05. Chapter Three

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DYLAN'S POV

'Have you ever wondered which hurts the most: saying something and wishing you hadn't, or saying nothing and wishing you had?'

I gulped as I opened the passenger's door to her car, tapping my feet. Claire sat in the back seat, along with her brother, James and apparently grandmother, who was still half-asleep.
Sophia tightened her grip around the wheel, snapping her head towards me. She looked so angry.
I was pleasantly surprised I hadn't noticed her before. She was actually really pretty.
Not amazingly hot, but pretty.
"Are you still mad?" I muttered, meeting her eyes. She cocked her eyebrows,
"At what part? That you insulted me, or- oh, wait. That's right. You insulted me." She hissed.
The entire car ride was uncomforting silence.
I knew what I'd really said to her was wrong, but I couldn't apologise. I didn't know why. I just couldn't puck up any courage to do so.
"I didn't mean it. I'm just tired and I'm hung over. I mean- that's not an excuse, but still." She ignored me completely, staring straight ahead at the road. I took a deep breath and finally blurted out,
"I'm sorry, okay!? You helped me and I acted like a complete di-" I glanced back at Claire, sighing.
"A complete idiot, and I'm sorry, okay? That comes from deep in my heart. I swear." She looked at me and a small smile crossed her face, before she revealed her very white teeth.
"That's all I needed to hear." She replied. I released a heavy sigh and climbed out of the car, closing the door behind me. I was about to walk away, but something stopped me. I turned around, knocking on the window. She looked at me and smiled once again, reaching over and winding down the window.
Because it was such an old car, there were no electric windows.
"Yes?" She said.
"Do you have a home number?" I asked her, raising my brows.
There was definitely something about Sophia-Grace that made me want to just...get to know her.
I was usually surrounded by irresponsible kids who had no idea where they were going in life - but Sophia really seemed to have everything in order.
She was a lot more mature than anybody else that I knew.
"I do, but I'm not giving it to you." She grinned. I pouted, leaning my arms over the door.
"Why not?"
"Because you're an Outsider," Claire chimed in happily. I looked back at her, raising my eyebrows.
"What's an Outsider, Claire?" I asked her.
"You don't have a religion. It's what our church calls you guys'. Outsiders. We aren't actually supposed to mingle with you - but I won't tell and James won't either," Claire smiled.
"He doesn't talk anyway." I glanced at her brother who was staring down at his legs, with rather sad eyes. I sighed, looking back at Claire.
"Well, thank you." I replied, before looking back at Sophia.
"So, do I have to pass out on your lawn again or something?" I said sarcastically. Sophia laughed, looking away for a split second.
"No. You can't see me outside of school."
She was quite a puzzle.
"Then how can I keep in contact with you?" She pursed her lips, probably gnawing on the inside of her mouth, eyes searching around the place. Then, she leaned over to the glove box on the passenger's side, pulling it open and feeling inside.
"Give me your number. I'll...figure out a way to call you. Okay?" She offered, handing me the pen. I smiled and nodded, just as she extended her hand to me. I took hold of it gently, writing all the digits to my number on her soft skin.
"You better," I said drily, letting go of her and handing back the pen, pulling my body back.
"Bye Claire, bye James." I said, waving to them. Claire enthusiastically thrashed around her hand, waving goodbye. James weakly threw up his hand, not even looking up. I sighed, turning around and walking up the small hill to my door. I heard Sophia drive off in her not-so-fancy car, and smiled to myself.
I actually liked this girl.
I wasn't attracted to her, but I did like her.
As soon as I opened the door, I saw my little sister on the couch, watching SpongeBob. Her eyes met mine and she squealed in happiness and pounced off the couch, sprinting towards me. She leapt off the ground and I caught her, pulling her into me.
"Hey, Carly!" I greeted her, holding her to my side.
Carly was six.
There were so many aspects to Claire that reminded me of Carly - so it was beyond easy getting along with her.
