The week went by and Kirsty never enacted any revenge, so I hoped that was the end of it. Dylan came over every morning before school, but since Yvonne usually slept until around eleven, she had no clue of his comings and goings.

I felt a little guilty, but at the same time I loved it.

Going down on me seemed to be his new favourite thing. He was obsessed. I felt like I was someone else, some other more experienced, worldly teenager who had sex all the time. Like in American movies, where they all drive cars at sixteen and have active and varied love lives.

“Hi,” I whispered as I answered the door to him on Friday morning. He gave me a sexy smile and moved to come inside when he spotted Yvonne. She was up early since she had a meeting at the bank. I suspected she was figuring out her options for taking out a loan, but I didn’t want to think about it too much. Yvonne taking out a loan only meant one thing; she was considering moving to New York sooner than originally planned.

I think Conor’s attempted kiss last week had a weird effect on her. We hadn’t really discussed it, but I suspected it made her realise she needed to get moving, start working on her dreams or she’d never leave this place. She’d be stuck here forever, getting hit on by nineteen-year-olds and working every night until three in the morning.

In spite of my efforts not to think about it, I worried. If Yvonne left, I’d have to go live in a group home, or something of that variety, until I turned eighteen. It was only a couple of months, but still. What would I do when I did hit my next birthday? How would I support myself? Pay rent?

Of course, I could get a job, but I wasn’t sure minimum wage would be enough.

“Morning, Dylan,” Yvonne chirped knowingly. Maybe she wasn’t so oblivious to his morning visits after all. Her expression was pleased, like she achieved her goal of surprising him.

“Hey, Yvonne. I just, uh, came to walk Ev to school.”

She glanced at the clock. “A little early, isn’t it?”

He cleared his throat. “I like to be punctual.”

“Right, well, come in and have a cup of tea before you go. Ev hasn’t had her breakfast yet.”

He came inside and sat at the table, while I made tea and marmalade on toast. It was my favourite. Dylan kept shooting me meaningful looks, which I ignored. We were going to have to forego the sexy times this morning, and no amount of intense stares would change that. He hooked his foot around my ankle as I slid a small plate of toast to him. He ate it without protest, and washed it down with a gulp of tea.

“Well, we’d better get going,” I said and went to give Yvonne a quick hug. “Good luck at the bank.”

“Thanks, love,” she smiled, and we went on our way.

“What’s Yvonne going to the bank for?” Dylan asked once we got outside.

I shrugged and played it off like it was nothing. “Not sure. I think she might be trying for a loan.”

“Like a mortgage?”

“No, more like a couple thousand so she can move. I don’t think she wants to wait three years after all.”

Dylan frowned as he walked. He was silent a long moment before he said, “But what will you do if she goes?”

“Get sent to a foster home? Pretty sure my mam won’t volunteer to come back to Dublin and live with me until I turn eighteen.”

“How can you sound so casual about it?” Worry etched his features.

“What else can I do? Yvonne’s already taken care of me for three years. She’s done her time.”

“It’s not a jail sentence, Ev.”

“You know what I mean. I’d never dream of asking her to stay.”

“You could always come with me,” he suggested. “I’m sure there are ways for you to finish your last year of school online.”

“And where would I get the money for that? I don’t have a bunch of savings from my weekend job selling perfumes.”

“I’ll pay for you. We’ll figure it out.”

I stared at him and wondered if he was serious. He looked like he was. There wasn’t a speck of uncertainty in his expression.

“I couldn’t let you do that.”

“Ev, I’m certain I can’t do without you anyway. If you won’t come, I may have to put you in my suitcase and take you against your will,” he teased and poked me in the side.

I giggled. “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t even know where you’re going.”

“But that’s half the fun.”

“What will you do? Go to the airport and buy a ticket on the next departing flight? That’s the sort of schtick that gets you on a one-way journey to Lagos. Or better yet, Cork,” I said with a shudder. I knew that for him, the only thing worse than going somewhere even more downtrodden than the Villas, was going to a city only one hundred and sixty miles away.

He wanted to travel far and wide, experience all the amazing things the world had to offer.

Dylan let out a soft breath and chilly air left his mouth. He rubbed his hands together as he replied, “I’ll go wherever I can find the best opportunities.”

I nodded and looked away, because the idea of losing both Dylan and Yvonne in the same year was heart-wrenching. Still, I sucked it up and put on a brave face. It wasn’t like I could stop them from doing what they wanted. In fact, it’d be worse if I was the reason they didn’t.

