Room For Rent [Dylmas]

Chapter 6

Dylan's POV

I think I heard Thomas say something. I was about to ask what, but I screamed instead. Well, why not?

"THOMAS!" I literally gave a death grip on his shoulders. Is he trying to kill me? I think he's trying to kill me.

Despite the rumbling of the motorcycle, I could hear Thomas' laugh. I gripped his shoulders tightly and made sure my legs were still attached to his motorcycle.

"I told you," he said over the loud noise. "Hold on tight!"

"You didn't tell me shit!" I yelled at him. Is this why he volunteered to drive me to school? Does he want me to die? Ugh, he's so mean. I can't believe my cause of death would be a motorcycle ride.

I felt his shoulders tense up as he took a turn. I suddenly got afraid of gripping him too much to make us crash. I instinctively dropped my hands to his waist, holding him tight and attaching myself closely. If I fall, I'll take him with me. Yup, nice thinking, Dylan. I'm so proud of myself.

Maybe it'll be nice if I wasn't wearing a helmet. I'd love to feel the cold wind. Well, if I get used to this. I don't know if Thomas is intentionally driving fast to scare me or if this is just normal. Either way, I'm petrified. I just held him tightly, providing myself some sort of comfort. This is good. I wouldn't want to get in an accident alone. I'd probably use Thomas' skinny body to save my fall.

"Hey, we're here."

I snapped out of it and peeked at Thomas. "What?"

"Get off," he said. I did just that and took the helmet off of my head. I looked up and saw we're not at my uni.

"What?" I asked again.

"It's my shop," he shrugged. "I'm just going to put down my stuff and drive you to school. Besides, I wanted you to know where it was."

I followed him as he went through his keys and unlocked a glass door. I didn't follow him all the way inside the shop, but I gave a bit of a peek through the door left open. I saw Thomas go over some sort of counter and set down his rucksack. He turned on some lights and got out again, locking it.

"Alright, let's head off."

"Your shop looks pretty old," I told him as I hand him my helmet.

He took it and placed it on my head. "It is," he replied as he adjusted the strap. "Used to be my dad's," he mumbled as he clasped it.

I didn't speak any further, knowing I shouldn't ask. He got on as he wore his helmet and I copied him, gripping his waist. Neither of us spoke. We just focused on the wind's pathetic attempt to embrace us.

As we neared the school, I let loose my hands on Thomas. I didn't bother telling him to not get closer to the entrance. It's still too early and I'm too lazy to walk now that I've experienced the perks of having a ride to school.

As the motor stopped, I hopped off and took the helmet off my head, handing it to Thomas.

"You can remove it, but you can't place it on?" he asked, pertaining to the helmet. I shrugged at him and smiled. He rolled his eyes at me but smiled, too.