D for Dylan - 18. Chapter Eighteen

De Costa.

Jessica Elizabeth Juanita Vasquez De Costa, to be exact.

“Who told you?” I asked, licking chocolate pudding off the back of the plastic spoon.

“Swathi Patel. Apparently they were assigned to an assay on ‘environmental risks of wearing slutty mini-skirts’ together last year.” Elle said with an unperturbed look on her face, adjusting her glasses.

“Is that even a real name?” Pete asked, cocking his head suspiciously.

“Two middle names, two last names.” I concluded. “Swathi said she’s Spanish?”

“Catalan Spanish, Portuguese, French and Jewish.” Elle clarified. “Parents moved here when she was 3, they’re from Barcelona originally.”

“That explains her looks…” I sighed.

“Honestly, her name sounds like a great bank vault password.”

“Or a safe word in a sex dungeon.” Elle giggled, turning to Pete, “Should we try it?”

“I’ll never remember it.” Pete objected.

“That’s the whole point.” she winked.

“Okay, that’s too much information for my ears.” I complained, getting out of my chair.

“Where are you going?” Elle asked.

I could feel her eyes on me, from all the way across the cafeteria. Jessica Elizabeth Juanita Vasquez De Costa was pissed as fuck. Her make up and outfit were on point, she looked as stunning as ever, but the darkness in her eyes was hot enough to burn a hole through my forehead. She was sitting with a few fellow ‘plastics’ from her clique, both of whom were sucking up to her like she was a VIP client at a spa, massaging her fingers, complimenting her nails, brushing her hair and whispering something in her ears, as she focused her frustrated gaze on me. I could certainly understand her anger, especially considering quite gruesome circumstances of her breakup from Liam a few days back, but her rage was obviously misguided. As I very clearly pointed out on that fated night, it was all her fault for not listening to me.

“I need to go outside.”

“Dude, it’s raining.” Pete said.

“It’s been raining for the past 3 days, I can’t keep eating chocolate puddings on every break.”

“I don’t know, a few extra pounds won’t hurt you, in my opinion.” Elle threw shade, giving me her signature side-eye.

My sight shifted from Jessica to Liam, who was sitting in the opposite corner, chatting with Mark and Sebastian. They were fiercely strategizing their game plan, gesticulating over scattered slices of pepperoni pizza. Unfortunately, much like his ex-girlfriend, the captain of the football team graced our table with his unsolicited attention on more occasions than I was willing to accept. Each time I licked the fucking pudding off my spoon, he’d stare at me like a starving dog.

“Sweet God, he’s doing it again.” Elle said.

“Don’t pay attention to him.” I replied, finally finishing off my dessert and picking up backpack. “I’m heading out, see you guys after school.”

“Are you sure you won’t need a ride home?” Elle asked.

“No, Jake will pick me up.”

“Are we still on for tonight at Frankie’s?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, he booked us a table.” I confirmed. “Please don’t be late.”

“We have a lot to catch up about! I haven’t seen him since the night of the party.”

“Yeah, he’s been busy with his studies...” I mumbled rather unconvincingly, not sure how else to respond.

The uncomfortable sense of unspoken conversation was hovering heavily in the air between us, ever since I called Jake back a few days ago. I apologized for avoiding him and promised to explain everything. He sounded hurt, there were a few pauses on the line, but Jake reassured me that it was okay and that he’ll give me as much time as I needed.

“Whatever it is, you can always talk to me about it.” he said. “I know things moved on quickly, I’m sorry if it scared you, Dyl.”

“No, no it’s not that…” I uttered.

“I get greedy sometimes, especially when it comes to you.” he said. “But I don’t want to freak you out. I’ll give you as much space as you need, I promise.”

I wondered if this was what Jake thought was happening. Did he think I freaked out after we had sex? Did he assume I was scared of commitment?

“I love you Dylan.” he whispered.

