Lost in You

and they definitely don’t know about my dad. I want to keep it that way.
    The only problem living with Dylan is that I have no freedom. Everywhere I turn she’s there making sure I’m okay.  But being at Dylan’s gives me things I’ve never had before like a radio, TV and computer. I’m allowed to watch TV, even though I haven’t a clue as to what we watch at night, but I do know it’s all done as a family and I like that. And I have laughter. They're always laughing. I wish I could join in, but I can’t. Each time they laugh, I think of Hadley and wonder if she’d think the same thing was funny. When that happens, I excuse myself and retreat to the guest bedroom.
    I know I can stay here as long as I want. It’s nice to be wanted by someone, even if it’s not Hadley or my parents.
    I left this morning before Dylan woke up. I needed to walk in the crisp air and work out some aggression. I’ve thought about asking the wrestling coach if I could use the punching bag in the weight room. I figured if I can picture Hadley’s face, the way she looked leaving the police station, I could take my anger out on the bag. I also wanted to come in and use the computer in the library where Dylan isn’t looming in the hallway or looking over my shoulder. If I had told her this, she’d make sure it didn’t happen. Dylan is doing everything she can to help me forget these past few months, even if I don’t want to forget them. Now I sit in front of the library computer, which is the same computer that showed me pictures of her and her ex, which resulted in her showing up here, and us being arrested. I type in her name and pause, my finger hovering over the enter key. There’s a side of me that wants to know what she’s been doing these past few days, but I’m also afraid.
    I keep asking myself “what if I meant nothing to her? What if I was just something to pass her time?” I want to say that I know the answers, but if someone asked me today, I wouldn’t know what to say because nothing seems real. How do you just disappear from someone’s life like that? How do you almost give yourself to them one minute and in the next want nothing to do with them?
    I need to stop thinking about her, but I can’t help it. Everywhere I turn, she’s there. I want to believe that when I turn eighteen, she’ll be standing outside waiting for me. We’ll run off together and this will all be a stupid nightmare.
    I hit the enter key and shut my eyes, waiting for the images to load. I’ve learned from Dylan that the newest items always show first. I’m going to believe that she’s coming back to me. When I open my eyes, I bite my lip to keep from screaming out, but it’s not enough to contain the rage building inside of me.
    A week ago she was my girlfriend. A week ago she was kissing me, touching me. Now, merely seven days later, she’s kissing him, and it’s right there for everyone to see. She holds him like she held me. He’s touching her, touching her like I’ve done… like he’s done so many times. It’s clear, right? This is what they call the writing on the wall. She doesn’t want me, never did. I was just her charity case.
    I shove my chair back, hard. My hands push against the table for leverage. The computer wobbles, but Dylan appears beside me, steadying it with her hands. She straightens the computer, not making eye contact with me. She must think I’m some pathetic loser. That’s what I think of me. I can’t believe I’ve been so naïve this whole time. I turn away, afraid to look at Dylan or even have her look at me. I want to scream out and throw the computer across the room. How can she do this to me? Did I mean anything to her?
    I stand up, kicking the chair. It does nothing to quell the anger inside of me. I pick up the next chair and throw it across the room. I don’t know if it hits anything. I don’t care. I hate feeling like this. I look for something else to throw, eying the computers sitting on the table. If I damage them, maybe they’ll throw me out of school and then I can be the pathetic loser that everyone thinks I am.
    Dylan steps in front of me. I look down at her. Her face is calm, reserved. She stands in front of me with her hands down at her sides.
    “It’s going to be okay, Ryan.”
    I shake my head. She steps closer, pulling my hands into hers. Her chest presses against mine. I shouldn’t be standing like this with her, it’s not right. I’m with Had… no, I’m not.