni can't help, but smile, flattered. "Well, I am kinda awesome, aren't I?"
"The awesomest," he says and it makes him smile to know he isn't lying to her for once in the course of this conversation. After dramatically sighing, Joni gives him the nod and the loyalty leaves Dylan impressed. "Thanks, kid. I've been going crazy locked up in the lighthouse."
"I've got you covered," Joni assures him. "Go have fun, Dylan."
"You are the best," he worships her, throwing his arm around the ten-year-old and pulling her close for a warm hug. "Don't worry. I'll be home before you know it."
Dylan playfully ruffles her dark tresses and the young girl laughs aloud at her brother's goofy side that he seldom shows to outsiders. They exchange a quick last goodbye and Dylan sneaks off to William's SUV while Joni goes back inside, making sure that no one is close enough to the porch to see. He sits behind the wheel and waits for the signal − something they've done so many times in the past.
The moment comes just perfect. At the shrill sound of the saxophone, Dylan takes his cue and starts the engine, knowing that everyone in the house will be horrified at the sound of Joni playing, distracting them to the point where a car engine won't even register with their bleeding ears.
Dylan doesn't like lying to his family − specifically Joni who's sweet and young and hangs on every one of his words. He doesn't like lying to her, but he knows if he told her he was sneaking out to hang out with Devin and Cecelia that Joni (anyone in the house, really) would go straight to Frank and Helen in a heartbeat.
He shoves the guilt that comes with deceiving his sister to the back of his head and drives off without even so much as a glance back.
…
"How could I let this happen?" Phoebe muses aloud, pacing back and forth. Her expression is blank as she stares at the wall and Christina is busy rushing around the room, preparing for the football game tonight. "I mean…it's sick and wrong and illegal. Plus, it's Dylan. He's the most arrogant and irritating guy on the planet…well, besides William and sometimes Rodge."
"He's leaving," Christina announces, standing by the window, spotting Dylan who doesn't even bother to look around before unlocking William's car and driving down the hill.
"He's probably going to hang out with Devin or that skank, Cecelia," Phoebe sneers. She shakes her head and tries to convince herself that she doesn't care. She refuses to let his childish antics get to her. "He's such a damn hypocrite saying that I run every time I can't deal with something. What's he doing right now? It sure as hell looks like running to me."
"Phoebe, he's just…confused."
"Like I'm not," Phoebe says angrily. She pulls a familiar notebook from beneath her pillow and begins flipping through it, her movement so harsh some pages tear at the spine.
"What?" Christina stops with her mascara wand in hand, quickly turning to gaze over at her older stepsister. Phoebe cries out in utter frustration and hurls her notebook at the wall in one violent sweep of her arm. Christina jumps at her vanity when the book hits the wall and all the papers scatter to the floor.
"Why the hell is all of this happening?" Phoebe asks in an extremely calm whisper. Christina feels nervous and she allows her eyes to fall to the floor, not being able to give Phoebe an answer. The cheerleader notices how a certain page has fallen to her feet, the words catching her eye.
What just happened?
Did you kiss me?
Cause that's a place we've never been until now
And I don't know how it's gonna be after this
Do we pretend these feelings don't exist at all
Or do we fall?
My confusion shows whenever you get so close
I stumble, I stutter, forget what to say
I'm nervous, I wonder why I'm acting this way
"Christina, what are you looking at?" Phoebe asks with curiosity, tilting her head to one side. Christina ignores her, reaching down for the paper in need of a closer look.
It's temporary insanity
What's going on with you and me?
Is it real or is it fantasy?
Forever or just temporary?
"Christina, let me see," Phoebe nervously insists. She jumps out of her bed and walks over, panicking when she notices what's on the paper. Phoebe looks absolutely petrified. "Christina, give it to me now!"
"Wait. Let me finishing reading it," Christina says absentmindedly, pulling the paper away from Phoebe as her eyes search the lyrics. Terrified of what Christina might say, Phoebe propels forward, desperately scrambling to reclaim the sheet of paper.
You made a moved and changed your mind
Too much to lose, you've crossed the line between friends
And something more
Was it all a big mistake?
And if it was, it's much too late to undo
And I don't really want to
Let you go but I still don't know
How I feel about you
What this really means
It's crazy to want you
Is it meant to be?
"Don't touch my crap ever again," Phoebe threateningly advises and yanks the paper away. Christina watches as the paper crumples in Phoebe's hand before she bends down to collect all the other fallen pages.
"Phoebe, is that how you really feel?" Christina asks; her voice soft. There's no more laughter or teasing. If it's another boy, Jason or even William, Christina would be wearing a crazy smirk and would never let Phoebe live it down.
But it's not Jason. It isn't William either. It's Dylan.
