43|| Formal Dinners are for Food

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Chapter 43: Formal Dinners are for Food


Okay, no inspirational stuff today. I just wanted to say I ate a cookie. It was a good cookie. Piece of advice: If there is ever a cookie in front of you, don't be afraid to eat it.


~Starlight24


"Hay Day," Mom said as I literally rushed into the house, collapsing onto my knees. I'd made the mistake of thinking my fractures were okay today and I'd walked around, but my legs were dying more than before.


"Hey," I said, offering her a wan smile. Today had been far too drama-filled for my liking. Dumb Dylan practically followed me around the school and I literally lived in the girl's bathroom. He probably got my message about the neighbor thing.


"You need to be ready by seven, okay?" she said, before gazing at my swollen leg. "I told you to go in your wheelchair, smarty pants," she said accusingly.


I shrugged and bit my lip. "Mother knows best?" I said, hesitantly. Tangled references always made life easier on everybody.


She cracked a smile at that. "Honey, we're going out for dinner, alright? Derrick has a new colleague, and we're going to have dinner with his family..." she paused and shot me a knowing smile. "You may want to dress well," she advised, before wriggling her eyebrows.


"What does that mean?" I asked, defensively. I was supposed to dress up for some new colleague? Nah... no can do.


"Just trust me," she winked, before strolling into the kitchen and laughing a little giddily.


I'd rather not.


*****


"I feel so gross," I complained, looking at myself in my phone using the front camera. "I feel so incredibly fake and dolled up. I don't feel the need to get so ready to see some random person."


Mom and Dad grinned. "Oh, they're not random, per say," Dad assured me, before shooting Mom a knowing smile. I groaned loudly. This had been going on for the past two hours. Dad would say something cryptic and Mom would grin, and the two of them would look at me all sly.


I then proceeded to excuse myself and wheel my way to the bathroom, where I really wanted to take off my dress and flush it down the toilet.


My reflection stared back at me, taunting me to scream or something. Trust me, I nearly did.


My hair was straightened and let loose across my shoulders over a strapless, blue satin dress. My mother had actually painted my face with what people these days called makeup, apparently.


Gross.


My legs jutted out of my short dress helplessly as if showing everyone that I was evidently unable to walk. I hated how absolutely awful I looked. I didn't even want to make an effort... I was in a bad mood to begin with, for crying out loud!


I wheeled myself back to where my parents were seated. "Why are we still waiting? Can I start eating?" I asked, and my stomach growled in response.


Mom stared at me like I was crazy. "No, that's incredibly rude!" she exclaimed. "The family is nearly here. The boy had some soccer practice, apparently."


Oh, maybe this was why Mom made me dress up, for some boy. Well, I was going to be off boys for a while. They never really worked with me.


"Formal dinners are for eating," I informed her wisely. Dad rolled his eyes.


Cue another boring five minutes with me playing with the napkins and making weird faces in the reflection of my spoon.


Then, Mom squealed in delight. "Linda, hello darling!" she exclaimed. I furrowed my brows. Linda sounded really familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it.


"Heather, it's so great to see you! You look lovely," this Linda lady gushed, and I turned around. This was the normal parent talk. Complement each other like there was no tomorrow.


When I saw the lady, my heart dropped to my feet.


It was Mrs. Daniels.


WHY OH WHY OH WHY OH WHY DID I HAVE THE MOST AWFUL LUCK IN THE WHOLE WIDE UNIVERSE!?


I turned and saw my dad and Mr. Daniels talking, and Dylan just standing there, pushing his ruffly hair out of his eyes.


I pinched myself, willing myself to wake up from this nightmare.


All I did was injure myself. Screw my life!


He saw me, and his eyes widened as he surveyed what I was wearing. If I could walk, I'd have gone up to him, slapped him in the face and walked away. Instead, I kind of pathetically wheeled my way towards him. "You knew, didn't you!?" I growled.


He was wearing a light blue button-up with his sleeves folded and a pair of jeans. His hair was purposely tousled as if he was trying to give off this 'I look great without trying' vibe. That doesn't mean he looked good. I mean, he did, but my judgement was clouded right now.


That means he didn't, but he kind of did.


What the heck is wrong with me?


