What's The Plan?

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TWO WEEKS LATER

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TWO WEEKS LATER

★ ★ ★

Dylan parked about three houses away from the one he had originally intended on parking in front of. He threw the car into park and grabbed his keys from the ignition before throwing the door open and hopping out. He trekked angrily down the sidewalk, ignoring the very dull ache that still lingered around the base of his neck. All he could think about was Marlena and her new "boyfriend" and the way he had so wrongly abused him two Sundays ago at the mall. He was more than angry with the man and even angrier over the fact that Marlena actually seemed to have a man in the first place. In his mind, Marlena Claire was his and only his; it had been that way for him since he was a sophomore in high school, and even now as an upcoming sophomore in college it had yet to change.

He wanted nothing more than to be back in Marlena's life; he felt in control when he was with Marlena, but without her that feeling was nonexistent, and he absolutely despised it. The only way for him to take that control back—and Marlena—was to get rid of the person who could possibly prevent him from taking it. He knew he couldn't achieve it on his own, so he decided to seek out the help of one person he believed would actually help him: Hallie Walsh.

Dylan wasted no time at all in climbing up Hallie's porch steps. He knocked on the door and waited, listening to the sound of shuffling footsteps on the inside of the house. He desperately hoped it was Hallie who answered the door instead of one of her parents, otherwise it would have proven to be a rather awkward confrontation. Dylan was not a very well-liked man in Washington D.C., and he could only blame it on the reputation he made for himself back in high school.

After several more seconds, the front door burst open, revealing the young blonde girl with a chicken strip hanging out of her mouth. Hallie swept her eyes over Dylan's form and a look of disgust and hatred took over her features. She had no clue what he could possibly be doing at her home, but she was more than willing to find out.

"What do you want, ugly?" she remarked as she bit into her chicken.

Dylan sighed and scratched his head, unsure of how to go about the situation. "I need your help, Hallie."

She narrowed her eyes at him and shoved the rest of her chicken into her mouth. "With what?"

"With Marlena," he answered quietly. He needed to put on an innocent face if this was going to work for him. "I miss her, Hallie, and I want her back in my life more than anything, but I just don't know how I'm supposed to achieve that."

"Aw, you miss her?" Hallie cooed. "Too bad I don't give a shit and I'm pretty sure she doesn't either." Hallie moved to close the door on him, but Dylan was quick to stop it with his hand.

"Please hear me out, Hallie," Dylan pleaded, eliciting an eye roll from the blonde.

"What exactly do you want, dildo? I've got ten chicken strips in the living room and I'm binge watching Bob's Burgers on Netflix and you're interrupting me," Hallie remarked with a sigh of annoyance.

It didn't take but three seconds for Dylan to conjure up a lie. "Marlena's seeing this man, and I've got a bad feeling about him. I'm afraid he's going to hurt her, and I need your help to remove him out of her life so I can fall back in and be the good boyfriend I never was to her. I wanna take care of her, Hallie."

Hallie's breath caught in her throat at the mention of this "man." "So, you've met him too?"

Dylan nodded in response. "Yes, and I don't like him. He's bad news, Hal."

"Okay, first of all, you don't get to call me Hal; you're too irrelevant to earn a privilege such as that," Hallie countered, prompting a scoff from Dylan. "Second of all, I know he is, and I tried to tell her but the little wench wouldn't listen to me. She's stubborn, y'know—she sees the good in people. Why do you think she stayed with your trashy ass for so long?"

"I know, that's why I need your help," Dylan said.

Hallie pursed her lips at Dylan and studied him, looking for any signs of "fuckery" as she would refer to it as. When she found none, she let out a sigh and pulled the door open farther, gesturing him inside. He smirked and strolled inside, clearly proud that she had believed his little lie.

"So, how long has it been since you last spoke to Marlena?" Dylan questioned her as he strolled into the familiar living room.

Just as Hallie had said, there was a big box of chicken tenders sitting on the couch, along with a various amount of sauces scattered across the coffee table—Bob's Burgers was also being displayed on the enormous flat screen TV hanging on the wall. Hallie hadn't changed a bit since they graduated high school, but that didn't necessarily surprise him much. He always believed her to be a special kind of person.

"Like a week or so," she answered nonchalantly, plopping down onto the couch with her chicken tenders.

Dylan raised a brow at her. "A week? You two talk every day if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, well, being stuck up a guy's ass can have quite an effect on a girl," Hallie sighed, "I hate that she's so involved with him, just about as much as you do."

"Does that give you a reason to want to help me?"

Hallie nodded. "She was never even like this when she was with you, and let's be honest, you were a control freak dickhead who got angry whenever she so much as spoke to a teacher."

"Yeah, you're right." Dylan cringed as he thought back to those infamous high school years he had endured. He had changed substantially since then, but it didn't seem to be enough to make an enormous difference.

"Anyway, I'd love to help you get rid of this leech that's taken over my best friend's life," Hallie remarked as she shoved a chicken tender into her mouth. "I'm not doing it for you though. I'm doing it for Marlena."

"I would expect nothing less, Walsh," Dylan smirked again. "So, what's the plan?"

Hallie smirked and in minutes the two were headed to work.

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