Page 77 of Even in the Dark

Dylan:Sleeping and breathing are important. Got it.

Dr. Morley:Alright. You going to be okay tonight?

Dylan:Yeah.

Dr. Morley:You know you can call me again, right? Even if it’s just ten minutes from now, and you can’t seem to get stuff off your brain, you can call.

Dylan:Sure.

Dr. Morley:Perfect. Take care then, Dylan. Remember—call me again if you need to.

Dylan:Got it… Gonna go brush up on my breathing.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Scarlett

Dylan barely says a word on the drive to school, almost like he’s wary of me, which hurts after the moment we shared last night. Then he’s quiet and alone in the class I share with him in the morning. Quiet and alone at lunch. And in the car. When I was kind of hoping he would at least bring up Jays.Maybe suggest we swing by on the way home. But he doesn’t say a word, and I don’t mention it. After the bed incident last night, I’m even more aware of just how carefully I need to tread around him.

I glance at him as I pull into the driveway. “I’m not going to be at dinner tonight,” I say, putting the car into park.

He turns, his hand still on the handle poised to exit, and lifts an eyebrow. A couple of weeks ago, he would have just acted like he hadn’t heard me and stepped out of the car, shutting the door in my face. So this is progress, right?

“I have a date with Gavin,” I answer his unspoken question. “It’s our one-month anniversary.”

His reaction this time doesn’t give away his thoughts. All he does is swipe his tongue along his lower lip, nudging the silver hoop as he nods. Just once. That’s it—the one nod. And before I can say anything else, he turns back, pushes open the door and gets out. He disappears into his house before I’ve even collected my purse from the back seat.

Gavin is waiting for me on the grandiose curved front steps of the Welsford—a country club to Sandy Haven locals and famed five-star luxury ocean-front hotel to tourists wealthy enough to afford the hefty minimum two-thousand-dollar a night price tag.

He looks handsome.Dapper.In his navy blazer, checkered shirt and pressed khakis. The whole scene looks like a cover for the November issue of New England magazine—Gavin looking effortlessly classy and cool, leaning against a white column with the sprawling pale yellow Victorian inn stretching out behind him along the bluffs overlooking the crashing waves.

He grins when he spots me and makes his way down the steps to greet me. “You look stunning.” He kisses me, lingering for a moment before leaning back and adding, “As always.”

It sounds like a line. Even more so when he punctuates it with a wink.

I return his smile. “You look great, too.”

He does. In a glossy magazine cover kind of way. Probably the same kind of way I look.

We sit at a secluded table in the room off the main dining area with tall windows flanking the entire back wall overlooking the ocean. We peruse our menus. Make small talk. Order our main courses—the Lobster Carbonara special for Gavin. Chicken for me.

I’m not sure what it is—the venue or the stilted conversation or a combination of everything—but it all feels kind of… silly. Like we’re playing at being a couple. Nothing about it feels real, and the more aware I become of it, the less I can remember why this whole charade felt so necessary to me in the first place. And the less I can focus on what Gavin is saying instead of thinking about other things I’d rather be doing right now.

Like reading comics with Dylan in his room, taking breaks to discuss the unfolding plot ofSleepwalker.

“What’s your favorite thing about our relationship?” I set my fork on my plate.

Gavin’s eyes widen. The question took him off guard. It tookmeoff guard.

He rests his own fork on his plate, too, cocking his head to one side and curling his lips into a familiar grin. “My favorite part about our relationship?”

“Yes. Better yet, what are three things you like about our relationship?”

His eyes do the same dilating thing. “Okaaay,” he says, stretching the word out.

Pretty sure he’s buying time, and I’m not even annoyed at him for it. I’d be a hypocrite if I was, since I can’t come up with an answer myself. Not one that doesn’t highlight the fact that my relationship with Gavin is convenient and easy and requires zero personal vulnerability on either of our parts.

“My favorite thing about our relationship is the fact that I get to be with you,” Gavin finally croons, his grin stretching into a full-on smile that doesn’t quite conceal how pleased he is with himself for his all-encompassing answer, which really, is just another line. Good for him, though, for being quicker on the uptake than me. I’m still coming up blank.

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