Page 96 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

Almost an hour passes, and she gasps when she checks the time. “Dylan, sorry to kick you out, but you have to go now. It’s a school night and your parents must be worried.” All of us stand up and she lightly pats him on the cheek. “You are welcome to come here and see my daughter. I don’t want you out in the street with her, but I want you to remember that you are not the eldest in this house, so you leave your burdens at the door.”

He smiles, one of his very few authentic smiles today. “Thank you, Mrs. Diaz.”

“Goodnight, Dylan. Isa, I want you in bed in ten minutes.”

She goes upstairs to give us some privacy, and I walk him to the door.

“Well, that went better than I expected,” I say.

“She’s not that scary. She’s actually very nice.”

“Dylan, what hap?”

He places his finger on my lips to silence me. “No questions.” His finger slides off, and he replaces it with his mouth. It’s a chaste kiss, and he pulls away a few seconds later. “Goodnight.”

I sigh. “Goodnight.”

He steps out onto the porch, then pulls me into his arms. “Almost forgot your hug, Queen.”

“We’ve hugged plenty today.”

“Those were for me. This one’s for you.”

I grip him tighter because, in the last hour, I’ve seen the Dylan I know. The Dylan I saw earlier was cold and distant and aggressive, whereas this Dylan is warm and playful and caring. He’s like Jekyll and Hyde; one is so different from the other. The only thing they have in common is that they’re both keeping secrets from me.

12. Isabella

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