Moonlight

Rush of energy

Lennox and I were looking for a table to sit at when Aiden waved at us and invited us to sit with him and Dylan. "Hi," Lennox greeted sitting next to Aiden.

"How are you doing, girls?"

"We're fine," Lennox answered. I would usually scold her for answering for both of us but at the moment I didn't care. I was too concentrated on Dylan. He had his eyes on his tray and hadn’t talked since we joined them.

I elbowed him softly. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he frowned. "How's your eye?"

"I don't even feel it, I told you so." And this time was true. It didn't really hurt. Last night, when I got home, mom was asleep already; lucky me, and I borrowed some concealer from Lennox, so I put some on my face when I woke up this morning. Hopefully, mom didn't notice it.

"You put something to hide it," he uttered, and I nodded in response. I liked the fact that he was giving me his attention, maybe it was because he was feeling guilty, I didn't know but he had defended me last night, so that had to mean something.

"I heard Logan didn't come to class today," Lennox said.

"He probably is too beaten to walk," Aiden chuckled.

"You shouldn't laugh about that," I scolded him, maybe sounding a little too harsh, and with my eyes, I offered him an apologetic look.

"Are you going to defend him?" Dylan raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not, he's an i***t but it's doesn't make me happy that you beat the s**t out of him."

"I did it to defend you," he emphasized.

"I know and I'm thankful for that, I just..." I trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air. "Never mind."

Memories of last night filled my mind, how Dylan almost killed Logan and how he had lifted him from the floor with just one hand. It was a side of him I already knew I didn't want to get to know better. Wait. There was one thing. One thing that I had to ask Dylan about, and I wouldn't just let it go.

I stood up. "Dylan, can you come with me?"

He gave me a questioned look. "Where?"

"Just come, please," I smiled softly, and he did, thankfully, because I didn't feel like begging or something of the sort. I had a feeling our next conversation wouldn't be really nice and that's why I didn't want Lennox and Aiden to hear it. We walked down the halls and got ourselves to the lawned area of the school. Dylan was watching me carefully, like analyzing me.

"What?" I frowned, puzzled.

"That's exactly what I was going to ask you."

I took a deep breath. "Last night, when you touched me, something weird happened..." I stopped talking to check his expression, but it was blank. "I know you felt it too."

"I think my elbow might have caused a little concussion in that head of yours," he mocked me, which highly irritated me.

"I'm not playing around, Dylan," I glared at him.

"Neither am I," his expression was humorless, this time.

"Well, don't try to fool me because I know what I felt and it was real," I jabbed my finger on his chest and held his intimidating gaze.

"What exactly did you feel?"

"I don't know. It was like a rush of energy," I sighed.

"Bree," he grabbed my hand, and the rush of energy came again, this time it was warmer. "You should just let it go."

His silver-like eyes were pleading and even though I wanted to yield, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Something inside me told me not to.

"I can't," my body felt so sensible, craving more of his touch.

He nodded slowly and let go of my hand. "Well, you are just wasting your time," he didn't say it with a harsh tone; it was more like an I-give-up kind of thing.

I knew he had the answer; he felt it but didn't want to admit it. I would have to find another way to make him confess but how? And just like that, he walked away from me, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

***

Chemistry was my next class and Mr. Connehill decided to put us in groups of two. To my luck, Aiden was in this class too, so we sat together then Mr. Connehill handed us a worksheet with at least 80 questions.

"This man must hate us," Aiden muttered and I giggled.

"It's his job to torture us," I joked.

We began to answer the questions. "Have you and Dylan been friends for a long time?"

"Hmm. For a few years," he replied. "Why?"

"Just curious," I responded, casually.

"Curiosity killed the cat," he smirked.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You'll find out, later on," he winked and then beamed, cheerfully. As if there was something funny that I didn't know about.

"Great," I said sarcastically. I hated when people did that to me, to leave me clueless about something.

Aiden chuckled. "You're not the patient type, are you?"

"What do you think?" He laughed a little bit louder this time.

"Miss Dillard and Mr. Harks," the professor approached us. "Isn't my class interesting enough?" I absolutely hated when teachers asked that sort of question as if they wanted us to tell them that we didn't give squat about their lessons.

Aiden hummed. "To be honest... No."

The whole class went "Ohh," and Mr. Connehill glared at him, obviously annoyed. I, on the other hand, had to bite my inner cheek to stop myself from laughing. "Perhaps, detention would be more interesting, then. For both of you," he turned around and kept with the lesson.

Detention, spending a whole hour doing absolutely nothing was not something I wanted to do.

"I'm sorry," Aiden mouthed.

