Thirty-seven

The next day Dylan and I stayed at the house almost the entire day. The house had running water, so we would've been able to take showers, but we didn't have any towels, so instead we dressed ourselves and stayed together, talking. I was somewhat sore (which I had been warned would happen by a senior that had been in my sex-ed class when I was a freshman), but other than that I was practically euphoric. Our first time together hadn't been crazy or porn worthy—it was slow and gentle and Dylan had guided me through the entire thing. There wasn't any screaming or crazy positions, it had just been us together, moving as one, and a sweet silence, other than the soft songs that played from the CD player and the occasional moaned I love you. It had been the longest that we'd ever been together without really talking, but I'd never felt so connected with someone in my life.

"Do you want to go get some coffee?" Dylan asked me as he came out from the kitchen. His hair was messed up from where I'd pulled at it and his clothes were rumbled, but he looked bright. "There's literally nothing here and I'm starved."

I felt my stomach rumble and I nodded from where I was sitting on the couch, standing up. "There's a little place downtown that's got coffee and breakfast stuff. It's really good."

"Do you go there often?" Dylan asked as he held my jacket up and helped me put it on. I shook my head and flicked the collar of my jacket down, also smoothing Dylan's down since he was too stubborn to do it himself. He grinned at me and leaned down to kiss me, placing his hand on the back of my head to press my lips against his more firmly. I smiled and held on to the front of his jacket, standing on my tip-toes so he wouldn't have to stoop so much.

We stood together for a long time kissing, and Dylan's hands stayed politely on my hips since he knew that I was still recovering from losing my virginity. I almost laughed at the thought that I was no longer a virgin; I'd always thought that I'd die one. "I love you." I said.

"I love you, too." He murmured in a voice that made me weak in the knees. "I love you more than anything else in the world."

XXX

We were in the coffee shop together and were sitting on opposite sides of a tiny table that was hidden in a corner of the little café, both of us holding mugs of hot coffee. Dylan's hand was covering mine and we were laughing at some of the young kids that were in the shop with us because they were all very loud and had ordered the most difficult things that they could come up with just to seem cool. Dylan's thumb ran across my knuckles and sent a shiver down my spine, causing me to smile.

While we were snickering about a fourteen-year-old girl that had come into the coffee shop with some other freshman and had ordered something so complicated that the woman making her drink had told her to change the order, a flash of dirty blonde hair caught my eye, and I felt my stomach drop. With her huge sunglasses pulled over her eyes and her tiny frame clad in a cute dress with a black leather jacket over it, Bradley walked into the café and walked up to the counter with a certain gait that I hadn't seen her walk with before. I was almost positive that she'd seen Dylan and me when she walked in, but she hadn't glanced over at us since she stepped through the door.

I stared down at my coffee and felt Dylan's hand tighten around mine. "You alright?"

Before I could answer I caught sight of Bradley turning towards us and feigning surprise. Her voice rang out and she grabbed the to-go cup that was being handed to her by the woman that made the coffee as she walked towards us. "Dylan! Melanie! Hey,"

"Oh, hey Bradley," Dylan said, looking over his shoulder at her. I bit the inside of my lip and tried to smile at her.

"What's up?" Bradley looked at me for a fleeting second before turning her full attention to Dylan. I felt my jealously rise again.

"Uh, nothing really." Dylan said, glancing over me. I tried not to look like I was as uncomfortable as I was, but it was evident on my face.

"Melanie," Bradley turned her gaze to me and I felt like I was something she was going to prey on. "I didn't see you at the dance last night. How come you didn't come?"

Because I was having sex with Dylan, the guy that you want to bang more than your own boyfriend. "I never go to dances, Bradley."

"Oh, right, I forgot. Well, do you know if Norman's okay? I can't believe what Richard did to him."

I tensed and sat up straighter in my seat, forgetting that my coffee was dangerously close to my elbow and could be knocked over and spill at any moment. "What happened to Norman?"

