My Cliche Love Story | ✓

Chapter 14

"Jake, you cheated!"

My brother grins, shaking his head. "No, Alex, I won fair and square."

I roll my eyes, trying to hide my giggles. I love these days, when I can just sit back, after a long day at school, and play cards with my brother. It reminds me of the simpler times. You know, the days that I wouldn't have to worry about an encounter with the infuriatingly cliche bad boy that is my neighbor. Like, seriously, can't he just ignore me? Why can't he find someone else to entertain him?

In more ways than one, that's the case now, with Katie in the picture. She's so...mysterious, and Dylan clearly knows her from somewhere, so it's not like she just walked into our lives and plans to stay here, she had some kind of setup, some psycho plan.

Jake puts down his cards and starts cleaning up the game. "Come on, we've got to start our homework."

I stare at him. "You never want to do your homework."

He flashes a shaky smile. "Yeah, well, there's this big test tomorrow, and I think it's a good idea to do my homework anyway, and--"

Slapping him playfully on the arm, I shake my head. "Alright, spill. What's going on?"

He almost looks offended, and he scrambles for an answer. "Nothing," he replies, just a little too quickly. "Absolutely nothing."

If he wants to tell me, he will. 

Eventually. 

Knowing this, I nod. "Yeah, whatever. I'll be upstairs."

My room is clean, as usual, and when I peek through the curtains, Dylan's in his room, sitting on his bed, notebooks and textbooks spread across the sheets. No way, he's never doing his homework. Maybe it's the end of the world, and boys are finally being productive. That'd be a good plot twist to this cliche story, wouldn't it?

The bad boy's eyes flick over to my room, and catches me looking at him.

Crap, I stood here too long. 

His lips curl into a small, genuine smile, and then he turns, reaching for something. The lip of his shirt rises above his waist, revealing his tanned side underneath. Why can't an actually decent person be as fit as him? Why does the world work this way? Maybe it should end, so we can all have a fresh start.

I'd like that.

Of course, he doesn't deserve it. Not him, not the creep that changed my life.

"Hey, Baker! You look lonely, wanna come over?" Dylan's window is open, and his hands rest on the windowsill, while those frustrating muscles bulge in his t-shirt. 

I smile. Yes, he's a jerk, and yeah, I still want to get back at him, but sometimes, it's nice to have someone talking to me all the time. It's nice to have this kind of attention.

My window slides open easily. I lean out, contemplating the idea, teasing him. "Hmm," I sigh, "do I want to come over? Well, no, but do I have anything else to do? That's a no." I grin, turning to meet his eyes. "So scoot over, Dylan Carter, I'm coming through."

"I love it when you call me by my full name," he mumbles, thinking that I didn't hear it. Well, there's the dirt that I could have gotten at that party, it just had to come later. Oh, whatever, I'll use that to my advantage later in the game. 

I don't blink, don't come back with a snarky remark(even though I want to), I just jump my way to the room across from mine, and accept the help he give me by pulling me all the way in. 

"Thanks," I breathe, straightening my shirt.

Dylan's already turned around, and holds out a bag of Skittles. "Want one?" His smile is so genuine, so much like a little boy's, so innocent, that I throw my head back and laugh.

"What?" He says, and when I look at him, he's trying to hold in the sounds of laughter, as well. Oh, Dylan, how'd you become this funny and childish? Why didn't he just act like this before? Then we'd have probably become friends sooner.

Oops.

Is there a 'delete' button on these things?

Nope, apparently not. You can't take back your words, I guess.

I'm stupid. 

We are not friends. 

As an attempt to shake the previous thoughts from my mind, I pick out a single Skittle, which turns out to be my favorite, a red one, and pop it in my mouth. Dylan's eyes glint at me as he takes one, a blue, and presses it in between his teeth with care.

Chewing, he smirks. "You've got red, I've got blue, wanna make purple?" He starts making kissy sounds at me, acting like a total immature teenage boy, and I squirm away, laughing.

"Where'd you get that one, on Google, or something?" I end up running away from him and landing on the other side of his room, away from my escape window. Oh well, I'm trapped with the bad boy. Isn't this romantic? 

Barf.

He shakes his head, still smirking. "Read it somewhere."

I stare at him. "You read?"

Now my neighbor looks embarrassed. "Um, yeah, it's not a crime."

"No, I know, it's just, you're the bad boy, the one with the cliche image, the perfect life, and, may I add, the one that's not supposed to read. Or be smart, for that matter."

Dylan just brushes it off. "Well, this isn't every cliche story, is it?"

Yes, it really is. 

He steps closer to me, with small steps. "So, what do you say, Alex, wanna make purple?" he asks again, that smirk on his lips.

Trying to keep in the control of the situation, I sigh, putting my hands on my hips. "Mm, no."

He looks startled. "What?"

"No. N-O." I look him square in the eye and shake my head. "No thanks, I'm good."

"I know what the word means, I'm not stupid," he says, slumping his shoulders and rolling his eyes. 

"Oh, of course not, you know everything, Dylan," I say with wide eyes, a hand slapped to my chest.

Dylan nods, as if he totally understands. "Yes, I do. In fact, I know exactly what you're going to do now." He's only inches from my face. How did he move that fast?

Calm down, Alex, you've got this. 

"Well, I'm sure that you wouldn't be surprised, then, if I did this." I lean closer, and kiss him, half lips, half cheek, completely catching him off-guard. 

He didn't expect that at all. It worked! I'm able to squeeze out of his grasp, and, laughing, I skip away. "See you later, Dylan!"

"Oh, uh, yeah. See you later?" He's feeling the place where I kissed him, and honestly, it's the funniest thing I've ever seen him do. This tops all the dumb things he's done, in all of his eighteen years. This is the best.

Now he's recomposed himself. "Ah, it's just amazing to have such a great friend like you, Alex Baker," he smirks.

I'm quick to respond. "And the same goes for you, Dylan Carter." I blow a fake kiss to him, overdoing this whole 'goodbye' thing.

Oh well, maybe we are friends.

But I didn't say it was a good thing.

12/30/2015