“Why don’tyou go get ready for training,” Liam tells Dylan. After Dylan places his bowl of cereal in the sink, he fake punches Liam on the way out, and Liam scruffs up his hair. It’s obvious they have a close relationship, which is sort of crawling up my skinrightnow.
“Who would have thought the babysitter would need a babysitter,”Iquip.
“Don’t take it personally,” Liam says. “Sam and Dan have had a string of bad luck. They’re just protecting Dylan.”Yeah, byusingyou.
“I understand.” I feel like a dog with my tail between my legs. “Can he like—um, does heneedhelp?”
Liam laughs, making me feel ridiculous. “No, he’s capable of getting his towel andgoggles.”
“Well, I don’t know ... I’ve never been around achildwith—”
“I would just act as though he doesn’t have anything different about him. It’s in your best interest.” Liam moves into the living room and opens a coat closet, grabbing a sports bag. “Five-minute warning, Dylan!” I’m basically useless right now, and this feels super uncomfortable. Circling around for something to do, I see a sports bottle on the kitchen counter and tend to that. I’ll just clean it out and fill it up. Even I can do that. “That’s Sam’s,” Liam says frombehindme.
I slam the plastic bottle down onto the counter. “Okay, how about you just tell me what to do all day, and I’ll be your puppet.Soundgood?”
“Perfect. Just how I like it,” he says while continuing on with hisroutine.
“I don’t like you,” Imutter.
“So, tell me, are the rumors true about Sterling?” Liam nudges me to the side, takes the bottle I had started to clean, and completes the job for me as I try to understand hisquestion.
“What are you talkingabout?”
A snorting sound growls in his throat, and he nods his head while drying off the bottle. “Nevermind.”
“No, tell me what you’re talking about, and while you’re at it, how about explaining the unnecessary warning you unwelcomely offered about him lastnight.”
“I’m sure you can figure out that much after spending the night with him.” The confidence he oozes with each word kind of makes mystomachturn.
“So, you thinkI’measy?”
He looks me up and down, completing his show of mockery with a crooked smirk. “Look at you with your sex hair and—” Immediately, I smooth my fingers through my hair that’s flipped out in everydirection.
“Think what you want about me. I don’t care.” I leave the kitchen and head up the stairs to check onDylan.
I knock lightly on his partially open door before pushing it open a few more inches, finding him staring out his window. “You okay,buddy?”
“Don’t pretend to be my friend,” hetellsme.
Moving forward, a few steps closer to him, I glance around, hoping to get a better idea of who he is and what his interests are, but his room is practically barren, with just a few professionally hung pictures of ocean waves. The only pop of color in here is a neon blue surfboard mounted above his bed. “Do you liketosurf?
He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says,sharply.
I continue looking around, finding a designer-like buoy on the opposite wall. “What aboutswimming?”
He shrugs his shoulders again. “I likesummer.”
“Well, it’s summer and it’s just about time for your training. Do you want to head out?” I notice one of his drawers is partially open, and I head over tocloseit.
“Don’t touch my stuff,” hesnaps.
I lift my hands before closing the drawer. “Okay, no problem. Do you want tocloseit?”
He shakes his head. “I like thatdraweropen.”
My chest feels tight and heavy as I desperately try to understand him, wanting to be a good person in his life, but I get the sense it takes time with him. “Okay, I understand,” Itellhim.
“No, you don’t.” He takes his towel from the bed and leaves the room. Like I’m sure I’ll be doing all day and week, I follow behind him ... watching, andanalyzing.