We made our way down to Sam’s flat, but when I knocked, his mam said he’d already left. I thought nothing of it, because sometimes he had early choir practices. For someone so tiny, he had a set of lungs on him. I was the only one who knew he secretly dreamed of singing as a profession, but going to stage school was expensive. I was pretty sure when his mam encouraged him to go to college, she didn’t have performing arts in mind.

Dylan and I walked to school hand in hand. When we arrived, I frowned, because Sam climbed out from the behind the bushes close to the front gates. Shane emerged soon after, but both of them walked inside like they didn’t even know each other.

“Did I just see what I think I did?”

“They’re having a secret affair,” I sighed. “Sam’s in love with the idea. There’s no talking to him.”

“You know if it ever gets out, Shane will likely beat Sam up just to show how ‘not gay’ he is.”

So, Dylan could see how reckless Sam was being, too. I was glad it wasn’t just me, but at the same time it made me worry even more.

“Sam says he’s not emotionally invested, but I’m not so sure. I mean, he’s the very definition of emotional investment. He can’t pick his favourite sandwich without feeling torn between two lovers.”

Dylan’s expression was curious. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

“That’s because he puts on a good front, but believe me, underneath it all he’s soft as candy floss.”

We reached our lockers, and I opened mine, noticing Kirsty at hers. She cast me a quick look then proceeded to ignore us. Dylan appeared thoughtful for a minute then said, “What if we distract him somehow? I usually go running in Phoenix Park most Sunday mornings. I could invite him to join me. Maybe it would be good for him to have a male friend he can talk to about stuff.”

“I didn’t know you ran,” I commented.

He shrugged. “It’s basically the only exercise I do.”

“Well, it works,” I muttered, and he grinned. “Also, that’s a very kind offer. I’ll ask Sam if he’s interested.”

“Good. Let me know what he says.”

Kirsty slammed her locker shut and sauntered off. Hmmm, I still sensed a hint of an attitude from her, then again, that was sort of her personality. Dylan and I went to our morning classes, but all the while my mind stayed on Sam. Maybe I was being overly protective. Maybe everything would be fine and this thing with Shane would fizzle out on its own.

After school, I went to visit Gran. I had a box of toffees and a new crossword puzzle book to give her. When I got there, she was sitting by the window in the common area reading a book.

“Hi, Gran,” I said as I approached to give her a hug. Her face lit up in a smile when she saw me. I wished my hugs could bring back the vibrant, strong woman she’d been when I was little. I missed her.

“Evelyn, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” she greeted, hugging me back before I went to take the seat opposite her.

“It’s so quiet in here,” I commented, and she chuckled.

“You should come at night. The place transforms. It’s like a Roman orgy after hours.”

“Gran!”

“It’s true. All these old timers are mad for it. They don’t have to worry about getting pregnant.”

I laughed some more, delighted she was in a good mood. Her speech was perfect today and she looked well rested. It was a stark contrast to other days, when she was in pain and could hardly get her words out.

“I brought some things,” I said, pulling the toffees and crossword puzzles from my school bag.

“You’re too good to me.”

“I wanted to bring you some flowers, but I’ve been so busy I’ve hardly had time to garden.”

Her eyes got a twinkle. “Yvonne says you’ve got a new boyfriend.”

I nodded shyly. “Yes, Dylan. Remember the boy who came to visit with me?”

“Yes. A very polite young man.”

I frowned. “Some girls at school aren’t happy about me being with him.”

“Well, of course they aren’t. He’s quite the looker.”

“I’m worried it’s bringing me the wrong kind of attention.”

“Ignore them. You concentrate on your studies and don’t let the bullies have their way. When you acknowledge them, you give them power.”

“I wish it was as easy as that,” I sighed.

“It’s not easy, but I know you can do it. You’re a strong girl, so much like my Yvonne.”

“Why do you think I’m not like Mam?” I asked quietly.

“Oh, Ev. Who’s to tell? We are who we are for a variety of reasons. It isn’t down to any one thing.”

“I think I’m in love with Dylan,” I blurted then and her expression softened.

“And why do you sound so sad about it?”

“Because he’s leaving when he finishes school. He’s like Yvonne, too. He thinks there’s a better life somewhere far from here.”

