I was running around the house like a mad woman.
Despite I had over two hours until people actually started showing up to the funeral home, I was rushing around to get ready.
"Goddamn it!" I hiss, throwing another countless bobby pin into my bag.
"Babe.." Dylan knocks on the doorframe.
"My hair isn't working!" I breathe quickly. I need to calm down though. Hyperventilating will solve nothing.
"Carter it looks fine."
"But I don't want it to look fine!" I hiss.
"Carter," he places a hand on my shoulder. "Baby it's okay."
"It's not okay." I run an iron over my hair for the millionth time.
"Carter please, you need to relax."
"I can't! I can't do my hair! I can't relax! I can't save lives! I can't do anything right.." I flop on the toilet.
"Carter no.."
I sniffle, blinking away a break down.
"It's not your fault."
"It will always be my fault." I shake my head.
The front door opens and Dylan and I peak out.
It's just his mom.
"Can you hear what they're saying?" I ask Dylan.
"I don't want to." He shakes his head.
"Well I do!"
"No."
"No?"
"No, Carter."
I groan in frustration. I know my anger is within myself and not toward Dylan.
"Breathe."
In through your nose, out through pursed lips.
"Dylan I can't do this." I shake my head.
"Yes, you can."
"No, I can't. I can't see my best friend just lying there and- no I can't." I once again blink away tears.
"Carter?"
It's not Dylan, it's Emma.
"Hi," I give her a hug.
She gives me a long, reassuring squeeze.
"How ya holding up honey?" She asks in a soft whisper.
"I'm holding." I shrug.
"Oh.. I know darling. Holland absolutely adored you. You two were like two peas in a pod. Well, female peas." She glances at Dylan, sending me to give a weak laugh.
YOU ARE READING
Surreal
Fantasythe dream felt so real; the want and the passion, the heat and the lust while my mouth touched yours, our breaths pacing our thoughts filled and all at once, time moved backwards. -pedals (via hellopoetry.com) Second book in the Daydreams Trilogy.
