Deceive

Chapter 3

We’ve been walking for hours. The sun has moved above us, slowly creeping into our line of sight. We passed a sign declaring what city we’re in. The sign means nothing to me, I can’t read it anyway.

The sun is setting, the gray sky painted in gold and orange. The prettiest part of the day, Dylan’s green eyes seem to catch the light, making them glow. Colours I've never seen before show up in his eyes. I’ve started looking for the different shades of green in his eyes when he looks at me. They’re fascinating.

“Ok, that building over there seems good.” Dylan said, pointing to a squat building, once brightly painted but now dull. Sleek cars of all colours sit out the front.

Old Jeff, a friend of my parents, had a car, but it looked nothing like this. Old Jeff’s car was blue and rusted and squeaked when you opened the door, it was interesting to a 7 year old me. Jeff was kind to me, found hope in my existence. He let me poke around his stuff and taught me how to drive, but when I was 10 he got sick, cancer is what Jeff had said. I didn’t know what cancer was, still don’t. But it took Jeff away from me and I hate it. He said I could have his car ‘Betsy’ he called it. On the rearview he hung two stuffed dice, one pink and one white. I couldn’t bring Betsy with me so I brought that, a piece of Jeff.

Pushing open the door to the building I walked inside like I owned the place. No one was inside, just a couple of desks, a mini fridge and another door at the end of the long room. Pushing open the door I found a flushing toilet and a running tap.

“Must be connected to a water tank.” Dylan’s voice startled me, I let it show. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said in the same soothing voice he used before.

“There’s soda in the mini fridge. You ever had soda?” I shook my head. Stepping out of the room he gestured for me to follow.

Soda was a sweet drink that made my tongue feel weird when I drank it. The prickling sensation of the lemonade, Dylan had called it, was new and strange. The soda was found in the mini fridge with a few chocolate bars, they were different from the others I’ve had before, with nuts and this gooey stuff Dylan called caramel.

I found myself letting my constant guard and facade down the more time I spent with Dylan. I expected to feel scared but instead I felt relieved. I don’t enjoy lying, I’m tired of always being someone else. Acting, lying, deception, manipulation, all things I despise yet they helped me survive.

Dylan slept by the door to outside and I slept by the door to the bathroom, mostly. I lied awake most the night, sure he would make a move for me or my stuff. But he didn’t.

We’re walking again. I started talking to him. Small questions about him. He’s seen the ocean before, likes the colour gold, likes soda. I didn’t ask about the colony. And he didn’t tell.

“Have yo—” I was interrupted by a strange noise. It came from the left of me. I looked at Dylan questionly.

“Is that a dog?” He whispered. A dog? What’s a dog? A four legged thing came bounding out of the buildings. It was white and grey, with blue eyes and a pink tongue that can’t seem to find it’s way back into it’s odd mouth. Dylan knelt down a bright smile splitting his face, the animal jumped into his arms. I saw huge teeth as it opened its mouth to pant, l*****g at Dylan’s face. I was horrified, the thing was huge.

“It’s okay, Hope. She’s friendly.” He was still smiling. He started talking to it, asking it things. It just replied by Iicking his face.

“She?” I screeched.

“What in the world is ‘SHE’?” I asked horrified. Dylan raised an eyebrow, before his smile faltered. He blinked.

“You don't know what a dog is?” He questioned quietly. I shook my head frantically.

“It’s okay, she won’t bite.” I ran his hands through its fur. It looked pleased and kind of cute. I swallowed. Slowly reaching out my hand towards its odd shaped head. I didn’t dare close my eyes. It was impossibly soft, it closed its eyes as I pet it. I knelt down next to Dylan as I continued to pet the dog.

“She doesn't seem to have an owner. What should we name her?” Dylan asked as he turned his head back to me. I shrugged, moving my hand down to her back.

“Betsy.” I said. The dog’s ears stood up. “Betsy.” I tried again. She opened her mouth letting out the same strange sound that I heard earlier.

“That’s a bark.” Dylan said. I hadn’t realised my confusion was showing on my face. He offered me a small smile.

Betsy I can honestly say is my new best friend. I’ve never had a friend. Betsy is my first. I love her. We all made our way out of the city. Into the woods, the sun was setting again as we set up the sleeping bags. Dylan left to get wood for a fire, the nights are getting cold. The year is almost over. Lying down on my sleeping bag, Betsy positions herself over me. Ears flat against her head, she looked around. After her observation she settled her paws on my back, resting her head on her paws. I smiled, never have I felt as safe as I do now.