“Well, they have to find out for themselves whether it’s true. You can travel to the ends of the earth, but you’ll still be you.” She tapped the side of my head. “You have to face the challenges in here before you’ll find happiness out there,” she went on, gesturing around herself.

“How are you so wise?”

“Pain has a way of making you see things clearly.”

My brow furrowed. I hated the idea of her being in pain, but I knew it was a daily reality for her.

“Let’s open that packet of toffees, eh?” I said, not wanting to think about it anymore.

* * *

A month passed and Dylan and I fell into a blissful routine. Sex was our new obsession. Even at school he could hardly keep his hands off me. After the third or fourth time, it stopped hurting and started to feel good. Too good, almost. Each day I fell deeper and deeper in love with him. I didn’t think there was a single part of my heart he hadn’t yet claimed.

Sam and Shane’s affair was still ongoing, and still a secret. I often caught him smiling to himself, and I knew he was thinking about it. Sometimes we talked about it, and I tried not to judge. I had to accept that Sam was old enough to make his own decisions.

Anyway, in a year’s time he’d likely go to college. He’d meet some pretty, caring, sensitive boy, they’d fall hopelessly in love and he’d forget all about Shane. That was my vision for him.

I was on my way to lunch one day when someone grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the chemistry lab. I turned and saw Dylan, and my heart skipped a beat. He stared at me lovingly.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said and guided me to a lab table. No teachers were around, and it felt weird for it to be just the two of us.

“Oh.” I couldn’t imagine what sort of surprise had to be given in a chemistry lab. There was a whole mess of items on the table, and I recognised some flowers from my allotment.

“I wondered where those had gone. Thought I had a flower thief on my hands.”

He gave an apologetic smile. “You did. It was me, but I promise it was for a good cause.”

“What is all this?”

“I’m creating my own perfume,” he replied, and my gaze widened. That wasn’t what I expected at all.

“Really? Wow. That’s . . . wow.”

“Don’t sound so apprehensive. I promise it’s not awful.”

I shook my head at him. “Well, of course it isn’t, but I mean, isn’t making perfume really complicated?”

I got that he sold them for his job, and he had a good nose for it, but it just surprised me that he would make his own. When we were little, Sam and I sometimes stole rose petals from Gran and put them in jars to make perfume, but it never really worked.

“It is, but I got to thinking about what you said, about me inventing my own product. I know everything there is to know about perfume, and chemistry is my best subject, so I thought, why don’t I just make my own? I also needed a topic for my end-of-term project, so this was perfect.”

I never thought about perfume in terms of chemistry, but that was where it all started. In a lab. Maybe Dylan’s project wasn’t so unusual after all. Maybe he could make something of this, use his innate skills for something amazing.

“Can I smell it?” I was completely charmed by his excited energy. His hair was askew, his uniform rumpled. He looked like he’d been up all night working.

Dylan presented me with a small glass jar. It had a pale liquid inside, but the cap was screwed tight. I glanced at the concoction of jasmine, echinacea, and wildflowers on the table, and smiled at the thought of him sneaking up to the roof to steal them from my allotment. I picked up a bottle and read the label aloud. “Angelica root essential oil. What do you use this for?”

“That’s for the musk base note. The perfume is an oriental, like the one I bought for you.”

“Oh,” I said and smiled. I’d never heard of oriental perfume until I met Dylan, but I now knew it was my favourite. I studied the flowers again. “Is that my anise hyssop?”

Dylan nodded. “Yeah, sorry, I just needed a small piece.”

“What for? It smells like liquorice.” Not very perfume-y, I thought.

He scratched his head, his eyes alight as he answered, “I’m finding that a tiny bit of something that doesn’t fit, something odd, or maybe even slightly disgusting, can actually bring out the scent more. I mean, sure, all the ingredients smell fine, but if you can find that one drop of something unusual that raises them from ordinary to extraordinary, that’s when the magic happens.”

“So, something savoury to bring out the sweet?” I asked. “Like a pinch of salt in a recipe for cake?”

“Exactly,” Dylan enthused. “And it works the opposite way, too. For instance, you might put a spoonful of sugar in a bread recipe, but it doesn’t come out sweet, it simply helps you taste more of the savoury.”

A warmth spread through my chest from his enthusiasm. I picked up the perfume.

“Okay, let’s give this thing a whirl.”

