Title: Forget Me Not
Author: Seasonal Dreamer
Rating: T (mostly, for now, to be safe :P)
Author's Note: HEY EVERYBODY :D haha well here it is! The sequel to 'Holding On' :D It mayyy not be as insanely long as the first one, but I worked hard on it :D And I hope I live up to my standards! So please read, and review!
P.s. this story is dedicated to my two biggest supporters ellielovesdtng and maplebird :) thank you guys for sticking with me this whole time!
"Hey Paige, have you heard from Dylan recently?" Marco del Rossi asked cautiously, bracing himself.
"No, hon, sorry. I haven't heard from Dylan since he last visited."
That was three weeks ago. Marco looked crestfallen as he sat down across from Paige. It was sunday morning, or, as it was known in the Michalchuk/del Rossi home, homework and study day. Paige Michalchuk looked at him sympathetically. She rested her head against Marco's and said comfortingly, "I'm sure he'll call soon, hon. University is stressful, and I bet if he could he'd talk to you twenty-four seven."
Marco gave her a small, appreciative smile for her sake more than his own. What if Dylan had met someone in University that he really...well, that he really liked? What if he...forgot about him? Marco mentally slapped himself. Oh stop being a melodramatic idiot. Paige is right, University's a lot harder than high school and he's probably swamped right now. He'll call. He has to, it's almost been a full month! Dylan wouldn't forget about you, not after everything we've been through. Or cheat on you for that matter.
Then why hasn't he bothered to return any of your phone calls? A nasty voice leered in his head. He could've texted you, it takes maybe three seconds to do that. Just to let you know why he couldn't call. And that he misses you and loves you...You know, if that were still true.
Shut up! Marco silently growled. Shaking his head to clear it, he turned to the pile of homework they had received that weekend and tried to focus. Jimmy, Spinner, and Ashley came over later to work on it together, but Marco still couldn't concentrate.
"Earth to Marco!" Ashley waved her hands in front of Marco's eyes, bringing him back to reality.
"Wha-?" he sputtered, looking at them as if just realizing they were there.
"You okay, man?" Jimmy asked.
Marco placed a fake smile on his face. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, you just seemed kind of distant."
You have no idea, Marco thought as they all turned back to their work. His gaze, however, kept drifting over to his cell phone, half-heartedly hoping that he had received a message from Dylan and just didn't hear it despite the obnoxious ringtone he had assigned to them.
Paige kept a careful eye on Marco the entire homework session, worried. And angry at her brother. He hadn't been in touch with any of them since he visited almost a month ago, and even then he seemed distracted and not very attentive. Whether it was because he was under so much work stress, or just 'having fun' the younger Michalchuk sadly wasn't sure.
And that was killing them.
"That's it!" Spinner exclaimed, slamming his notebook down on the table. "I don't understand a thing!" He turned to a slightly surprised but highly amused Marco, easily the smartest one of the group. "Help me?" He whimpered.
Paige grinned at her boyfriend, rubbing his arms comfortingly.
Marco rolled his eyes and said, "Alright, what's the problem?"
"I'm stupid," Spinner muttered dejectedly.
"I'm with Spinner on that one," Jimmy laughed, getting a deserved shove from his friend.
"It's all this Shakespeare crap," Spinner grumbled, more to himself then anyone else. "I don't see how this can count as actual English if no one understands it."
"What Sonnet are we doing again? The first one?" Paige asked.
"From fairest creatures we desire increase, that thereby beauty's rose might never die, but as the riper should by time decease, his tender heir might bear his memory," Marco quoted in a beautiful voice, not once looking down at the actual Sonnet.
Everyone stared at him, open mouthed.
"What?" Marco asked self-consciously.
"Dude, this is why I need you!" Spinner cried, grabbing Marco by the shoulders and shaking him slightly.
"Easy, Brokeback Mountain," Jimmy chuckled, loosening Spinner's hold on the Italian boy.
Ashley looked at her friend with extreme admiration. "That was amazing. I'll never know how you seem to know everything. But at least I can always ask you the answers if I'm stuck..."
Marco gave her a wink. "Lucky you."
Ashley grinned, turning back to the Sonnet. Spinner, however, was staring at Marco desperately.
"Okay, okay, Spin, calm down. I'll help. Just tell me what you need to know," Marco conveyed.
"Everything."
Marco ran a hand through his dark hair, struggling to think of how to explain something like Shakespeare to someone who never paid attention in English class a day in his life. However, he did his best and was surprised to see that he actually managed to break through. Weird.
"Hon, you should be a teacher. You've taught Spin more in half an hour then three years of English combined," Paige complimented, impressed.
They were just cleaning up the kitchen as everyone else had gone home. "Huh? Oh, thanks," Marco said absent-mindly. He had converted back to wondering hopelessly about his distant boyfriend.
