My life as a loser in High School.

I had decided that I was going to play Dylan at his own game. Oh yes, the words “sneaky” and “me” don’t usually fit into the same sentence however today I was going to make sure they do. I had gone behind Dylan’s back to arrange the tutor session somewhere which wasn’t my house.

I had told Mr Cooke that my mother had friends coming over and I didn’t want to disturb them by bringing Dylan into the house and as I love tutoring so much, I couldn’t bear to miss it so could he please contact Dylan’s mother and see if it’s okay if we study at his house?

I’m so proud of myself that I managed to think up this cunning, little plan. In fact I had been pretty happy all week. After showing the Italy letter to my mother she stared at it for approximately four minutes, made a lot of grunting noises, starting counted on her fingers (it wasn’t only me who sucked at maths) and then agreed I could go as long as I cut back on what I was spending.

I almost argued back at this point because apart from my weekly pack of bubble gum I splurge out on, I pretty much bought nothing. If I wanted a new pair of shoes, I took an old pair and glued some sequins on. If I wanted some new clothes, I raided my mother’s closet. It was always her that insisted on buying me new stuff. However, she had said yes to the Italy trip so I bit my tongue and then went to share the good news with Jay.

I had no idea who else was going on the trip but I had a few suspicions that Dylan and his crew were coming along because they were talking very loudly about it earlier. I was debating with myself whether asking him would make it seem like I was flirting when he came storming out of the school looking like he had just swallowed a wasp.

“What’s up with you?” I asked, trying to bite back a giggle. I knew exactly what was wrong. It felt good to be the one amused and smirking instead of the other way around.

“Tutoring is at my house tonight.” He grumbled, not even looking at me at he stomped past. I didn’t know if the lack of eye contact is a part of his sulking method or whether it was a result of what happened Friday night. He still hadn’t mentioned anything about the kiss- in fact just now is the first time he has spoken to me at all since he assaulted my mouth.

“How come?” I questioned, trying to act innocent.

“I have no idea, Brie.” He sighed, picking up his pace as we turned the corner. It took a lot of effort to keep up and I could feel myself becoming out of breath. I really should join a gym or something but I really hate exercise and people always leave their sweat all over the equipment.

He seemed a little angry; I could tell by his tone and his facial expression. I knew that he knew it was me who changed the tutoring plan, but why wasn’t he saying anything? It sucked that he could pretty much read me like a book but I think I hated it more when Dylan was annoyed with me and didn’t say anything, then when he was making snide remarks.

The rest of the walk was in silence. I knew I was as red as a tomato when we arrived at his house but there was nothing I could do about that. “Mum, I’m home!” He shouted shrugging his bag off and throwing it on the floor. He didn’t even look at me as he walked into a different room.

I stood awkwardly for a few moments wondering whether I should follow him and where the hell should I put my bag? I heard hushed voices coming from the room Dylan had gone in and then one louder, female voice said “Where’s your friend?”

I took that as an opportunity to appear at the doorway. I smiled sheepishly at Dylan and his mother. Dylan just scowled but his mum beamed at me. She was a larger lady which shouldn’t have shocked me but did. She had on pastel colours and no make up and her dark hair flowed past her shoulders. I guess I expected the mother of Dylan not to look so... normal. Like, if you look at Dylan and he radiates mystery and sex appeal, and those smirks make you want to punch him and you think there is no way his parents aren’t rock stars or famous actors. It’s nice to know he is a little bit like the rest of us.

“Did you just leave her in the hallway?” She asked, whipping Dylan gently with he tea towel. Dylan just shrugged and glared. His mother rolled her eyes and tutted at him. She looked at me with a knowing expression in her eyes like I too, had a moody, angst ridden teenage son. “He may be intelligent but he can be a bloody pain in the arse at times. I swear I tried my hardest to bring him up with manners...”

“Have you finished insulting me?” Dylan snapped interrupting her. I tried my hardest to conceal a small smile. Dylan’s mum just reached over to ruffle his hair then mimicked the pose he was doing. We both let out a small laugh. “We’ll be in my room.” He said, grabbing my arm and pulling me.

“Wait! Does your friend want a drink?” She brushed past leaving a waft of toast and washing up powder before I had a chance to decline. “You seem so much nicer than that girl Katie. All the time she comes over she seems like she’s in the middle of some kind of strop. It’s like that girl has permanent PMS.” I found myself smirking at her comments.

“Mum, that’s my girlfriend you are talking about.” Dylan glowered.

“I’m your mum; I’m not supposed to like your girlfriend.” She shrugged.

“No, you’re supposed to discuss marriage and baby names with my girlfriend.” He corrected. Her eyes widened.