Dylan seemed uncharacteristically nervous as I screwed open the jar. In the last month, I had learned a lot about him. He was loyal, altruistic, plus confident with a dose of humility at the same time. He was a man I never wanted to lose. But watching him now, his delight in creating something that would no doubt be wonderful, was a little daunting. He was destined for significant things. Extraordinary things. He would outgrow St Mary’s, and I feared mostly he’d outgrow me, too. But in this moment, sensing his nerves, I knew for now, my opinion mattered, and I felt special because of it.

Lifting the jar to my nose, I inhaled deeply and was instantly swept away on a cloud of a beautiful scent. It was subtle but powerful, each ingredient having its moment to shine. At first you were met with jasmine, then delicate, sweet echinacea, and underneath there was a faint but generous hint of musk.

“Wow,” I breathed, eyes rising to meet Dylan’s.

He bit his lip, his expression unsure. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful. Exquisite. I love it.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. You’ve seriously outdone yourself. I love it more than the one I have at home that cost ninety euros to buy. I genuinely think you’ve got something special here, Dylan.”

He came and cupped my face in his hands. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I keep wondering if Mam would like it if she was still alive. Then I remember she couldn’t smell and smack myself for forgetting.”

My face turned sympathetic. “Even so, I’m sure she would’ve enjoyed you describing it to her.”

His face softened. “She did love that.”

“You miss her a lot, don’t you?” His pain was so clearly etched into his frown. Most of the time he did a good job of hiding it, but right now he was vulnerable. I could see every ounce of his torment.

“All the time. I wish she was still here, but at least she’s not in pain anymore. Seeing her suffer was the worst part. Towards the end . . . it was awful. I wouldn’t wish watching a loved one pass away on my worst enemy.”

I swallowed; emotion clutched me as I spoke. “Sometimes, when Gran’s having a bad day, I just think, why can’t I take half the pain so we could share it? Then it wouldn’t be so bad. You feel helpless when there’s nothing you can do to make it stop.”

Dylan nodded. “If I could’ve swapped places with her, I would have. I’d take all her tumours so she could live.”

“She wouldn’t have wanted that. No mother should have to lose a child.”

“No child should have to lose a mother,” he countered sadly and dropped his forehead to mine. I could smell his minty breath, and I loved his skin against my skin.

“That’s not how the world works.”

“Sometimes I hate the world.”

“The world is easy to hate, especially when you think about all the pain in it. But there’s a lot to be thankful for, so I choose to think about that instead. You should, too.”

His hand drifted into my hair, his expression fierce as he whispered, “I’m thankful for you, Ev. I love you so much.”

My breath caught, and then he kissed me. He backed me up against the wall beside his lab table and laid siege to my mouth. I pressed my palms to the cold, magnolia wall and wondered how I got here. Dylan was sensitive and creative and intelligent, and he loved me. Not any of the other girls at school. Me.

I wasn’t sure what I did to deserve him, but I wasn’t going to protest. Not when his hands groped my body, grasping at my dips and lines, feeling for places to stay awhile.

He broke the kiss, breathless, and took my hand in his. “Come with me.”

I followed as he led me to the back of the classroom, through a door and into the storage closet. There was a table on one side, and on the other a wall lined with shelves containing all manner of chemical substances. I wasn’t so sure it was safe to be in here.

“Shouldn’t this room be locked?”

“Mr Tully trusts me.”

“Well, he shouldn’t.”

Dylan smirked. “You think I’d burn the school down or something?”

“No, but everyone makes mistakes.”

“Just shut up and kiss me, Evelyn,” he said and without preamble lifted me up onto the table. He pressed his mouth to mine. I felt his hunger as he fumbled open my waistband and slipped his hand inside. Gasping into his kiss, I slid my tongue along his and opened my legs wider. I wanted him to touch me.

“More,” I whispered, and his fingers moved past the seam of my underwear. He rubbed my clit and I heaved a moan. “Yes, like that.”

I closed my eyes and got lost in him. He pushed his fingers inside me and I gasped. We should both be at lunch but here we were here, on the verge of having sex in a chemical-filled storage closet.

“Ev,” he rasped.

“Hmm?”

“Undo my pants.”

My stomach flipped and I nervously reached out. My fingers fiddled with his fly until I got it free, then I ran them over the trail of hair at his stomach. He shuddered at my touch and I hesitated.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered and I pressed my palm flat to his belly. That alone caused his breath to come out in a rush. I kept my eyes closed and reached for him. He swore when I wrapped my fingers around his cock.