"Um, yeah," he said, looking embarrassed. "Please, can we talk?" he pleaded, and I shook my head, stubbornly.


"Mom?" I called out. "I'm going to go eat. It's a thing people do when they go out for dinner," I snapped.


Mom turned red and faced Linda. "Sorry about her attitude. It's her time of the month, you see."


My face went red and Dylan laughed loudly, being the jerk that he was. Then he quickly concealed this with a cough, and stared at me apologetically.


I went to the buffet and served myself. Lucky for me, we'd come to the Marriot and at least there was an open space here where I could escape off to with the excuse of needing space and fresh air.


"Day, can we please talk? I'll push your wheelchair. I need to talk to you... please," he said, and he sounded so vulnerable it broke my heart.


"No," I said, biting my lip. "Things are just too unstable between us. I think it's better if we stopped talking altogether," I choked out.


Dylan looked like I took a chair and smashed it over his skull. "What?"


I nodded gravely.


Suddenly, something about his expression shifted. It turned into a smirk, like he was trying to simmer down his increasing mirth towards this situation. "Yes?" I snapped, looking at his weird grin warily.


"Oh, nothing," he said, smoothly. "I was just thinking about how right you were. Of course we shouldn't talk. Silly me," he said, shrugging.


Um... okay, then? That was just plain weird.


I wonder what Popcorned would have said about this situation. He would have probably felt jealous and teased me a bit, and then he would have—


Right. He would have also been standing right there, begging to talk to me. This was a sorry situation.


Suddenly, I remembered how Popcorned- Dylan had told me that his dad got a new job, and the partner was his female friend's Dad. I remember being so darn pissed and jealous.


Then I'd told him about how I had a male friend too... Dylan.


We'd used each other to make each other jealous? How weirdly bizarre was that, honestly? 


Then, I proceeded to wheel my way back to the table, still seething. Why was Dylan so happy about not talking? Then again, this was a good thing, right? Then why did I feel so bad? And why was I trying to freaking convince myself that I didn't?


"Hey," he said, sliding into the seat right opposite mine. "What's up, Snowflake?"


He was saying this very loudly, and I felt the stares of all the parents on us.


"Aw," cooed Mom. "Snowflake? That's such a cute nickname," she said, grinning broadly at Linda.


What? Mom was usually so against boys. What made Dylan so different?


Oh, right, he happened to be the son of my dad's partner. We were probably power couple material or something. Not that I wanted that to happen or anything. I just thought it would make sense hypothetically. If we didn't hate each other, that is.


Whatever.


"Nothing much," I replied, cautiously, before stuffing my face with the salads I'd piled up. I just genuinely liked salads, okay?


Dylan grinned, showing off his adorable... his godforsaken, gross dimples. "Someone called... Starlight, I think, told me you liked salads," he informed, and my face burned.


What was he doing!?


"Um, yeah, she's right, I guess," I mumbled, crunching on a croton.


"Yeah, she's awesome, you know that?" he pushed, and I squeezed my eyes shut.


"I'm going for my second course," I squeaked out, leaving the table.


WHAT. WAS. WRONG. WITH. THIS. MENTALLY. CHALLENGED. BOY!? Was he trying to make this the most awkward dinner of my life?


"Hey," Dylan said again, and I yelped.


"Why are you following me around? I thought we decided not to talk!" I hissed.


He shrugged. "I'm not asking for you to talk to me about anything serious. I'm just trying to hold a normal conversation with you. You're the one making things hard, Snowflake."


My jaw dropped to the floor. The gall of this man was incredible.


"I am going back to the table," I informed him, after piling my plate up with pasta.


"Wait, let me help you," he offered graciously.


"Please don't," I scoffed, but he'd already begun to push my wheelchair towards the table.


"Why thank you," said Dad. "How come you did that, son?"


Oh, so Dylan had been upped to the son status. What would he do when he was son-in-law?


WAIT WHAT!? Okay that was a repulsive thought.


"Oh, I just thought Day here might want some help, so I went to aid her. She's so strong, handling all this alone, isn't she, Derrick?" he asked. What a frickin' suck up.


And also, since when did my dad ever allow anyone but his friends and my mom to call him Derrick?


"Oh, definitely. And she's sure lucky to have such considerate friends," Mom gushed, smiling at him widely. Okay, this fawning needed to stop.


