Dead and Gone [Alive and Shattered Sequel]

Dead and Gone: Chapter Ten

Grady hovered over me, unsure of what to do.  I needed my moment of panic. I needed to freak out, cry, and scream like I was five years old.

 

"You got this, Dylan." Grady tried to encourage me. I felt so small in this moment. I felt weak. I could remember the last time I did this when I was little. I had been in my room sobbing after my mother had died. The pain was the same.

 

The awful aching in my heart was the same.

 

Grady stepped off to the side, plopping down across from Adena’s room. He eyed the door, not able to look in my direction.

 

Stop crying, Adena needs you to be strong. She left something for you, read it.

 

I repeated these thoughts for a few minutes before I decided to take action. I sucked in a sharp breath before snatching the envelope. Ripping it open, I pulled out a crumpled piece of lined paper. Unfolding it, my eyes skimmed the page. I gasped. "Oh my god!"

 

"What?" Grady wondered, scooting closer toward me.

 

"It's . . ."I paused, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. "Our project."

 

“The one where you had to work with Adena?” he asked and waited, wanting more details.

 

I didn’t answer him.

 

I couldn’t.

 

This was from Adena, to me. I felt as though I couldn’t share it with anyone else.  The only other person who could come across this was our teacher. Other than that, it'd just be us.

 

Taking in a deep breathe, I began to silently read.

 

When Dylan Henderson pulled my name out of that hat, I was mortified.

 

I stopped and half smiled, remembering how I felt the exact same way. I kept reading.

 

First off, my new project partner couldn’t be any more unlike me. He’s outgoing, on the football team, preoccupied with parties and his girlfriend. Second off, he couldn’t pronounce my name right. He sounded like he was in a foreign land attempting to speak the language.

 

I paused and almost laughed, thinking back to how startled I was. I didn’t think it had been a real name at the time. I thought the teacher had been just been teasing me and messing around.

 

However, I soon figured out I was wrong. My initial feelings of resentment faded away as I got to know Dylan Henderson. The real Dylan Henderson, not the one that hides behind the fake smile or the bottle of Jack Daniels.

 

Why did I mention the bottle? Now I can’t submit this. Maybe I’ll let Dylan read this for his birthday?