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just…following you home. You know, just to make sure he didn’t
try anything. Can’t a guy see a girl home anymore? Damn.”
    “I don’t think that’s the exact definition
of ‘see a girl home,’ but whatever. And who else knows about
this?”
    “Kat and Eric have been giving me an
especially hard time. I try to get off work a little early and then
Eric drives me over to your dad’s place before you leave. Except
tonight I got held up.”
    “And I left early. To throw off the stalker .” Why didn’t you just talk to me? I knew
Dylan tended to avoid some stuff, but clearly he was embracing
not-dealing as a lifestyle choice.
    Or am I just that scary and difficult? Maybe
he just doesn’t want to deal with me.
    Is that why he kissed me five weeks (and two
days) ago, and hasn’t said or done anything about it since?
    Marco’s words were kicking around in my
head. “And has Dylan made any kind of a move at all? Trust me,
that’s not a problem for my boy Dylan.”
    Maybe it wasn’t a good kiss. Maybe he
decided he doesn’t like me, like me.
    But then, why all the trouble to look out
for me? Why come after me when he knew Marco had me? I mean, yeah,
Dylan’s the kind of guy who would just do that if he thought a girl
was in trouble, but he just seemed really relieved that I was
okay.
    Or maybe he meant that Marco scared the piss
out of him, and he was relieved that we got away.
    Maybe he never was interested in me like
that. Maybe the kiss thing was just some kind of post-brawling
testosterone release thing. Maybe he’s like those other Talents
Heather said were looking for a leader or some shit, and that’s why
he’s been hanging around me. He did kind of let Marco lead him
around, and now I know he is a Talent…
    Damn, this sucks .
    “Joss,” Dylan snapped his fingers in front
of my face, “you still with me?”
    “What? Yeah, no, sorry. I spaced a little.
Headache.”
    “So…you forgive me or what?”
    “For what?”
    He let out an exasperated sigh. “For the,
quote-unquote, stalking thing. And, while you’re feeling generous,
for not telling you I was a Talent too.”
    “Oh. No. I mean, not necessary. I’m not mad.
It’s nice that you wanted to follow me home. I appreciate it. You
could walk with me…if you want.”
    Oh my God, what if he didn’t tell me he was
“seeing me home” because he didn’t want me to get the wrong idea
about us? I am such an idiot.
    “Sure.”
    “We could meet up outside the store, so as
not to agitate my dad.” Why do words keep coming out of my
mouth?
    “Good idea. Speaking of your dad, it’s late.
You should call him now. He’ll be worried when you didn’t make it
home on time. Tell him to come pick you up.”
    More total not thinking on my part. I was so
out of it. I probably couldn’t hang out with Dylan and chew gum at
the same time.
    “What about you? Won’t your mom be
worried?”
    “Nah, she—she’s working nights.”
    “Oh. We’ll give you a ride then.”
    “Um…no thanks.”
    “Dylan, I have a huge headache and the only
thing that will really help is sleep. Don’t make me stay up all
night wondering if you got home okay.”
    “Emotional blackmail. Well played,
Marshall,” he grinned at me. “Make your call.”
    It didn’t seem to matter how much “evidence”
I could pile up in my head to show that Dylan was only interested
in me as a friend, I just didn’t want it to be true. Yeah, I was
concerned for his safety getting home, but I was also going to
subject him to my dad because I wanted to spend just a little more
time with him. I wanted to sit next to him in the backseat of the
car. I wanted to see how close to me he would choose to sit, or if
he’d find an excuse to touch me.
    Seriously, could I possibly be any
lamer?
     
    * * *
     
    Joss
     
    “Well, uh, thanks for the ride, Mr.
Marshall,” Dylan said, opening the door and swinging his legs out
onto the walk.
    Dad just grunted. I twisted around in my
seat because, yeah,