Thirty-six

The next day I was sitting with Norman at the kitchen table going over some of the reoccurring themes in Edgar Allen Poe's short stories and wondering why the hell I hadn't yet dropped out of school when the doorbell rang. Dylan had gone upstairs as soon as I pulled out my textbook, as he usually did, so Norman and I went to answer the door together. Both of us looked pretty rough: we were both in sweats (something that was uncommon to see Norman in), we were both wearing t-shirts that should never have been seen in public, my hair was up, and my makeup was half rubbed off from me constantly wiping at my eyes to try and help me read because of how tired they were. So, of course, the one person that had to show up just happened to have the most power in the social ladder at school.

"Bradley?" Norman asked weakly when he opened the door. Holding back a groan at seeing her, I turned on my heel and walked back into the kitchen, hoping that she didn't get a good look at me. I didn't need anyone like Bradley, who could ruin you in two seconds by sending out a mass text, seeing me when even I didn't deem myself presentable. Though I was just hanging around the house and it was definitely okay for a girl to not dress up when she didn't think she was going to see anyone, I was almost sure that Bradley paraded around her empty house in a dress with pearls and elbow-length silk gloves because she was just that perfect. Scoffing, I picked up my pen again and acted like I was reading from the books that we'd been given, when, in reality, I was listening to what Bradley was saying to Norman.

"…yeah, I just dropped by because…oh hey, Dylan!"

My head snapped up. Dylan? From what I could see with my bad view from the kitchen, Dylan was standing at the bottom of the staircase holding something large in his arms, but my view was quickly cut off by Norman, who came through the door and stood next to it, pressing himself into the wood so he could hear what was going on in the living room. Standing up, I joined him and tried to lean over him as much as I could to hear. I used to do the same thing with my brother, I realized with the pang, when our mom would tuck us in at our grandparent's house and would go talk to them during the night.

"It was pretty crazy, yeah." I heard Dylan chuckle. Norman tensed and so did I, wondering what the hell Dylan and Bradley had done that could be called crazy. My mind immediately thought of worst case scenarios in which Dylan had gone to her house one of the nights that he came home from work and had sex with her because he thought I was being a prude for not doing it with him. My heart hammered against my chest and I found that it was hard to hear what was going on in the living room because I was breathing hard. Norman gently pushed me back so he could hear better what was going on.

"Yeah." Bradley said in a voice that made me picture her staring up at Dylan—my boyfriend—with her wide eyes that made practically every guy fall for her. There was a long pause before Dylan cleared his throat the way he did when he knew that he'd stayed quiet for too long and started to speak again.

"Uh, I cleaned out your dad's office and got everything. I even found…" there was rustling and I guessed that Dylan was digging something out from his pocket. I heard Bradley take in a sharp breath. "This."

"Oh my God!" she squealed. "The pocket watch! Oh, thank you so much Dylan!"

I almost burst into the living room when I heard the sound of her body hitting his in a forceful hug, but Norman had a tight grip on my arm that kept me beside him. I glared at him, commanding him silently to let me go, but he shook his head and brought a finger up to his tightly pressed together lips, telling me to shut up. With great effort, I turned and crossed my arms, resting my back against the wall of the kitchen to continue listening to Dylan and Bradley's conversation. Maybe listening in on what he was saying to another girl could classify me as a paranoid girlfriend, but I had the right to be because, from what Norman had told me and from what I knew about Bradley, she was probably all over Dylan. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

Lost in my head, I'd missed what Bradley had said to Dylan after she hugged him, but I heard his voice. "Don't worry about it; it was actually kind of fun, except for almost getting shot."

"Ha, yeah." Another silence stretched and I pressed myself closer to Norman's side, straining to hear anything that I could. He glanced over at me but didn't say anything, focusing on his brother and his crush in the other room. Dylan cleared his throat, this time to break up the awkward quiet that had taken place, and I let out a breath that I'd been holding. Thank God they couldn't talk about anything, otherwise I may have to worry a little more.

"Well, uh, it was nice seeing you again." Dylan said. I was biting my lip so hard it was bleeding, waiting for Bradley to leave. I heard her shuffle her feet and giggle lightly, making me groan internally at how stupid she was. I had never thought that I was the jealous type, but I was practically foaming at the mouth.

"Yeah." Bradley said. "Thanks again. I can't put into words how much this means to me."

