“I did, but you didn’t respond,” he says, and I unzip my coat, setting it on one of the barstools with my backpack as I reach for my phone to see he did send me a message. I just didn’t check it before walking back from class.
“Sorry,” I mumble, twisting my hair back and securing it into a low, messy bun. “So what’s up?” I ask, and Dylan takes a seat on the couch, making himself right at home.
“You okay?” he asks, and I shrug, because what does he want me to say?
“Yeah. Fine.”
He barks out a short laugh. “That is the least convincing ‘yeah, fine’I’ve ever heard after asking someone if they’re okay.”
“Well, I guess you have your answer then,” I say, stepping into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee.
Dylan’s scrolling on his phone when I walk back into the living room with my steaming cup and sit on the other end of the couch from him.
“Jack doesn’t know I’m here. He said you wanted space, and we were supposed to give it to you, but he’s not doing so hot. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s scared. Whatever your situation with your ex is, it scares the fucking shit out of him, and I’ve never known Jack to be afraid of anything.”
I blink at him, trying to figure out what I’m supposed to say. Jack seemed perfectly fine in class. “What do you mean?” I ask, setting my mug down to grab my purple fuzzy blanket. It still smells like cinnamon and Jack from when he slept with it.
Dylan clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “The day you needed help because Bradley showed up here, Jack pulled me out of the middle of my class without saying anything other than you needed us. He ran the whole way here. I could barely keep up with him.”
What?My mind spins with the new information as I reach for my coffee again, blowing on the top to help it cool down faster. For a brief moment, I think about how Jack drank his hot chocolate without hesitation, even though it meant burning his tongue.
Well shit. Now I feel kind of bad for not being more open with him about my history with Bradley. “I didn’t know he did that. I’m sorry.”
Dylan shrugs it off. “Don’t worry about it. You’re one of us now, and my professor believed me when I lied and told him it was for hockey. He’s a huge fan of the team and didn’t even question it, but my point is, Jack’s different with you. I can’t even pretend I understand whatever the hell’s going on between you guys, but I know you care about him too. I can’t tell you why it scares him, but he’s afraid, and I think you should know that.”
I groan, staring at my coffee to avoid looking at him. “There’s nothing to understand because there’s nothing going on.”
“Sure,” he muses, and if I didn’t think I’d spill my coffee, I’d probably try to chuck a throw pillow at him.
“Dude, I don’t have enough brainpower to figure out whatever riddle you’re trying to give me right now. Can you just use actual words to tell me what you mean?” I ask, hoping he’ll throw me a bone, because all he’s doing is making my head hurt.
“You should ask Jack about his dad, and maybe more of this will make sense.”
“Dylan,”I complain, rubbing my temples.
“I’m sorry, it’s not my story to tell. Just try to cut him some slack because Jack’s blaming himself. He said something this weekend about your ex telling him to stay away from you, but he didn’t listen,” he says, and now it’s making a lot more sense why Jack didn’t even acknowledge me in class today.
“It’s not his fault,” I insist, my head snapping up to look at him. I might’ve thrown myself a pity party all weekend, but Inever considered the possibility Jack would blame himself for what happened.
Bradley would have done something sooner or later whether Jack was in the picture or not.
“I know that, but I’m simply telling you he’s blaming himself for what happened at the party. What you decide to do with the information is up to you,” Dylan says, giving me a reassuring smile.
“Thank you,” I say after a few moments, trying to wrap my mind around everything he said.
He stretches, grabbing the television remote and settles into the cushions. “Don’t mention it. Now, what should we watch?” Dylan asks, and a quiet but genuine laugh sputters from me.
Maybe I was wrong all along, holding hockey players accountable for my father’s shortcomings.
I sent Jack a voice memo before I left, but I wasn’t going to blow off our tutoring session. Doesn’t matter how confused I am right now, I need to be a big girl and talk to him instead of continuing to hide. He has that test next week in his business ethics class, and I’m not going to leave him high and dry.
Jack’s truck is the only one in the driveway, but when he doesn’t answer after I knock, I try the handle and find it unlocked. I walk in like I have a dozen times before, and everything looks normal. You’d never know there was a party here a few days ago.
“Jack?” I call out, slipping off my shoes, suddenly feeling unsure about this. “Are you here?”
I sigh, moving toward the stairs to check his room. He could be gaming with headphones on for all I know. If he’s not here,he’s not here, but then at least I’m not the one who bailed on tutoring.
I’m a few feet away from his door when I hear a low moan, and my curiosity gets the better of me.