“Jake, I…”

“You don’t have to say it back...” he hurried to add. “I just want you to know how I feel. I’ll wait for you as long as it’ll take.”

The dense entanglement of complex, conflicting emotions was threatening to rip me apart. On one hand, I felt guilty about lying to Jake, about all the fucked up shit I’ve done with Liam, about avoiding and mistrusting my own boyfriend. On the other hand, I was scared shitless. I harbored zero reverence towards Liam and his murderous ex, but having both of them tell me that Jake was a dangerous person, especially after everything I found out from Emma, made it seem like I already knew what kind of conversation we will end up having.

Instead of denying it, Jacob Williams will have to explain how exactly he ended up killing another human being. What is a self-defense? Was it an accident? There had to be a reasonable explanation - Jake looked nothing like the monster Liam painted him to be.

Elle and I kept exchanging looks as the four of us sat at the table at ‘Frankie’s’. Pete was hoovering in pasta bolognese, which greatly irritated Elle and prompted her to kick him in the leg under the tablecloth a few times, in the manner completely opposite from stealthy. We spoke about the upcoming graduation, Jake opened up about how difficult it was to study for his Bar exam.

“Are you guys staying in Boston?” Jake asked.

“Yes, I got into a nursing school, I’m super excited!” Elle shared.

“That’s great! Which one?” he asked.

“Northeastern.” she proudly stated. “I know, right? Dylan brainwashed me, so it’s all his fault. I’ll send him a check for my tuition if I fail.”

“I can’t afford it, so you won’t fail.” I said, smirking at her.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine…” Jake smiled.

“Yeah, I know.” she winked. “Too bad Taylor Swift forgot to call me, but I’ll be okay…”

“Elle!..” I snapped.

Pete choked on his food, Jake started laughing and I covered my reddening face.

“You guys can’t handle a joke…” Elle complained.

“Can you promise never to do that again?” Pete asked Jake. “It took her a week to stop being hysterical.”

“No it didn’t!” she gasped.

“Yeah, Jake…” I agreed. “Please no more celebrities.”

“As you guys wish!” he chuckled, leaning over to give me a kiss.

I felt tingly in my legs. The awkwardness of our smooch didn’t go unnoticed, but Jake managed to save the situation by a second, more successful attempt. It’s been a few weeks since the last time we made out, and in that time my unfaithful tongue managed to get familiar with the taste of Liam Henderson’s tonsils.

The ride back to Jake’s apartment felt heavy. I was anxious, ashamed and jittery - it wasn’t surprising that he picked up on it.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“Later.” I uttered, resting my forehead against the cold glass of the passenger seat window.

The night city lights motion-blurred through the fields of my vision, as I contemplated how exactly to start a conversation like that. Should I be blunt? Should I thread carefully?

‘Don’t provoke him’ Liam’s words treacherously surfaced in memory, instinctively forcing me to rub my shoulders.

“Should I turn up the heat?” he asked.

“No, I’m okay. We’re almost there.” I said.

I told mom I’ll be spending the night at Jake’s and she made a nasty joke about how he could cure me from my ‘jerking off problem’.

I cracked up a smile, thinking about her unwavering shamelessness.

“Remembered something funny?”

“Yeah, Helen caught me jacking off a few days ago.” I said, giggling like an idiot.

“Oh shit!”

“Yeah, she won’t forget this to me.” I chuckled.

“Well, we can try and help you with that tonight…” he said, smiling at me.

I spun on the ridiculously comfortable Nappa leather seat of his Mercedes and took a deep breath.

“Actually…” I said. “I was thinking we should talk…”

“About what?”

“About that thing I wanted to discuss…” I said, sitting up straighter.

After a short moment of silence, he looked at me and quietly nodded. I must’ve been visibly trembling on our way up to his apartment. The sparkling night skyline reflected in his eyes as the glass elevator lifted us to his floor.