"No problem. Anytime." I could hear the smile in Dylan's voice and I felt my legs weaken. Norman still had a tight grip on my arm, and he helped hold me up so I didn't slide down the wall on weak legs. Good God, was I really this big of a mess because Dylan was talking to another girl? There was something about the tone of his voice that made me think that maybe—just maybe—he was attracted to Bradley. I sagged where I was standing, wishing that I was looking nicer. Who could blame him if he was? His girlfriend looked like shit while Bradley, the most popular girl in town, was standing in front of him looking perfect, as always. The door swung open and closed, and I heard Dylan walk back up the stairs. I went and fell in the chair that I'd been occupying before, putting my head in my hands. Norman came over and sat across from me again, his expression just as downcast as mine.

He glanced up at me and reached out, gently touching my arm. I looked up. "I don't think that he likes her."

"You don't sound very convincing." I said hollowly.

"Well I'm not here to win an Oscar."

I felt myself smile and Norman looked down at his open book when I did. My grin slipped from my face, and I reached out and took his hand, which seemed to surprise him. "Do you still like her?"

"Maybe…I don't know. It's hard to get over someone that you slept with, I guess."

"Yeah," I said quietly, squeezing his hand. "I get it. If you ever need someone to help you hate her, I'm here and I will give it my full effort."

Norman laughed quietly and looked at our interlocked hands. "Thanks, Melanie."

XXX

I didn't talk to Dylan about his conversation with Bradley because I didn't want to seem like I was overbearing, but I was almost positive that he could tell I was shutting myself off from him. When he tried to pull me towards him the night that they'd had their cringe-worthy conversation, I had separated myself and had slept the furthest I'd ever slept from him, and the next morning I barely brushed my lips against his when he left for work. I knew that I was becoming every man's nightmare of a girlfriend by not telling him what was wrong, but what was I supposed to say? Oh, I'm super pissed because you're sharing a secret with Bradley and she came over yesterday solely to see you and I'm scared that I'm going to lose you to her.

No, I doubted that I'd have the guts to say that.

At school Norman and I walked with each other to each of our classes, avoiding looking at Bradley or her gaggle of adoring friends whenever we passed them. Both of us would flush when we saw her, but from two completely different feelings. I wanted to scream at her, and he wanted to sleep with her. It was hard for us to talk about anything happening at home because that would just remind me of Dylan, which in turn would remind Norman of Bradley, and both of those subjects just brought pain to us. So, we'd try in vain to discuss our upcoming test dates or the stories that Ms. Watson had told us to read, or we'd share some of the gossip that we'd heard while we were at our lockers that wasn't about either of us.

Unlike us, the school was alight with excitement. There were overly excited freshman around every turn, sophomores that were trying to act cool even though they were obvious ecstatic about the idea of the dance, and juniors and seniors that were familiar with the day-of routine, where they would pretty much get to skip class because their teachers knew that there was no controlling everyone and they would let them wander. The education system in White Pine Bay, everyone. Nothing like it.

As the teaching day neared its end, I found myself sitting near the band room with a textbook propped up on my leg next to a notebook, staring at the blank page where I was supposed to be writing an essay but was instead listening to the music that the band was playing. I didn't know much about music (I couldn't even read it) but I loved listening to all the separate instruments and the rhythms and the way that everyone blended together to make beautiful noise. I wished for the thousandth time that I'd joined band when I'd gotten to the sixth grade, but that time hadn't been the best for me, and I doubted that I'd be able to be in a class that required you to play in front of sixty or so kids and act like you knew what you were doing. The confidence that those kids had…I'd never and doubted that I ever would possess it.

Someone was walking down the hallway towards me and I flattened myself against the wall as much as I could so they could pass me or go around me. I'd seen some weird things in the hallways at school: kids running around in horse-head masks, people toting crates full of water balloons, a boy that was carrying a deer leg that still had hair on it and was connected to a hoof, and even a loose chicken from our agriculture department, but I always felt like people would think that I was a freak for sitting in the floor doing homework. Not many kids in my grade had free periods like I did, so it was odd to see someone outside of class just hanging around.

It turned out that the kid walking down the hallway didn't even give me a second glance and went straight into the drama classroom, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she did. I knew that she was a freshman from seeing her in the school playing and hearing people talk about how talented and young she was, and I was surprised that she was acting like such a high and mighty bitch. Then again, compared to the senior sitting on the floor outside of the room that people called Nerdvona, she was. I sighed and looked down at my work again, deciding that I'd do it at home while everyone else was out at the dance. Maybe Dylan and I could talk about Bradley, but I wasn't too sure that I wanted to do that. My head pounded with a headache and I shut my books with a snap and decided to make a trip to the nurse and get some Advil. I walked through the empty hallways with my books clutched to my chest, looking down at the floor whenever someone would pass me. I realized how pathetic I must look to everyone else when I got a glance at myself in the mirror-like window of the library, and I sighed.