"Hey, don't you think our friendship is a little like the song, make up?" he asked suddenly, looking at me.


"By R-City?" I asked, incredulous. What was wrong with him?


He nodded. "You know, look at the lyrics!"


Linda beamed. "What are the lyrics, Dylan?" she asked, sweetly.


My face looks like the offspring of a beetroot and a tomato.


"Well," he said with a sigh. "The first line says 'I love it when we fight just to make up. Funny how bad words turn to—"


I kicked him right in the shin. "Hey, Dylz," I said, gritting my teeth both out of anger because of his insolence and because of how much kicking him had hurt my own foot. Dang it. "What about that walk you wanted to have? I don't know about you, but I'm getting kind of claustrophobic!"


The parents all looked at me weirdly.


"What's the next line?" Mom asked, out of curiosity.


Before Dylan could say it, I blurted out, "Funny how bad words turn to having fun," I said, feeling my whole face heat up to the burn of the damn sun.


"Having fun?" Dylan said, laughing. "Well, if you put it that way..."


"That walk. I really need it, right about now," I ordered, and he laughed, trying to act all good-natured and paint me as the PMSing little brat.


"Okay, okay... Your Highness," he joked, putting his hands in the air.


"Day!" Mom said, looking appalled by my behavior. "Be nice!"


"It's alright, Heather," Dylan said, grinning. "I have to deal with this all the time!"


Dylan really wasn't helping his case.


"Can we leave?" I said through gritted teeth.


He smiled and wheeled my out. Once we were out of earshot, he burst out laughing. "Holy shit, that was priceless," he said, tears streaming down his face.


"No it wasn't!" I said, stricken. "You are the most irritating, cocky, horribly annoying asshole I've ever met!"


"Ah, but I'm your favorite asshole, right?" he asked, pinching my cheek.


"No, my favorite one is the one on my own body," I said, before widening my eyes. What the hell!? Who in the world even said that?


He burst out laughing after a bit of a weird pause. "Sure, whatever you say," he said, grinning.


"I hate you so much," I whispered, burying my face in my hands in embarrassment.


"Wait, we need to talk," he said, biting his lip and facing me, bending down on his knees and taking both of my cold hands in his own. The pool was right next to the wheelchair and there was grass around us.


"What?" I asked, too tired to argue with this persistent soul anymore.


"You know what," he said, sounding irritated but dejected.


"Is it about the fact that I like you as Dylan, or that I like you as Popcorned?" I asked, before I could stop myself. He looked like a lightbulb.


"You like me?" he asked, sounding like an excited little puppy.


"I have for a while now," I said, rolling my eyes. "You probably have zero feelings for me but whatever." I paused. "Nah, you love me. Pretty hard not to."


Dylan shut his eyes tight as if he had to physically stop himself from bursting. "Are you kidding me? I ask for a serious discussion, and this is what I get?"


I raised my eyebrows. "Do I look like I'm joking? I'm just stating facts, Daniels."


He looked plain tired now. "I need to use the bathroom. Stay right here," he ordered, and I rolled my eyes.


"Sure, say it like the disabled girl had any other choice," I spat sarcastically.


Suddenly, just as I saw him leave, a random boy jumped in front of me. I blinked.


"Hey," he said, grinning. He wasn't exactly in Dylan's league in terms of looks, but he had a cute-ish face with curly brown hair and freckles scattered across his face. "Day, right?"


Oh, something to get my mind off Dylan would be great. "Yeah! What's your name?" I asked, smiling widely as he sat across from me on his knees.


He was gangly with glinting, brown eyes and a snubbed nose, but an okay jawline. "I'm Ian. I've been dying to talk to you, gorgeous," he crooned, placing a hand on my neck.


"Uh, okay?" I asked, starting to feel kind of uncomfortable. "Do I know you?"


He grinned lazily and began playing with the strap of my dress. "Yeah," he confirmed. "I'm in your school. Your gym clothes are smoking."


I wrinkled my eyebrows. My gym clothes consisted of spandex shorts and a short tee. "They're really not," I said, feeling confused.


"Yeah, but you look hot in anything," he said, breathing down-literally- my neck.


Okay, I needed Dylan NOW.


"Um, I know," I said, pushing him away or at least trying to, but he was practically trying to press himself up against me.


