Page 117 of Even in the Dark

“Because of Eli?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you scared ofme?”

He laughs. A low, gruff noise that makes him sound so much older than seventeen. “At first, yeah. You scared the shit out of me.”

“I don’t know if I should feel flattered or offended.”

He flinches. “Youshouldn’t feel anything. I’m the one who should feel embarrassed.”

“Don’t feel embarrassed. Ever. Okay?”

He does that same gruff laugh again. “You want me to promise never to be embarrassed about anything ever again?”

“Okay, yeah.” I chuckle. “That was kind of a big ask.”

“Kinda.”

“What about now? Are you still ever scared of me?”

He shifts his body, ducking his head in front of my face so I can see the way he’s arching his eyebrows at me, telling me, “seriously?”

“So, that’s a no?”

“That’s a no.” His fingers pause in my hair again. “Are you asking because of how… the way I get weirded out sometimes with physical stuff? Fooling around?”

“No!”I laugh nervously. “I mean… maybe? I don’t know. I guess I want to know if there’s ever anything I do that makes you uncomfortable, or pushes buttons that trigger whatever freaks you out. Because I’d feel really bad if I found out I was and I didn’t know.”

“It’s never anything you do. It’s just Eli’s voice sometimes… I hear it in my head. Stuff he said, it’ll mess me up. Even though I know it’s fucked up or wrong or makes no sense… it still messes with me sometimes.” He blows out a long breath. “Shit… I sound crazy, huh?”

“I swear you don’t sound crazy.”

“Sure.”

“I swear.”

He goes back to playing with my hair and it gives me the courage to ask, “What did Eli tell you about women that made you so scared of them?”

“Just… none of it makes sense. It’s complicated. He was messed up in the head. Like, legitimately crazy... It was all this talk about women being manipulative and using their looks and stuff to reel you in and shit.”

“Reel you in for what reason, though? To do what?”

“That’s the thing," he practically whispers. "He never told me.” Dylan rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, the dull glint of the hoop disappearing momentarily. “And I was never allowed to ask. He lost it the worst he’s ever lost it on me the one time I did. Said if I didn’t know, then I was halfway reeled in and weak for not resisting.” His teeth worry his lip ring again. “And hearing all the time about how conniving women could be to lure you in—but not knowing what they’d do to you if they succeeded—that was the worst part about it. Made you imagine the worst. Keepyou awake for hours some nights, if a woman had smiled at you that day or talked to you. Or fuck—if a girltouchedyou."

God, I hate Eli Sampson so much for how he messed with Dylan’s head. “That sounds really horrible,” is what I tell him, though. I know the one thing he hates even more than talking about Eli Sampson, is when other people talk about him.

“Yeah. Sounds insane when I talk about it now. But took me years to start realizing that stuff was all batshit crazy talk. Didn’t fully realize it until…. I guess until really recently. I still hate thinking about it, though. Any of that stuff from before.”

“Then we won’t talk about it anymore,” I tell him, squeezing him lightly with the arm slung over his torso. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have asked. I just… I get scared sometimes that I’m going to do something that will feed into those fears or secrets or whatever. And I figured maybe if I know them, I won’t be as likely to do that.”

He’s quiet for a moment. Then says, “I get that… Should maybe tell you, then—it’s fucking embarrassing but I’m uh… I'm sort of bad with… the dark. Like, when you can’t see ’cos it’s pitch black—I’m not good with that.”

“Like that time in the theater,” I say. “When you left, and you were sitting on the floor of the lobby?”

“You knew?”

“Mmhm.”

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