So I lied.
Nah, we’re just friends now. I’m so over him.
Since when? Iris fired back. You were all about him just a few days ago.
Since we hooked up. We’re better off as friends. I shrugged as if she could see me. It was partially true. He’d made it clear so I might as well accept it. I called the box office. One of the perks of being with the bad was reserved tickets for every show. I texted Iris back that she was good.
Before Iris could respond, another message dinged.
We good? Speak of the devil. Dylan must have a sixth sense.
I didn’t respond right away, instead I messaged Iris. Gotta go. Working on a new song.
With Dylan? she asked.
I turned off my phone. This was all too high school and I was over it. I didn’t want to be in the middle of some imagined love triangle. I didn’t need any fake drama in my life. There was enough real drama going on. I picked up my guitar and just started playing.
A song emerged. I’d never written one before. I popped open my laptop and started making notes, recording the chords and melody. It took me most of the morning to finish a complete version, and I recorded it too. It felt so right, so true. The strangest thing was how much it felt like me. As if writing this song opened up me to me. I turned my phone back on and ignored the messages that begged to be read except one.
Dad’s being admitted to the hospital.
The phone slipped from my hand and landed with a thud. I grabbed it off the floor and hit call. Mom she didn’t answer. I called the only other person I knew who might help me.
Dylan answered on the first ring. “Cam?”
“Can you come get me?” I asked, barely keeping myself together. My voice quivered as my lips trembled. “Dad’s in the hospital. I don’t have any other way there.”
“I’m on my way,” he said before ending the call.
Dylan honked twenty minutes later, but it was unnecessary. I was already halfway out the door when I saw him turn the corner. I climbed in. He spun out before I buckled my seatbelt.
“What hospital?” he asked.
“North. It’s—”
“Put it in the GPS,” he ordered.
I did as instructed. Dylan’s jaw was tight and his hands gripped the wheel. His lips were pressed into a fine line. Maybe I shouldn’t have called him. Iris had been texting me all morning, maybe I should’ve called her instead. She might have come.
“You okay?” I picked at the seam in my shorts. “I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”
“No, I just... I don’t handle hospitals well.” He relaxed and reached for my hand. His fingers curl around my clammy skin. “What happened?”
“Dad’s been shaking a lot lately.” I bit my lip as the image of the mug falling from his hand popped into my head. “Mom scheduled an appointment today. After that, I don’t know.”
He wove his fingers between mine and squeezed. “I’m sorry. Your dad’s a good guy.”
“I know,” I whispered. Dad was more than a good guy. He was my everything. I couldn’t image him not being at my first show when I struck out on my own. I couldn’t image him not walking me down the aisle when I was much older. I couldn’t image him not being there for anything.
Dylan squeezed again and glanced at me. “He’s going to be fine.”
I almost laughed. Mom said the same thing after the stroke. Dad wasn’t fine. But I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to prepare myself for the worst. “Why don’t you like hospitals?”
“Does anybody?” Dylan shrugged and tried to pull his hand back, but I wouldn’t let go. He sighed. “Mom tried to kill herself when I was fifteen. And Dad’s been in and out of rehab. Those usually started at a hospital after he overdosed.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Is your Mom okay?”
“Yeah, she is now.” He smiled and I knew his mom was his everything too. “She’s been in therapy. That’s made a huge difference. That’s why she got back into real estate. I went with her as she scouted properties. It didn’t take a shrink to see how much she loved it. So I did what I could to help.” He shrugged. “Dad was on a world tour. I’d already dropped out of high school and gotten my GED, so I had plenty of time on my hands.”
“You dropped out?” For whatever reason, I didn’t see Dylan quitting anything.
“Yeah.” He glanced at me again. “I didn’t get along with most people and had my own ideas what I needed to learn. I took some online classes with Mom and passed it easily. Then I kept going. I went to college online and got my degree in business when I was nineteen.”
“Pamela said graduating high school was important to your dad,” I mumbled.
“Probably aided in my nefarious plans to drop out,” he said, a smirk lifting his cheeks.
“And now here you are,” I said motioning to the city streets passing us.
“Here I am.”
“Can I ask why? I mean, I know you said he asked and you agreed, but that’s all you said. Not that I’m not glad you’re here, but obviously you have issues with your dad.” I slapped my free hand over my mouth. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I thought he was crazy when he asked me. The truth is I hoped spending time with him someplace else might change our relationship.” Dylan glanced over at me then focused back on the