If I was honest, for once in my life, I wasn't actually sure if she was going to call me.
I even admit that I treated her horribly - especially after she took me in momentarily. It was pretty shitty of me.
I don't know why I do it.
Why I act like such a dick to so many people. I can't help it.
I get angry so easily and I'm one of those speak-before-thinking kinds of people.
Sophia isn't.
It's clear.
I could tell she wanted to say so much more to me when we were on the couch, but she didn't and I respect her. I respect her a lot.
It's not like I meant to offend her anyway. It sounded like I did, but I honestly didn't. I just hope she understands that.
Carly squeezed my shoulder, running a hand through my messy black hair.
"You need a shower," She said with a grimace, blowing on my face for no reason whatsoever.
"Do I?" I replied.
"Yes. Your hair is icky and you look like...a big bag of poop." She grinned. I rolled my eyes and set her down on her feet as gently as I could, looking around.
"Okay," I replied, trailing off.
"Where's mum?" I asked, looking down at my little sister.
"In the kitchen with a policeman." She replied way too cheerfully. My mouth gaped and I slowly nodded,
"Okay. I'll go see what's up then, aye?" She nodded as I walked by, practically on my toes.
Despite the fact most of my lounge room - all the way to the dining room and kitchen - was carpet, I didn't want to make a noise. I peeked past the wall, seeing, indeed, my mother and an older man. Probably fifty or so. He had dark brown hair and tanned, wrinkly skin. His hat was tilted over his head - driving my OCD crazy.
I stepped in a little farther, bumping into the wall in the process. I released a little groan, watching as the two heads snapped towards me.
"Uh- hi!" I said, stepping inside.
"Dylan..." My mother murmured, looking down. She pushed back her black hair, as if she was stressed out. The wrinkles in her forehead were more obvious today too.
She looked tired.
"You're lucky you returned in the time range of 48 hours, kid," The officer said sternly.
"Your mother was worried."
"Why didn't you call?" She said frantically, throwing her arms up. I ran my tongue across my bottom lip,
"My phone died. It's okay. I stayed with a friend."
"They don't have a phone?"
I stifled a laugh, thinking of Sophia, before rubbing my nose and shrugging.
"Nah." I said numbly.
"What happened that made ya' crash at a mates place?" The officer asked, looking me up and down.
Prick.
"Well, we'd been planning a movie night for ages, so I went and fell asleep there unintentionally." I lied, not wanting to get caught up in any 'under aged drinking' mess.
"So, you weren't at that party we just happened to break up last night?" I pursed my lips, looking off into the distance, as if I was thinking, before shaking my head.
"Nope. Didn't even hear about it."
"The entire city knew."
"I guess I missed it." I mumbled, shrugging my shoulders and approaching the fridge, pulling out a bottle of breakfast juice.
"Really?" The officer said, clearly suspicious of me. I took down a glass, filling it with juice and turning to face him.
Fuckhead.
"Yep. I'm not really a party person anyway. Doesn't interest me at all."
Over the years, I'd gotten really talented for lying. Mainly because when I was a kid, I always lied about taking the cookie out of the cookie jar.
Maybe not that.
But something like that.
The officer muttered some things to my mum before getting up, saying bye to me, and then leaving. My mum shot up from her chair,
"I don't go to parties!? Dylan, are you kidding?" She snapped, flailing her arms.
"You're welcome." I replied with a smug grin.
"I don't understand you, Dylan. Whenever you come home on a Saturday or Sunday you're hungover and sick and tired. You look horrible! I just-" I cut her off by placing down my glass, approaching her and wrapping my arms around her.
"I know," I whispered, cradling her head as she tucked her face away in my shoulder.
I was taller than her by a mile.
"I'll stop. I promise. I know I should be coming home totally okay and I'll stop it if you really want me to...besides...I met a girl." She pulled away from me, still holding my shirt in her balled fist.
"A girl?" She said, nearly excitedly. I smiled, nodding.
"Yeah. A girl." My mother backed away from me, pushing her hair back.
"What's her name?"
"Sophia-Grace."

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