Wow. Here we are at the end.
THANK YOU FROM EVERY CORNER OF MY HEART: DancingintheRayne, FaithInMe, 3, ixdookiie, sophie, 0[dot]o[dot]LooLoo09[dot]o[dot]0, fanfictionlover145, teri, ericka, Lovingu, and whenyousmile47.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Your Hand In Mine
Dylan Marvil heard a quote once, when she was younger.
Back when he was still with her mother, Dylan's father liked to sit in the leather armchair in the corner of their den and watch reruns of an old TV show she never seemed to care for at the age of three. He would watch it for hours, it seemed, before scooping Dylan up in his arms and carrying her upstairs to tuck her in. One day her dad was sat in the chair focusing intently on the screen, as per usual. Dylan had clambered over toward him clutching her favorite Barbie and it's decapitated head, tears threatening to spill over her rosy cheeks. He simply smiled, scooped her up in his arms, and examined the broken toy before him.
And that's when Dylan heard it.
"I don't care how poor a man is; if he has family, he's rich"
The meaning of this never really registered to her when her dad handed back a repaired doll to her the next morning. It never registered when she woke up another morning a few years later to find out he wasn't there anymore. And even during those quiet hours alone in her house or planning her escape to Dartmouth, she never really got it.
Until now.
On the screen before her, Dylan watched as her mother laughed and smiled at today's guest. This was the first time she has watched her mom on TV since middle school. And through her cringing she realized why.
This glamorized Stepford wife was not her mother. Nor was the cold and detached shell of a woman who she normally saw. Her mother had been sucked into this talk show she poured her heart into. It was more than her job or career; it was her life.
Dylan turned off the screen with disgust.
Beside her, her phone lay quiet. Though she could tell by the absence of a flashing light that she had no new messages, she turned it on and stared at her empty inbox. Her sisters hadn't spoken to her since they left for college a few years ago, and it's been almost two days since she texted them in an attempt to catch up.
She supposed this meant she was broke.
[ ]
"So, does this mean you're going to call up Dylan and tell her that you forgive her?" Massie said into her phone. It was another chilly day in January, and although she was dressed somewhat warmly (dark denim jeans with dark brown leather boots, cream long sleeved shirt, recently found black blazer and a tan hobo bag) the chill slapped against her skin like ice water. However, the only good thing to happen in Massie's day was occurring at this moment; she was just a few more words away from getting Kristen to cave and speak to Dylan again.
But her intellectual friend just wouldn't go down without a fight. "I don't know, Mass. Every time I go to call her I just remember what she did and I want to slap her all over again."
"Hey, believe me when I say Josh isn't worth this," Massie said, squinting her eyes as a gust of chilly wind blew by. "Not to bring offence to Dyl, but something is obviously wrong with him if he cheated on you. Let her have that flakey asshole and be the bigger person."
"So you're saying I should let the two people who betrayed me be happy while I continue to be miserable just so I can be the 'bigger person'?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Massie sighed. "Dylan's really making an effort to show you how sorry she is. Do you know she hasn't spoken to Josh in about a month?"
"I'm aware. Josh called me to bitch me out for it, actually."
"See?" Massie made an encouraging hand gesture she forgot her friend couldn't see. "He's a dick. Maybe Dylan's did you a favor."
Kristen huffed; Massie could hear her impatience. "You know what? I'll call her, just to get you to stop bashing them to make me feel better. It's actually making me feel guilty. Unless that was your endgame after all?"
"Use guilt to make you reconcile with your best friend? What on earth are you talking about?" Massie grinned to herself. "But I'm glad you agreed. Just try to make nice, okay?"
"Whatever you say. I'll talk to you later."
"See you," With a smile on her face, Massie slipped her phone back into her bag. A person's day can really brighten once they've set things right again.
Her boots clacked softly against the pavement with each step she took, and she sighed deeply. Her interview at her dad's company was coming up this Sunday, and although she was confident she had it in the bag her nerves couldn't help but send her stomach fluttering.
Her dorm building approached in her vision. Massie went over everything her dad taught her about his company to assure herself. Clients come first, because at the end of the day they're what determine your paycheck. Never-
She stopped.
