I manage a weak smile, grateful for his support. Dylan helps me with my luggage. Together, we make our way to the car.
“How are you?” he asks.
I glance at him. “Right, dumb question,” he says. “Well, now that you’re here… I think you should try to take your mind off things; just focus on your mental health…” His words wash over me, but my mind struggles to fully engage.
Time slips away, and somehow, we arrive at our apartment. Dylan parks the car and once again assists me with my luggage.
“Thank you, Dylan,” I manage to say.
His eyes meet mine. “Yeah, no problem,” he replies, stepping out of the room. However, before leaving, he pauses by the door.
“Listen, I think we should go out tonight, do whatever you want to do, you know, to keep your mind off certain things…”
“That’s sweet, but honestly, I feel like being here rightnow is best.” I can’t find it within myself to do anything enjoyable. I don’t deserve it.
He nods. “Okay, well, if you need anything, you know where to find me,” he says with a warm smile before turning to leave.
I shut the door behind him and sink onto my bed. My tired body hurts. Everything I did hits me like a ton of bricks, and the room feels like it’s echoing my regret.
Getting over this mess seems like a never-ending journey.
“B?” Dylan’s voice cuts through the quiet, followed by a knock that’s just shy of desperate. “Blair, come on, open the door. You’ve been holed up in there for a week. I think it’s time you got out…”
He keeps knocking, not giving up.
And he’s right. I have been locked in here for the past seven days, only slipping out to grab food before retreating like a ghost back into my room. I’m ashamed as well as sad. And the worst part?
I still love Calvin.
Hell, I think I love him more now than I did a week ago.
Pathetic, right?
“I’m starting to worry about you,” Dylan says through the door. “Even your followers have been asking where you are.”
“I’m fine,” I mutter. It sounds more like a lie out loud than it did in my head.
“Oh… she speaks,” he says, a bit of relief slipping into his voice. “Open the door. Please.”
“Go away.”
“If you don’t open this door, I will break it down. And when the apartment manager charges us a ridiculous fee we can’t afford, I’m blaming you. Five… four… three…”
I roll my eyes. He won’t actually break the door down.
But still, I find myself moving. I crack the door open just as he gets to two.
“I said I was fine,” I mumble.
“You’re not fine,” he says firmly. “Come out with me tonight. Just one night, B. If it sucks, you can go right back to hiding from the world and I’ll leave you alone.”
“I’m not in the mood. But… thanks,” I say, starting to close the door again.
His hand catches it.
“Blair. Please. I’m really worried about you. And if you say no, I’m calling your parents.”
I blink. “That’s blackmail.”
