Hold me [ Dylan Sprayberry Fanfic ]

Chapter 8

Bridget's POV
"5 days until the dance, 5 days until the dance." Crystal skipped ahead of me, towards her house. I rolled my eyes, adjusting the strap of my backpack. A long day at school was finally over, I officially announced Monday over when school ended. She stuck the key into the lock and skipped through her house too, into the kitchen. Crystal twirled into the counter top, knocking over a stack of papers.
"Shit." She mumbled bending down quickly to pick them up. I put down my backpack and bent down to help her.
'I'm assuming Daniel said yes?" I said straightening up and handing her the papers I collected.
"Yeah!" Crystal put her hands above her head, initiating a strange dance.
"I told you he liked you." I replied, happy for her. Crystal squealed at the word 'like', and began twirling around again.

A man entered, along with a younger guy behind him. The man had broad shoulders and brown eyes like Crystal, his roundish features made him seem cheery and bright.
"Dancing again, I see." He boomed, his voice was alarmingly deep and made my insides rattle. Crystal froze and spun around,
"Oh, hey dad." She beamed, crossing her arms casually.
The guy behind him looked like has in his early 20's, he had black hair--dark brown eyes, and a mysterious look about him, like his eyes said 'Yeah, I stole your car and you can't do anything about it.' He looked nothing like Dylan. The only thing was similar was that they both had tattoos but this guy had a lot more tattoos than Dylan, his whole left arm was covered from forearm to shoulder.
"This is my friend--you know, the one I told you about." Crystal grabbed my shoulders, pushing me in his direction. "Bridget,isn't it? I'm Gale. Gale Reed." He stuck out a huge calloused hand, and I fit my hand into his, shaking it briefly. I nodded,
"You can call me Bridge or just Isabella...I don't mind." I stuttered, clasping my hand in front of me, my shoulders tense. Mr. Reed let out an equally booming laugh, amused probably.

I looked at Crystal then I turned back to Mr. Reed, when the black haired guy behind him glided over to me. He wrapped an arm around me immediately, overflowing my nasal cavity with man-spray.
"So you're Dylan's girlfriend, right? The Bridget Holt, that i've heard so much about." His voice was naturally low and raspy, like he'd just gotten out of bed.
"I'm...not his girlfriend." I mumbled, slipping out of his grasp, but he reached out again grabbing my hand this time. He really had no sense of personal space.
"That's Tyler--Dylan's older brother." Crystal pointed out, as he leaned sickly close to me. Tyler--I've heard that name before. Holland had mentioned him to me once, apparently--he was bad news.
"I didn't know he had an older brother," I lied, looking Crystal's direction. She shrugged, and went back to inspecting her purple nails
"Cause i'm the fuck up of this family," Tyler chuckled.
"I also go by He-who-shall-not-be-named."
"Oh. Nice to meet you." I greeted uneasily, steering away from him again. Tyler just smiled and crossed his arms over his chest, wearing one of those sleeveless cut-off band t-shirts. Mr. Reed just rolled his eyes at Tyler's satisfied expression, and rummaged around the cupboards noisily.

Tyler sat down next to me, as Crystal and I settled around the table. He put his elbows on the table and propped up his head, staring at me.
"So," I cleared my throat.
"Where's Dylan?"
"I think he's--" Crystal began, glancing up at me.
"Hiding somewhere, from me, probably. He hates me." Tyler interrupted, his expression blissfully proud of his status as the loathsome older brother. I scrunched my eyebrows.
"Dylan always runs off when i'm around..." Tyler sighed.
"You two don't get along?" I asked curiously, looking into his brown eyes. He smirked,
"No--which makes your existence even better."
"Don't listen to him, he doesn't know what he's talking about." Crystal assured me.
"None of us listen to him." Mr. Reed noted from inside the walk-in pantry. Tyler winked at me, grabbing a strand of my hair and tugging on the end of it. "I've always liked Black's." Okay, I was becoming extremely uncomfortable now. I disliked people who acted so familiar with me, no--maybe it was because I hated when strangers touched me, either way he was freaking me out. The way Tyler leaned towards me the entire study-date, his brown eyes locked on me--a smirk always tugging at the corner of his lips if it wasn't his fingers tugging my hair; it seemed like he knew everything about me. Which, of course he didn't--we'd only just met.