What's It Going To Take For This Misery To End?
Stare at you like you have everything I need.
Zack lead Dylan into his house and to the living room. They sat down on the white couch that they were both fairly familiar with. The silence filled up around them, making them feel small and as if they were running out of oxygen. Neither really understood what was happening to them. Neither knew if they wanted to understand what was happening to them. They were scared.
"I'm sorry," they both apologized at the same time, making them turn and stare at each other.
Zack made a face and raised his eyebrow, "why are you sorry? I'm the one who ignored you for 24 years. I was such an ass to you. You were nothing but perfect and I just ditched you out all the time." He set his right hand on her left knee, "don't be sorry Dylan."
She nodded her head. She really didn't know why she had said sorry. She just figured she must of had done something to him forever ago that just stuck with him all of these years. She bit her lip. Why did he ignore and act like he hated her?
It was silent again. Zack looked over to Dylan and noticed her attention was focused on his carpeted floor and her bobbing feet. He smiled to himself as he watched all of her little movements and took in her appearance. He couldn't think of a time when she didn't look perfect.
"Dylan?" he questioned, an idea suddenly popping into his mind. He watched as she removed her right hand away from her lips and looked up at him. Her chocolate brown eyes staring back at him, making his heart flutter. "Do you have plans tomorow?" He figured she'd say yes, that she indeed had plans tomorow night, Friday night. A date perhaps, with someone who didn't treat her more worthless then the dirt they had walked upon.
"No," she smiled. She sat up straight and looked at him intently. He seemed different all of the sudden. She took in all of his facial features and could see that he was thinking to himself about something. She wanted to crack open his mind and see what it was. Since they were young she always wanted to know what that boy was thinking, but he was too complex, too secretive.
"Do you want to go out to dinner tomorow night with me?"