Dylan (Inked Brotherhood 4)
Page 4
I shake my head. “But what if they’re right? What if I should eat more?”
“Girl, you eat like a guy, I swear. I mean, just compare ou
r trays!”
I glance at hers. It contains a sandwich with light turkey ham and cheese, and a bottle of water. Mine has the pasta, salad, a cheesecake cup and a Coke.
“Okay, fine. But I have a high metabolism. Maybe I am skinny, and I have no curves. Not like yours.”
She grimaces. “God. Your parents really did a number on you, didn’t they?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I lift my fork and stab a lettuce leaf.
“Yes, you do. You’re perfect, and changing your looks won’t give you what you need. Stop looking for excuses.”
“But maybe if I was curvier…”
“Tess.” Audrey’s eyes are too bright. Crap. She looks like she’s about to cry. “Let go.”
“What? I’m only saying maybe I should eat more.”
“Let him go, Tess.” Audrey bites her lip and looks down at her plate. “Jesus, don’t you see what you’re doing? Dressing up for your parents and studying what they want, then trying to change yourself to please Dylan, and neither your parents nor Dylan give a fuck!”
My fork drops from my fingers and clatters on the tray. I gape at Audrey. She never talks like that. Never.
In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so angry before.
“Stop chasing him,” she continues. “Stop expecting your parents to take notice of your efforts and accept you as you are. People don’t change.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I whisper. “Your mom loves you as you are. Ash can’t look anywhere but at you when you’re close by. Is it wrong to wish that, too?”
Now she looks stricken. “I’m sorry.” She grabs her water bottle and unscrews the lid, not looking at me. “I’ve no right to tell you what to do.”
“No, Aud.” I reach across the table and put my hand over hers. “You’re right.” I nod, and my eyes burn. “You’re absolutely right, and I’ll try harder, okay?”
“No. Dammit.” She jerks away, her cheeks so red her freckles look like ink dots. “Not for me, too, okay? You don’t get to do it to please me, too. You need to do it for yourself.”
“Aud…”
“Honestly, Tess. This isn’t funny. You’re gorgeous. Every single guy on campus wants to get into your pants.” Audrey counts her arguments on her fingers, one by one. “You have so many interests, archaeology, folklore, mythology, history. You’re fun, and can dance like a goddess.”
She stops counting and wags a finger at me. “You rock, woman. Don’t let anyone, and especially your parents, tell you otherwise. Decide what you want to do with your life, with yourself. Would you rather finish your studies and work for your dad, doing every day something you hate? Would you rather wait forever for Dylan to notice you while the world is full of wonderful boys waiting to meet you? Would you?”
Christ. Is she right? Am I really wasting my life? Have I waited too long already?
Then again, how long is too long? I’ve struggled to please my parents since I was little. I tried to get Dylan to notice me since I was ten, when I discovered boys. Even more since he went out with me for a few months, showed me what happiness was like and then dumped me and never looked back.
Ignoring me, just like my parents have always done. Yeah, seen like that, it really looks pathetic. Why, then, have I always felt, deep inside, that he has feelings for me?
“Speak of the devil…” Audrey frowns, and I twist around to see.
Sure enough, there is Dylan, and like always my breath catches at the sight of him. He’s standing at the cashier, clutching his tray, his dirty blond hair falling in his face. His broad shoulders stretch the soft black sweater he’s wearing tight across his chest, and his faded blue jeans hug his trim hips and long legs.
He turns toward the tables and takes a step—then he stumbles, and his plate falls and crashes to the floor.
I’m already halfway out of my seat, fear clenching my gut, to go to him—when a brunette in a miniskirt walks up to him and puts a hand on his arm. He says something to her, lost in the din of the cafeteria, and she smiles, hooks her arm with his and walks with him to a table.
I sit back down, my heart hammering. Holy crap. I really thought he’d hurt himself for a moment… I look at the brunette, the way she keeps brushing herself against him as she talks to him.