"It's alright," I reassured him. I wasn't happy about going to detention but Mr. Connehill's face was worth it. That man was unpleasant and unfriendly, and I was not overreacting. But at least this was my last year; I would never have to see that teacher, and any other teacher from this school, again in my life.

After my last class, I made my way to detention, dragging my feet unwillingly. I really didn't want to go. I spotted Aiden and sat next to him.

"Hey," he whispered, and I waved at him, smiling.

We weren't supposed to talk, so I didn't want to risk myself, nor Aiden. The classroom was technically empty. Just our literature teacher, Mrs. Thurman, who was in charge, Aiden, another girl I didn't know and me. I found it better that way.

Boredom was going to be the death of me. I stared at the ceiling, then at the floor, then to Aiden, and so on and on. I was moving too much on my seat, back and forth, and from left to right. If someone gave me a penny for every glare Mrs. Thurman was giving me, I would be a millionaire, for sure. Finally, time was up, and Mrs. Thurman dismissed us.

"Finally!" I blurted out once I was making my way to the parking lot with Aiden. "That was torture."

"It wasn't so bad," he said, carelessly.

"What?" I looked at him in disbelief.

"It gives you time to think, you know?" he shrugged.

"Think about what? Maybe your life is interesting enough for you to have things to think about but this girl," I pointed at myself with my thumb. "Doesn't." Aiden laughed and I did the same.

My laughter was cut off when I saw Dylan leaning against a car. There was no denying that he was good looking with his black hair, strong jaw, and deep silver-grey eyes, which made every girl melt under his stare. Although, there was something about him, his piercing gaze that made me uneasy if I stared at him for too long. His manner of walking, the way he talked, it all showed he was no guy to mess with. He was so mysterious and intriguing. Something told me he was going to be in my head for a good while.

"I'll see you later," I said to Aiden before we could approach Dylan.

"Wait. How are you going to go home?"

"Walking."

"We can take you," he offered.

"No, thanks. It's really close to here." By the corner of my eye, I saw Dylan getting closer.

"Please, let us," Dylan's gaze was all it took me to say yes.

"Okay," I nodded, and we made our way to the car. It was a Camaro "Whose car is this?" I asked.

"It's mine," Aiden responded.

"I think I fell in love," I joked but it was kind of true. I would love to have a car like that. We climbed on, Aiden on the driver's seat, Dylan on the passenger's seat and I sat on the back. I ran my hands on the seat, it was so soft.

"You really like it, don't you?" Dylan asked, with his head turned at me.

"Yeah," I flushed.

"Are you a fan of cars?"

"Not really but this one is really nice."

"You know how to drive?" Aiden asked me.

"Yes, my mom taught me last year."

"Want to try?" I looked at Dylan bemused.

"I don't think Aiden would want me to," I said, sheepishly.

"What?" Aiden stopped the car. "Come on. Show us what you've got," he climbed off the car and got in the back where I was. Were they serious?

"Guys, please. Don't mess around," I laughed.

"We are not," Dylan reassured me. "Get on here," he patted the driver's seat.

I was completely nervous; it had been a while since the last time I drove a car, but I did as Dylan said and went to the driver's seat. I put my hands on the steering wheel and hit the pedal slowly. I was feeling bashful and nauseous; I mean what if I crashed the car? That would be dreadful.

"Don't be afraid," Dylan placed his hand over mine, comforting me and it worked.

"Oh God," I said, hitting the pedal a little bit harder. I had passed my house already, but I didn't care. It was so cool, so exciting to drive a car like this. "This is so cool," I yelped and looked at Dylan, he was grinning, a genuine grin.

"Bree! Eyes on the road!" Aiden called my attention and when I looked forward, a car was coming towards us; I turned the steering wheel and hit the break. My breathing was heavy, and my heart was pounding strongly.

I began to laugh, a loud, heartedly laughter and the two boys imitated me.

"This is your entire fault, Dylan," Aiden teased.

"Is that so?" He beamed.

"Of course. You distracted Bree." Those simple words made me blush instantly. Dylan eyed me and there was something on the way he was looking at me, but I couldn't tell what it was. "Let's switch, Bree," Aiden suggested and I did. "I don't want my baby getting crashed."

Once we were in front of my house, I said goodbye and got off the car. "Thank you so much, guys," I smiled widely.

"You're welcome," Aiden said as Dylan said, "Anytime."

I saw the car disappear on the street and entered my house. I saw mom sitting on the couch. "Hey, mom," I greeted. "You came home early from work," I sat next to her, leaving my backpack on the floor.

"Yes, I was feeling a little bit indisposed but I'm feeling better now," she stroked my hair.

I nodded. "What are you watching?" I pointed at the TV.

"Friends," she responded.

I loved that show. So, I stayed on the couch with my mom, spending some time with her before going up to my room to do homework.