Alright, first of all, thanx to all of you that have taken the time to read and review, or even just read my previous chapters. You're all great!

Your reviews are all helpful, it's nice to know ppl like it, and that there are certain things that could be better. I know that when I write stories, they are a bit full of detail, making them sorta slow. I'll try to pick up the pace a little bit.

luvluv: I originally had the entire scene from the photo booth till when Dylan walks away, but it seemed a bit too much, so I cut it down a little. Glad u liked it.

And btw: When I started this fanfic, I had no idea where I would let it lead to, but I had a flash of inspiration (gotta love a nice breeze and the warm sun ) and now I have some interesting action to include. The pace will pick up soon, but this chapter won't be so pacy yet.

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Chapter 3 – Truce with the truth

Slowly, his trembling hand embraced the cold, steel doorknob. Funny thing how something as trivial as this is making me so incredibly nervous. He would have liked to run away and think about it some more, but he knew it would only delay the inevitable. This way, it would be over quickly. Besides, it decreased the chances of his mother telling his father, if she hadn't already.

Not nearly as ready for the trials that lay beyond the door as he would have liked, he opened the door. As it did, he could see his mother standing over by the stove, preparing today's dinner. His father sat at the kitchen table, reading the paper as usual. For a few moments, Marco didn't move. He was just waiting for a response. None came.

Incredibly relieved, he smiled and walked in, practically slamming the door shut as he did. Noth his parents looked up, a minor shock visible on their faces. 'Marco, my boy, what's wrong?' His father was the first to respond, gazing just over the financial pages of the newspaper. 'I...It's nothing pa, I'm just really happy right now.' His face was beaming with joy. 'Why, what happened at school? Did you already win the election? I thought voting was going to be this Friday.' He was smiling now, too, seeing as his eyes were slightly squinted. 'Oh, and speaking of the election, your mother brought me the perfect picture. Look at this.'

He laid down his paper and grabbed one of the posters that lay next to the sink. With an unmistakable look of pride on his face, he held up the dark red poster, which had a huge black and white picture of Marco centered upon it, and the line 'Vote Marco del Rossi for President!' Marco smiled. Although the picture was horrible, he was very glad with this poster, mostly because it had been made by his father. 'It's great, papa, thanks. And no, the voting is still on for Friday, so that means about three and a half days to promote muself. My competition will be blown away, because they, unlike me, have no plans whatsoever.'

Marco's mother turned around to face the two. 'Oh, I'm so proud of my little boy. Now please clear the table, I made my famous pasta sauce for my two favorite men.' She wore a big smile and turned over to the sink, where she did some last minute cleaning.

Over the course of dinner, nobody spoke. Maybe because they were all enjoying the meal, but Marco was silent for another reason, and he could see his mother had her own reasons, too. That more or less spoiled his appetite, and he couldn't muster taking more than a bite and a nibble. When his father asked him why he wasn't eating, his mother told him to be quiet. If Marco wasn't hungry, so be it.

Afer dinner, they did the dishes and after cleaning up a bit, his father anounced he was going bowling with some friends from work. Strange. Papa never goes out on week nights. What's the occasion? No five minutes later, his mother asked him to sit down.

'Mama, I know how this must be for you. Trust me, I've been there. Just know that I;m still your son. Marco del Rossi, no more and no less than before.' He sighed. So that's why he left. Maybe it was for the best. 'Oh, Marco, I know. You will always be my son, my pride. I will love you no matter what, even if you are...' She was uncomfortable. Understandable, because she was from Italy, Rome nonetheless, the capitol of christianity. 'You can say gay, ma. It's not a bad thing. I just happen to love...well, guys.'

She almost started crying again, and Marco was nervewrecked. Seeing his mother cry made him feel sad, angry at himself, guilty for making his mother go through this. It was, after all, his fault. 'I know dear, I'm sorry if I made you feel bad, but this is just a bit much. I always suspected something, the way you were with Dylan, how you looked at him. I knew, but I was still shocked when you told me. You have to understand that I;m worried about you. What will everyone at school say? And what about your father? I'm scared for you, Marco, that's all.'

She put her hands in front of her face and sobbed. 'Mama, I have known for over a year now, and almost everyone at school knows about me and Dylan. I'm sorry I didn;t tell you first, but I figured I can always change schools if they hate me for it. I can't trade you, you're the only thing I can always count on. I guess I just used my friends as some sort of buffer. I'm glad I told you, I really, really am, but I;m terrified of what papa might say, or worse, do to me. You saw how he snapped at that weigther the time you found me and Dylan at the movies.'

Mrs Del Rossi was concerned, as she should be. 'I think it would be best if we keep this a secret for now. Maybe I can find a way to soften up your father for you, or at least try to find out how he would react to this. For now, just try to do your homework and win that election for me, okay?' Marco nodded, and they hugged for a while, right in the middle of the kitchen.

Marco rushed to his room, dying to call Dylan and tell him the big news. He called him on his cell, and after a few rings he got the voicemail on. Maybe his dorm number. He called that number, but all it did was ring without anyone picking up. I'll call Paige. Maybe he's there. This time, somebody did pick up. 'Paige here, how can I help?' 'Paige? It's Marco. Hey, do you know where Dylan is? Is he over at your place?' A few moments of silence built up the tension over the line. 'Uhm...no. Why do you ask?' 'Well, you know how I told my mom I'm gay and everything? We had this amazing talk just now, and I want to call Dyl to tell him everything. He's just, not answering his cell, or his regular phone. Do you have any idea where he might be?' After a few more nervewrecking moments of silence, he could hear Paige yelling. 'Spin, keys, car, now!' A ruffled noise and then Paige was on again. 'hon, I;m getting the car. Me and Spin will be at your door within a few minutes. We're going to pay him a visit. Don't worry, he's probably just sleeping or something. Be ready for us. Bye.'

Before he could respond, she had already hung up. He seriously disliked Paige's way of acting impulsively and wasting no time on anything resembling a plan, but this time he was grateful for it. He quickly put on a hat and a jacket and rushed downstairs. This is definately worth losing another night's homework over. Soon, he would see him and tell it all, and they would be fine. Soon...