BACKYARD
Friday, October 9th
7:28 P.M.
Dylan padded across the chilly grass in her brown lace-up Nomads and yellow terry beach tunic, questioning her decision with every crunchy step.
Was it smart to choose the pool party over a movie with Derrick? Was Massie’s apology text enough to cancel out her “triple B” comment?And, the biggest question of all . . . Was she going to regret this?
An oasis loomed in the near distance, illuminated like a bonfire on a dark deserted beach.
Steam rose in wavy ribbons. Floating candles cast flickering shadows against the trees. Five brown-and-gold Louis Vuitton inflatable rafts were tethered to steps in the shallow end next to a floating tray stocked with smoothies. And Massie sat alone on the diving board wearing a Pucci silk robe and a matching head scarf. She was dragging her bare foot back and forth in the water, gazing dreamily at her toe-wake.
Dylan inhaled sharply as she stepped out on the deck and into the pale light. “Hey,” she called softly.
Massie lifted her chin with an elated smile. Then, like the mini-roll of belly fat Dylan often tried to push up toward her boobs, it fell.
“What’s Derrington doing here? This is girls only.” The alpha hurried toward them.
“He invited me to a movie, but I wanted to hang with you. So I brought him,” Dylan managed, taming her bucking nerves like a seasoned jockey on a bucking bronco.
“Ehma–no way. You’re the girl he’s been hanging out with?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?” Dylan snapped, refusing to be degraded for one more second.
“Because he likes me.”
“Not anymore,” Dylan stated evenly.
“Ladies, no need to fight over me,” Derrick tried to joke.
But the girls were locked in a serious stare-down.
“Puh-lease. That’s like trading cashmere for chenille.” Massie lifted her eyebrow in a “take that”sort of way.
Dylan’s hands started to quake. Her breathing became choppy. And rage exploded from her like a compressed whitehead. “I’m chenille?”
“If the size eight fits . . . ” Massie smirked.
“Well, if I’m chenille, you’re Lycra!”
“How am I Lycra?”
“Because you hold everyone back!”
Derrick snickered.
Massie’s mouth dropped open like a shocked emoticon.
“It’s true. You’re control-top pantyhose.” Dylan began to spill like uncontrollable diarrhea. The only way to find relief was to let it all out. “You try to run everyone’s lives and keep us all down so you stay on top.”
“Opposite of—”
“Oh yeah?” Dylan stepped forward, realizing for the first time that she was at least an inch taller than Massie. “Then why wouldn’t you let Alicia help choreograph? She’s a much better dancer than you. And why don’t you let us have friends outside the PC? And why won’t you lift the hold on Derringt—Derrick?”
“Derrick?” Massie giggled.
“Yeah, that’s his name.”
“Yeah!” He kicked a pebble into the pool for emphasis.
“Why would you want to be with someone that immature?”
“Why did you?”
“Oh, so you only like him because I did?”
“Hey, I’m not immature!” Derrick pouted.
“No, I like him because you don’t!”Dylan blurted. Then, like a rainbow after a storm, everything around her felt magical. It was that tingly uplifting feeling that came with knowing you were 100 percent right. “If you still liked him, I would stay away. Because I’m a good friend. But you’re over him. You like Dempsey now. You told me, like a billion times. So what’s the big deal?”
Massie inhaled deeply. “So did you bring him to rub this in my face?”
“No.” Dylan smiled confidently. “I brought him so you could remove the hold.” She tilted her head toward the twenty-five thousand gallons of water beside them.
“Seriously?” Massie’s amber eyes darted from Dylan to Derrick, then back to Dylan.
Dylan nodded yes.
“Fine.” Massie shrugged, like she didn’t care a bit. With a forceful push, she slapped her hands against Derrick’s bare back and shoved him in.
Dylan was about to thank her when she felt the alpha body bump the right side of her body. “Ahhhhhhhhh!” She fell into the pool with a sloppy splash. Warm liquid filled her boots and saturated the fibers of her terry cloth tunic. No matter how hard she fought, the weight of her wardrobe was dragging her down.
“Sinking!” she spat.
Instantly, Derrick was at her side gripping her armpit. It was more romantic than Blair and Nate’s season one aqua-kiss.
“Happy?” Massie peered down at them as they reached for the edge. “The hold has been lifted.”
Dylan panted.
“Now you’re both free.”
“Both?” Dylan peeled a slop of red hair off her forehead.
“Yup.” Massie put her hands on her hips. “No more Lycra. Hang wherever. Now get out of my pool.”
“Come awn, Massie.” Dylan hardly recognized the desperation in her own voice. “Let’s just—”
“Go!” Massie turned away. “My friends will be here any minute.”
Dylan’s stomach lurched. She dipped her cheeks in the water to hide her tears. There was no point in appealing to Massie now. She was hurt and embarrassed—an explosive combination. Instead, Dylan stomped across the grass, dripping water and leaking tears while Derrick sloshed along beside her.
“Why can’t I have both?” she heard herself whimper once they were back on the dark lawn.
“Because”—Derrick nudged her playfully—“maybe I’m all you need.”
Dylan sniff-giggled. The tingly rainbow reappeared. Only this time it was Derrick—her brand-new ah-dorable boyfriend—who was right.