“You don’t need to be gentle, Ev,” he murmured huskily and dropped his mouth to my neck. Tingles skittered down my spine and I slowly moved my hand up and down. Dylan groaned and pulled a condom from his pocket, but I paused to stop him. Biting my lip, I met his eyes.

“We don’t need that,” I whispered.

Over the last month, we’d gone through our fair share of condoms. I hadn’t told him yet, but I went back to the GP clinic and got on the pill. I knew it didn’t mean we could go around having unprotected sex all the time, but I wanted to know what it felt like now that the pain of losing my virginity was long gone.

Dylan’s brows furrowed. “Ev, of course we—”

“I’m on the pill.”

His brows furrowed even more. “You are? Since when?”

“Just over a week. I went to see the doctor. I thought it would be a good idea since we’re . . . you know, doing this so much.”

I couldn’t believe I got embarrassed saying it, especially considering our current position. Dylan was still studying me when I asked, “Are you angry?”

“Of course not. I just wish you’d told me. I could’ve gone with you and . . .”

I placed a finger to his lips to shush him. “Stop fretting. It’s done now. Also, lunch is almost over.” I gave him a cheeky grin. He shook his head and grinned, too, then started kissing me again. He palmed my thighs, his movements even more eager than they’d been before.

I gasped when he mouthed my neck and slid inside of me with a guttural groan.

I loved being with him. My only concern was getting caught, but that wasn’t likely to happen during lunch. Once the clock struck twelve thirty, most teachers fled like bats out of hell, eager for an hour’s respite from dealing with teenagers all day.

I buried my face in his shoulder, biting down a little when he moved his hips. His pace quickened, and I moaned at how good it felt. He reached down to rub my clit, and I lost my mind. My body tensed and Dylan swore.

“Jesus.”

“I think I’m gonna come,” I whispered.

“Yes,” he groaned. “Come on me.”

That did it. The way he spoke was an aphrodisiac. I shook as I orgasmed on his fingers. He bent his mouth to my neck and gave a gentle bite. I whimpered and clutched him tighter.

Moments later he came, too. He wrapped his arms around me as he filled me up, then fell against me with a quiet shudder.

With his arms surrounding me, and his entire body against mine, I felt overwhelmed. “I love you,” I blurted. He made a happy hum in the back of his throat. His face was pressed against the side of mine, and I felt his muscles move as he smiled.

“I love you, too, Ev. Always will.”

A few minutes of quiet passed as we just held each other, and then Dylan helped me right my clothes. When we were both presentable, we walked back into the classroom hand in hand. It was thankfully empty.

Like usual, I was swept up in daydreams of Dylan for the rest of my evening. If my grades went down, I knew who to blame. All the lessons blended into meaningless babble when I had Dylan in my head, telling me to touch him, urging me to come.

It was a miracle I managed to get through my classes at all. And then, when it came time for my final class of the day, Biology, I sat at my usual table and noticed the teacher hadn’t arrived yet. A few minutes passed, and the other students became rowdy, excited that we’d all somehow been forgotten about.

The door opened and the rowdiness faded. However, it was wasn’t the teacher who walked in, but Dylan. A flush instantly claimed my cheeks when our eyes briefly met, memories of what we did during lunch flooding my head. Dylan turned and addressed the room.

“Mr. Gleeson had to go home sick, so I’ve been asked to supervise until the end of class. You can take out your books and do homework.”

“Piss off. I’m not listening to you. You’re not even a teacher,” said Jackson Keegan, one of the boys Dylan had been suspended for fighting with over a month ago. They hadn’t gotten into any more scrapes, but he was constantly eyeballing Dylan when he passed us by in the corridors. Dylan always ignored him, which was probably why they hadn’t fought again. I knew Jackson was just biding his time, waiting for his chance to start something.

“Yeah, piss off,” another boy added.

Dylan looked at him in a disinterested way that somehow commanded respect. “I could give a shit. I’m just telling you what I was told to tell you. Do what you want.”

Jackson scowled, irritated that Dylan wasn’t giving him a reason to fight. I squirmed in my seat, feeling edgy. We had another thirty minutes left of class, and I knew Jackson was going to use every opportunity to rile Dylan.

Dylan sat down at the teacher’s desk, opened one of his own books and proceeded to ignore everyone. He didn’t make eye contact with me again, but I couldn’t help noticing how sexy he looked from this angle. Maybe it was because he was at the teacher’s desk. It sort of made my mind wander to interesting places.

