Room For Rent [Dylmas]

Chapter 7

Dylan's POV

Two weeks. It's been two weeks since I moved in on Thomas' house. Things have been going smoothly. Too smooth, actually. Thomas went out of his way to make sure he drives me to school. Every. Single. Day.

It's kind of awkward, but I got used to it. I spent my nights talking with him after I got home from my work. We knew each other better, but our topics never strayed too far from privacy.

"Dyl, you ready to go?"

I looked at the door before getting my bag. He's started calling me Dyl and it kind of made me happy. It's like a symbol of how close we've gotten. I stepped out of my room and got face to face with Thomas. "Well?" he asked.

"Uh, I'm not going with you this morning?"

His eyes widened and asked me why. "I'm going to walk to school with Jessica."

"Your school friend?" he asked.

"Yes, Thomas. My school friend," I mocked. He frowned at me. "Aw, little Tommy is sad, because he can't drive me to school."

"Shut up," he walked away from me and went straight downstairs. I sighed and shook my head. Thomas is being the bitch that he is. One thing I learned immediately from when we first met is that Thomas has attitude issues. I followed downstairs and into kitchen. He was sipping on the coffee that I made for him.

I crossed my arms. "You're mad at me, but you're drinking the coffee I made you?"

He stared me down. "No, I was just about to bloody spit the damned thing." he retorted and drank some more.

"Oh, come on, Thomas. You're mad? At me? Are you serious?"

"I can be mad at you when I want to be."

"You're so stubborn!" I exasperated.

"Whatever. Go with Jessa or whoever she is you're going with. Go away," he rolled his eyes at me, still drinking.

I groaned in frustration and fished for my phone inside my pocket. I sent Jessica a text message as Thomas eyed me. "What are you doing?"

I rolled my eyes. "Making you happy," I grumbled.

"What?"

"I texted Jessica and told her to meet me near your shop. We'll walk from there, so..."

He smiled at me. "Okay."

Slap me, please. What am I doing? I'm letting Thomas get what he wants. Damn child. I hate the way how he wants to make everything convenient and easy for me. For the past two weeks, more things I've learned is how childish Thomas can really be when he wants something and I've also learned he's bitchier than most girls.

"Let's go, Dyl," he beamed and went first.

Alright, never mind.

I followed after Thomas outside, doing our daily ritual, well, except for weekends. I prefer walking to my job. I watched Thomas all the way as we drove, thinking how much we've strengthened our bond. As I've learned, again, Thomas has always been sassy. He gets pissed easily, too, but he's a pretty decent guy. He accepts everything about me. Well, the ones that I've showed him.

"Just here?" he asked as we arrived in front of his shop. I removed the helmet off and ruffled my hair.

"Yup, just here."

"Alright, then. Have fun in school."

I waved him off and texted Jessica. We met just five blocks away from Thomas' shop. I turned to look back, but he already went inside.

"Hi, Jes. Sorry for suddenly changing plans."

"Bitch, it's alright. I don't mind," I smiled at her as we walked.

I saw Jessica glancing back and asked her what it was. "Oh, nothing. Just some bug buzzing about my head. Anyway, have you done your take-home quiz in History?"

"Don't tell me you haven't done it."

"Well..." I rolled my eyes and told her she can copy some of my answers, but not all.

"Aye, you're the best!"

I laughed at her as we walked to school, talking about nonsensical things, just anything to pass the time. Oftentimes I stare at Jess and it reminds me to thank the heavens for giving me a friend like her.

We spent the day like usual, listening to lessons, eating lunch, goofing off, then going our different ways. My time at work usually passes by so fast unless something unusual or new happens.

For the first time ever, I've decided to visit Thomas in his shop. I aimlessly walked around while thinking of how my day went.

Ever since I met Jessica, school life seemed so peaceful—almost too good to be true, but I try to be optimistic.

I kicked on a pebble and chuckled as I compared it to myself. It's so me, so, so me.

I stopped dead in my tracks and found myself smiling mirthlessly. Why am I here? Why did I find myself helplessly scanning every house in the middle of night back then? Why was I grasping on my backpack like it's the only thing left of me? What drove me to that point, really?

I—

"Dylan?"

Instinctively, I looked up at the mention of my name and saw Thomas staring at me, his left hand on his waist. "What are you doing here?"

"I..."

He raised his brow at me and sighed. Without double-checking, he grabbed my hand and led me inside his shop, which I didn't know I was at already.

The chime of the rusty old bell at the top of the antique door finally helped me snap out of whatever dream state I was in.

Thomas sat me down on one of the stools behind the counter as he pulled another and sat in front of me, "What made you visit?" he smiled cockily. "Missed me?"

I clicked my tongue. "As if."

He laughed heartily. "So? Truly, what made you come?"

"I was bored."

"Really now."

It was obvious he didn't believe me, but I ignored it. "How's business?"

"Typical."

"Typical?"

"Yeah," he answered. "You know, not everyone has broken cars or motors to be fixed."

"Point taken."