Lighthouse Lullaby | ✓

Part 15 | Tuesday, 29th September

I'm alone at the lighthouse again. I feel worse than the time I was four and Dad accidentally let slip that the tooth fairy wasn't real.

The cement underneath my body is cool. I stare at the stars, trying to make sense of their arrangement. But I can't stop myself from obsessing over everything that happened at school today.

Every minute I spent in the hallway, every class I attended, I looked for Dylan Frost. I searched the length and breadth of the library in the hopes that he'd be hiding behind one of the bookshelves. Either he was a world-class hide-and-seek champion, or he was absent.

(In case you're wondering, I have to eat lunch in the library now. It's the best place to escape Greasy's wrath as her relationship with the library is akin to that of a vampire and a wooden stake.)

Why was Frost avoiding me? Yes, that kiss was a colossal mistake. But I expected Dylan to forget it, or at least pretend like it never happened. Because running and hiding from problems? That's my thing, not his.

The memory of our first kiss threatens to resurface again. The slow song that is playing through the tinny speakers on my phone makes my heart heavy. I have no strength to suppress the memory from last year.

It was one of those rainy Mondays that puts you in a slow, lazy mood. The kind of evening when you stop to smell the air before you carry on. The kind that makes even homework a little less painful.

I got home from school, took a quick shower and walked to Dylan's house. He greeted me at the door, and we headed down to the basement.

It was just Dylan and me that evening.

We were listening to music, doing homework and talking. Two weeks had passed since I'd caught my boyfriend, Ben Carter or BC as he often demanded to be called (BS would've been more appropriate), cheating on me with a gorgeous sophomore.

He had caused a big, embarrassing scene at school earlier that day, begging for my forgiveness. I dismissed his apology with a few choice words that I had been practicing inside my head ever since I caught him and Sophomore Barbie together at his place.

"I feel so stupid," I said, shaking my head.

"You deserve better than him, Ambrosia," Dylan said softly.

I lifted my eyes to his.

"Yeah, well," I shrugged, drawing little circles and swirls on the margin of my notebook. "Liam Hemsworth still hasn't replied to my emails."

I had a sudden, inexplicable urge to reach out and touch the two indentations that formed in Dylan's cheeks when he laughed.

"Maybe you should try to find someone else," he said, using his pen to fill in the circles with black ink. "You know, in case the Liam Hemsworth plan fails."

"Who should I try to find?" I asked, tipping my head to one side. "Obviously, I'm not very good at finding the right guy."

"Someone who is honest, respects you," he said immediately, his eyes level with mine. "And understands how lucky he is to have you."

"Where am I supposed to look for someone like that?" I scoffed, averting my gaze to my notebook.

"Uh, maybe," Dylan faltered, his voice low and uneven. "Maybe it's someone you already know. Maybe . . ."

It was at that point that Faded started to play through the Bose speakers. The impressive sound system stood on a sleek wooden desk, a few feet away from the beige couch that Dylan and I occupied. The music filled my brain, my lungs, the room, everything.

"Maybe what?" I asked, holding my breath as I waited for his answer.

"Maybe . . ." he said, running a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. "It's me."

I didn't realize how much I had wanted Dylan to say those words until he actually spoke them. Blue ink was leaking onto my page as I pressed the tip of my pen on it.

"What if I wanted it to be you?" I managed to ask. "What would you do?"

But my voice was so faint that I had to repeat myself, leaning closer to Dylan's ear. My breath hitched in my throat when his cheek grazed mine as he shifted to speak into my ear.

"I would kiss you," he whispered. Two beats of silence later, he asked, "Can I?"

The word left my mouth in a rush. "Yes."

Sweet lips against mine, warm hands roaming my back, hearts pounding like the stereo. Dylan Frost kissed me in a way that put every kiss I had ever had to shame.

"Next time," I murmured as Dylan traced his thumb across my lower lip. "Don't ask."

But we never got a 'next time' because of what happened the day after. It crushed us and destroyed any chance that Dylan and I could have had.

The next day was a Tuesday, and it was the day our world came crashing down.