“Can you put on a kettle?” I asked, as we undressed and entered the kitchen.

Jake filled it with water and set in on the disc station, as I took two cups out of his cabinet.

“I never told you, but…” Jake said, smiling. “You might be the only American I know to own a kettle.”

“Would you look at that, you own one too!” I exclaimed proudly, nodding towards the glowing glass decanter, slowly starting to bubble on the kitchen counter.

“That’s because you bought it for me.” he said, sitting at the bar stool next to me.

“Yeah, about that.” I said, furrowing my eyebrows. “How did you live without it?”

“Like all normal Americans - I heated my water in a microwave.”

“Oh God…” I spoke in repulsion.

“Or in a coffee machine.”

“That’s seriously disgusting.” I complained.

“You know, I had Prajay and Kamala over here the other day,” Jake said. “They almost fainted when they saw it.”

I laughed. The kettle started whistling.

“Mom couldn’t live without a tea.” I explained, adding, “Whether it came as a gossip or a hot beverage.”

“I see.” he smiled, taking my hand.

“Also, coffee is overrated.” I said.

“Oh, that’s a dangerous statement right there.” he said, sounding insulted.

He grabbed my face in both palms and kissed me. I gave him a hug and shuddered, unable to hold my anxiety any longer.

“Dylan… What’s wrong?” he asked, brushing the hair at back of my head.

I pulled away from him, sat back at the stool and grabbed his hand.

“Jake, look…” I started. “I… I’m not sure how to talk about it, but… I figure I should start by telling you the truth, first.”

I couldn’t bring myself to lift my eyes up from his lap. I was playing with his warm fingers, trying to bring my heart rate down.

“I lied to you.” I said, trembling. “Remember when I told you there was a straight guy I had a crush on?”

“Yes.” he uttered.

“You asked me if it was Liam.” I reminded. “I told you it wasn’t… but I lied.”

The kettle started whistling a bit louder, the sounds of boiling water slowly filling the kitchen.

“Why did you lie?” he asked, calmly, rubbing my palm with the tip of his finger.

“Because I was ashamed.” I said honestly. “Liam and I… There’s a bit more story behind us, that you don’t know.”

“What story?” he asked.

I took a deep breath, wiggling in the chair and struggling to get comfortable.

“Remember I told you how we used to be friends?” I asked.

“Yes. And then he betrayed you and started…”

“…started beating me in school. Yes.” I finished.

I took another deep breath, this time to try and collect my thoughts.

“There’s more behind it. We…” I said, pausing for some reason. “We grew up together. Our families were very close and our moms, they… They raised us like brothers.”

I bit my lip. My hands started itching and I wanted to scratch them, but he took them into his.

“You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“No.” I interrupted, “I do. I have to tell you.”

I took a deep breath, noting that the kettle started acting on my nerves.

“It wasn’t just a crush… I fell in love with him.” I said. “I don’t even remember when it started.”

“Do you still love him?” he cut in.

“No.” I said, raising my eyes and looking into his, to make sure I got my point across. “No, it’s actually quite the opposite…”

Jake relaxed a bit. I could sense he was feeling that I wasn’t lying.

“He didn’t just beat me a few times, you know...” I said. “It didn’t end with hospital stays and fractures and missing organs... He did horrible things.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t want to.” I said. “Just trust me on this.”

“Is that why you lied that it wasn’t him?”

“Yes.” I said. “I was ashamed. I still feel that way… Knowing that I ever had feelings for him, is one last things I still hate about myself.”

“Dylan…”

“And nothing he’ll ever do will change that.” I added, hearing sadness in my voice. “He ruined me, left me broken and scarred, and I don’t know how to stop hating him. I think that’s my biggest problem.”

“You…” he said, confused. “You wanna stop hating him?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I won’t forgive him. But I need to let this go, because it’s suffocating. Do you know what I mean?..”

“Yes.” I nodded.

