What does she feel?

Dylan was going over to Avonlea's house. At first, she said that she would be more comfortable being at his, but he was quick to decline. There was no way anyone, let alone Avonlea, could come to his house. That would be very, very bad. If he was being honest, Dylan Sinclair was proud of denying Avonlea Barlowe. She had looked up at him with a pout on her lips and the biggest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen. What was her reason for not wanting to go to her house? Dylan guessed he would find out soon enough since he had stayed strong and didn't budge with her coming over.

For the time remaining in class, Avonlea and Dylan talked about what their project should be, Avonlea doing most of the talking. Dylan, although he would never admit it to himself, was just watching her in awe. How she had a bright, gleaming smile on her face whenever she talked about something she loved or that she had a deep connection to. How her eyes would shine in delight at Dylan's nods, how her hair flew around her head when she got so excited she couldn't sit still. She truly was quite the character. A character that Dylan couldn't get enough of. Not ever.

Soon, the bell rang loudly in everyone's ears, making Avonlea jump and stop mid-sentence. Dylan didn't give many responses, he just enjoyed listening to her ideas and giving input when need be. He wasn't much of a talker. He couldn't be. Clearing his throat softly, they both stood up and packed up their things. "So… are we going to walk to my house? Or possibly take a bus? I don't have a car." Avonlea's shy voice spoke from behind him. Dylan only shook his head, motioning for her to follow him out into the parking lot.

"It'll be easier to just take my car." He spoke. What Dylan didn't know was how his deep, silvery voice rang in Avonlea's ears.

Avonlea smiled at Dyan, nodding her head. She, just like Dylan, felt a… well, pull towards him. She didn't know why she found herself drawn to the mystery that he was. Or why she felt the need to explain all of her ideas and lay them out on the table for him to agree or disagree with. She had never been like this before, so why him? Avonlea had wanted to go to his house. To see what the mystery man was hiding from the world in his home, to get a glimpse of who he really is. Just a little glimpse. However, she didn't want to push him so hard. Maybe there was something in his house that he didn't want anyone to know about. That only sparked her interest even more.

Avonlea didn't want to go to her house. Not for anything sincere or deep, but just for the reason of her mother. Avonlea Barlowe's mother, Dawn Barlowe, had been getting on Avonlea to meet a boy, or two. Her mother's words, not hers. Avonlea just didn't see the appeal. Until now. But, she knew how her mother would react. She would probably go as far as giving Dylan flowers and chocolates and hoodies, oh my! It would certainly cause her cheeks to redden in pure embarrassment.

Dylan's shoes made a soft squeak every now and then, making Avonlea look at his feet with a furrow of her eyebrows. Darn shoes. After a moment of walking through the crowded hallways of the high school, they made it to the parking lot where Dylan's grey Honda stood. It was a good car, pretty cheap from the sketchy guy that he bought it from. He didn't care back then, and he doesn't care now, he just needs a car to get from one place to another.

Avonlea and Dylan got into the car, Dylan putting her address into the navigator that was built into the car.

The car ride was silent. Dylan tapped his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel, not used to anyone besides him being in his car. It was strange. Avonlea shifted in the passenger seat uncomfortable, deciding to try and make this car ride a tad bit less awkward and uncomfortable. Leaning over, she turned on the radio and smiled as a song she knew came on. That should help a bit. Dylan turned to Avonlea to see what she was doing and smiled. She thought the same thing he did. The car ride was soon filled with some song on the radio and, occasionally, a few mumbles of Avonlea as she sang the song to herself the whole ride.

After a few minutes, they pulled into a driveway. The house was painted a very light, almost white, pink color with blinding white gutters. The door was a soft cream color and the lawn and the small garden were perfectly green and healthy. This is what Dylan imagined as a normal, happy family house. The house he always wanted, to say the least. The sidewalk leading up to the door was clean of any stains or mysterious substances like it had been washed or hosed down recently.

Avonlea watched as Dylan looked around her house in awe. Was something wrong with her house? Did he not like it for some reason? Gulping down her worries, she climbed out of the car and went to the front door, patiently waiting for him to follow her.

Catching the hint, Dylan Sinclair jumped up in surprise, rushing over to the front door. "I'm going to warn you now, my mother can be a bit… crazy." Avonlea Barlowe gave Dylan Sinclair an apologetic smile before she swung the door open, making Dylan take in the sight. It was a very large, open house. Windows casting in so much light that there seemed to be no electronic lights. The house was mainly a light wood with a few patches of brick or another material. To his right, there was the living room with a few leather couches and some plush couches. To his left, there was the kitchen where Avonlea's mother seemed to be cooking away in.

"Avonlea honey, who's this?"