Oh. Right. The night of the party; I really should have put that one together.

I spin to face him, keeping the now half-closed door between us. She pulled on him. Her. On him. He kissed her. I knew half this already, but now I have something to formulate a picture, and it kills me.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James. I don’t love you enough to stay together, and I’m trying to decide if I even like you enough to stay friends.” I slam the door in his face and cry because this should have never happened.

And then I cry because James and Ziah are no longer, and because my sister hasn’t even asked. It’s been more than a week, and she hasn’t asked where he’s been or how we are. And then I cry even more because I want to talk to Alyssa. I miss her.

I’m so stupid.

Why the hell would anyone want to be in love? Why would anyone want to be married?

I’m in my empty house, and I pace as tears stream down my face. What do I do? It’s not even like I have anyone I can talk to. My phone beeps.

ALYSSA: WE NEED TO TALK.

Oh. Right. James must have called her. This sucks. Now I’m ready to just—

A knock at the door makes me jump.

Crap. Who…? Oh no. Dread sinks further. Dylan. Stupid wedding location number one, and I forgot.

I take a few deep breaths, but my throat is still ten times its normal size and my cheeks are wet from tears. My hands swipe my face over and over as I pull open the door. Dylan’s eyes widen when he sees me. I must look really bad.

“Look.” But the word comes out all whiny and just talking makes my body want to cry again. I fan my face, but it doesn’t help. “Not a good time. Please. I’m sorry.”

“Holy… Ziah. What happened?”

I shake my head. Being humiliated at my own house alone is bad enough, but in front of Dylan? A million times worse. He’s one of the untouchable guys. Well…for a girl like me. The fact that we’re forced to be around each other doesn’t mean someone like him would ever choose to be here.

“Is anybody home?” He looks over my shoulder, probably hoping he can get an easy escape. That someone’s here to help the ridiculous crying girl.

I start to say no but just shake my head. My breath is coming in these weird, gaspy chokes, and I can’t seem to make it stop.

He waits a second and then his face changes. Like he’s determined. “Get your ass out here. You don’t have to talk. Let’s just… Mary makes everything better.” He smirks, but he looks like he’s really trying hard.

I’m such a loser idiot.

I let him take my hand and lead me to his car. I even climb in without giving him any crap over driving such a ridiculous vehicle, and then I realize I’m in long running shorts and probably smell.

Dylan gets in, turns to face me, and settles lower in the seat. “Wanna talk or whatever? Or no?” His words sound almost painful. This has to be a million miles from what he’d normally do.

“Lora didn’t even see.” Tears start running down my face again as I stare out his windshield “She knows me better than anyone, and she didn’t even see.”

“Sorry, Ziah. For whatever.”

I shake my head.

“Can I take you to a friend’s house or something?”

And then I shake in a sob, one I hope I can keep from turning into more. “No. She’s… This sucks so bad, I can’t even say it.” My body’s doing this weird quivering thing, and I pull in another breath, and I can’t believe I have to do this with HIM because I have no one else to talk to. “I think, since your party. She’s been weird and so has James, and…”

“Oh, shit.” He knows. Of course he does.

They’ve been weird for like two months, and I didn’t see it. But in just a few words, he’s caught on. I’m such an idiot.

I shake my head and wipe my face again. “Don’t. It’s just. It is what it is, but it makes the whole wedding thing…”

“Even worse.” He shifts in his seat and starts the car. “And Lora doesn’t know?”

“Pre-occupied.” And as I breathe in again, my body relaxes. Not a ton. But a bit. Enough that I think I might be able to hold myself together for a while. I hate that my own sister hasn’t looked past her wedding since she’s been home.

Dylan runs a hand over his hair. “That’s one way of saying they barely come up for air.”

I start to put a foot on the dash like I always do but stop and pull my knees to my chest instead. “I’m sorry. I just… I mean, he just left, and I just found out. And…”

“Nah. It’s cool. I got screwed out of pizza the other day, so we’ll get pizza. If we get around to the bullshit museum thing they want us to do, we’ll do it. If not, we can both claim bonding time or some stupid shit like that. Cool?”

“Bonding shit, huh?” I almost laugh. Almost.

“You’re about to crack a smile already. Damn I’m good.” He flicks on the radio.

The Neon Trees. “I love that song,” I say at the same time he says, “I love this band.”

“Jinx,” he says as his thumbs tap the steering wheel to the beat.

“Wait? What? You can’t say jinx unless you say the exact same thing!” Everyone knows that.

“Um, yeah I can. Dylan’s Hummer. Dylan’s rules.” His blue eyes find mine, and he gives me a ridiculous smirk.

I shake my head. “Okay, then you can’t say jinx unless it’s 1995. Dork.”

Maybe I can just hang with hot party guy. And maybe I’ll be able to function even though the guy who should be my boyfriend is with my should-be best friend. I wipe the last few tears off my cheeks.

“Shh. My rules, remember? You can’t talk until the song is over.”

And we just sit and listen. Mary’s seats are so wide I can pull my legs into cross-legged position. It’s not perfect and my chest still feels a bit caved out, but I also feel like I’ll survive it.

***

“Okay, are you kidding me?” I ask as we stop. The pizza place is sandwiched between a laundromat and a pull-tab convenience store.

“Don’t ya trust me?” he teases.

“I… Not really, no.” But I am totally distracted.

“Come on.” He opens his door.

“Your car is taking up two parking spaces,” I point out.

He shrugs. “Yeah. We were lucky to get two close together.”

“You can be such a jerk.” And I can breathe, which is more than I thought I’d be able to do an hour ago.

He chuckles. “It’s parking spaces, Ziah. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

He shuts his car door and starts around the front of Mary for mine. I jump out before he gets to my side. I’m not sure why I didn’t just let him get my door. It feels like I forced him on a date or something—though, really it’s our brother and sister who have forced us on a date, or an outing, or whatever this is.

I follow him inside, and the cashier leans his elbows on the counter. “S’up, Lil’ D.”

Lil’ D? I’m trying to hold in my laughter, but my body’s shaking anyway. This is so perfect. The crappiness from earlier is fading away fast. I’m sure it’ll come crashing in again at some point but not right now.

Dylan cringes. He turns toward me. “This is my brother’s friend Hank. And I don’t even let my brother get away with calling me that.” He tags Hank in the shoulder across the counter without looking.

“All right. Dylan.” Hank rolls his eyes at me. “What can I get for ya?”

“Do you trust me to order for us?” Dylan asks. “We could get my favorite.”

Crap. I’m chewing on my lip, and he’s staring. He must think I’m crazy. “I’m curious to see what Lil’ D gets on his pizza.”

He shakes his head. “I’m only lettin’ you get away with that because…”

I wait for a moment and then finish for him. “’Cause I’m a mess?” I offer.

Hank leans forward. “I’m guessing you both want a drink?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

“That’ll be twenty.” Hanks pushes a few buttons on the register.

“What?” Dylan chuckles. “How about you hook me up since you just gave her some ammo with that stupid-ass nickname my brother started.”

Hank laughs. “The problem here, Dylan, is I run a small pizza place, and you live in one of the biggest houses in Portland. I’m totally exploiting you, and you’re lucky you can get a pizza for less than fifty bucks.” He turns and hands the order through the window to the kitchen. “And you have to move that ridiculous beast of a car you insist on driving. I can’t have you taking up two spaces.”