Lost in You

losing Dylan is not an option.
    I race down the hall, her head barely visible through the sea of students. I reach her just before she turns into the classroom. I pull her hand into mine and weave us through the other students, away from both our classes. She doesn’t say anything when we end up at her car; maybe she knows. Of course the only problem with this plan is that her keys are in her locker and we’re now standing outside. Thank God it’s spring.
    “We're going to miss class.”
    I shrug, not really caring. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing,” she looks away. She can’t even look at me when she lies. I hate that. I pull her chin forward and slouch down so that we’re eye to eye.
    “Don’t lie to me. Something is wrong. I can feel it. Are you pregnant?”
    Her mouth drops open, her eyes go wide and she pushes me hard. “Why would you ask me something like that?”
    “I don’t know, Dylan.” My arms go out wide in frustration. “Yesterday…” I shake my head. “I know we almost got caught. Honestly, I’m surprised we haven’t been caught yet – we’ve been having sex under their noses for four months. We’re just biding our time here.”
    She doesn’t say anything. I’ve learned this is typical chick behavior, especially when they want to be dramatic.
    “Your mom thinks I have a girlfriend.”
    “You do.”
    I shake my head. “She doesn’t think you and I are together. She saw the marks you left on my chest and called them hickeys.”
    “That sounds gross.”
    I nod, and shove my hands into my pockets.
    “Can I ask you a question?”
    I walk closer to her and lean up against her car. “Yeah.”
    She fiddles with her hands and sighs. This can go on for another half-hour if I don’t tread lightly. Before I crossed the line and kissed her, there were things I didn’t know about her. Now I can read her like an open book. She can’t hide anything from me, which is why we're standing out here now skipping class.
    “Do you ever worry we aren’t going to make it?”
    “What?” I scoff.
    She turns and leans against her car. “Close your eyes.”
    Doing as she asks, I close my eyes.
    “Imagine five years from now. You’re dancing and when you open your eyes, do you see me?”
    Five years? I don’t know where I’ll be in five years, but I imagine myself dancing, holding her close to me. I even add some music to keep up the pretenses.
    “Now look down at who you’re dancing with and tell me who you see.”
    My throat swells a little when the imaginary me opens my eyes. It’s not Dylan that I’m dancing with. My eyes flash open and she knows that I didn’t see her. I reach for her, pulling her into my arms.
    “It doesn’t mean anything.”
    “Yes it does,” she mumbles against my shirt. I feel her body shake and know tears are coming. “I don’t see you either, Ry.”
    She looks up at me. I wipe her tears and kiss her, holding her to me. Deep down I know this is going to be the last time I get to.
    “So what do we do?” Sometimes I wish she wasn’t so matter-of-fact about everything. Why do we have to do anything? Can’t we just stay together and take it one day at a time? I shake my head. I’m not ready to let her go. “Do you love me?”
    “What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”
    Dylan shakes her head. “You love me because we’re best friends and we’ve been dating, but do you love me like you love Hadley?”
    I roll my eyes. “I don’t love Hadley.”
    “You do and I’m okay with it. I know you don’t love me the same and I don’t really love you like that. Last night, I wasn’t afraid that my parents would find us having sex, but that they wouldn’t approve because they treat you like a son and I didn’t like having those thoughts.”
    I step back, putting some space between us. When she says things like that it makes me think. I shudder at the thought. I know exactly what she’s talking about and agree, except for the Hadley part. I couldn’t care less if I never see her again. As far as I’m concerned, she never existed.
     
    The rest of my day is a haze. I still walk her to class, but the routine quickly changes. I’m not kissing her goodbye or holding her hand. I’m not really sure how I feel about that, but looking at her as my sister makes it much easier to keep those feelings away.
    It doesn’t take long for word to spread that we broke up. By the end of the day, she has a date to prom and I, once again, am alone. We drive