Chapter 18: Colton's POV

I lifted my head up off my pillow and glanced over at the spot where I thought Rylie would be sleeping, but it was empty. I slowly sat up and stretched, running a hand through my dirty blonde hair. I stayed sitting, staring blankly at the dark blue walls for several minutes, trying to collect my thoughts. A rush of anger soared through me about Dylan, Rylie, and myself but I tried to push it down. I tiredly made my way out my bedroom door and down the steps to the kitchen. I'd only gotten a few hours of sleep and was feeling the affects now. I couldn't fall asleep because of… Well, you probably already fucking guessed it.


"Oh, honey! You're finally up!" My mom cooed in her bright cheery, morning voice. I only grumbled in response. I headed straight for the fridge, roughly moving stuff around to find something to eat. Rhett came up to my side and handed me a box of waffles.

"Bro, just eat these before you mutilate our food," he said jokingly, grabbing a mountain dew out of the fridge.

"Rhett Kyle Mathews!" My mom screeched, yanking the pop away from his hands, "You don't need pop this early in the morning."

"Mom, it's ten o'clock," Rhett complained, trying to grab the pop from our mother's hands.

"Too early! I don't want you to rot your teeth out before you turn twenty." My mom said, pursing her lips. Rhett groaned, leaning on the counter with a frown. I smirked as I popped two waffles into the toaster and grabbed the butter and syrup.

"Where's Rylie?" I asked, leaning on the counter opposite my brother.

"Dude, you missed her. She left like a couple hours ago." He said with irritation. I nodded softly, turning back around to butter the waffles, "She seemed better this morning. She still seemed upset, but I think she's trying to ignore it for now."

I sighed happily, pouring myself a glass of milk, "Good. She shouldn't waste her time thinking about that asshole."

"Like you, little bro?" He asked teasingly, I glanced at him sideways, grabbing my food and drink to walk to the table.

"Shut up," I mumbled under my breath. Rhett chuckled, glancing back behind him to make sure our mom had left the kitchen, before leaning closer to me.

"Better make your move now man. Otherwise seeing her with other guys is going to keep driving you crazy with jealousy. You should tell her how you feel," he said softly, his eyes intensely trained on me.

"No. She doesn't feel the same way," I said quietly, "And I'm not jealous nor will I be in the future," I lied, taking a bite out of one of the waffles.

"How do you know? And dude, every time you saw Dylan, you looked like you wanted to smash him over the head with a brick," he said with a breathy laugh. I laughed as I took a sip of milk.

"Don't give me ideas," I said tauntingly. We both laughed, before Rhett patted me on the back.

"It's for the best, Colt. I see the way you are around her and soon enough, she'll figure it out too," he said encouragingly, giving me a sly look before walking into the living room. I sighed, finishing the waffles in a matter of minutes. I slowly wandered up the steps and checked my phone on my dresser. No new messages. Huh, surprising. I slipped my shirt off and walked into the bathroom to take a quick shower. When I was done, I slipped on some basketball shorts and a gray t-shirt, before walking down the steps. My parents had left for their usual, Sunday shopping day and Rhett left a note saying he was going over to Jeremy's, his friend's house. I looked out the open window to Rylie's house to see the curtains were still drawn. Sighing, I slipped my phone out and texted Bailey.

Hey Bailey, I want you to know I had a blast last night. And I'm sorry for how things turned out.

I felt horrible that I had basically ditched my date after everything with Rylie happened and I hoped she understood. From what I got to know of her last night, she seemed like she'd understand.

Hey don't worry about it. I understand. I had fun too... thank you, she texted back.

I sighed with relief. Taking another glance towards Rylie's house, I texted Drew.

Hey cuz. What's up? I texted, laying on the couch.

Nothing & you?

Nothing. I replied. He texted back in a matter of seconds.

Do you want me to come over or something? He texted. I smiled, texting back quickly.

Haha, yeah. I texted back. For the next ten minutes, I laid on the couch watching a rerun of Jersey Shore. There was a knock on my door and I quickly stood up to get it. Drew stood there, dressed in his tight jeans and a light pink polo shirt. His light brown hair was combed so smoothly, no loose strands stuck up like the majority of my hair was.

"Hey gay cuz," I said teasingly. He scrunched his face up and poked me in the chest.

"Hey, judgmental ass," he replied back. I laughed, shutting the door behind him. He glanced around the room, in shock when he turned back to me, "Where's Rylie?"

"Not here," I stated, falling back down onto the couch.

"Where is she?" He asked curiously. I glanced back at the screen, exhaling.

"She left a couple hours ago," I said, a blank look on my face as I stared at the TV. I glanced over at him as he sat down, "Dylan, tried to have sex with her last night."

There was a long silence before Drew responded, "What did you do?" He asked in a worried voice. I smirked deviously, picturing that heavy brick idea Rhett had given me.

"Kicked his ass," I said smugly. Drew groaned.

"Is Rylie okay?" He asked in worry. I pursed my lips, absent mindedly glancing over at her house.

"She's okay. What Dylan tried to do to her is going to mess with her head for awhile, that's for sure," I said angrily, my eyes swivelling in his direction, "The little prick even hit her."

"What?!" Drew exclaimed, putting a hand up to his mouth. I nodded, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Damn, I hate him," I said quietly. How could anyone do that to Rylie? How could someone hit a girl that's so beautiful and fragile? My anger towards Rylie was at the back of my mind now. She may have lied to me, but it's not like she understood, or wanted to understand someone could be that pure evil. I believe she truly thought he wasn't what everybody said he was. Sad part is, Dylan is exactly like what everybody says he is.

I really wished Rylie would look at me like she used to look at Dylan. Almost like I was this perfect person that she needed and wanted. The type of look you see some couples give each other that almost made you jealous. I hated that she couldn't see my feelings that I basically dangled in front of her face. I needed to tell her. I couldn't tell her. I needed to tell her. I couldn't tell her.

Screw it. I was telling her everything, and the perfect time to do that, would be at the winter formal dance.

I totally forgot all about updating this story and editing all the chapters and I just randomly came across this again and thought, hey why not? So here I am. Hope you enjoy it!