There was someone sitting on the end of the bench outside of the Gilbert dorm building. Slumped forward with arms on his knees, he looked cold. His hair, a shaggy dirty blond mop that was normally a little more kept than it was now, ruffled in the wind. And then he looked up, his brown eyes still stunning even from this distance, and saw her.
Shit.
"Massie," Derrick stood up. It was apparent that he wasn't sure if he could approach her or not. "Hi."
"No," Massie said, stalking past him into the building. "Nope, sorry. Not happening."
"Come on," Derrick was right there with her, every step she took. "I have to talk to you. Please, Massie."
"You don't just get to show up here and get to talk to me. Especially not now." Now that I've just started to move on.
"Massie, please," It was easy for Derrick to keep up with her. Nikes were a far more superior shoe than Steve Madden when it came to speed. He dodged a group of mingling girls who shared the building with her as he tagged along up the stairs. "Why would I come all this way if I don't care about you? If I don't love you?"
"Just go away," Massie was done with it, done with him; he could tell by her tone. But the thing was, he wasn't finished.
"No, Massie," He reached out to grab her arm, but she shook just out of his reach. "Please. I have to talk to you."
She spun around at this, amber eyes blazing as they met his pleading ones. "Did it ever occur that maybe I don't want to talk to you?"
"And did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't care?" Derrick retorted. Massie's eyes narrowed before she spun around and ducked into the stairwell. But, Derrick was close behind. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me."
"Then be sure to take up a place with Cam, because you'll be here a while." Massie expertly avoided the eyes of her curious dorm mates as they passed.
Derrick sighed irritably. He jumped the stairs two at a time to stay right at her side. "This is ridiculous. Why can't you just talk to me?"
"Because I've heard it all!" Massie suddenly stopped, spinning around to face him as she yelled. But it seemed they were both taken aback from her outburst, for they stood there, staring at each other. Moments passed before she spoke again. "You've done enough, Derrick, to show me exactly why I shouldn't trust you. You showed me what you really cared about, and it obviously was not us."
"Don't you say that," Derrick took a step up so that he was eyelevel with her. "I remember clear as day saying repeatedly it was a mistake-"
"And that's what I find so funny about all of this," Amber eyes flashing with rage, she scoffed. "You say it was a mistake, but you not only called me up on the phone to dump me but you dated this girl for a month. If you really didn't mean it, if it was really some mistake, why would it have lasted that long?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned so suddenly Derrick caught a whiff of her shampoo.
Of course, he was right on her tail again as she exited the stairwell and onto what he assumed was her room floor. "Massie, you don't think I wanted to undo it the second after I hung up? Hit redial?" They were halfway down the hallway by now, though there were way fewer people in this one. "How many times do I have to say it until you understand?"
"Until you're blue in the face, if you'd like," Massie took out her key from her purse and inserted into the slot. "Hell, until you pass out. But I'm not listening anymore, so I'd appreciate it if you would leave me alone now, alright?" She had the door open and disappeared inside, and Derrick grew desperate. This was his last shot, and he'll be damned if he was letting her go now.
He wasn't even thinking when he did it, but he was quick to block the door with his body and slip inside. She turned with wild eyes. "What the hell Derrick! Leave, or I'll call campus police."
"Massie, I love you," He noticed her eyes distinctly avoiding his. "And I'm not leaving. Not yet. I'd wait forever if it means you'll forgive me, and I'm sure you remember how stubborn I can be."
A brief flashback to Homecoming their freshman year tugged upwards at the corner of her mouth, but she was quick to stop it. Massie's anger suddenly vanished, and was replaced with an earnest desperation. "Please, Derrick. Just go away."
Derrick took advantage of her lowered guard and took a few steps closer. "You know I won't do that."
"Why can't you just leave it be?" Massie took a staggering step backwards, but the back of her knees hit the bed. Damn her square footage. "Why can't you just take no for an answer and leave me the hell alone? Please."
Derrick, now towering over her shorter frame, said simply, "If you can honestly tell me that you want this to be over, for good, then I'll leave."
Massie looked up into his dark eyes, at a complete loss for words. There was nothing she'd like more than to stand up for herself and her bruised feelings and end it for good- forever. But she missed him, so, so much. And all it would take were less than a handful of simple words to get it all back again.
But it wasn't coming out. She looked at him with near desperation, still struggling with the choice. Massie realized she couldn't say it. She couldn't say anything.
