Dizzy

Chapter 17

~ Dylan ~

It's been more than a week since I kissed Ziah, and I haven't heard jack from her the whole time. Oh, wait. Unless you count hanging out at her mom's restaurant where she ignored me and flirted with Paul. Which I don't care about. Seriously. I don't.

Why the hell she would want to flirt with Paul anyway is beyond me. I mean, he's my best friend and all, but he's not her type. He would drive her crazy, and she's definitely not the kind of girl he usually goes for. Although she looked damn hot. Was she showing off her shoulder on purpose, knowing I've thought about kissing her collarbone more than once?

Okay, so maybe I care a little, but that's just because it's not cool. Kiss me, flirt with Paul—even if he was the one doing most of the flirting.

Does she not know how hard it was for me to pull the plug on what we were doing? How much I wanted to touch her everywhere? How kissing her felt different than kissing any other girl, but I put a stop to things because I know it's not what's best for her. Or me.

I'm thinking I deserve a medal or something. I would have rather got run over by Mary than step away, but I did. Because I knew it was the smart thing.

Which means it's definitely a good thing I stopped. I enjoyed it way too much. I started to like her, and that freaks me out. Not a manly thing to admit, I know, but I can't imagine being broken the way Dad was. The way he is.

I can't stop thinking about how bad he lost it, and as cool as Lora is, there's a part of me who thinks she'll do the same thing to Derrick. What if he wakes up one day, and she's gone, leaving him feeling just as abandoned as Dad did—as I do.

No, thank you. I don't get why people set themselves up to risk that kind of disappointment.

The couch shifts when Paul bounces one cushion away from me. I'd totally forgot he was coming over. "You know I don't really like your girl, right? I'm just giving you shit."

My head whips around so I'm looking at him. "Ziah's not my girl."

Paul shakes his head, suddenly all mature and all knowing. "You've been weird. You okay?"

The thing is, I'm not okay, but nothing happened either. Actually, that's a lie. For the first time in my life, I kissed a girl I liked then made myself stop. Now I'm all screwed up about it. You know... just something tiny like that.

Paul's sitting next to me more serious than he usually is. He's waiting and quiet, which are two things he's usually not.

I lean back into the couch. I can't believe I'm going to do this, but I think I am. I have to talk to someone, and it's not like I can go to Derrick. He'll just warn me away from her, which is what I'm supposed to want.

"Have you ever been with a girl, and it was... different than it usually is?"

Paul's eyebrows rise. "We both know who you're talking about, man. Why don't we just say Ziah? And what do you mean, different?"

I ignore his comment about her name.

"I don't know. Just... different." As in I like her. This sucks. Like hugely. "And then it ended, and even though I'm the one who put the stop to it, I was mad it was over."

I can't even remember if I told him what it was.

"Okay, let me get this straight. You kissed Ziah—because I know you did that night. Freaked out and hit the breaks, but you really didn't want to. You're even more freaked out because you like her and don't know what to do about it? I guess it pissed you off that I flirted with her, too, which I did on purpose, by the way, because I could tell something was up. Now you're trippin' out because you realize how much you really like her, and you don't want to?"