D for Dylan - 14. Chapter Fourteen

A few days after our midnight chat, Emma left. Uncle Hank agreed to let her visit her parents, and she had to speed up her departure to avoid being seen by Liam. His flight home was scheduled for the weekend, it gave her no wiggle room to plan her trip, and a few days later Helen and I were dropping her off at the airport.

“If Hank shows up there, just call me.” mom told her after a tight hug.

“I don’t think he will.” she replied. “He’s trying to mend things, so he’ll behave for now.”

I still felt awkward and remorseful for seeding that dark cloud circling over her head after our conversation. She never attempted to talk about Liam again, which felt good, but left some lingering bitterness in my mouth. I would lie if I’d say I haven’t thought about her words. She was hopeful about him, thinking he was finally turning back into his old self, but I knew it was all a lie.

He showed up to school by Monday, and the moment felt like a montage scene straight out of a shitty early 2000-s movie. He was rocking a fresh pair of sunglasses and a tan from spending too much time out in the mountains, skiing down the slopes while the rest of Montgomery High had to worry about the attendance. His girlfriend was sucking on his mouth like a leech for three minutes straight, before he did everyone a favor and pushed her away. Black button shirt, fancy white pants and a golden watch on the wrist - he looked like a million bucks, as always.

“What the fuck is wrong with this place?” Elle asked, as we sat in the cafeteria. “Goddamned asshole missed three weeks of school and not a single teacher asked where he was!”

“Maybe they thought he was sick?” Pete suggested.

“Yeah, coz he totally looks like he’s on his deathbed.” she snapped sarcastically.

As my friends enjoyed talking shit about Liam, I caught myself staring at him for a tad bit longer than I intended. He looked good, but I could still see sadness hiding beneath the default facade plastered across his gorgeous, chiseled face. He rarely raised his deep green eyes from his phone and avoided people all day. I felt that sickly sting of anxiety when our gazes met, but despite my desire to ignore him, I couldn’t afford the luxury of maintaining our distance today.

Today, I needed him to do something for me. Liam Henderson owed me information.

He was going to tell me everything he knew about Jake.

“You think it’s a good idea?” Elle whispered in my ear, as we walked through the football field. “What if he lies to you?”

“I thought about it, but I think it’s better to face Jake with at least some information…”

I bit my tongue. Elle still didn’t know about my conversation with Jessica. She tried to pry the details out of me, but I was too scared to get her involved. The things Liam’s bitchy girlfriend said that day made so little sense that I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. Was she bluffing? Was she just playing tough to scare me? Somehow, the way she said it, the confidence with which those words escaped her Kylie-Jenner-lips made it seem completely genuine. If she was fucked up enough to threaten my little sister, there was no need to pit her against Elle as well.

‘At the very least, my boyfriend hasn’t killed anyone yet.’ - echoed in my head. - ‘Unlike yours.’

Liam knew something. He was foaming at his mouth trying to keep me away from Jake, he told me not to trust him, said he wasn’t who he pretended to be.

“Still, I wouldn’t trust a thing he says.” Elle exclaimed.

“Oh, believe me, he’s the last person I’d trust.” I chuckled, scratching my wrist. “But he knows something, and I’m tired of playing his games. I’ll get it out of him.”

Months of studying biochemistry taught me about how predictable our bodies were at their cellular core, where everything was governed by the laws of chemical reactions. You have enough substrate to load the enzyme, you get a few more conditions right and the reaction will happen. Always.

Same was true about Liam Henderson and his behavior on the football field. The angrier he was, the tougher he played. Whispers about their upcoming match against Springfield Serpents were hyping up on Instagram reels, and there were more folks sitting on bleachers during their training sessions to cheer up the team. Especially now that their prodigal captain returned.

I was standing in the shade of an oak tree by the entrance to the gym, waiting for them to finish. One by one, testosterone party returned from the field and entered the building like a school of fish. Their 19-year-old captain followed them at the very end. He was drenched in sweat, his swollen muscles bulged out of the corners of his number-8 shirt, contouring impressive silhouette of his athletic body.

