Page 17 of See You in Your Dreams

I scowl at his bad impression. “I didnotsound like that.”

“Close enough. How is the little furball anyway? Did your aunt let you keep her?”

As I’d expected, Aunt Claudette had taken to the kitten right away, cooing over it the instant I returned from the vet’s. Beforethe weekend was over, she had a litter box set up in one corner of the cramped kitchen, a ludicrously tall cat tree perched by the television, and piles of toys scattered everywhere as tripping hazards. Thankfully, the kitten was already house trained—some asshole must’ve abandoned it before I’d come along—but I feared for the continued safety of my aunt’s more fragile knickknacks.

“The cat’s fine,” I mutter, ignoring the rest of his question. No reason to give him more excuses to look smug. “Besides, my reaction was different. I was just being honest.”

“Or maybeyoudon’t see yourself clearly either,” he counters. Little flecks of gold glitter in his eyes, his unruly mop of hair falling over his forehead.

It takes me a concerted effort not to stare. Swallowing, I face forward again and see Ms. Pederson finishing up her notes. “Whatever.”

I’m saved the need to listen to his response by Ms. Pederson calling the class to order. Fifty minutes later, I’ve heard about as much on inflation as I can stand. I shove my things in my bag and start for the classroom door.

Next up is lunch, which will at least be a welcome break. Maybe I’ll even start a new sketch today. Nothing like still-life to lull you into a peaceful daze. I’m a few steps out the door and into the hall before I realize I’m not alone.

“So, does she have a name yet?” Dylan asks. His hands grip his backpack’s shoulder straps where they cross his chest.

So much for being saved by the bell.

“No.”

He’s giving me such an incredulous look that he almost collides with a girl hurrying past us down the hall. “Seriously? Who spends an entire weekend with a pet and doesn’t give it a name?”

“She’s not my pet! She’s…” I pause, unsure how to finish that thought. Instead, I switch tact. “You seem weirdly invested in an animalyoudidn’t want either.”

Something in his expression shutters, and he stares down at his feet as he walks. Guilt floods me. Just because I don’t want him bothering me doesn’t mean I want to make him feel like shit either. I’m on the verge of apologizing when he finally speaks.

“My house isn’t exactly conducive to supporting a pet right now.”

Despite myself, I’m curious. “What do you mean?”

“Well, my mom works long hours and so does my older brother, so they wouldn’t really be able to help out. And my own schedule’s so packed, what with school, my shifts at the vet, and chores around the house.” He shrugs. “Taking care of a pet would be one thing too many.”

I get the feeling he’s holding something back, but I don’t push. After all, he’s not the only one with secrets.

Dylan visibly reins in his emotions, plastering on a smile. “We used to have a dog, though. I’d love to have another…someday. What about you, oh hater of life?”

I roll my eyes. “I never said Ihatedlife. Just that I shouldn’t be responsible for it.”

Dylan opens his mouth, then cuts off as a pack of guys in school jerseys shove past us, laughing and calling out to one another. I briefly lose Dylan in the crowd and find myself slowing down to scan for him.

What the hell are you doing? You should be taking this opportunity to escape.

I hesitate, my stomach twisting. I’m still standing there uncertainly when Dylan emerges from the crowd.

He breaks into a wide grin when he sees me. “You waited.”

“We all make mistakes,” I mutter, starting down the hall with long strides.

He hurries to keep up, his heavy backpack thwacking against his back with each step. “So, okay, you don’t hate animals. Does that mean you had pets growing up?”

An image of the Ellingtons’ immaculately kept house flashes before my eyes, and I snort. “Hardly. My grandmother would’ve been horrified at the prospect of all that hair on her precious carpets. Besides, what would her esteemed guests think? How uncouth of her.”

Dylan chuckles. “I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone use the word ‘uncouth’ in a sentence.”

“I was being ironic.”

He shakes his head, grinning. “If you say so.” His grin fades slightly. “So, is that where you lived? Before moving here, I mean?”