And I wondered why he’d been asked to supervise. Then again, he’d probably just been walking by the principal’s office at the exact time someone was needed and the receptionist simply grabbed him.

Everyone was still making a lot of noise, which prompted the teacher from the room across the hall, Mrs Green, to stride in. “Okay, quiet down you lot. I’m leaving my door open, so I don’t want to hear anything above a whisper.” She eyed a few of the troublesome students to hammer home her point then turned to Dylan. “If anyone acts out, just come and get me.”

Everyone was mostly quiet after that. Mrs Green was known for giving not just one evening, but an entire week’s worth of detention as punishment for bad behaviour. Dylan’s attention returned to his text book, and I watched him a minute.

Man, he was handsome.

His gaze flicked up, and he caught me looking. I saw him smirk before I rolled my eyes in an effort to cover up the fact I was flushing like an idiot. How could I have been with him an entire month and still feel bashful for checking him out?

My thoughts stopped short when Dylan’s expression hardened, and there was a sneering laugh from Jackson. “I forgot your little girlfriend was in this class. She’s so quiet, you never notice her. What’s your name again, babe?”

I made eye contact with Dylan and ignored Jackson, but my posture was stiff. I hated this, hated the tension. And I could see Dylan’s temper rising just from the fact that Jackson mentioned me.

“She’s got a great arse, doesn’t she?” Jackson went on, addressing Dylan. “Like a ripe peach.”

A few of the boys in class chuckled, while Dylan’s face hardened further. I eyed him intently, trying to communicate with him to ignore whatever Jackson said.

I knew it was useless when he sneered, “Let me know when you’re done with her, yeah? I wouldn’t mind a go.”

Dylan carefully closed over his textbook and rose from his seat. His measured movements were in contrast with how quickly he advanced on Jackson. I barely had a chance to blink before he gripped him by the shirt collar, lifted him from his seat and slammed him back against the classroom wall.

“You ever talk about her again and I’ll fucking end you,” he fumed. “Do you hear me?”

My heart beat frantically in my chest. I prayed for Mrs. Green to hear the commotion and come in as I rose from my seat and pleaded with Dylan, “He’s not worth it. Just ignore him.”

His blink was the only indication that he’d heard me, but he didn’t loosen his hold. Instead he slammed Jackson into the wall a second time. “Do you fucking hear me?” he grunted.

Jackson chocked, his face red, as he coughed and laughed cruelly. “You’re gonna regret this, O’Dea.”

The sound of heels clipping on the linoleum sounded as Mrs. Green approached the room. Quick as a flash, Dylan let go of Jackson and returned to his seat. Jackson sat, too, and when she entered everyone acted like nothing had happened.

“Everything okay in here?” Mrs Green asked, and nobody made a peep. She glanced at Dylan. “Are they all behaving?”

He nodded, but I recognised the strain on his face. “Yep.”

She studied him a moment, then glanced around the room. Her suspicion was clear, but she didn’t have proof that anything happened. “Next time I hear a single sound out of you lot the entire class is getting a week of detention,” she announced then strode from the room.

We were all quiet after that. I managed to catch Dylan’s eye after she left, and he looked tired. I hated I was his weak link, the thing Jackson decided to attack. I was the one person at school Dylan was liable to lose his shit over if anyone so much as looked at me the wrong way. Now Jackson had something to get Dylan back for, and it had me all twisted up inside.

I held his gaze and he held mine, a silent conversation between us.

You shouldn’t have done that, I said.

But I had to, he replied.

The bell rang and Jackson eyeballed Dylan all the way out the door. I waited until everyone had left to approach him. I slid my fingers through his and gave his hand a soft squeeze.

“When are you ever going to learn that violence isn’t the answer?”

Dylan ran a hand through his hair. “I know it isn’t, Ev, but it’s all people like Jackson understand.”

For a long while after, his words echoed in my head. I couldn’t decide if he was right. It did seem that people like Jackson wouldn’t listen to reason, they only wanted to fight. He and his gang had set their sights on Dylan a long time ago. They pinpointed him as easy prey, because even though he was big and strong, he didn’t have twenty other people to back him up. These types, they always ran in groups. Individually they were cowards, but there was strength in numbers.

I just hoped Dylan could keep his head down long enough to escape their grasp.