I was leaning against the bark of the tree when he noticed me. I took a deep breath and pursed my lips, trying my best not to frown. The last thing I wanted to do was start a conversation with someone I wanted to murder, but alas, circumstances have left me with no choice. I waved at him, fighting the urge to chop off my arm and faking a smile that wasn’t fooling anyone. He said something to his teammates, wiped the sweat off his face with a small towel and walked towards me. The stench of his body got louder with each foot of distance he killed between us, and I cussed myself for the lack of appropriate response. I always loved the way he smelled.

“What do you want?” Liam asked with irritation in his voice.

He was breathing heavily, sweat was beading off his temples and streaming down his hairline. I was having trouble concentrating, for some reason. His 6’5” frame was towering over me in a weirdly intimidating way.

“Look, I know you and I got off the wrong foot the other day…” I started saying, rubbing my knuckles and looking down on grass.

“You mean when I confessed my feelings and you laughed me in the face?” he clarified.

“Well-” I uttered.

“Dylan…” he hissed, losing patience and cutting me off. “What do you want?”

I half-anticipated him to be pissed off, so I brought a secret weapon. I gestured him to give me a second and pulled out a bar of dark Belgian chocolate out of my pocket. Treacherous heat was threatening to melt the damn thing, but it held up.

“It’s Godiva, 72%. Your favorite.” I said, handing the bar over to him with a forced smile. “Truce?”

He took the chocolate and gave me weird look, which I couldn’t quite decipher. I needed to play nice if I wanted him to spill the beans. I tried to brainstorm the best strategy as we walked towards the bleachers.

“You know, you look refreshed! Uh… You got this nice new tan and uh…” I mumbled stupidly, struggling to complement the fucker, “Did you have fun in Aspen?”

“How did you know I was there?”

For a quick second, my heart stopped. My palm itched to slap my forehead silly, but I resisted.

“It doesn’t matter…” I murmured, waving my arms and speeding up towards the bench.

“Wait, I didn’t tell anyone. How did you find out?” he pressed on.

“I think somebody mentioned it today, I don’t remember.” I brushed off, getting slightly irritated.

The last thing I needed was to blab something about Emma, for him to latch on to and connect the dots. Liam was stubborn and mean, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Why does it matter anyway?” I asked, losing temper. “You got hurt and went to lick your wounds at a luxury resort for a few weeks. Everybody wins!”

I bit my stupid lip again, immediately regretting lashing out on him. I needed him in good spirits, sabotaging this shit wasn’t going to do me any good!

“Is that what you think?” he asked, looking at the chocolate bar.

“Pardon me?”

“You think I ditched the team for two weeks right before our finals because… Because I wanted to have fun, or something?” he asked.

Rubbing my hands together, I took a deep breath and exhaled through pursed lips like a 70-year-old victim of advanced COPD. This conversation was going disastrously.

“Listen, I’m not here to argue, okay?” I said. “I don’t even know what I was hoping for, coming to meet you…”

“What do you want?” he asked again. “You hate my fucking guts, you’ve made that pretty clear. I get it now. So why… why all this?”

It felt like he was genuinely confused, shaking the chocolate bar in front of me. I was fidgeting. I didn’t really know how to ask him. Did I really want to know? Was I ready for his answer? It felt like I was standing at the edge of the abyss.

“What do you know about Jake?” I asked.

His face darkened instantaneously.

“You’ve mentioned a few things before. I wasn’t paying attention back then…” I continued, “But I’m ready to listen now.”

Liam sniffled and raised corners of his mouth, exposing his pearly fangs.

“Troubles in paradise?” he asked with an arrogant chuckle.

“No.” I lied. “I just… figured out a few things. About both of you.”

I knew that adding Liam into the sentence wasn’t my brightest idea. I needed to thread the line thin enough to let him know I knew about his father, but strong enough not to fall though and get mixed up with something I absolutely didn’t need.

“Both of us…” he repeated quietly.

“Yeah.” I exhaled, half-shuddering.

“And what is it?” he asked, daringly. “What is it that you figured out?”

I had no idea how to proceed. I was improvising, there wasn't a safe strategy to probe him through something like this.

“I know about your dad, Liam.” I finally had the courage to say.

