Page 27 of See You in Your Dreams

He takes back his sketchbook and studies the image again, some of the coiled tension leaking out of him. “Thanks,” he mutters, not meeting my eyes. “I guess when you spend a lot of time on your own, you get pretty good at observing the world around you.”

I can’t stand the faint hint of melancholy in his voice, so I bump my shoulder against his. His attention snaps back to me.

“Well, you’re not alone now,” I say.

“No. I guess I’m not.” He holds my gaze, and I’m pretty sure the heat I see building there isn’t only on my end. I’m suddenly reminded of how close we’re sitting. It would be so easy to lean forward and bridge the few inches between us, pressing my lips to—

“Hi, Ash!”

The shouted greeting jolts me out of my momentary insanity, and I jerk back. Ash blinks, his expression shuttering as we turn in unison to see Greta waving at us.

I chuckle as she vanishes around the side of the building, seeming unbothered Ash hadn’t waved back. “Looks like I’m not the only friend you’ve made here after all. I’m impressed.”

Ash grimaces. “She isnotmy friend! She just seems to have made it her personal mission in life to bother me.” He gives me a significant look. “Like a certain someone else I know.”

“Guess she got the same memo I did,” I reply with a smirk. Staring after Greta, my face grows serious. “Though, would it really be so bad if she was? I’ve known Greta since sixth grade, and she’s pretty nice. You should give her a chance.”

Distantly, I hear the obnoxious buzz of the bell signaling the end of lunch. Ash huffs and crumples up his lunch bag, tossing it in his backpack along with his sketchbook. “Whatever. So far as I’m concerned, I’ve already more than met my friend quota for the year.”

As if suddenly realizing what he’d said, his hand freezes. His gaze flicks to me for no more than a split second, but I can tell by the way his lips tighten that he caught my wide grin at his slip.

He quickly resumes packing up, hurrying to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Shoving away my own stuff, I rise and follow him toward the building. With every step, I feel like I’m walking on Cloud Nine. Ash can be as grumpy as he wants, but the signs are all there, and now I have a confession straight from his mouth. Despite his best efforts to resist or push me away, Ash has officially become my friend.

eleven

Ash

After our impromptu Mondaylunch, the rest of the week passes in a blur. Soon enough, it’s Friday afternoon and I’m propped against the school gate, waiting for Dylan to emerge.

It had been both relieving and terrifying to finally give into hanging out with him. When I’d approached him at lunch on Monday, I’d only planned to apologize for being a dick at my aunt’s. Sitting with him at lunch? Inviting him over on Friday? Those had both just sort of happened.

I’d spent a good chunk of Monday evening after school freaking out before resigning myself to the fact that the damage had already been done. Besides, keeping my distance doesn’t mean I need to avoid him entirely. Maybe the best way to get him out of my system is to allow a controlled fix.

And I’ve certainly been doing plenty ofthatover the past week. Our lunchtimes out under the tree have become a regular habit. Most of the time, he’ll work on homework while I doodle, but it’snice to have someone else around. To feel like I’m not quite so alone.

He’d brought up the prospect of eating with his friends again only once.

“Hard pass,” I’d replied.

“If we keep hanging out, you’re going to have to meet them eventually,” Dylan had teased.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I’d muttered back. Letting even one person past my guard the way I had Dylan is already riskier than I’ve been since Harvey—riskier than I have any right to be.

Other times, we talk. About school, mostly, but sometimes Dylan talks about his family. I know his mom works too much, and he’s got two brothers—one younger that he adores and an older one he doesn’t seem too keen on.

I know he dreams of being a vet and loves animals. He’s also full to bursting of random animal facts. That’s how I learn that a group of flamingos is called a flamboyance, kangaroos can hop faster than most dogs can run, and blue whale hearts are so big, humans could theoretically swim through their arteries.

Despite my best efforts to keep a closed lid on my own life, I’m certain I let some things slip. Aunt Claudette and her burgeoning career as Madame Stellestra is a safe enough topic, but every now and then, I catch myself discussing my old school or the contradictory mix of strictness and apathy with which the Ellingtons had treated me before I stop myself and change the subject.

No matter how understanding or empathetic Dylan seems, there are some secrets I can never give away.

I’m jolted out of my reverie when I spy Dylan’s familiar face among the sea of students exiting the school. He bounces over, grinning from ear to ear.

“What’s got you so happy?” I grumble, readjusting my backpack higher on my shoulders and starting off down the street.

He falls into step beside me. “Isn’t spending more time with Onyx reason enough?”