XXX

That night Norman threw a tantrum. He couldn't find the right tie and demanded that I help him pick one out, and I handed him a bowtie that he couldn't put on, and I had to tie it. Being as uncultured as I was, I had no idea how to tie the damn thing, so I had to search instructions on how to do it as Norman wailed at me in the background and almost started crying. Once that was finished, he shrugged on his coat and calmed down for a minute, allowing me to take a deep breath and collapse on the foot of his bed. Since I wasn't going to the dance I was still in the clothes that I'd worn to school, but I'd taken off my wool sweater and had replaced it with an old, thin t-shirt that was loose and comfortable.

Then, before I could even ask what time Emma was going to pick him up, Norman started shouting about how he didn't have any socks to go with what he had on. I groaned and fell back on his blankets, covering my eyes with my hands. Honestly, could a boy have much more trouble getting dressed?! It wasn't that difficult! He stormed out of his room when he saw that I was going to be no help, and I heard him arguing with Norma, his voice continually rising until he almost sounded like a girl. Dylan came down from his room, where he'd been taking a quick nap because work had left him drained, and wearily came to ask me what was going on.

"Norman's being a diva." I said through the arm that was slung over my face. Chuckling, Dylan came over and hoisted me up, kissing me briefly. I was too stressed to even remember that I was worried about him and Bradley, and I kissed him back.

"He always is."

"Oh," I closed my eyes and leaned my head against Dylan's chest when Norman screamed once more, willing for him to just shut up and leave already. Dylan's chest vibrated with a chuckle and he ran his hand through my hair a couple of times, his touch causing me to relax. I'd missed his effect on me. "Can you help him out?"

"Yeah," Dylan pressed his lips to my forehead and grinned. "I'll let him borrow a pair of socks."

"Bless you." I breathed, following him out of his little brother's room and to Norma's, where Norman was yelling. I rubbed my temples with my fingers and wished that Norman would get over himself and realize that the dance wasn't all about him. How hard was it to get dressed?!

When he saw us approaching Norman turned and stared at us. "I have socks you can borrow, Norman." Dylan told him, making his younger brother's shoulders sag with relief.

"Okay. Thanks."

"Yeah, come on, I'll get them for you." Dylan's hand found mine and he pulled me along with him and Norman to our room. I'd been looking at Norma, who seemed more reserved than usual. She was pale and quiet, and she hadn't even looked angry when she saw Dylan holding my hand. I wondered if she was catching a cold or if something was wrong.

Dylan shut his door behind Norman and me and went to go through his drawer. I sat on our bed and brought my feet up under me, while Norman stood rigidly by our door. He was staring at Dylan with an expression that I hadn't really seen before, and I studied him. Did he look…angry? I tried to catch his eye but he was determinedly not even glancing in my direction.

Turning around with a pair of black socks in his hand, Dylan grinned and threw them to Norman. He caught them and went to sit next to me so he could put them on. Dylan leaned against the wall opposite us, watching his little brother. "You excited to go to the dance?"

"Yeah. Sure." Norman snapped, yanking the sock up further on his skinny calf. I understood that he was stressed because he'd never been to a dance before, but there was no reason to be rude to Dylan when all he was doing was helping him out. I nudged Norman's arm with mine harder than I needed to, staring at him. He rolled his eyes at me and I looked to Dylan for an explanation, but he shrugged.

"Who're you going with again?" Dylan asked, trying to lessen the tension in the room.

"Not Bradley, if that's what you're worried about."

I felt like I'd been slapped. Once again Norman was in a rage and he was making accusations about Dylan and Bradley. Just hours ago I may have been thinking that there was something going on between them that I didn't know about and had been close to tears over it, but I now felt like Norman was insulting me by saying that to Dylan. When I looked at Dylan, I saw that he was furious.

"Excuse me?" he hissed. Norman continued to fumble with his socks as he talked.

"We heard you talking with her yesterday." He said venomously. "If you want to date her, just say so. I thought that you may not flirt with her because you actually liked Melanie and you cared about me, but I guess that's not the case."

"Norman!" I cried. Dylan took one step and had my arm in his hand and had pulled me to my feet by his side. Norman stood once his feet were covered with Dylan's socks and stared at us with a gaze so hard it made me feel at a loss for words. How could he retreat so far back from the person I thought I knew? I hated this side of him and I didn't want to have to deal with it.

"Well, what was it that you and Bradley were talking about, Dylan?" Norman asked. Dylan's muscles coiled and I looked up at him, wanting to make sure I could stop him if he threw a punch at Norman.

"I helped her get her dad's stuff from his office." He said through his teeth. "She wanted it because he died. Remember that, Norman?"