"You okay?" Paige asked quietly, giving him a concerned look.
Marco smiled as best he could, but his eyes gave him away. "Yeah, of course Paigey. I'm absolutely fine."
Paige nodded, letting the subject drop for now, but started subconsciously biting her lip. They both knew that Marco was lying, but the Italian boy appreciated that Paige, for once, let him leave it at that.
I wonder what he's doing now? Is he going to call soon? Is he really too busy with hockey and work and...friends that he ca-"OW!"
The last part he uttered aloud as his eyes focused on the drumstick that clattered to the ground. Spinner. His hand had flown up to cover the part of his head that had been hit.
The Italian looked up at Spinner Mason's blazing eyes, only they didn't seem so much angry at him for zoning out, then what he assumed his distraction was. Still, Marco flinched. Those eyes demanded a response from him, but it was the kind of response Marco couldn't give.
Spinner might not be the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to anything school related, but people he knew. A street smart over school smart sort of thing.
Marco smiled weakly and stated apologetically, "Sorry, I guess I must've spaced out." The guitar that he had been holding loosely in his hands got shifted into a tighter grip.
"No kidding," Craig rolled his eyes but when his gaze fell on the guitarist it was kind and understanding.
Marco cued them all in and the rest of the band practice when by without a hitch, though if you listened closely you could hear that a guitar's music was off beat and out of tune. Though Craig, being the generous person that he'd always been, apologized that it was his guitar that was acting up so the other bandmates would bother him about it instead of Marco. The lead singer figured Marco had enough troubles to deal with then the wrath of their easily irate band members.
However Spinner wasn't going to play along.
After practice had ended and everyone else had started to leave, Spinner reached over and grabbed a retreating Marco by the collar and successfully stopped him in his tracks. Though it did cause the Italian to emit a starngled and surprised sound.
Spinner, however, looked at him closely. He took in the darkness of his eyes. The black dots that speckled the almost-equally-as-dark brown eyes seemed to be racing like storm clouds, a prediction of the fury that could form later on. A prediction of the hurricane that would come crashing down if he let it, or the sorrowful rain that could fall as tears if he really got hurt by Dylan. But as of right now, they were just clouds.
It was crazy how Marco could make such things appear in his eyes. Like when he got excited, you could've sworn they were lit up just like the starry sky. The twinkle they'd emit was astonishing, and you got excited yourself just by looking in them, regardless of what it was. And when he was bothered and lapsed into silence, you could almost see the metal bars and the brick walls start to build themselves up from deep within his eyes, making you feel suffocated and trapped. It wasn't like Marco tried to make his eyes do that, they just did. His eyes were so powerful that if looks could kill, and Marco really out his mind to it, he would be the army's first line of defense.
"Marco, you need to snap out of it," Spinner spoke suddenly after several moments of deep scrutiny.
Marco looked surprised, though he knew he shouldn't be. The Italian figured that one of these days someone other then Paige would begin to badger him. "What do you mean?"
Spinner lowered his voice to a more gentle tone, though it still had an underlining of force to it. "Look, Marco, I know about Dylan and I know you're distracted, but you need to try and focus on other things. It's for your own good, bud."
Marco lowered his eyes in slight shame. He felt like he was being histrionic and stupid. It had only been about three weeks...maybe four...a month? Anyway, the point was he shouldn't be all depressed about it.
"I know, I won't Spin," Marco lied before he turned on his heels and leaving Spinner with no room for comment.
And despite how sparsely it happened, Spinner was right. But Dylan would be just as distraught as he was, Marco was sure of that.
Right?
T minus six weeks and counting since Dylan had actually acknowledged that Marco existed. And the Italian was getting seriously frustrated.
"Did I do something?" Marco exclaimed to Ellie one day. "Did I say something wrong?" They were sitting on a bench in the mall, shopping bags resting by their feet and sipping a highly caffeinated frappucino.
Ellie Nash gave her friend a sympathetic look and squeezed his hand. "I highly doubt that Marco. You're the perfect boyfriend." She winked. "I should know; I was the first person to take a crack at you."
Despite his mood, Marco gave her an amused smile. But then he sighed. "Then why do I feel like he's moved on?"
For that, Ellie didn't have an answer. It was strange. Dylan went from treating Marco like his entire world, to not calling and not acting like he wanted to be there when he visited. And Ellie was furious to say the least. Marco was the most optimistic, supportive, and emotionally strongest person she had ever known. He was with her for the entire time she went through the whole depressed, cutting epidemic before he had even met Dylan or realized he was gay. Marco had been the most understanding, and though it hurt and saddened him, he didn't judge her for it. She'd never forget that, and she sure as hell wouldn't let some guy put him into the same state she had been in.
