Page 100 of Even in the Dark

I continue, “And I’ll do the same for you. I’ll be your trusty badass sidekick during your battles. The Robin to your Batman. The Starlite to your Rainbow Brite. The Tweety to your Syl—”

“Think I got it.”

“The Kryptonite to your Superman.” I grin, on a roll now. “The Speedy to your Arrow. The Patrick to your Sponge—”

“You’re gonna lose your wingman pretty soon,” he warns.

“You want me to stop?” I feign confusion.

“Like five examples ago.” He finally cracks a grin. “Also, you need to brush up on your comic book trivia. Kryptonite is a mineral thatkillsSuperman if he’s exposed to too much of it. And Tweety and Sylvester are enemies. Literally the opposite of sidekicks.”

I roll my eyes. “God, I hope you won’t be this nitpicky the whole time you’re my sidekick.”

“Just want to make sure we have the same definition of a sidekick. For a second there, it sounded like you might want to flatten my ass into the ground, with the whole kryptonite thing.”

I sigh. “Okay, we’ll scrap the Superman and Tweety examples, then. The others still stand.”

“Cool.” He twists his hand so all five of his fingers curl around mine.

“Cool.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Scarlett

Amonth passes in what feels like the blink of an eye. The weeks pass not in days, but in mundane car conversations, unexpected blowups, Dylan stalking off… coming back, glimmers of vulnerabilities, evenings spent in the window seat watching for his silhouette on the sunken steps. Relief when it’s not there. Tears when it is. Whispered late night talks, yelling matches, sometimes laughter. Joint family dinners, pop quizzes, presentations, weekend afternoons with Seb and Caro and the rest of the crew sprawled out on the cushy L-shaped couch by Xavier’s indoor pool or hanging in his games room. Sometimes with Dylan. Sometimes not. Hours lounging in beanbags at Jays, comic book plot discussions, disagreements. Check-in calls from Phil—less frequent than they were a month ago, but still way more than is normal for a parent of a seventeen-year-old. Dylan’s first snowfall, first Imax movie, first time answering a question in class, first detention. His first fist fight at SH Prep, first two-day suspension, first time trying hot chocolate.Maple syrup. Toblerone. My first time wearing sweatpants to school, first time reading a comic in public—in the dining hall at lunch. My first hug from Dylan, first double-date with people I actually like. First sleepover with Jackie in over two years. Dylan’s second detention, third time answering a question in class—and getting it right. Fourth time not pulling away when Diane greets him with a hug. Crazy parties, reading comics in Dylan’s bedroom—on his bed. Hand holding, heads resting against arms, chins resting on shoulders. Comfortable silences. Butterflies in our stomachs and chests and unspoken words flickering between our drawn out gazes. Because more and more, I can tell what Dylan is thinking just from his eyes. And he can do the same with me.

So many firsts and seconds and thirds that four weeks feels like a lifetime, but also like no time at all.

Chapter Thirty-Four

SESSION TRANSCRIPT #19 – Dylan Braun

Treating therapist: Dr. Stuart Morley

Dr. Morley:Your burger and fries, sir.

Dylan:Thanks… You’re not having one today?

Dr. Morley:My wife’s got me on a diet. She's worried because I gained ten pounds over the fall.

Dylan:No offense, but your wife sounds like a buzzkill.

Dr. Morley:Ah, but guess who’s going to be the buzzkill if I die early of heart disease?

Dylan:Fair point.

Dr. Morley:So… It’s been almost two months since you moved back to Sandy Haven.

Dylan:Seriously?

Dr. Morley:Yessir. Does it feel like less than that? Or more?

Dylan:Depends on the day… [chuckles] The hour.

Dr. Morley:[laughs] I get that… If you had to rate, though—from one to ten—how the past two months have been overall, what number would you say?

Dylan:Uhh… I guess maybe… four or five?

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