Detention Boys

Chapter Thirteen

The whole school was buzzing for October break. Two weeks of no school, no homework, and doing whatever the hell you wanted.

Luckily, my nervousness for Fridays approaching date with Dylan was mistaken for excitement for our two week trip to the cabin. Don't get me wrong, I was excited for our two week vacation as much as anyone else, I was just more on edge about Friday.

Dylan offered to pick me up on Friday night at the end of school, but I told him I would just walk along to his and meet him there. The truth was I needed the walk to clear my head and stop freaking out. Freaking out, however, was probably an understatement.

My mum wanted me home at eleven and I'd agreed to meet Dylan at his at seven thirty, so I made my way to his at seven. I tried to treat this like any other date I had been on, and I'd been on plenty to know that there was no need to get worked up about it.

But none of those dates were with Dylan.

I thought I'd be freaking out because I was going on a date with a guy, a guy, but I really couldn't care less about that. My brain had stopped making that distinction- I was no longer thinking things like, you like Dylan who is a guy, or you kissed Dylan who is a guy. It was now just simply; I kissed Dylan who I really like.

The fact that the date was with Dylan was what I was freaking out about, and it was because I really did like him. To say I dated girls because it was a hobby makes me sound like a complete and utter dick, but I just never liked any of them as much as I like Dylan.

As I turned the corner on Dylan's street I was on the verge of needing a brown paper bag to control my breathing. Alec, snap out of it and stop being a pussy. Dylan was sat on the front step of the porch as I froze in front of his house. Actual breathing was a problem now. He was dressed in the same as he had been when he had asked me out, only this time- like myself- he had on a pair of gloves and he also wore a grey scarf. He picked up the bag next to him and slowly made his way towards me.

"You okay?" he asked. I nodded and followed him around the side of his house. We made our way down a path through the woods at the back of his house, deeper and deeper until we came to a clearing next to a big tree. Dylan paced the bad at his feet and looked up the tree, waiting for me to join him. I followed his gave up, and there, about fifteen feet up was a tree house. I gave Dylan a look of surprise and he turned to me, his smile lighting up his face.

"My grandfather built this for me," he began as he picked up the bag and walked round to the other side of the tree where a ladder was built against the trunk. "He built it so I had somewhere to go to practice my guitar where I wouldn't be bothered, my own space that only me and him knew about."

He started to climb, still managing to hold the bag and talk to me at the same time.

"My mum now knows it's here, but apart from her you're the only other person that knows."

I followed him up the ladder, and he gave me a hand up at the top. The tree house was surprisingly quite big. The floor was covered in blankets and pillows and there was a small table in the far corner where Dylan turned on and placed a lantern. The walls were covered in a variety of posters and pictures, and right away I felt overwhelmed.

This was Dylan's place. His own private place that his late grandfather built for him, filled with all his stuff that only him and his mum knew existed. And he had chosen to show me it.

"Dylan... you didn't have to bring me here," I said. He sat down and took my hand, pulling me down next to him.

"I know you're still unsure about things, so at least here you don't need to worry about anyone else."