I’ve lived in Brookfield all my life. So have my parents and their parents, too. I didn’t meet Dylan Ross until halfway through sixth grade. She found me eating alone one day and flat-out told me she felt sorry for me. It took me two months to say something to her, but once I did she never shut up. With her came other friends, but Dylan dubbed me her best one that year. The ironic thing is that her friends have known me for years, but we’ve never hung out. I’m on the wrong side of Brookfield. There is a small group of us that hang out, but most of the guys play sports and I don’t fit in, mostly due to my social status. I would like to play some sport, maybe football or basketball, but I have to work and there is no way my dad would ever agree to pay for something like basketball shoes. I don’t fit in, never have.
Most of the guys we hang out with like Dylan and want to date her. A few of them have asked how many times I’ve been with her and think I’m bullshitting them when I tell them we are strictly friends. I’ve never looked at her that way. Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful and any guy will be lucky when she finally looks in his direction. But it’s hard for me to see Dylan as more than a friend. Even if we did date, what would happen if things didn’t work out? Besides, I wouldn’t stand a chance with her. I’m her go-to guy when she’s having problems.
I tap Dylan on the foot when I’m back in the room. She pretends to ignore me, likely waiting for her current song to finish. I sit on the edge of the bed and wait for her. I know this game – I’ve become the master. There is no interrupting Dylan and her love for music.
She sits up, her eyes gleaming. I know this look – she’s up to something. She pulls out her ear buds. “Guess what I won?” she asks. I’m never going to guess so I shrug. Dylan wins everything even though her parents give her anything she wants.
“Aren’t you going to guess?”
“No, you’re going to tell me anyway,” I reply. I scoot back on my bed, crossing my ankles. Dylan moves closer, matching the way I’m sitting. Her long, tan legs are pressed against mine and I don’t like it; it’s too hot to be touching anyone. I shift slightly, only for her to put her hand on my leg.
“I won tickets to the Hadley Carter concert and not just any tickets, but backstage passes and a meet and greet.”
“Cool, but who is Hadley Carter?” Dylan knows I’m not up-to-date on the music scene. I don’t have a fancy music player like she does or even a computer where I know she gets most of her music. Sure we listen to music in her car, but I try not to get attached to something I can’t have. It’s the devil’s music, or so my mom says. Unless the band is on public access television, it’s not allowed.
Dylan turns her body so she’s facing me. I can tell that she’s excited about these tickets she’s won. “Hadley is like the biggest music star out there right now and she’s coming to town. Well not here, but to Jackson and I’ve got us tickets!”
“Us?”
“Of course us! Who else would I want to go with?”
“I don’t know, D, Rachel, Sarah, or Jill. I’m sure they’d all want to go with you. I don’t. Hell, even the new guy that moved here last week. I saw him watching you the other day when you were at Stan’s. I think he drooled on his burger when you bent over.” Dylan hits me in the arm. I act like it hurt, but it didn’t. She’s too tiny to cause much damage. “Come on, I don’t know any of this singer’s music. I’ll be bored.”
Dylan sticks out her bottom lip and bats her eyes slowly. “Please, Ryan. It'll be a great night and I want to spend it with you. You’re my best friend and this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. You’re the one I want to share it with.”
When she gets like this I can’t say no. Even if I tried, she’d find a way to make me feel guilty and remind me of something she did for me or tell her I owe her a favor and that she’s collecting now. I’m in a no-win situation with her and I know it.
“When’s the show?” I ask while rolling my eyes. She knows it’s pretend and that I’d do anything for her.
Her face lights up and she starts clapping. I can’t help it. I smile too and look away from her so she doesn’t see it.
“The show’s tonight, but don’t worry. I stopped by your mom’s office and asked her if you could go and she’s okay with me driving us to Jackson.”
Dylan is like the daughter my mother always wanted and never had so I’m not surprised she said I could go. Had it been anyone else she would’ve made me ask my dad and that is usually an automatic no.
I look at my alarm clock and cringe. My dad will be home in twenty-minutes; my mom not for another hour. I don’t have any money for dinner if I go to the concert.
“I haven’t gotten paid yet, D. I don’t have any money.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I got it. You can pay me back later.” She says this too eagerly. I owe her a million dollars already.
“We should go before my dad gets home. Is what I’m wearing okay?”
Dylan jumps off my bed, heads to my closet and pulls out one of my Sunday church shirts. Fear creeps up my spine – if I ruin it, I’m in trouble. She hands it to me with a huge smile on her face. Sometimes I wish she knew exactly how things were in my house. No, I take that back, I wish I had the carefree attitude and the ability to do whatever I wanted that she has. I wish that my check went to me and not my parents. Most of all, I wish my life was different.
CHAPTER 2
Hadley