Dylan: oh yeah? What kind of dream? Need me to leave you to play with your other favorite toy?

Riley: Lol. No. Not that kind of dream.

Dylan: So?

Riley: I dreamt we were in your truck. You were driving. I was in the middle of the front seat. The sun was out and the warmth of it tickled my skin. You were driving and your hand was on my leg and you were talking to me about the engine in your garage.

Dylan: Doesn’t sound that exciting.

Riley: It was. And you were. You were happy telling me about it.

Dylan: And you were bored, right?

Riley: No. Why would I be bored?

Dylan: Because it’s an engine, Riley.

Riley: It’s also your passion, Dylan. If it excites you, it excites me.

I think about Heidi and all the times I’d tried to talk to her about cars. She’d shut me down every time. Sometimes it wasn’t even verbally, she’d just tune out, grab her phone and ignore me.

Riley: You okay?

Dylan: Yeah. Just thinking.

Riley: About?

Dylan: Nothing.

Riley: Because you’re not allowed to talk about her to me?

Dylan: lol.

Riley: You lol’d.

Dylan: I did.

Riley: You can talk about her. I was just kidding.

Dylan: It’s weird.

Riley: Says the guy who wanted to hear all about my ex-boyfriend? Not weird at all.

Dylan: Valid.

Riley: So?

Dylan: I was just thinking… She never really cared much about what I was into, you know? Not just cars, but even little things like basketball. Did Jeremy go to your swim meets?

Riley: Every single one.

Dylan: See?

Riley: I’m sorry.

Dylan: It’s okay. I guess when you say things like that… like you being excited about the things I’m excited about, I kind of just wonder, you know? Like, why were we even together for so long?

Riley: Can I be completely honest with you?

Dylan: Always. I don’t ever want anything else from you.

Riley: I feel like it’s kind of a blessing, you know? That you guys broke up.

Dylan: Well yeah, because then I probably would’ve never met you.

Riley: You’re sweet, but no. That’s not what I meant.

Dylan: Then what?

I can see the little dots on the screen moving. It feels like forever before her message finally comes through.

Riley: You know those couples in high school who seem so perfect on the outside, but are unhappy on the inside? They spend their teenage years together, go off to college and keep the pretense of perfection going because by then it’s all they know. I’m not saying you didn’t love each other. You probably did. In fact, I’m sure YOU definitely did, because I can tell when YOU care for someone, you care for them deeply. I just think that maybe time changed you both. At some point you grew apart and you didn’t realize it was happening until there was nothing left. And you’re probably bitter and angry because you might feel like you don’t exactly know how it happened. It’s been what? Over two years since you’ve been together and she’s still on your mind.

I read her text over and over, me and Heidi’s history running through my mind like a slideshow of irrelevant events.

Dylan: Last November.

Riley: What?

Dylan: I was with her at Cam and Lucy’s wedding three months ago.

Riley: Oh.

Dylan: Sorry.

Riley: You don’t owe me an apology, Dylan.

Dylan: Still.

Riley: So you were together when you were deployed?

Dylan: Not really.

Riley: I’m confused.

Dylan: She Dear John’d me when I first deployed and said she wanted to see other people. I’m not really sure what she did after that. I don’t want to know. But then I saw her at the wedding and we… you know…

Riley: What’s Dear John mean?

Dylan: It’s just a term for when your girl breaks up with you in a letter while you’re deployed.

Riley: I’m sorry.

Dylan: Yeah…

Riley: But you were together again after the wedding?

Dylan: We all went to Vegas for Cam and Lucy’s honeymoon.

Riley: Hello, Captain Avoidance.

Dylan: I broke up with her for good there. She went home. I went back to Afghanistan.

Riley: I assumed something happened while you were in Vegas?

Dylan: Just don’t keep secrets from me, Riley. That’s all I ask.

The little dots on the screen move again.

It feels like forever. Again.

Finally:

Riley: Good night, Dylan.

Dylan: Wait. What did I say? Or do?

Riley: It’s just a little rich for you to be asking me not to keep secrets when you obviously want to hold on to your own.

Dylan: I looked up Jeremy. I know what happened. I know you were there when he died.

Riley: I guess some secrets are easier to find than others. Maybe there’s a reason we want to keep them a secret instead of pushing the wrong buttons with each other and ending up in a place neither of us want?

Dylan: I wish I was in my truck, you next to me, my hand on your leg, sun shining while I tell you about the dumb engine in my garage.

Riley: It’s not a dumb engine. And I wish I was there, too. Maybe if we close our eyes and go to sleep and wish on it enough it will happen in our dreams?

Dylan: I’ll make it happen, Riley. Just not in our dreams. In reality. We’ll drive toward the calm of the horizon until you feel like you’re touching the earth. And we can stay there. I’ll show you our reality. Just you and me. And it’ll be perfect. You’ll see.

After a long pause, she replies:

Riley: You made me cry.

Dylan: I’m sorry.

Riley: I’m falling so hard for you, Dylan Banks.

Dylan: I’m already there, Riley Hudson.

She doesn’t respond after that and I don’t mind that she doesn’t because it gives me the opportunity to work on something I was supposed to do yesterday. I grab what I need and sit in the corner of my room, imagining exactly what she described in her dream. And I let that feeling guide me through my task until I fall back asleep, her dream now becoming mine.

Nineteen

Dylan

I wake up to the sound of my phone ringing. For a second, I get excited, thinking it’s Riley. It’s not. It’s Jake.

“What’s up?” I check the time. 9:47. They’re not meant to be here until 11.

“Yo. My fucking truck died on the way to your house. Cam and Logan are with me. The girls are coming later. Can you come get us?”

“Yeah, man.” I sit up and rub my eyes. “Where are you?”

“Close. We’re just at the exit off the highway.”

I hang up and shrug on some clothes, still half asleep as I walk through the hallway, past the kitchen, and toward the back door leading to the yard.

As soon as I open the door water splashes my face and my chest. Followed quickly by something brown and soft. And now I’m awake.

Awake and angry.

I look down at myself before looking at them. I’m soaking wet, covered in feathers.

Jake and Logan are standing a few feet in front of me—both holding buckets. Jakes drops his. “Oh, fuck,” he whispers, eyes wide.

Then Logan breaks out in laughter.

“You know I carry, right?” I threaten, only half-joking. The second I take a step, something wet hits my head. It’s white. Milk. I start to look up, just in time to see eggs falling from the sky. The first one hits my shoulder, then the rest is a blur. After closing my eyes, I ball my fists at my sides, trying to keep my anger in check. Jake and Logan are cackling like idiots, and now another guffaw from above. I wipe my eyes so I can see Cameron’s stupid face hanging over the roof edge, one arm out holding a paper bag. I don’t need to see it to know what’s inside, I taught these assholes everything they know. He gives me a face splitting grin before flooding me with the entire bag of flour. “Mayhem, motherfucker!”