I entwine my arm through his and lean my head on his shoulder because I feel like an idiot for complaining about my parents. Parents who only want me to succeed. They gave me shelter and food. Who cares that they gave me extra homework on top of my school requirements? I had parents who cared for me.
“Don’t pity me,” Dylan says in a low voice.
I remove my arm and stand up straight next to him. A rush of guilt hits me.
Dylan stops us on the street corner. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, but I’ve had people pity me my whole life.”
“I don’t.” Although I kind of do, I’ll keep that to myself.
“I made a life for myself.”
“You did, and you’ve done amazing.”
He offers me a soft smile as I take the familiar role of his cheerleader. “I wouldn’t have been able to get out if it wasn’t for one person, and if you want to know the true reason Jax and I are where we are now, a lot of it has to do with her.” He nods toward the cemetery across the street.
“Who?”
The light changes and we walk across, dodging the pedestrian traffic on the other side. When we come together again on the other side, we enter the small cemetery attached to a Catholic church. He’s quiet as we walk a path through the rows of burial plots. This cemetery doesn’t have huge granite headstones carved with quotes about their lives. There are no statues of angels or crosses. Everyone has a small rectangular marker with their name and birth and death dates.
He walks a path he definitely has memorized until he stops under a tree and shoves his hands into his pockets. “She’s the one who helped me, and that’s why Jax hates me the way he does.”
My heart breaks as I read the name.
Chapter Eight
Dylan
Bringing Rian to Winnie’s burial plot isn’t what I had on the agenda today. I wanted us to have a fun day. But after another asshole brought up the problems between Jax and me, I knew I owed her some answers. Especially since she opened her chest and let her heart fall out on the train ride here.
“She died our senior year. I’d already aged out of the system, but she let me stay through graduation. Hell, she would’ve let me stay after too. But Jax was a month shy of aging out, so he had to go to another family.” My mind floats back to that time. Jax and I were best friends, along with Knox, but we fought like brothers. “She left me her savings with the stipulation that I had to use it on myself to attend school.”
I look at Rian and she nods.
“Jax went to a shitty house for his last month of high school, but again, that’s his story to tell.” I’ve never told anyone Jax’s story and I won’t start now, even if our relationship is in disrepair.
She nods again. “I thought it was whoever that Naomi girl is who came between you?”
My head whips in her direction. “No. The Naomi situation wasn’t good, but it was only a symptom of the problem.”
I’ve told her enough at this point. Time to take a turn off memory lane. Rian’s and my childhoods couldn’t have been more opposite. The pity in her eyes is driving me insane, making me want to punch the trunk of that nearby oak tree.
I stare at the grave marker and read her name. Winifred Ann Carlson. Although it doesn’t say mother, she was one. To so many kids, but most of all to me. Everything I’ve done since the day she died in that hospital bed, I’ve done for her.
I bend down and run my hands over the etching, removing the dead leaves from around the small stone.
“Ready?” I say to Rian when I stand again.
“Yeah.” Her voice cracks.
More reason to get the hell out of here. I’m probably not going to find myself a new tattoo artist in New York City who wants to live in Cliffton Heights anyway, even if I was still in the mood to do so.
We walk out of the cemetery and stand on the street corner, waiting for the light to turn. A couple walks over to wait near us. They have a dog and Rian bends down to pet it, asking its name. They tell us how they just adopted him down the street from a shelter that didn’t think it’d be able to keep their doors open.
“Oh, that’s so sad.” Rian looks at them with sad puppy eyes.
“There are two more there. She tried to get me to adopt all three,” the man says with a nod to the woman. “We can barely put food on our table. We can’t feed three dogs.”
I laugh, remember Winnie saying she couldn’t take any more kids because the government pays shit and if she can’t feed herself, how can she feed others? But she took in Jax even after she had been laid off, and she made it work.
The woman bends down to Rian’s level. “They’re so cute. The people at the shelter said they aren’t getting enough donations. I’m not sure how anyone with a heart can just walk by.”
The light changes, so the guy tells the woman to pick up the dog so they can cross.
Rian looks at me. “Are you allergic to dogs?”
I shake my head, wishing I could lie to her. “No, but—”
“Do you know if Jax is?”
“I’d like to say yes.”
She pulls out her phone and dials him up while walking in the direction the couple came from. “Hey, Jax, are you allergic to dogs?”
My blood shouldn’t boil that she has his number, but I feel it heating anyway.
“You’ll have to pay that ridiculously high pet deposit to the landlord,” I say.
Rian turns around, putting the phone to her chest. “I have some savings.”
“What’s happened to you?” I ask. First, she’s going to cheat on the math problem and now she suddenly wants a dog?
“Great. And you don’t mind?” She smiles at whatever Jax has said. “Oh, Dylan and I are in the city and there are these dogs at this shelter that might be closing.” Rian finishes her conversation and hangs up with Jax while we walk another block.
“Do you really think any of us can take care of a dog?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, but it sounds like fun and they need homes.”
I put my hand on her arm to stop her and she steps out of the way of pedestrian traffic, moving to the edge of the sidewalk. “Are you doing this because I’m a foster kid?”
The excitement drains from her face. I feel like I just told a kid that Santa Claus isn’t real. Fuck.
“No. That’s not why.”
“Okay, just making sure.” I step back onto the sidewalk and she joins me, not nearly as excited as she was before. “I want to make sure you’re not on some do-good kick now that I told you about Winnie. It can be contagious, you know?”
“What can?”
“You hear a story about how someone did good and you want to replicate it.”
She pulls me aside by the sleeve, closer to the buildings. “That’s not why. For the first time, I wasn’t thinking of the consequences of something. I saw the dog. The dog was cute. I wanted the dog. That was all. But let me ask you a question…”
“Spit it out,” I say.
She still hems and haws for a moment.
“Rian, I can take it.”
“Well… don’t you ever want to repay what Winnie did for you?”