"Even your voice is hot. It's a pity your legs have to be stuck in that cast, huh? They look so much better when you stretch them out," he said, before running his hands down.


I felt so helpless. I actually began to find tears prick the sides of my eyes. "Please stop," I blurted, my voice watery.


"Ah, you don't want me to," he said, before leaning down and kissing me straight on the mouth.


With that, I weakly pushed him away, but he pressed up against me even harder and began flicking his tongue out, causing me to cry out in pain. I felt so utterly hopeless in this wheelchair as his hands begun to roam around, and I flinched like his touch burned me.


I felt him grip me tighter and an indignantly pathetic squeak escaped my lips, and then the tears went down freely. "Please, leave me alone," I said, too weak to do anymore.


"Tell me you enjoy it," he said, shaking my shoulders roughly.


"N-no," I said, feeling my tears splash against my collarbone.


"Tell me you enjoy it, you little bitch!" he ordered, and I felt myself being shook again, more violently this time. "TELL ME YOU—"


Suddenly, I felt him get ripped off my body and a very, very angry Dylan glaring at him. "HOW MANY DAMN TIMES AM I GOING TO TELL YOU TO GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY GIRL!?"


He looked livid, and I was too grossed out and kind of devastated to call him out for calling me his. Then, something struck me.


"H-how many t-times has he tried to come near me?" I asked, hiccupping a little as Dylan pinned him to the ground, the veins on his arms popping out dangerously.


"Since the second week of school," Dylan growled, still holding onto a fistful of Ian's t-shirt.


"Let go of me," Ian said, trying to sound buff but kind of failing.


"Oh yeah? Well, I'm guessing this was how Day felt when you didn't let go of her, you little prick!" he said, before crashing a punch straight at his jaw.


After that, things were a blur of blood, yelling and a lot of punching noises. "What the hell is going on here?" came a voice from one of the guards.


"Get this perverted jackass out of this place before I do it for you," Dylan said, shoving a very injured Ian in front of their faces. Dylan's eye was swollen and rapidly turning blue, while Ian was just whimpering.


"Yes, just take me out," Ian pleaded, before the guards could interject. They just shrugged and took him out, and I broke down all over again.


Dylan immediately ran towards me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me forward in my wheelchair so that I was now on his lap. "It's okay, it's okay," he whispered, stroking my hair. "He's gone now, and I'll protect you if he ever comes back," he promised, kissing my temples.


"He touched me," I choked out, feeling my body still feel tainted by his roaming hands that had pressed against my various parts. 


He visibly tensed up, but then he held me tighter. "I'm here, it's okay," he whispered.


"How long did you stop him?" I asked, curious as I stared up at him with my watery eyes.


"Since the very beginning... when you first joined," he confessed, before turning a bit red. "Hey, um... sorry about calling you my girl and stuff. I mean, I just said it so the jerk left you alone. I kind of just—"


I cut him off by kissing him, and pressing him against me with as much force as I could. I could taste my own tears as they traced their way down my face and into my mouth. I could taste his blood on his open cut across his lip. More than that, I could taste the physical pain of being away from him. We held each other tight, me gripping his back and him carefully holding my head so that my already broken legs didn't get injured further.


Gods, I missed Dylan so much.


He reluctantly pulled away, and I could see the dazed but happy expression swimming in his eyes. "But... what about the stuff we had to talk about?" he asked, looking lost.


I smiled, my head going cloudy as well. "Screw that," I said, unable to stop my watery grin from spreading across my face. "I love you."


I hadn't expected it to have popped out of my mouth like that, but I hadn't uttered truer words. Here was the boy that had ruthlessly protected me from everyone. The boy who had stood by me during the harshest of times when I was bullied to the ground. Who cared about the past problems we'd had? The fact was that he'd come by me and never left.


I loved him for that.


With that, his whole face transformed and he hoisted me in the air. "I love you, too," he whispered, before kissing me all over again.


The moment was magical. He was smiling against my mouth the whole time, and I'm sure I wasn't any different during the whole ordeal. This was the best thing that had happened to me in a while.


Then, I couldn't take it any longer. It was always the guy asking the girl out, right? Why was that so sexist? I was Day June Winters, and I prided myself over defying logic.


