Taming the Bad Boy Was a Mistake Chapter 03

Taming the Bad Boy Was a Mistake Chapter 03 The Stand-in
The turning point came on Friday night. My mom suddenly called and said the neighbor Auntie Sullivan was back from abroad, and she wanted me to come over for dinner. The important part? Auntie Sullivan’s son, Simon Sullivan, was back too. When we were kids, I followed Simon around like a lost puppy. No arguing with Mom. I texted Dylan to let him know, then rushed off to the restaurant. At the table, Simon sat across from me. A few years apart, and he’d gotten even more refined. Soft black hair, gold-rimmed glasses, shirt buttoned all the way to the top. He spoke softly and smiled like warm sunshine. Dinner went perfectly for everyone. Since it was late, Aunt Sullivan insisted Simon drive me back to campus. Simon drove, chatting about our childhood memories the whole way. The vibe was easy and nice. He pulled up outside my dorm. Simon gallantly opened my door for me. “Nat, we’re here.” I was about to thank him when Simon froze, staring past me. “Is that your friend?” I turned around. Under the streetlight, Dylan was leaning against a tree, an unlit cigarette between his fingers. His silver-gray hair stood out sharply in the night. His face was so dark it looked like it might drip. He walked toward us step by step, his eyes locked hard on Simon. I looked at Simon too. Black hair, gold-rimmed glasses, a shirt collar buttoned tight. Cultured. But also… restrained. Almost monkish. This was exactly the look I’d forced Dylan to adopt. The so-called “hottest style” I’d always gone on about. Boom. Something exploded in my brain. Dylan stopped in front of me. His gaze bounced between Simon and me, then landed on my face. He curled his mouth into a smile sadder than a cry. His voice was so light it could have scattered with the wind: “Natalie, so this is why you made me dye my hair black, wear glasses, and play the good student…” “Because you already had someone in your heart all along.” I looked up stiffly. His dark red Annoyance meter above his head maxed out right then. In that second, I felt like all the air had been sucked out of the world. Raindrops slipped into my collar, cold enough to make me shiver. Dylan stood in the rain, his silver-gray hair plastered to his forehead. Droplets ran down his sharp jawline, over his Adam’s apple, and into his open collar. He looked at me with eyes as hollow as a dried-up well. No anger. No hysteria. Just a terrifying, dead silence. The System sounded an air-raid siren in my mind: [Warning! Warning! Target’s emotional state is off the charts! Annoyance meter— wait, no, the values are glitching! Host, run! He’s extremely dangerous right now!] Run? Where could I run? My legs felt like two pieces of spaghetti. Simon got out, holding a black umbrella. He frowned at Dylan, then me, speaking gently but coldly: “Hey, you’ve got it wrong. Nat and I are just…” “Shut up.” Dylan didn’t spare him a look. His eyes stayed fixed on me, unblinking. He took a step forward. Simon stepped in front of me without thinking. That movement completely lit the fuse. Dylan let out a cold laugh, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. All the viciousness he’d been suppressing for a year came flooding out like a broken dam. “Well played, Natalie.” He nodded, his voice rough as gravel. “So that’s why you changed all of a sudden—let me game, dye my hair, leave you alone.” “The real guy’s back, and you don’t want your fake stand-in around anymore, right?”