He clenched his jaw and I could tell that what he was remembering involved the night he'd spent over at her house because of Bradley's supposed grief. "Yeah. I remember."

"Norman, can you come down here?" Norma called from the bottom of the stairs. I was for once thankful for her always needing to be around her youngest son. Norman and Dylan shared their glare for a few more moments before Norman broke it and headed out of the door, his hands in fists at his sides. Dylan watched him go and let out a small breath when he disappeared down the staircase, closing his eyes and putting his forehead against mine.

"You know that I don't like Bradley, right?" he whispered, worry coloring his voice. I closed my eyes too and relished the words.

"I wasn't too sure, actually." I said quietly. Dylan's arms tensed around my waist and I opened my eyes and looked up at him, seeing his open mouth and almost hurt expression. Trying to make up for what I'd said, I started to explain myself. "I mean, it's just that most guys do. She's pretty and skinny and great at flirting and she's supposed to be amazing in bed and…" I sighed. "She's a lot better than me."

"Better than you?" Dylan breathed, bending his knees so he was the same height as me. I felt a blush rising to my cheeks and I took my lip between my lips, avoiding his eyes. "Melanie, I swear to God, you don't understand how amazing you are and it's killing me."

"I'm not amazing." I murmured as Dylan shook his head.

"No, you are. And I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else."

I looked up at him and felt a smile tug at my lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Dylan kissed me. "Now, I had something planned for tonight. You up for it?"

"Depends on what it is."

"It's a surprise."

"You and your surprises," I said, laughing. I grabbed a sweater from where I'd thrown it off when I got home and pulled it on over my head, following Dylan down the stairs. He handed me my jacket and I shrugged it on, knowing that it was bitterly cold outside because a storm was blowing in. As we plodded through the living room I saw Norman and Norma sitting on opposite sides of the couch, both of them staring at the clock that sat on the mantel. Norman looked up when we came in the room and her eyes widened.

"Where are you two going?" she asked, her voice weak.

"Out." Dylan answered, guiding me through the room so his mother wouldn't hold us up. His warm hand was pressed against the small of my back and his simple touch sent what felt like electricity through me. He took his keys from where they were hanging on the wall and flipped the collar of his coat up, sheltering his neck from the cold. I did the same and was surprised at how hard the wind was blowing when we stepped outside, and I was glad when Dylan's arm found its way around my waist and held me steady.

We trooped to his truck, neither of us talking because our words would get taken away by the harsh wind, and he opened the passenger's side door for me and closed it as soon as I was in the cab. He hopped in and started to drive, and I noticed that there was a certain excitement that oozed from him that I was unfamiliar with. I stared at him.

"Dylan?"

"Hmm?"

"Where are we going?"

"Like I said, it's a surprise."

I exhaled heavily and saw him smirk from the corner of my eye before settling back into my seat. We were getting close to town and I saw countless cars heading in the direction of the school. I watched girls in high heels and short dresses fight their way against the wind down the street, their faces pinched and their expressions showing the terror that they felt with the idea that it could start raining, which would ruin their hair and makeup. Dylan glanced over at me and saw where I was looking.

"Did you want to go to the dance?" he asked quietly. I shook my head and sighed.

"School dances are the equivalence of Hell for me, Dylan."

"Why's that?" he chuckled.

"Because everyone's just so…well, there's no one that I enjoy being around in my grade, save for Norman, but he seemed a little too stressed tonight and I don't think that I'd want to hang out with him. Besides, you're the only person that I'd consider taking as a date and you're too old to go to our dances."

Dylan nodded and took a turn that I knew led to the coast. I started to recognize our surroundings, and I grinned. Distantly, I could see a small house that sat alone near the ocean. We were going to our house. "Do you know how to dance?"

"No." I laughed and remembered the one time in sixth grade that my grandfather had tried to teach me how to do a simple slow dance and how I'd tripped over my feet like a the idiot that I was. He'd laughed and had told me that I better hope that, whenever I started going to dances, that my date knew what he was doing because I'd need good instruction. I smiled at the memory. "Do you?"

"Sort of. We took a class on ballroom dancing once in my gym class in high school."

"Why do you ask?" I questioned. Dylan grinned mischievously and I felt my pulse race.

"Just wondering."

XXX-Dylan's POV

Melanie and I were in our future house and she was standing in the middle of the living room that I'd swept a couple nights ago, a confused look on her face that I thought was actually very attractive. I hadn't answered any of her questions about what I was doing or why we were here, and I could tell that the suspense was killing her. With her arms wrapped around her, she watched me as I went over to the small radio that had been left in the house. I popped in one of my favorite CD's and waited with baited breath, hoping with all of my heart that the thing would work. There was a seventy-five percent chance that it would, and then there was a twenty-five percent chance that it wouldn't. It would be my luck that this would be the one night it decided to break.

