"Dylan's never had a girlfriend before. He's gonna need one eventually," Ethan shrugs. I want to laugh from how nonchalant he is about it. Me and Dylan dating? There's no way that will ever happen. Becoming friends has been a pleasant surprise, but I don't think it will go further than this. It probably wouldn't work out between us. Dylan doesn't seem like he wants anything serious anyway. "Now, Ethan, I know you're not talking about me," Dylan says behind me. Ethan laughs before he says "Gotta go." He runs to the living room, leaving me and Dylan alone. Did Dylan hear the whole conversation? I hope not. I don't want Dylan to think I'm weird for talking about dating him. Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I stand up and walk into the kitchen. "Funny kid," I say, chuckling a bit. "He's a trip. Sometimes he hangs out with Anthony too much," he shakes his head. "Anyway, did you get the answers you need from the almighty Ethan?" My single takeaway is getting rid of Jacob. I'm only trying to see the good in him and I'm not realizing how much more he could hurt me. "Not all the answers, but some." "Ten-year-old's," he shrugs. "They know more than us." "So, what now?" I ask, not really wanting to leave just yet. Hanging out with Ethan is fun. Plus, we get to talk about Dylan behind his back. He picks up his backpack from the ground in the hall. "You can hang out with Ethan for a second while I throw my bag in my room. We can go sit by the pool here in a bit." There's something that makes me curious about his room. Dylan is good at putting up barriers and seeing his room might break some of those. "I want to see your room," I say, before I can stop myself. He raises his eyebrow before smirking. "I didn't realize that's what you wanted." I roll my eyes, but my cheeks burn from embarrassment. "That's so not what I meant. I just want to see what you have." He seems hesitant, but he nods. "Okay, weirdo. Follow me." I trail behind him and passing the laundry room, I remember standing in there with him while I dried off after falling in the pool. That day seems like it happened forever ago. Dylan opens a door at the end of the hallway and instead of it opening to a regular room, there are stairs that lead to darkness. "What's this?" I ask him. "My room," he says, reaching in and switching on a light. "You scared?" I hold out my hand. "No, but go ahead." He laughs and descends down the stairs first. I follow suit, practically jogging to keep up with him. "Is this supposed to be a basement or something?" I ask. "Yeah. This way I get some kind of privacy." Makes sense. I wonder if Derrick still lives at home. Is it usually just Dylan and Ethan? Or do his parents come home at certain times? Will I meet them? Dylan's laugh brings me out of my thoughts. "Don't look so scared, Lace. It's just my room. You've been in a guy's room before, haven't you?" My cheeks warm. "Well, yeah, but it's your room," I point out. Jacob and I usually hung out in his room while I was at his house. As we reach the bottom of the stairs I take a deep breath, preparing myself. His room is like any other guys room, I guess. His king-sized bed has a dark blue comforter and matching pillows. Of course, it's unmade. I glance around and see a shelf with CD's piling up, which interests me because not a lot of people have CD's anymore. A few items of clothing are strewn across the floor. The walls have a few band posters. Names such as Mudvayne, Chevelle, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers are among others I don't recognize. Dylan has specific taste in music. "What do you think?" he asks me. "I think it's like any other guys room," I tell him. "I'm not sure if I expected it to be so...typical." I didn't exactly expect a dungeon, but I didn't really expect it to look...normal. He crosses his arms. "What were you expecting?" "I really don't know." "Well, this is my lair and it's exactly how I want it," he smiles to himself as he throws his backpack on his bed. "It's good to know you cleaned up beforehand," I say, gesturing to the clothes on the floor. He waves it off. "Don't worry about it," he says, smirking. He's serious for a second and seems to be thinking hard about something. "What?" I ask. "I'm gonna show you something," he says, walking toward the steps. "If you tell anyone about this, I will torture you until you can't take it anymore." I can't help but laugh despite the nervous feeling in my stomach. What is he going to show me? He starts walking up the stairs and disappears from my sight. "What are you doing?" I ask him. "Just trust me." And I do. There's a small click and the lights go out. I'm about to ask what's going on, but a small light above me flickers, catching my attention. Like stars, tiny lights cover the ceiling. They're everywhere, flickering on and off while others stayed on.