The kettle whistled louder, the boiling water threatened to knock off the on-switch.

“Back when we were at Jason’s party… Did he hurt you?” Jake asked.

“No.” I said. “He just apologized.”

I looked away. I wanted to come clean, I wanted to tell Jake everything, but I couldn’t risk starting a full-blown feud between him and Liam. He couldn’t know about the kiss, about the showers or about what happened in Liam’s house a few nights ago. I wasn’t sure about the magnitude of potential conflict this could ignite between their families, and I had no interest in finding out. This wasn’t only about me anymore.

“Again?” he asked, chuckling. “Didn’t he hear you the first time?”

“Yeah, I told him there’s no chance, but I guess he thinks differently.” I said.

“Was that all that happened?” Jake asked.

I raised my head and tilted my gaze upward, meeting his eyes with confusion.

“Remember you told me about him, after your nightmare?” Jake asked.

“Yes.”

“I said he’s a fool.” Jake recalled. “I said he realized what he’d lost.”

“Yes.” I nodded.

“Did he realize?” Jake asked, once again not making sense to me.

“Jake, what are you asking?”

“Did he make a move on you?”

My breathing suddenly stopped mid-cycle. Paralyzing sense of panic chained me still for a few moments.

“If he did, I would’ve kicked him in the balls.” I half-lied. “Jake, he’s straight…”

“I don’t care what he is.” Jake uttered.

The boiling water finally knocked off the kettle and the whistle died down, submerging the room in silence.

“…But I trust you.” he finished.

“Good.” I said. “But now I need to learn how to trust you.”

For the next painfully protracted minute I missed the annoying whistling sound of the kettle. Dead silence was far worse.

“Okay.” he said, taking a deep breath, as if bracing himself for an impact with a wall. “What is it?”

“I’ll start by saying something important, okay?” I asked, waiting for him to nod in acknowledgement. “None of the information I know came from Liam. Moreover, I don’t want to talk about how I found out, so please don’t ask me. Just know that it wasn’t him, I swear it.”

“Okay.” he nodded, getting distraught.

“I know about your parents.” I said, following up with a much necessary clarification, “I know who your mom really is.”

Jake took his hands off mine and rocked back on the chair, turning his face slightly, but keeping his eyes on me. His face went through several different expressions, as if trying to figure out if I was joking.

When it dawned on him that I wasn’t, the expression that settled frightened me. It was a cold, emotionless mask.

“I…” I shuddered, taken aback by his reaction. “Listen, I don’t care, okay?.. I just… I…”

“Who told you?” he asked, coldly and assertively.

“I thought we agreed, Jake.” I whispered, timidly. “I can’t tell you.”

The silence started filling in with a high pitched tinnitus in my ears.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” he pressed.

“I thought you said you trusted me.” I pushed back. “I already told you, it wasn’t him. Why did you feel the need to ask me again?”

“Dylan-”

“Jake, I’m stressed as fuck, I’ve been trying to gather courage to talk to you about this for weeks.” I exploded anxiously. “Please just…”

Seeing how stressed I was, Jake grabbed my hand again and cupped my cheek. His face softened.

“I’m sorry baby, I just…” he uttered, “You caught me off guard, that’s all. I trust you.”

“Okay…” I whispered, sucking in a huge breath of air. “Now look… I don’t know how to ask this, but I have to. I don’t think I can keep going on without an answer.”

Jake was silent, his hands holding mine, he looked me in the eyes trying to decipher what is was that I was so scared to voice.

“Did you hurt someone?” I asked.

“What?”

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Why?” he asked, distraught, “What, just because of who my mother is, you think I go around killing people?”

“No.” I said, quietly. “If I thought so, I wouldn’t be here.”

His eyes were moving fast, staring into mine, changing focus from my right pupil to left, as I sat there, motionless.

“I found a gun in your trunk.” I said, chewing on my lower lip. “The night of the party, when we brought you down to the car, I was looking for a first aid kit and saw it. Why do you have it?”