"You didn't hear?" Bradley's lips formed a half-pout, but I couldn't even bring myself to loath her for being so stupid and pulling faces so that she could try and get Dylan to lust after her or whatever she wanted. I just needed to know what happened to Norman. "I don't know what happened, but Richard punched Norman at the dance."

"What?!" Dylan and I exclaimed at the same time. Everyone in the shop got quiet and stared at us, but we were too intent on looking at Bradley. She nodded, her eyes wide at our reaction.

"Yeah, Richard said he took him outside and knocked him out. I don't know why, though."

I stood up and Dylan did too, both of us abandoning our coffee cups and the muffin that we hadn't finished eating. Dylan was obviously worried, but I knew that he wasn't as terrified as I was. Norman had been punched by Dylan before, but Richard probably had wanted to hurt him more than his brother had wanted to. Norman was fragile and he'd been punched at the dance by a guy that was way more muscular than he was and had been left outside in the freezing cold and rain, probably bleeding, with no one to help him. I didn't think that I'd gotten a call from anyone, but I couldn't be sure because my phone had died when Dylan and I had been at the house last night.

"We've got to go see if he's alright." I said to Dylan. He nodded and immediately took my hand, not seeing the burning look that Bradley shot us, and led me outside to his truck. We both got in and Dylan started to drive, going faster than he usually did because he was able to see how stressed I was. I tried in vain to turn on my phone, but the screen blinked a few times feebly before shutting off again. "Is your phone working?"

"It died last night." He said, glancing around him before he started speeding. We were nearing the edge of town and I once again tried to turn my phone on. The screen wouldn't even light up. I groaned and hit the phone against my leg. Why was I so worried about Norman? The kid had pissed me off to no end last night, yet here I was interrupting a great morning-after-sex date with Dylan to make sure that he hadn't gotten his skull bashed in by Bradley's boyfriend. I guessed it was the sisterly instinct that I hadn't gotten to use when my own brother was around. I stared out of the window.

Dammit Norman. I thought bitterly. Why're you making me care this much?

We rolled up to the front of the motel and Dylan parked. We both quickly walked up to the house and I felt my palms start to sweat, wondering if I was going to see Norman with a face so busted up that it was unrecognizable. Dylan opened the door and I burst inside, letting out a breath when I saw Norman's dark head of hair above the cushions of the couch. Well, at least he was well enough to sit up.

"Norman," I said, striding over to him. "Are you alright?"

He turned when I got to him and I let out an involuntary ugh in disgust. I was used to seeing people pretty banged up, but Norman's eye was so swollen that he couldn't even see out of it, and there was a cut running along his eyebrow that had yellow pus slowly oozing from it. The skin around his eye was purple and blue and was pulled tight from the swelling. With a grimace that he'd tried to make a grin, Norman nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He turned around and saw Dylan standing at the door. "Where were you two last night?"

"Out." Dylan answered, coming over to stand beside me. "What happened to you?"

Norman sighed and fell back against the cushions of the couch. "Bradley's boyfriend punched me and Emma left me at the dance, so I had to walk home."

"Jesus Norman, have you iced your eye at all?" I asked, lightly turning his face with my hand. Norman winced and I withdrew my touch.

"No. I didn't think about it. Mother's still upstairs and she's been asleep most of the day and I just haven't thought about it."

"Well hold on, let me get you some ice." I stood up from where I'd been sitting on the coffee table and went into the kitchen. I heard Dylan say something to Norman but I couldn't make out the words, and I suddenly felt very bad. Even though I felt like Norman was a brother, I may have overreacted when I heard about what had happened to him. But, ever since my brother and my mom had left town, I'd wanted to help anyone that cared about me so that they'd think twice about leaving me. Hopefully Dylan would understand my motive without me having to say it. I went back into the living room and took my seat on the coffee table again, handing Norman the ice that I'd brought. Dylan was leaning against the arm of the couch, but he came and took a spot next to me, one hand going to rest automatically on my knee.