He nervously half-smirked and tilted his head, peering into my eyes, as if trying to figure out if I was bluffing or not. His testing smile crumbled on his face, and eyes softened when he realized I was serious. His lush eyebrows crowded closer to each other, and for the first time in years, I saw him experiencing… fear.

“What?..” he asked.

“You said it yourself, remember?” I reminded. “At the party... You told Jake that I’ll figure it out, eventually.”

His full, red lips slowly parted, but he didn’t say anything.

“…I did.” I finished.

Liam struggled to pick up his composure, I could see it.

“So…” he whispered. “I guess you’re happy we aren’t friends anymore.”

“Why?” I asked, furrowing my brows. “Because your father is Don Corleone?”

He nodded, shrugging his shoulders.

“Not really.” I said. “Losing our friendship didn’t save me from violence, and uncle Hank had nothing to do with it. You fucked it all up on your own.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed, squeezing the melting chocolate bar in his hand.

“How did you-” he uttered, but I didn’t let him finish that question.

“Jake’s mom and your dad… They’re partners, right?” I asked. “So the two of you must play nice to each other?”

“Did he tell you?..” he asked, with a slight disbelief.

“No, he didn’t.” I said. “But I still need to know more.”

“What do you wanna know?”

“You told me Jake was dangerous. Why? Because of his mom?” I asked, hoping that it would be the end of this conversation. “That was it, right? You just… You didn’t want me to hang around their family?”

Liam’s lips pressed into a thin line and he folded his hands, which forced my heart to bottom out to my feet. I knew this gesture of his.

“No.” he said. “I meant what I said.”

“What is it?” I asked, tensing up. “Did he do something?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“You really want me to?” I asked.

“No.” Liam barked, looking me in the eye.

My anxiety was starting to boil over.

“Okay then. Talk to me.” I exhaled, shaking my hands like a boxer, to dissipate stress. “What did he do? Did he hurt someone?”

Liam contemplated his choice of words, I could see it in his body language.

“Spill it. Come on.” I edged on, anxiously.

“What is it that you found in him?” he asked, suddenly disorienting me.

“What?”

“You rejected me. You fucking humiliated me, and all of that for him, for that piece of shit. I wanna know why.” Liam uttered. “What makes him so fucking special?”

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

He didn’t.

“You wanna know why?” I hissed through gritted teeth, leaning closer to him. When there was less than an inch separating our lips, I whispered, “Because I like the way he fucks me.”

The tension had finally spilled over the lid and I was officially losing it. That fucking asshole wasn’t going to tell me anything.

“Really?” Liam spat out, bumping his forehead against mine. “You think he’s good?”

“Uh-huh...”

“How do you know I’m not better?” he asked, peering through my eyes.

“He has a bigger cock.” I lied.

His sweaty palm grabbed me by the jaw and pulled my face closer to his. I could taste droplets in the air he exhaled, the smell of his sweat loaded my nostrils.

“Is that so?” he asked.

“Yes…” I hissed, daring him to do whatever he was going for.

Suddenly, he released his grip on my face and rocked back, springing up from the bench. He looked down on me, and I did my best to ignore what I saw between his legs. His stupidly massive erection burrowed its way along the leg of his quarterback pants, and it was right in front of my face. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t so easily impressed.

“You know what?” he said. “I’ll tell you.”

“Great. Go on.”

“Not so fast.” he smiled. “I won’t talk about it in here.”

“What the-”

“You wanna know what he did?” he asked daringly, pushing his chest forward. “Come to my house after school and I’ll tell you. Heck, I’ll show you.”

I gave him questioning look. Show me?

“And when I’ll show you…” he said, grabbing a fistful of his member. “…you’ll find out what you were missing.”

The words he said made no fucking sense. I did my best to look away, but the motherfucker was in my head, pulling the strings he should’ve long lost control over.

“We’ll see about that.” I smirked, trying to stay calm.

“Come over at 8. Don’t be late.”

With that, Liam walked away, finally ridding me of his company. I wiped my face from sweat, took a deep breath and tried to stop my heart from racing, too tired of feeling dizzy.