“It’s only there for self defense.” he explained. “I’m not a fan of guns, but I can’t afford the luxury of walking around without one.”

“And you’ve never used it?”

“Never.” he confirmed.

I believed him.

“Okay. So, you’re telling me you’ve never…” I whispered, stumbling. “You’ve never hurt anyone?”

Jake looked down at my hands and took a deep breath.

“Why are you asking me, Dylan?” he uttered, shrugging his shoulders and nervously pulling on his neck.

“Because one person… Someone I really dislike and don’t trust…” I muttered. “Said that you did.”

“Was it-”

“No, it wasn’t Liam.” I cut in. “I think he hinted a few times that you were dangerous, but I didn’t understand what he meant…”

“Dylan...” Jake said. “Are you sure it wasn’t him?”

“Jake…”

“I’m sorry for asking, but…” he exhaled, closing his eyes for a second and turning away. “There were only a few people who knew. His dad was one of them.”

I felt like the chair I was sitting in turned into a quicksand.

“What?..” I gasped. “So you actually did it?”

Jake squeezed my hand tighter. He nodded. The bright flashes of an ambulance driving by on the street flared in the large window next to us.

“Yes.”

I did my best to stay present. A vacuuming numbness replaced all my thoughts, as my consciousness quietly imploded.

“I’ll tell you everything, I swear.” Jake said, rubbing my cold hands.

“Okay.” I nodded.

“Just promise me you won’t freak out, okay?”

“Uh-huh…”

Jake caressed my cheek with his palm and I looked him in the eye. He was worried. I saw his lips twitching, nostrils flaring.

“It happened four years ago, when I was sixteen.” he said. “I had a close friend - Daniel. We used to hang out a lot, he got me hooked on drugs and… I started using ketamine and cocaine.”

I wondered if his words surprised or shocked me, but they didn’t, for some reason.

“I was a bit rebellious back then…” he said with an undertone of shame in his voice, “We used to go to night clubs and private parties, I was getting careless with money and sex…”

Jake stood up from the chair and went towards the kettle.

“Black tea?” he asked.

“Yeah. With one spoon of-”

“One spoon of sugar, I know.” he smiled.

As he poured hot water in our cups, I felt my phone vibrating in the pocket and silenced it.

“So you were quite adventurous, huh?” I asked, in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

“That’s an understatement.” Jake said. “I was crazy. Money really spoiled me.”

“And it went unnoticed by Shanice?”

“I managed to fly under her radar for a while.” he recalled. “I got a bad case of gonorrhea once, that’s when she found out.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah, I wasn’t particularly cautious when it came to sex.” he admitted. “I don’t remember much from back then, most of the times I was drugged up and fucking through everything that moved.”

This was, arguably, not the most pleasant conversation I had with my boyfriend, but it was raw, vulnerable and felt very honest, which I appreciated.

“What happened then?”

“There was a party Dan and I went to.” he said. “It was downtown, by the Old City Hall. A friend of his was having a birthday.”

“Was the party at a night club?”

“No, it was in a two-story penthouse apartment.” he remembered. “A bunch of spoiled rich kids, drugs and alcohol.”

“I see…”

“Dylan, I…” he stumbled, pushing my cup of tea across the granite countertop towards me. “Whatever I tell you, please just know that I’m a different person now… Will you promise me that?”

I wrapped my cold fingers around the cup, pulled it closer and looked at the rippling surface of burgundy-colored liquid.

“Yes, I promise.” I said.

He approached me, sat beside me at the bar stool and grabbed my hand again.

“Daniel slipped me pill, a hallucinogen.” he uttered, looking down. “I thought it was special K, but I think it was laced with something else.”

“Special K?”

“Ketamine. I took a pill after we had a few shots. Everyone was dancing, music was loud and when I got high, he dragged me to the bathroom.”