"Hey," I said, pulling away. He made a pathetic little whine and pouted at me, and I realized how swollen his lips were. Either that was because of me or Ian. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?"


He stared at me for a while. "But I had this whole thing planned out!" he eventually said after looking shell-shocked.


I grinned, feeling touched. "But I love you, and I can't wait," I said, sticking my tongue out at him.


He smiled. "Wait a second," he promised, but then, all of a sudden, he hoisted me up and tripped.


And we both fell right into the water.


"AH!" I squealed, feeling my whole dress balloon under me.


"Shit, are you okay? What about your leg!?" Dylan asked, rushing towards me. I kissed him again, anyway.


"I'm okay," I promised, pushing my rapidly curling wet hair out of my eyes. "What did you want to do?" I asked, amused.


"Get you a dessert or something," he admitted, turning red. "I feel bad not having anything to give you!"


I giggled, still not believing this moment was true. It seemed so surreal. "It's okay," I said. "You're practically my knight in shining armor anyway," I teased, poking his cheek.


"I'll be your knight forever," he said, hugging me tight before carrying me and placing me gingerly on the ledge above the pool.


"Forever is an awfully long time," I remarked, as he sat up next to me, our feet dangling in the water.


"It's a chance I'm willing to take," he said, and he turned to me. I was caught off-guard by how breathtakingly beautiful this boy in front of me was, both inside and out. His hair was still messy, but it was wet as well (obviously). His green eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and his shirt was soaked through.


"Me too," I whispered, before intertwining my fingers with his as he placed me in my wheelchair and we headed back into the restaurant.


The parents took one good look at us and Mom gasped, her hand flying to her mouth dramatically. "What on Earth just happened!?" she exclaimed.


"Trust me, it's too long to explain," I said, trying to sound annoyed but I was too giddy to be anything but overjoyed. So what if today had its flaws? So what if Ian was a jerk? All's well that ends well, I suppose. And this day had been a story of its own, and in my opinion, it had ended pretty darn well.


"Day, what happened? You're grinning like a Cheshire cat," Dad pointed out. Linda and Mr. Daniels (I'm not sure what his name is. I think it's Jonah) were just giving Dylan weird looks.


I turned to Mom and playfully rolled my eyes. "I'm on my period," I joked. "I tend to get a little moody."


Dylan smiled. "Now, if you'll excuse us," he said, before pulling me away and whispering in my ear. "How about that dessert I promised? I heard the cheesecake here is to die for."


I grinned, and I turned to him and smiled. "Anything sounds good. I'm game if you're game," I said, holding his hand again. I was probably coming off as this super clingy girl who literally gave the guy no space, but I didn't care. "Wait... what about my question? You still didn't answer. Will you be my boyfriend?" I asked again, squeezing my eyes shut. Yes, it was highly unlikely that he'd decline, but I was still kind of nervous.


He turned and looked down at me, his eyes practically glazed over with love. Then, he finally said something that made my heart soar. "I'm game if you're game," he said, smiling widely.


"I've never been so sure about anything in a while," I confessed, kissing his hand lightly.


"You can always be sure of me," he said, and then he wheeled me away so that we could both attack the dessert counter like there was going to be no tomorrow. 


A/N:



Another beautiful cover by @shinebeam ^^ THANK YOU SO MUCH ILYYY x


Hello! 


Gosh, that was a long chapter. Not as long as last time but still pretty long. I'm pretty proud of it if I say so myself *proud smirk* You have NO idea how much I've wanted to write that... it's kinda been my most highly anticipated chapter so far!


Also, if you didn't understand the "make up" song bit, listen to it >>


So, how did you like it? Ian? Dylan? Day? The dinner in general? The chapter?


Random question: If you had a secret account, would you tell anyone about it?


Also, just so you all know, there will probably be two-three chapters left, and that's it. I'll be including an epilogue and another bonus chapter at the end. Also, I hope you all know that there will be NO SEQUEL. I'm telling you all again =)


Chapter dedicated to wanderflames because she wrote the sweetest message on my wall =) Thanks again! x


Teaser: The Dylay is over xD


Kayy... have a great Day ahead :P


Song of the Day: Make up by R-City ft. Chloe Angelides 


Love you all,


~Lexiiiiiii



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