Avonlea Barlowe takes care of Dylan Sinclair

Avonlea filled up her day with taking care of Dylan. She knew he needed it. Dylan protested as much as he could, oftentimes trying to sit up to prove he was fine. That usually ended up with him wincing like never before until Avonlea forced him to lay back down. Taking care of him was a handful. She wondered how his parents must do it. Yikes.

Dylan was currently asleep. Avonlea didn't mean to be rude, but, thank goodness. Like she had said, taking care of him was a lot of work. Deciding to make some soup for the both of them, Avonlea laid a blanket over Dylan before making her way over to the kitchen. She threw an apron on before putting the broth in a pot and starting to chop up ingredients.

It was around an hour later when Avonlea was done. She decided to not wake up Dylan as she put his bowl of soup in the microwave before taking hers to the dining table and beginning to eat. This alone time allowed her to drown in her own thoughts.

Although her thoughts clouded everything around her, her hand continued to scoop up the soup and bring the spoon to her lips. What had happened to him? He was fine yesterday. So, that means that after he left her house something had happened to him. But what? Had he met up with some friends and something happened? Or maybe he met someone in the street and they pissed each other off?

It may have been because Avonlea had such a perfect home life that she never once questioned if it was the people at his own home doing this to him.

"Avonlea?" Dylan called out from the living room. This snapped Avonlea out of her thoughts as her spoon froze in mid air. It seemed her soup was almost gone. Putting her spoon back in her bowl, she walked out into the living room and saw Dylan laying there, trying to get up.

"Woah woah woah." Exclaimed Avonlea. Gently, she put her hands on his shoulders and eased him back down into a lying position. "What were you doing?" She questioned, clearly concerned.

"I was going to look for you." Dylan spoke between wincing. That simple sentence, made Avonlea's heart flutter like it never had before. "I thought I heard you making something. What did you make?" It was Avonlea's guess that this was his way of asking for food. Interesting, yet kind of polite. Avonlea's heart did another flutter of joy.

Putting her finger up in a 'hold on' motion, she scurried into the kitchen, popped open the microwave and got his slightly cooled off soup. Making sure to add in a spoon, she walked out of the kitchen and set the bowl down on the coffee table. "It's soup." She hummed. Dylan chuckled at her blatant words and nodded his head. This made Avonlea's cheeks flush a deep, dark red.

Dylan pushed his arms against the couch, trying to sit up. This boy. Aovnlea rushed over to help him, but by Dylan's look it was quite obvious he didn't want any help. Although incredibly reluctant, Avonlea slowly nodded her head and took only a small step back. She didn't want to completely be out of the way in case he needed her help again.

To her surprise, he fully sat up on his own. Smiling widely at him, Avonlea raised her hands up above her head in surrender. "I stand corrected." She hummed. Dylan chuckled and Avonlea soon joined in. It seemed the two were beginning to be more comfortable around each other. Dylan just wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Are you okay with eating it? If not, I can make something else. I don't want to trouble you and your injuries." Dylan playfully rolled his eyes at her.

"It's okay. Calm down." Dylan spoke. Just to add effect, his left eye closed in a wink motion towards Avonlea. He always seemed to know what to do to make Avonlea's cheeks flush the perfect shade of red. Maybe this relationship that they have right now isn't so bad. Maybe Dylan likes it. However, he is not so sure.

The day was pretty calm. Dylan ate his soup and they just talked. They seemed to get really close over the few hours that they were together. Closer than anyone else could. But, neither one of them questioned it. Dylan had nothing to refer to, and Avonlea was too caught up in Dylan to begin wondering why they were so close under such a short period of time.

Neither one of them knew that this would turn out to be a horrible, tragic mistake.

After a few hours, school was long over. They had ditched. Wait. They had ditched! Trent was going to kill Dylan. Avonlea knew her mother wouldn't mind given the circumstances, but Trent and Sam were definitely going to have a problem with this. Crap…

Dylan, although he concealed it well, started to panic. His foster parents were going to flip out on him. Apparently he didn't hide it well enough, as Avonlea began to notice his panicked state. "Dylan, are you okay?" As if forgetting that they had ever gotten closer, Dylan's only response was a nod. A simple, curt, silent nod.

Feeling… deflated, Avonlea nodded her head and turned her body away from Dylan's slouched one and towards the TV. Her mind, once again, filled with the thoughts of Dylan. He seemed so open before. So carefree. What was he thinking about that caused his walls to shoot straight up?

Maybe it was the same thing that gave him all of those bumps, cuts, and bruises. Avonlea would have wished she was never right.

"Umm, I'll have to be going soon." Dylan knew the longer he stayed here, the more trouble he would be in, But, after his words, Avonlea's face only showed confusion.

"You're in no place to be leaving. You-" She stopped mid sentence as they both heard a car pull into the driveway.