Thankfully, the CD player worked and it started to play a slow song. I turned around to see Melanie's jaw drop and a blush appear on her cheekbones. I'd never been one for random romantic gestures, but seeing her reaction made the whole Nicholas Spark's novel scene bearable. I'd been worried that it would be awkward and I'd be too scared to actually carry out what I'd planned, but I suddenly felt very confident.

"Melanie," I said. "Can I have this dance?"

She was grinning. "You're such a romantic, Dylan. Of course I'll dance with you."

"Thank goodness." I breathed as I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her against me. She shyly put her arms around my neck and swayed in beat with me to the music that was playing. It was one of my favorite songs, and I could feel Melanie humming along with it since her chest was pressed against mine. Well, actually, since she was so short, her chest was more pressed against my stomach and her head was resting on my chest. I was sure that she could feel how hard my heart was hammering and I could feel hers, too.

"You know, I feel a little underdressed to be at a dance." Melanie said softly. I chuckled.

"Well, I guess I'll get over it. I mean, I did dress my best, but whatever…"

Melanie laughed and pulled back from me, hitting me in the chest lightly. "Oh shut up."

XXX

We danced and talked for about an hour and I was amazed at how comfortable I was with Melanie. I'd never been able to talk to a girl like I was able to talk to Melanie, and I was surprised at how relaxed she made me feel. When I was around her, I didn't worry that I was going to say something wrong or do something stupid, and I instead focused on talking to her and having a good time. I'd never been able to do that before.

I'd brought blankets in and we were now lying on the floor together, idly discussing the plotline of one of our favorite shows. I was twirling a piece of her hair around my finger and was listening to her wonder aloud what was going to happen to the villain that she liked even though everyone else that watched the show hated him, when she rolled over on her side and propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at me. She stopped talking about the villain of the show and adopted a different look. I cupped the side of her face with my hand and watched the emotions that showed in her eyes. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, which was unusual.

"What's up?" I asked. Instead of speaking, she leaned down and kissed me. It started out a gentle, sweet kiss, but it quickly turned into something much more than that. She was straddling me and I was holding her as close as possible. Before I could register what was happening, Melanie had whisked her shirt off over her head and was just in her bra and jeans. I stared at her with wide eyes only to receive a smirk before she leaned down and started to kiss me again. Her body moved fluidly against mine and I lost myself in her touch and the feel of her lips against mine.

I flipped us over and yanked my shirt off over my head, running solely off of what my body was doing and not really thinking about it. Melanie's hands immediately went to my chest, where they ran up and down in paths that made my skin erupt in goose bumps. Her nimble fingers made their way down to my belt, and I pulled my lips away from hers for a moment to regain my head. "Melanie?" I asked, breathing hard. "What're you doing?"

"I think it's pretty obvious," she said, starting to unbutton my jeans. Even though it almost pained me, I placed a hand over both of hers and halted her process.

"You…are you sure you want to do this?" I didn't want her to do something that she'd regret even if I wanted it more than anything I'd ever wanted in my life. If she woke up in the morning and thought that she'd done the wrong thing by sleeping with me, I didn't think I'd be able to forgive myself. I didn't want her to feel pressured into it, either. If she wanted to take this giant step in our relationship, then I wanted her to be positive that it was what she wanted, and not something that she thought she needed to do so I'd stay with her. There were so many thoughts running through my head that I felt myself start to get dizzy, but my entire mind went blank when Melanie kissed me again.

Against my lips, she murmured "Yes."

We fell back against the blankets on the floor that we were lying on and both of us kicked out of our jeans. When we were both completely undressed I had broken our kiss and had stared at Melanie for a moment, feeling the quick rise and fall of her chest against mine. She didn't look unsure or scared; she was ablaze with energy, and I could feel that energy seeping into me. She really was ready, and I had been since I first kissed her.

I leaned down and kissed her again, hoping that her first time wouldn't be too painful.

A/N: THEY FINALLY HAD SEX (made love whatever)! YES! Believe me, I hated keeping them from doing it for so long just like the people who said it was killing them, and I'm very happy that I got to write this even though I'm not sure if I did too great of a job. So, please review and tell me what you thought because scenes like the one above definitely aren't my strong suit and I'd love any feedback I can get! And don't worry, this isn't the last chapter for season one even though this did take place the same night and time that the season ended. There will be one or two more chapters to come!

Once again, please review and tell me your thoughts! Thanks! xx