"Go ahead," Phoebe shouts, her voice as sharp as knives. "Laugh because I don't care. Like I said, it's over."
"You aren't being fair to him," Christina fights, so serious and unlike the usually bubbly cheerleader. "He wants you and you want him too, but you're denying it in front of him and you've got to know hearing that is killing him. That song obviously says otherwise, Phoebe."
"Like the song, it's just temporary insanity," Phoebe simply shrugs. "I'll get over it."
"Phoebe, as cheesy as it probably sounds, you can't deny love or who you love no matter how insane it may be," Christina warns the musician who bites hard against her bottom lip. "Is there more?"
"There's so much more," Phoebe confesses despite the pit of fear within her. Phoebe flattens the creases out of the paper she'd just crumpled and sticks it back into the book. "It started when I went to that winter break college tour thing. Every day I wrote a different song and as much as I tried to deny it even to myself…I was thinking about him the whole time."
It takes Christina a moment to digest everything. It's hard to watch Phoebe break down, having has no idea whatsoever how to fix everything. Phoebe's just a girl in love with a boy that loves her back. Christina realizes them being legal siblings, having the same last name, might make things a lot more complicated than any of them ever anticipated.
…
"D, what're you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Dylan inquires, almost angrily. He's standing in the driveway to one of the largest houses in all of Connecticut located in one of the more wealthy New London neighborhoods. The sun is long gone and teenagers are buzzing, piling into the mansion with Ferraris in the six car garage and an indoor pool out back.
Dylan's leaning awkwardly against William's SUV with the one and only Rodge Montgomery across from him. Rodge looks absolutely shocked to see Dylan North at one of Devin's parties and vice versa. Dylan narrows his eyes and asks the question even though he already knows the answer, "does Silver know you're here?"
"You were there today," Rodge says, evading the question. "What do you think?"
"Shouldn't you be at your brother's game?"
"Shouldn't you be home watching your girly TV shows?"
The two teenage boys share a hard stare and neither attempt to answer the other's question. Dylan doesn't know what's going on with this boy who he once referred to as his best friend. Lately, Dylan feels like Rodge is a complete stranger, sneaking around and always so guarded.
"Listen, man," Rodge starts, sighing and placing his hand on Dylan's broad shoulder. "I'm tired of fighting and drama and shit. That's why I came here and I'm guessing that's why you did too. Let's just chill for tonight, okay? Tomorrow you can go back to tearing my head off over this thing with Silver."
Dylan doesn't want to admit it, but Rodge does have a point. He too is tired of fighting with Phoebe and the drama that constantly fills the North-Beardsley lighthouse. Dylan came to Devin's house for a reason and that reason isn't to fight and cause even more drama. Plus, he came to the party with a mission and that mission isn't to give Rodge even more shit than already on his plate.
"What happens at Devin's, stays at Devin's, right?"
"Aw, see, Lennon, now you're speaking my language," Rodge smirks and throws his arm around Dylan's neck, practically dragging him in through the front door. The second they step into the house, Dylan feels like he's just walked in through the gates of hell. The heat and humidity of the room is unbearable along with the smoke lingering in the air and spilt liquor on the floor.
The house is full of scantily clothed teenage girls, all trying to act older than the birthdates on their student I.D. cards. The football game should be over in a matter of minutes and that's when the house will be completely packed whether it's a celebratory party or a self-pity party. Whether or not Hunter comes through and brings New London a title, tonight curfews are being ignored and liquor is being drained.
Rodge starts scanning the crowd though Dylan isn't sure why. Devin's isn't exactly goody two-shoes Christina Beardsley's scene. Suddenly, Dylan feels sick to his stomach at the thought of Rodge searching for an easy lay. At least if he's with Christina, Dylan knows Rodge is forced to take it slow. These girls, however, are willing to put out simply at his offer of a charming smile.
Dylan doesn't know why he's here. He doesn't know how, a couple months ago, this place had felt like his second him. He knows that Brooke's parents and Silver's parents are MIA most of the time so they'd come to Devin's for a lack of a better way to entertain themselves. Hunter and Rodge's parents don't give a shit about their late night pleasure trips − their mom working most of the time and their dad's only concern being Hunter's football career.
Then there's Dylan who actually has a mother and siblings that give a rat's ass about him. He can't count with his fingers how many times he's had Naoko or Jimi or even ten-year-old Joni cover for him while he snuck out for the night. It all seems so stupid now, the way he'd do anything just for an adrenalin rush. Now, tonight, he doesn't want that rush or old feelings to resume. All he wants is to forget.
"Whoa," Rodge grabs onto the lapel of Dylan's blazer and stops him from walking further. Smirking, Rodge nods over to a group of girls on the dance floor, laughing their intoxicated laughs and grinding their bodies against each other. "What do you say about hitting the dance floor, wingman?"
