Page 120 of Even in the Dark

Dylan:Man, if I’d known you were this easy to please, I woulda just got you a pack of gum.

Dr. Morley:[laughs] You just had to ruin the moment.

Dylan:Smartass, remember?

Dr. Morley:Hard to forget, with that mouth of yours.

Dylan:So, you gonna ask me how my weekend was, one to ten?

Dr. Morley:How was your weekend, Dylan? One to ten?

Dylan:Fuckin’ ten out of ten.

Dr. Morley:Ten out of ten! Cripes, you’re going to make me cry again.

Dylan:Yeah, don’t.

Dr. Morley:So, ten out of ten? Tell me about this amazing weekend.

Dylan:I kicked a bunch of people’s asses playing pool Friday night. Taught Chloe how to do an olly in the garage. Also… I may have kissed Scarlett.

Dr. Morley:You kissed Scarlett?And you didn't lead withthat?

Dylan:Honestly, it’s a little weird telling you this kind of shit.

Dr. Morley:Not weird at all. I’m one of the few people who know what a huge deal this is.

Dylan:I guess, yeah.

Dr. Morley:So, you really like this girl.

Dylan:No, I’m still undecided, but I just thought I’d shove my tongue down her throat… Shit, yeah, I like her.

Dr. Morley:Well, I’m happy for you.

Dylan:I’m pretty fucking happy for me, too.

Chapter Forty-Four

Scarlett

Ican’t read Dylan’s mood when he walks out of his therapist’s office, but I know enough to tread lightly. That sometimes the sessions get heavy and bring stuff up that drain him. Make him go quiet and disappear inside himself for hours. For days sometimes. But he always comes back out of it seeming more at peace. A little more willing to accept that maybe things won’t be this hard forever.

I’ve never picked Dylan up right from a session before. Honestly, we’re both shocked Phil was okay with me driving him today, so we could head into the city afterwards to do something fun together, just the two of us. A date.

“Do you want to talk about anything? About your session with your therapist?” I ask kind of nervously once he’s folded his tall body into the passenger seat.

I know he hates talking about stuff when he comes over a couple hours after his sessions. But he literally just walked out the door. He could be upset right now.

Shit, I wish I’d asked him before how this usually plays out, so I don’t do or say the wrong thing. I hope there aren’t any landmines he forgot to tell me about.

“Hard no,” he says, letting his head fall back against the headrest. He combs his fingers through his hair and the waves fall back over his forehead.

“You want to go do something totally brainless, then? Spend way too much money on hokey, probably rigged arcade games, then eat so much junk food we feel sick?

“Hard yes.”

I smile. “You’re going to love this place. They have one of those claw machines that costs four bucks a pop for a shot at getting a plush My Little Pony that probably cost twenty-five cents to make.”

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