"That's what I thought," Derrick said breathlessly. He cupped her face in his hands and bent down to capture her lips in a kiss.
Massie was so taken aback she nearly fell backwards onto the bed. But he caught her, seemly holding on for dear life. She was torn between shoving him off and surrendering into it. But to be kissing him again felt... spectacular. Massie could smell the aftershave he'd been using since high school, the laundry-detergent mixed with hints of Aqua Di Gio scent that had become his signature since she bought the cologne for him, and even the bitterness of January seemed to be lingering on his skin. And before she really had time to reflect on what was whirring through her head, it was over. He pulled away with eyes closed. Just still and breathing.
She looked up at him through her lashes, trying to read his expression. Though she didn't really return his display she had no trouble detecting what he tried to put into it. It was a desperate last-ditch effort to show her what he meant, what he felt. And she had to be brain dead not to have felt it too.
"Derrick, I-" Massie said, voice just barely above a whisper.
"No, don't," He said. His eyes bore into hers with such intensity she had to fight the instinct to turn away. "Before you tell me you never want to see me again, let me just say this." A swift lick of his lips. "I love you, Block. No other girl could ever change that. Being with you is one of the only things that really makes me feel safe, like for once in our ridiculous lives something went right. Don't believe for a second that I feel any less than that."
Derrick Harrington stood before her, completely vulnerable and brutally honest. And Massie hated him for it. Just when she started to truly move on from him, he pulls a stunt like this. He says everything she wanted him to say. And worst of all, he meant it.
"I can't- I hate you for that. You hurt me so badly, and then show up at my dorm saying things like that. What is it with you?" She swallowed hard, sentences coming out incoherently.
"I know, I know" Derrick shifted his weight back and forth. He was still so close. "And I'm sorry. Just say we're over, and I'll walk out that door and never come back."
"But I don't want you too," Massie was sure Derrick's expression didn't come close to the one that was surely donned on her face. The words sort of slipped out, and there was no way to take them back now. "I don't want you to hurt me, but I don't want you to leave, either. I just- I just want you, Derrick." And hitting the peak for the most surprising action of the evening, Massie extended her neck out and captured his lips for another kiss.
It was much needier than the one before it, but shorter too. Derrick broke it off to smile at her, a sight she didn't realize until then how much she had missed. Enveloping her into an embrace, she caught the words he exhaled into her ear.
"Thank god."
[ ]
In the cold and quiet night, Kristen wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. Her bag slapped against her side as she hurried back to her dorm, weighed down with her recent book additions from the library. School work had always been that constant for her, the thing that no matter what would never change. In math, formulas were absolute. In English, the rules of grammar were always the same. But in real life, surprise after surprises were thrown at her. Things can barely last a year before it all falls to crap. And then where were you left? In heartbreak and despair.
Her phone had been clutched in her hand ever since her conversation with Massie had ended. She knew that her friend was right about Dylan- Kristen had to talk to her about what happened between them. But it was still a hard decision to make. It was hard to give the knife back to the person who embedded it into your spine.
Suddenly her phone vibrated in her palm, causing her to jump. Looking at the display screen, a scoff escaped her lips. Speak of the devil.
She swallowed, sliding a shaky finger over to the green button on the small device. She supposed it was better to get this over with sooner than later, and there was no better time like the present. "Hello?"
"Um, hey Kristen, it's Dylan."
"Yeah, I figured from the caller ID," Kristen said awkwardly.
"Oh, I wasn't sure if you had- uh, never mind," Dylan stumbled over her syllables. "Look, I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to- I wanted to apologize to you, for everything."
"Oh," Kristen said, with eyebrows raised.
"Yeah. And uh," Her old friend trailed off. "I didn't mean to ruin our friendship or betray you or hurt you or anything. I guess I was just being selfish."
"It's, um," Kristen paused, taking a deep breath. "It's okay. And you know, you don't have to feel bad about Josh. Not seeing him wouldn't change the fact that he cares about you, as I'm sure you care about him. So stop punishing him, alright?"
"Okay. I mean," Dylan sighed. From the years she has known her Kirsten could bet her scholarship that her friend's old nail biting habit just made a cameo appearance. "I didn't want… Are, are we good now? Like before?"