Norman pressed the ice to his eye and let out a sharp gust of air from between his lips, dropping back against the couch in relief. Dylan stared at his little brother, obviously upset that he hadn't been able to do anything about him getting hit. I could tell that he loved Norman even if he tried to deny it by acting indifferent. I put my hand over his and leaned against him, putting my head on his shoulder. I felt his body relax.

"Why'd this guy hit you?" Dylan asked. Norman sighed.

"Because I was staring at Bradley."

"It seems like something bad always happens because of her." I muttered. Dylan chuckled and squeezed my knee lightly, silently telling me to play nicely. I rolled my eyes and fought a grin, deciding to shut my mouth for once. Just as Norman was about to say something, his phone started ringing from where it was sitting next to my hip. I handed it to him after discreetly looking at the contact, and decided that maybe one more comment couldn't hurt. "If you were staring at Bradley last night, I say it's only right to apologize to your actual date."

Norman paled considerably when I handed him the phone and he saw that Emma was calling him. Dylan and I turned away enough so it wouldn't seem like we were snooping (though we obviously were) and we listened to him speak while staring at each other, fighting the grins that were trying to surface on our faces.

"Hey Emma. Wait, what? Slow down, I can't understand what you're saying…wait, what? Say that again." I looked over at Norman when I heard how panicked he sounded and furrowed my brow. He listened to what Emma was saying, his hand tight on his phone and the muscles of his arms, which were visible because of his t-shirt, tense. His light eyes widened and his face lost the color that it had started to regain. His jaw dropped and he flicked his gaze to mine, locking me in place. Something was wrong.

"Norman," I leaned forward and felt Dylan do the same. "What happened?"

With a shaking hand, Norman removed his phone from his ear and kept it in his limp hand, still on call with Emma. Barely loud enough for me to hear, he breathed "Ms. Watson's dead. Someone slit her throat last night."

I felt my head go light and I looked over at Dylan, shocked at how pale he was. We stared at each other for a moment, both of our expressions showing our disbelief, before I realized that I wasn't breathing. I gasped for air and leaned over my legs, staring at the floor and trying to regain my head. Ms. Watson's throat had been slashed? No, no, no, that couldn't be true. When I looked up at Norman, I saw he was crying. Tears pricked the back of my eyelids and I wiped them away before they could fall. I couldn't wrap my head around it. Ms. Watson was dead. Like I'd said before, something always happened the night of the dance, but this hadn't been what I had expected.

Somewhere, there was a murderer on the loose in White Pine Bay.

A/N: My lovely readers, this is farewell until season two of Bates Motel starts. It hurts me to think that I won't be able to write on this story for a while until the show comes back on because it's the longest thing that I've ever written and I've gotten some amazing feedback that I will hate not getting every time I post a new chapter, but I don't think that I can write any more on the season finale. So, I will just have to wait for season two's premier! For me, that date can't come fast enough; I'm already missing tuning in every Monday night. Eve though this story is going to be on break for a while, please don't forget about it! Once I start writing on this again, I hope to have all of you reading and reviewing like you've done so far, because it makes my day and makes me so happy as an author to get so many people giving me feedback!

Now, as every other author, I'm going to use this opportunity to self-promote (I know, I know, please don't kill me). I'm writing a story on Fiction Press, and it would mean so much to me if you went and read it and gave me your opinions on it! It will be updated frequently in my time away from this story, and I would love for you all to go and read it! It's titled Case 356 Aphrodite's Curse, and, since I'm unable to leave a link that would make it easier to navigate to, you can find the story by going on Fiction Press and typing in the title or my username (thefaultinmypen) in the search bar, and it should show up then. Again, it would mean a lot to me if you went and checked it out and left a review or favorited or followed it! Okay, self-promo session over!

Once again, thank you all so much for sticking with this story so far, and I hope that you'll continue reading when I start writing from season two! Thanks! xxxx