Dizzy

***

My hands are shaking as I pull up in front of Dad’s office. It’s the only place I could think to go. I feel like the smallest wind would blow me over.  Like the rain that just started could easily wash me away.

My hands come down over and over on the steering wheel and I scream. I can’t stop it even when it stings the palms of my hands. I hate her. I hate what she did, but more than that I hate being this weak. How could I let her do this to me again?

Fumbling, I pick up my cell and dial. He answers on the second ring.

“Dylan. Where are you? Are you okay, D?”

My face is wet. I can’t believe it. When did I start crying? Somehow, it feels a little better just knowing I have my brother on the phone. “Derrick… she’s here. She came back, and Dad let her in the house.”

“Calm down. Slow your breathing, Dyl. It’s okay.”

“How is this okay? Did you not hear what I said? Mom is back!” My whole world ignites when I realize it. Flames lick my skin, threatening to overcome me. “You knew.”

“I love you, little brother.”

“You love me? You knew! You fucking knew, and you didn’t tell me!”

It’s just like that day all over again. Dad knew, Derrick knew, and they abandoned me, left me on the outside while they were on the inside. It hurts worse than her leaving, than her coming back. We’re supposed to be a team, and they locked me out again. Kept this from me. What else don’t I know?

“So much for the Gibson Boys, huh? That should really just be you and Dad, shouldn’t it? Two Musketeers? You promised, Derrick. You said you’d always be there for me, you’d take care of me. You left me for Lora, and now you kept this from me, too!”

Something sharp pierces through the middle of me. I’m cracking, so close to breaking.

“I never left you, Dylan. Where are you? I’ll come get you. We’ll talk. With the wedding and all… I just wanted to talk to her. I didn’t expect—shit, let me pick you up, and I’ll tell you everything.”

I want to tell him… but I can’t.

“Nah, I wouldn’t want to drag you away from pla

I hit end. The palms of my hands are red from where I beat them against the steering wheel. My eyes sting. Rain starts pelting my windshield as hard as when I was outside the restaurant with Ziah. Ziah… I still have someone left. Someone who hasn’t pushed me aside. Who wants me and doesn’t keep things from me. When the voicemail picks up, I end the call and dial her again. Pull it together, Dylan. Don’t freak out. Come on, Ziah. Pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

I clear my throat, trying not to sound like I’m having a nervous breakdown. “Hey… I… Can I come over?”

“What’s up? I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.”

She’s in the middle of something? Doesn’t she know I need her right now? “Can’t you break away?”

“Is everything okay?”

Then I hear a different voice. A male voice with her. “Hurry up, slow poke.”

My heart is going crazy now. I feel all jittery. “Who is that?”

She stalls for a minute, and I know. I know who she’s pushing me aside for.

“It’s James. We were just—”

I hang up.

Wrong. I was so wrong. She left me, too. Just when I started to trust her. When I needed her. I throw my phone in the passenger seat. I’m not cracking anymore, I’m shattering. She’s just like the rest of them. When push comes to shove, she bails on me, too.

Slamming the Hummer into drive, I jerk into traffic, needing to be anywhere but here.

Twenty-Two

~ Ziah ~

I hit send and it cuts straight to Dylan’s voicemail. My legs collapse beneath me, and I’m suddenly sitting on the sofa.

“Ziah!” James yells. “I need help in here!”

“Quiet for a sec!” I rest my head in my hands. I hit send again. Voicemail. My heart drops.

Why do I feel like something just went really, really wrong? Dylan’s voice sounded so… hollow. What happened? It’s not like him to call and be so desperate to come over. At all. And if he was “trying” like he said he would, he’d have made a joke about his awesome boyfriend powers or something, not sounded so weird.

And why, why did he have to call when we were studying? Why did he hang up and not let me explain? Something happened. Dylan likes a good banter, the fun back and forth. But maybe now that we both want more, things have changed.

My hands go to my stomach. “Oh, God,” I whisper. “I never even told him James and I were talking again.”

“Told who what?” James asks as he steps into the living room. The rest of our study group isn’t here, and now I wonder if he even invited them.

“Dylan.” I let my eyes find James’s. “I didn’t tell him we were speaking.”

“Who’s Dylan?” he asks, folding his arms.

“He’s…” How do I describe Dylan? “I really don’t want to talk about this with you, and I think I just completely let him down.” My phone is still clutched in my hand.

“So is that why we can’t be together anymore?” James’s voice is filled with irritation.

I don’t have time for this. “James? Get over yourself. We were friends who turned into something more because we have so much in common. But we’re done. We were done before Dylan and I started, and we wouldn’t have lasted anyway, not after Alyssa.”

“Didn’t take you long to find a replacement.” He sounds all sulky.

“You didn’t even wait ‘til we were split to find a replacement!” I shriek. “I think I might have somehow just really screwed up something I care about! It’s not about you!” Wow. I’m completely freaked out.

He stands way too still for a moment. “We’re really, totally over.”

“Yes.”

My insides feel all antsy. Something’s wrong, and it’s part me and part something that happened before Dylan called me. I run my hands over my head, my phone still clutched in one of them.

“What do I do?” The words just come out.

“Go find him.” James’ arms drop to his sides.

I throw my arms briefly around James and run out the door, leaving him alone in my house.

***

I pull into Dylan’s driveway as a BMW pulls out. My eyes catch the woman’s face. Dylan’s blue eyes look back at me. His aunt or something? I’m not sure. Lora said some of their family was coming to town.

His driveway is practically a parking lot in front of his house, and coming here in Mom’s beat-up Subaru makes me feel like sort of an outsider in the life of Dylan. His dad jogs down the front steps.

“Mr. Gibson?” I can’t believe he didn’t notice me right away.

“Hey, Ziah. Bad timing.” He glances around so nervously making me feel even more panicky.

“I got a weird phone call from Dylan, and—”

“When?” He takes a few jogging steps toward me and rests his hand on my arm.

My chest drops again. “What’s going on?”

His dad pushes out a hard breath. “When did he call?”

“I don’t know. Thirty minutes ago? Traffic was bad, and…” and now I’m having a hard time breathing.

“He was already gone when he called you.” He releases my arm and stands back.

“Where?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be about to leave you alone in my driveway.” He begins walking away. “I waited for him to come home, and now…”

“Wait!” I plead as I follow. “What’s going on?”

“Family stuff, Ziah.” He reaches into his pocket. “Here’s my card. Please call if you hear from him, okay?” He continues toward his car.

I stop in my tracks. “Tell him I’m worried!” I call after him. “Or I’m sorry!” Or I’m an idiot…

Mr. Gibson leaps into his car and peels out of the driveway. I’m left standing beside my mom’s car with his business card in my hand in front of their monstrous house. And in that moment, it all comes together in my mind—family stuff, Dylan’s mom, the blue-eyed woman. The reason he needed me.

He must think I bailed on him, just like everyone else. I didn’t listen closely enough to him when he called, and that was all it took—the end of Dylan and Ziah. I barely make it back to the car before slumping in the driver’s seat and sucking in shaky breaths in a failed attempt to not cry.