I felt the muscles in my back tensing up.

“When we got there, he kissed me.” Jake said.

“Oh…”

“It’s not like that… We weren’t dating or anything. He had a girlfriend, and at that time I considered myself mostly straight.”

“Mostly straight?..” I asked, trying to fit the concept in the endlessly expanding folder case of sexual orientations.

“Yeah, it took me a while to figure things out…” he smiled. “But it wasn't… I didn’t really take it well, when he did it.”

I furrowed my brows.

“I pushed him away, but he didn’t stop.” Jake said. “I was too stoned to think, couldn’t really control myself.”

“What happened?”

“He tried it again, I hit him. We had a fight.” Jake said, looking away, “I shoved him into the wall, he punched me a few times, and then I…”

I could see it was hard for him to go over it. No matter how open I was, he refused to look into my eyes.

“Jake…”

“I knocked him down, he fell and hit his head on the edge of the bathtub.” he finished.

His hands were shaking and it was now my turn to squeeze them.

“I was just sitting there, watching him bleed out on the tiles. I didn’t even freak out, I was too high to process what happened.” he said.

“Jake…”

“Dylan, I know what I did was terrible. You have every right to hate me…” he said quietly.

“I don’t hate you.” I uttered.

“You don’t have to lie to me.” he said.

“Jake I’m not lying.” I stressed. “It was just an accident. A fucked up, tragic accident...”

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into a hug, tilting the feet of my bar chair towards his. He gasped and hugged me even tighter.

“My parents cleaned things up.” he confessed. “They’ve dealt with his family and got the DA office to close my case. I spent a few months in rehab, got clean and I’ve been sober since.”

“I’m sorry…” I whispered.

“Please don’t hate me…”

“I don’t…” I whispered in his ear. “Thanks for telling me… I’m sorry I had to make you go through this again…”

A few hours later, I was laying in the bed, unable to fall asleep. It was 2 o’clock past midnight, the ticking of the wall clock pounded naggingly in my head, as I stared blankly at the ceiling. Jake’s hand was resting on my stomach, he was snoring quietly, sound asleep and naked after we finished having sex.

I was rewinding our conversation in my head, playing it back and forth, trying to figure out why it still wasn’t sitting well with me. He mentioned that only a few people knew about it - how was that possible at a party with so many people? Surely somebody must’ve walked in on him, passed out on drugs, next to Daniel’s body…

Some of the other things he mentioned made absolutely no sense either.

Take alcohol, for example. For a recovering drug addict and alcoholic, Jake was very comfortable with whiskey and beer on more than a few occasions.

I’m sure there was some truth in what he told me, but as I laid in his bed, I felt cold chills somewhere deep within my back, nudging me away from falling asleep, like an ominous sixth sense.

Making sure I won’t wake him up, I dragged my phone from under the pillow and sat on the edge of the bed. Jake’s pastel colored sheets felt, for once, too soft on my skin. I brought down the brightness of the screen and saw a message. A single line of text, hovering in the notification panel.

It was 2:30 am when I stepped outside. The streets were deserted and cold. Flashing red traffic lights were reflecting off the wet asphalt, as occasional cars drove over the puddles, disturbing somnolence of the night city. I wasn’t thinking straight, but I didn’t trust my mind anymore - I allowed my emotions guide my actions instead.

About half an hour later, I was standing in front of the copper gates. The Henderson mansion was enveloped in a layer of fog, moving slowly through their house, with a slight drizzle tickling the skin on my face and condensing into numerous tiny drops on metallic surface I was touching.

Liam was already waiting for me, standing behind the crossbars, wearing sweatpants and a white shirt, with his hands down in his pockets. As he opened the gates for me, I couldn’t find any strength to walk past them.

“Dylan…” he whispered, pulling me out of my trance.

The wet paving stones at the bottom of my feet felt like the edge of a ravine.

“I think he lied to me.”