Kristen sighed. "No Dylan, not like before. I don't know what to call it, but I can honestly say it's not going back to like it was before anytime soon."
"Oh," She could hear the obvious disappointment. "I get it, I understand. It's just, uh, thank you for taking my call."
"It's no problem, you can still call me."
"Bye, Kristen," Dylan said.
"Goodbye," She was about to hang up the phone when she remembered something. "Oh, and Dylan?"
"Yeah?"
Kristen gave a small smile she knew she could not see. "Go see Josh."
[ ]
Dylan smiled, biting her lip as she hurried along the brick sidewalk outside of the small corner café. Kristen's conversation lit a small spark of hope in her heart- not just for their friendship but also for Josh as well.
She had just texted him, asking him to meet her for a cup of coffee and hopefully a long discussion. That is, if he'll even show. She knew that her behavior lately towards him didn't exactly have him skipping up to her, clicking his heels and brandishing a bouquet. But all she could do was let him know she was ready and waiting.
The place was nearly deserted (as it should be on a Thursday night), and Dylan found solitude in a corner booth facing the door. Just as she sat down, a waitress came over and Dylan ordered herself a cappuccino. But once it was brought before her, she realized that her nerves were too great to stomach it. And so she passed the cup back and forth between her hands, waiting on him to show up.
Minutes ticked by almost painfully, and soon almost an hour had passed. But she wasn't giving up just yet. Outside, rain spattered against the windowpane, and Dylan watched a group of people rush for cover, their jackets aloft above their heads. And then the door chimed, and there was Josh- drenched from head to toe.
He noticed her in the corner, and his mouth grew into a lopsided smile. "Hey," He said as he approached. "I'm sorry. I didn't get your text until about a half an hour ago."
"No, no, it's fine," Dylan watched as he sat down across from her, shrugging off his soaked North Face raincoat like a layer of skin.
"So uh," Josh cleared his throat. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Us, simply put," Dylan said. "I know I shouldn't have acted like a fifth grader in dealing with this, so I'm sorry for that, but it's just been a conflicting time for me right now."
Josh sighed, almost sadly. "I actually wanted to say sorry too. I was also acting like a jerk."
"No, it was understandable," Dylan said slowly. Her emerald eyes were trained on his hands, which were clasped together in front of him as he leaned on his forearms. "I just couldn't handle seeing you because I knew what I did to Kristen just to see you like that. I wanted to be with you, yes, but I also wanted to get my friend back and so I thought to do that I couldn't see you."
"And so now we're…?"
Dylan raised her eyes, smiling at him. "I want to be with you Josh. Out in the open, with other people around. I want to go with you on one of those cheesy group dates Massie used to have us all do. I want to hang out around our friends and not have to worry about hiding how we feel."
Josh paused, grinning. "Are you asking me out?"
Dylan laugh filled the otherwise empty café. "Yeah, I guess I am."
His grin now threatening to tear his face in half, Josh stood up and leaned across the table to capture her in a kiss.
And all of a sudden Dylan was a millionaire.
[ ]
From her perch on the end on her bed, Claire had a pretty good view of life outside of her window. It was a clear night in New York City, completely dry and cloudless. And just beyond the campus ground the bright lights of the city shone like a beacon. She rapped her pencil against her blank notebook page again and again, trying to find the right words to build a perfect thesis.
Claire really didn't feel like writing this essay. Excuse her, but that crap can wait. Her camera beckoned her from his perch at her desk, it's place in her room ever since she took the pictures off the memory card from Aspen. Without thinking twice, Claire stepped off her bed and scooped it up, throwing on her jacket and leather boots on her way out the door.
The fresh air was sweet and forgiving. Claire breathed in deeply, powering up her camera. What better therapy was there?
The quad was fairly deserted, and she walked alone in silence. Without people, though, it was hard for her to find an immediate subject. Claire enjoyed taking people's portraits more than capturing a landscape, but she supposed she'd have to make due. Procrastination had a hold of her and it was not letting go anytime soon.
She made her way toward the edge of campus, where she knew there was a park bench with a pretty good view. Though she kind of hated the place now, even she had to admit it was beautiful. But as she approached, she saw another figure huddled on the bench. Not wanting to bother them, she left as quietly as she could.
"Claire?"