"Nah, I think I'm good here," Dylan replies, having to yell over the blaring music. Dylan knows how Rodge attracts the girls like a moth to a flame, having some seriously badass moves. Dylan knows better than to be anywhere near Rodge on a dance floor. He'll only end up looking like a complete idiot beside Mr. Smooth.
"D, look at that blonde," Rodge urges him, biting on his knuckles as the girl in a miniscule skirt throws him a saucy wink. "Aw, man, look at those damn hazel eyes. That's the shit some of the best love songs are written about."
Dylan isn't so impressed. "Silver's are nicer."
"What the fuck are you doing looking into my girl's eyes?" Rodge asks, suddenly exploding with such anger raging in his dark eye. It's times like this where Dylan feels like suggesting he seek medical attention because Rodge seems like the definition of bipolar.
What the fuck are you doing looking at other girls behind your girlfriend's back? That's the question on the tip of Dylan's tongue, but he holds back, remembering that this night is supposed to be a time for them to relax and unwind, not worsen the already difficult and tangled situation.
"Dude, relax." Dylan smiles to show Rodge that this doesn't have to be some tense moment that results in a fight. "I'm your wingman, brah. I wouldn't even go for Silver if you did finally grow a pair and tell her how you feel. We're family. Family doesn't chase after family's girlfriends or ex-girlfriends or even sideline mistresses. Now loosen the fuck up, will yah?"
"Wow, Mr. Mopes is telling me to loosen the fuck up? I never thought I'd see the day," Rodge teases, his blood pressure dropping as he slicks his fingers through his dark bangs. "What'd you have in mind?"
"Some whiskey would be nice," Dylan replies absentmindedly, looking from side to side.
"Your wish is my command," Rodge grins like a fool. "I'll bring you something special."
Dylan inwardly curses, not sure if he can take a night of hardcore partying like he could once upon a time. Rodge walks away, blending in with the crowd to the point where Dylan loses him. He's surrounded by nameless faces and tries his best to evade stumbling drunks with glasses of liquor, not wanting to get his cast wet.
"Wow, when Cecelia told me Dylan North was going to make an appearance at my little shindig, I laughed. I can't believe you're actually here," a rough voice says from behind. "Welcome home, Dylan."
Dylan wants to say how this toxic environment feels nothing like home, but his lips refuse to move. Compensating for his frozen mouth, his feet move without command, bringing Dylan face to face with someone he once looked up to, someone he once trusted with his life.
Devin.
He's nineteen-years-old and already a high school dropout. He considers himself a badass though his intimidating quality doesn't stem from his strength or the circumference of his biceps. Devin is intensely charismatic and doesn't waste his charm on trapping innocent high school virgins like Rodge. Devin is manipulative and so good with words, using that to get almost anything and everything he wants.
He comes from a wealthy family so it isn't like he has to work or go to school. He's known around town for slinging drugs and throwing the best parties. He's tall and built like a linebacker, sporting an expensive suit and a wolfish smirk. His head is buzzed, skin tan and face clean shaven. Dylan stands in front of him, the guy he blames for the overdose incident and pretending nothing happened is simply too hard.
"Dylan, you showed!" an excited voice squeals and all of a sudden he feels arms sling around his shoulders, weighing him down. A look of panic crosses his face and he moves his cast, not wanting the giggly and obviously drunk Cecelia McBride near it.
"D, drink this!" Rodge shouts, coming up beside him with a shot glass filled with a rich, golden liquid. He's holding a dark bottle of beer in his other hand and already he's smiling without a care in the world. Dylan's confused as to how he does it, how Rodge can so easily put his conscience on the backburner and go through the motions, getting some satisfaction from it.
Dylan's skin tingles when he feels Cecelia's wet vodka-laced lips sucking and licking at his neck. Devin's smirking with pride at how his family seems to be coming back together. However, Dylan sees something that Devin can't. This party, this scene, it's just failed attempts at piecing together broken parts, using alcohol and promises of sex as glue.
Despite his eyes that are now opened to the corruption he once thrived in, Dylan knows for a fact that being here, losing himself in his old ways, is ten times better than being back at that lighthouse, crying over something far more shameful and immoral.
So he takes the shot Rodge hands to him and when Cecelia presses her lips to his, he kisses her back. He kisses her hard and makes her moan and touches her hot flesh with his cold fingers. He knocks back drink after drink and laughs at stupid things that make no sense and definitely aren't funny. He tells lies, agreeing with everything Devin says and telling Cecelia she's the only girl who does it for him.
All the while, Dylan feels nothing.
Temporary Insanity © Alexz Johnson