She may have seemed cold or mean, but she didn't hug him or shoot him sympathetic looks. Ellie knew better then anyone that those looks were what got to people the most. She hated knowing that people had felt sorry for her and it got real annoying, real fast. Everywhere she went, those looks would follow her and make her lash out at people, which in return made people label her off as a freak and exclude her. It was just a giant domino effect and the last thing she wanted was for Marco to go through that.
"Do you want to just watch a movie tonight? You know, relax?" Ellie suggested, changing the subject.
Marco looked gratefully at her and said, "Sure El. Sounds good." He tried to sound as enthusiastic as he possibly could, but it just was not coming out like it should've. Marco felt bad, but he hadn't been too energetic about anything for a while.
So they walked to Ellie's house(which, thankfully, was pretty close to the mall) and got all comfy on the couch, curling under blankets and making an almost illegal amount of popcorn. They put on only movies that were sure to make them laugh, but while Ellie's were genuine, Marco's were forced. He'd only laugh when Ellie did, so hers would cover how robotic his really was. The Italian really appreciated what Ellie was trying to do, but he knew deep down it was a lost cause. There was only one thing that would make him happy, and sadly, it wasn't able to be there with him.
"How's your band doing?" Ellie asked him suddenly, staring right into his eyes with a hard look. The way she asked that question made Marco feel uneasy.
Looking a bit surprised, Marco answered, "Um...alright. Craig and Jimmy think we should try to do an R&B song, you know, to add a little variety? But I think Spinner thinks that's a muppet, so it might not work." Ellie laughed at that, and Marco smiled a bit, though he was still sad.
She stopped abruptly, looking at him with such intensity that Marco seemed almost crazily sure she could see right into his soul. Marco shifted his gaze away, but her lighter, yet still dark, brown eyes continued to rake over his features almost beseechingly. The Italian almost had the urge to just shout in her face what she wanted from him. But he couldn't do that...it just wasn't him...
"What do you want Ellie?" So much for that.
But she didn't seem offended. In fact, she looked like she almost expected it. "You know, you have the same look in your eyes like I did when my mom started drinking," she said softly, sounding uncharactistically like herself.
Marco almost winced. He knew she had a problem with saying she cut herself, so she would always refer to that period of time as when her mother had started drinking. Not that she hadn't stopped, but it was getting better now that she was better. Gradually, anyway. He just responded with giving her a confused look.
"Your eyes...they've always been...well, unique. Somehow, you've always beem able to make things happen with your eyes...no one else can do that you know," Ellie started. Marco had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. "But there's one thing I recognize because it's what I used to always see whenever I would look in the mirror."
"The point, Ellie?" But Marco asked this gently, knowing how hard it was for her to say these kind of things. Wow. She must really being chewing over this.
"You're eyes look dead, Marco. And I know it's been a while since Dylan has called, but really. This is...this is getting kind of scary." And she did look frightened. The Ellie Nash was afraid. For him. Huh.
Marco gave her a slight roll of his eyes and did his best to smile reassuringly and make whatever was appearing in his eyes get the hell out. The brown haired boy didn't even know his eyes showed that much, and he did his best to try to control it as he spoke, "El, really, don't worry. I'm completely fine, just a bit confused. Honestly, you shouldn't even be bothering yourself with this."
"Marco, I want to be bothered with this," Ellie said insistently, placing a hand over Marco's. He began to feel ridiculous. "I wish someone had bothered me about my...problem...right as it started so I wouldn't have to have..."
Marco withdrew his hand quickly, looking somewhat trapped. "I don't have a problem El." Her smiled at her like he thought she had gone a little crazy.
Ellie raised an eyebrow but said no more. People this far into denial were impossible to reason with. She'd just have to keep her eyes on him, that was all. They both turned back to the movie, determindly, and simultaneously, acting as if their talk had never happened.
Soon, it became too difficult to keep their eyes open, and they decided to throw in the towel on this movie fiesta. Marco pecked Ellie on the cheek as a goodbye, and let himself out of the house. The Michalchuk's house wasn't that far away, and he liked walking during the evening. The air felt cool and refreshing, and most appealing of all, silent and devoid of all people. He could finally give his tired mind a rest and let it just go blank, relishing in the peace of it all.
But not tonight.
"You know, you have the same look in your eyes like I did when my mom started drinking..."
"You're eyes look dead, Marco. And I know it's been a while since Dylan has called..."
Was he really turning into dark, cutting-herself-Ellie?
These thoughts kept vibrating through his head. No, of course not. I'd never do something like that.
But his inner voice had something else to say as well. Maybe not, but obviously something's really wrong if people are starting to think you might.
Leave me alone. He growled at it. Really, this wasn't helping matters.
When Marco finally got there, he quietly let himself into the sleepy house, and tip-toed up the stairs. Exhausted, Marco crashed on the bed and fell asleep before his head even hit the pillow.
Let me know what you think! But, you know, first read the next chapter ;) haha I put up two for you guys ;) -