“I hope not. You’re only sixteen. Is there something you are not telling me?” He rolled his eyes and grabbed my arm again.

“Bye mum.” He said loudly, gently tugging me. I smiled at her and took the drink she was holding out to me. I then followed him up the stairs towards his room. Dylan grabbed his bag on the way up which held our text books.

Each step towards his bedroom left me more nervous. I had never been into a proper boy’s room before, only Sid’s, but he doesn’t count. Well, I have to admit, it wasn’t what I had been expecting.

Dylan’s room was way tidier and organised than mine. The walls were a light blue colour and his bed sheets matched. Not one thing seemed out of place in his room. His C.Ds and movies where lined up neatly and they were probably in alphabetical order too. There was not a stain or a smudge on his cream coloured carpet and his bed was perfectly made.

I gaze around for a few minutes longer before my eyes caught sight of a bunch of photo’s stuck to the wall. I glanced at Dylan but he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to what I was doing. I walked towards his photos to get a better look.

Some where of people I recognised such as Dylan and Brett clutching a can of beer or Dylan with a few people he hung out with at school. I noticed smugly that there weren’t any pictures of Kate and Dylan alone; there was always someone else in the photo with them. There was a couple of Dylan and his mother however Dylan looked a lot younger than what he is now. Finally I came across a few pictures with Dylan and an older man. The man had exactly the same shade of green eyes and dark hair so I guessed it must be his father. They were both grinning happily.

I heard Dylan cough sarcastically to get my attention and I turned to face him, cocking my head to one side. “Is this your dad?” I questioned. Dylan walked towards me and studied the photo I had been looking at.

“Yeah, that’s him.” He muttered.

“He’s hot.” I joked but Dylan didn’t find it funny.

“He’s a prick.” He spat, turning away again. I raised my eyebrow interested but Dylan was flicking through the books again. After a few seconds he spoke, but still without looking at me. “He hasn’t seen me for months. Ever since he got his new girlfriend... He thinks by sending a cheque every month he has the right to call himself my dad.”

“Oh... So your parents are...”

“Divorced? Yeah. He left my mum when I was ten for some younger girl. My mum got all depressed and stopped taking care of herself properly. I threw myself into studying and art trying to take my mind of things. That’s why I’m so talented and intelligent.” He smiled weakly although it wasn’t that funny.

“What’s happened to your dad?” He suddenly asked. “I’ve seen the picture of your parents in your room. Are they divorced too?” My stomach lurched and I could feel my throat become tight. I haven’t really spoken about my dad to anyone in Kings. I mean, Brett knows about him and I think Jay has guessed what went on but I haven’t admitted anything yet. I swallowed hard.

“Erm, my dad died last year.” I told him. I watched his face drop into a look of realization. He sort of sat up too and I think he was going to give me a hug but it would have been too awkward.

“Do you mind me asking how?” Dylan said carefully. I shook my head and quickly glanced towards the ceiling. I read somewhere that this move stops you from crying even though I wasn’t sure I was going to start crying.

“It was cancer. He got diagnosed with it a couple of years ago but then he took a turn for the worst. I missed a lot of school visiting him in hospital because St Markus was so far away. That’s why I’m so behind in most subjects- not because I’m stupid.”

“I didn’t think you were stupid anyway.” He said softly. “Why’d you move to Kings?”

I shrugged. “My mum couldn’t stand being in the house by herself. Especially because it held so many memories. And I was away in boarding school and my mum was struggling to pay for me to go there so she decided to move out of the house and spend to a school where education was free.” I laughed lightly. Dylan nodded as though he suddenly understood everything better.

I fiddled with my fingers as he we approached the awkward silence stage. I didn’t exactly go into what I thought about my father’s death and how bad it affected me but I already felt like I had told Dylan too much. “Shall we get started then?” I asked motioning towards the books. Dylan just nodded. I went to sit next to him on his bed however instead of flopping down like I normally would; I sat right on the very edge. His bed sheets looked like he ironed them every morning; I didn’t want to spoil that.

“You know, I like spending time with you, Brie?” He suddenly piped up.

“Huh?” Oh, please tell me he wasn’t going to claim his undying love for me and start acting all nice just because he found out my dads dead.

“It’s like...” He frowned as if trying to think of the words. “It’s like every one expects me to be something I’m not but you don’t really care about things like that. All you seem to care about is whether someone has clean finger nails or not, not whether they can drink ten cans of beer straight after each other and not pass out. You’re just really different... it’s sort of refreshing.”

“Erm, thank you?” I didn’t know what the hell he was just going on about but if this is the new nice Dylan then I think I might like it.

“But if you tell anyone what I have just said, then I will kill you.”

And then we are back to square one.