She turned. Cam stood up from his seat on the bench. He nodded at her. "Out for a stroll? Don't you have that paper to do?"
"Yeah, I'm strolling," Claire ignored the second question, fingering her camera. She hadn't talked to him since their blowout the other night. "What are- what are you doing here?"
"Just needed to clear my head." He exhaled, and his breath left in a puff of fog. They stood there in silence, a few feet apart, still as loss with what to say about their fallout the other night.
Exhaling, Claire had the urge to leave. "So I should probably go do that paper-"
"Claire," Cam said, approaching her slowly. "It's been bothering me all night, but," He stopped, alternating his weight from foot to foot. "I shouldn't have stormed off like that and left things as they were. I should have told you about those transfer papers, I know that. But believe me when I say I forgot about them after Aspen-"
"No, Cam, it's okay," Claire interjected. "I should have understood. I shouldn't have expected you to stand around and just be there at my beck and call. So I'm sorry, and I promise you I won't say anything about it again."
With a relieved grin, Cam closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her. Claire felt him kiss the top of her head and let out a sigh. "God. You know, I hate how we're going right back into our old patterns. What is it with us?"
"I don't know," Claire said into the lapel of his jacket. "But I wish we could stop."
Cam pulled away just enough to smile at her. His mismatched eyes had a small spark to them. "I have a feeling this is just who we are, at least for now. Maybe there still is some hurt feelings between us from the last few years, things that still need to be resolved."
Leaning her head against his shoulder, Claire sighed. "Well, I'm willing to try if you are."
"Of course I am. There's nothing else I could even think about doing."
[ ]
Kemp unlocked his dorm room cautiously. He had no doubt that Josh was in there right now, but he had to get some much-needed rest in his own bed. His back and shoulders ached from that stiff library chair, and his eyes nearly burned from sheer exhaustion. If he didn't get some rest soon, he'd drop like a marionette with it's strings cut.
Sure enough, just as he opened a door he caught sight of Josh perched on the edge of his bed. His eyes were trained intently on the television screen in front of him. But he looked up at the sound of the door opening, and Kemp noticed his expression become guarded at the sight of him.
Without looking over, Kemp tossed his bag into the corner and striped his damp coat off. The last things to be removed were his shoes before he flopped face first onto his bed. It felt amazing. His eyes snapped shut immediately, and he was just on the verge of consciousness when Josh cleared his throat.
"Done avoiding me, are you?"
Kemp internally groaned. "Shut up, please."
"You know what, no," Josh's voice got stronger. "This is probably the only chance I'll get to talk to you for who knows how long. I still can't even believe you're pissed at me, all because I dated a girl. By the way, I never really figured out why that mattered to you."
Kemp lifted his head up and twirled around to face Josh. "For starters, you didn't really date her. She was the other woman you saw behind your girlfriend's back. I haven't been able to stand you knowing how you can easily do something that horrible to a girl you claimed you loved. Kristen is a friend of mine, Josh. I guess I just expected more of you."
Josh's hard expression softened a touch. "Damn, I didn't know you were so sensitive."
Kemp couldn't help it- he cracked a small grin. "Yeah, well while you guys were out playing soccer that one summer before freshman year, I was stuck inside with an easy bake oven. My emotions didn't stand a chance."
His old friend offered up a chuckle. "That explains everything. But can we put this whole thing behind us? We're fighting like chicks."
Looking at him thoughtfully, Kemp really considered it. It may be because he was exhausted and a little out of it, but eventually he said, "Yeah, let's forget about it."
"So are we good?" Josh extended out a hand.
Kemp cast a sidelong glance at it, and he took his sweet time deciding what to do next. He looked his old friend straight into his dark eyes and said, "You stop being a dick, Hotz." He grasped his friend's hand tightly.
Josh grinned. "Well I'm sorry your morals can't handle me."
"No, seriously," Kemp said. "You'll end up a lonely, grumpy old man who spends his free time patrolling his yard with a double barrel."
"Nah, I'm not really a gun person," Josh said. He scooted over on the end of his bed and picked up the controller, extending out the other one to Kemp. "Here- your morals can take back seat while I kick your ass at Madden."
"Madden is for pussies," Kemp protested, but accepted the controller anyway. "But bring it on."
It's almost funny how quickly things can change.
