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Chapter Six
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Marco came home and began cooking some snacks for his empty stomach. It had been growling since the end of English class. He sat in the kitchen and ate for a few minutes before the telephone rang.
"Hello, Del Rossi residence?"
"Hey Marco... it's Ellie."
"Ell, what's up?"
"What did Raditich do to you?"
"Nothing. I said I didn't know who wrote on my locker and he let me go."
"So, you lied to him."
"What do you mean I lied to him?"
"Don't give me that crap. You know who did that."
"No. I don't."
"Bullshit! What about what happened in the park, and now your locker is defaced. You are just going to pretend it never happened? Brush it off?"
"Whatever, Ellie. I'm eating right now. You're ruining my appetite with your meddling. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
He hung up, feeling instantly sorry for acting like such an asshole. The phone rang again and he snatched it up, "Hello, Ellie, I'm sorry!"
"Marco, hey."
"Oh. . .Dylan. . . I thought you were someone else."
"That's okay. My voice sounds a little girly at times."
"I, um, what's going on?"
"I just wanted to see how you were. I heard about your locker."
"Right. . .no big deal."
"It is a big deal. Did Raditich make you clean it off?"
"No...who-?"
"That's what he made me do when someone spray-painted my locker."
"T-This has happened to you?"
"Yeah, a few times. And with some other friends of mine."
"Oh...um, could you hold on a moment? Someone is on the other line."
"Sure."
"Great. Thanks."
Marco pressed the flash button.
"Hello?"
"It's Super Bitch, known as Ellie Nash."
"No, Ell, I should be sorry for acting like that."
"Hey, it's fine. I'm sorry too. You've had a stressful day, and I'm on my nerves edge as well."
"Why?"
"Science quiz tomorrow. I have to cram tonight."
"That's right... I should get to work on that too."
"So, I called to apologize, and I found your History notebook in my bag."
"Wonderful! I thought I had lost it."
"Yeah, and I see that you have fifteen pages of Dylan's name scribbled in it?"
"Ellie, you're looking in it?"
"And your inside cover has his name in little red hearts-"
"Ellie, stop!"
"Oh, there's writing. Wow, essays on why he's perfect. Oh, and a list of names... 1. Mr. Marco Michalchuk-"
"Ellie!"
"2. Marco and Dylan Del Rossi-Michalchuk-"
"STOP IT!"
"3. Mr. and Mr. -"
"I MEAN IT, CUT IT OUT!"
"That one sounds a bit lame..."
"E-L-L-I-E!"
"God, I wish I could see your face. It must be beet red right now."
"..."
"Okay, Okay. Sorry, I couldn't resist."
"Dylan's on the other line. I have to get back to him."
"Okay, I'll let you go back to talking to your boyfriend."
"Shut up and thank you. Oh, and I want that notebook back tomorrow."
"Alright... once I'm done photocopying it and posting it inside Dylan's locker."
"I'm going to hurt you..."
"Sorry. I promise you'll get it back. Bye."
"Bye, Ellie."
He pressed the flash button again.
"Are you still there?"
"Yep. What was going on?"
"Just Ellie being Ellie. So, what are you up to?"
"Nothing really, just got back from hockey practice. Wanted to see if you were doing anything. Are we still on for Saturday?"
"Absolutely."
"Are you doing anything now?"
"Not really."
"Great. See you later."
"Okay... see you."
Marco hung up the phone. He was going to have to get back at Ellie somehow. He stepped out into the family room and studied his Science textbook. After ten minutes, nothing was going in. He couldn't concentrate. The doorbell rang and he got up to answer it. To his astonishment, the tall, good-looking Dylan Michalchuk stood on his doorstep, grinning that extraordinary grin.
It was like all the air had left his lungs. Marco oogled. "Uh...uh...wh-what are you doing here?"
"Well, you said you weren't doing anything and assumed you were bored... wait, did I come at a bad time?"
The younger boy mumbled, "I was. . .I was going to study for a test. . ."
Dylan looked disappointed.
"Oh, I'm sorry for bothering you."
He started to turn away and Marco quietly reached out, brushing his hand on his arm, "You can stay. . .you don't have to leave. . ." Dylan looked at his arm that was being held, then at Marco mildly. The Italian boy realized what he was doing and pulled away, flushing.
"I wouldn't be a problem to you?"
Marco said, "No. I was planning on making a big dinner but I would have too many leftovers to put in the refrig-"
The blond raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking me to dinner?" It only made him flush more.
"No...I mean, if you want to...yeah..."
Dylan stepped inside, smiling.
"What are we having?" As Dylan went to go take off his jacket and shoes, Marco wanted to dance around like a maniac. This was too good to be true! In return of getting a dinner, the older boy helped him study for his test and they shared a nice pasta dinner together. Night had begun to fall. The stars above twinkled brightly, as they went out to Marco's cool grassy backyard. Dylan left a moment and came back with a red and white striped picnic blanket. He laid it down, and they sat on it, staying silent for a few moments. Dylan got into a more comfortable position, laying down on his back with his hands behind his head. "You have a nice home."
Marco responded, "Thanks." He glanced at Dylan who was gazing up at the stars mutely. A question slipped from Marco's lips, "What do you see in me?"
Dylan's cornflower eyes blinked questioningly.
"What do you mean?"
"Out of all the people in our school, of all the people in the world...Why me?"
Dylan didn't look at him, "To be honest, I'm not sure. I mean, it would seem that we couldn't be together. You're two years younger than me, a little strange, and inexperienced in the dating field." The darker boy wanted to disappear, but he felt a hand take his. Dylan sat up and laced his fingers through his. "Despite all of those things, I know you are different from any of the people I have dated. You have a unique way of seeing things. You are down-to-earth, and I think it's sweet when you blush."
Marco smiled.
"Marco, I don't understand it. I don't know if I ever will... all I know is that you're special to me. I truly care for you. When I look at you, I see a warm, kind, beautiful person that doesn't deserve all of the bad things to happen to you at your age." The blond whispered, "If I could, I would have gone back in time to stop those people but I can't. I can only help you now in the present. I always will."
Marco was grinning on the inside.
"Does that answer your question?"
He nodded, afraid that his voice would fail him.
"Swell, now, what do you see in me?"
Marco became anxious at his question. How could he possibly explain how miraculous this boy was? Dylan did such a remarkable job describing him/.. what if he said something stupid?
Dylan gave him a heartening squeeze with his hand still entwined with his.
Marco uttered, the words came so easily to him, "I see a terrific hockey player and gifted person. A good friend who knows how to handle himself and isn't afraid of sticking up for what he thinks is right. A caring, extremely gorgeous, brilliant guy who has an amazing sense of humor. . ." He trailed off, blushing. Now he was just rambling.
"I'm the only who should be blushing, I didn't know you thought I was extremely gorgeous."
Marco stammered nonsense, turning more red by the second. Dylan just chortled, grinning at him and laying back down. The younger boy joined him, not making body contact though, except for their hands that stick up, fingers still weaved together. Marco looked at the older boy and couldn't help but stare longer than he normally would.
In the distance, a phone rang.
"I'll be right back." He ran inside, replying to the last ring, "Hello, Del Rossi residence?"
"Marco, it's me."
"Hey, Ma."
"How are you?"
"I'm good. I just had dinner."
"Good good. Are you okay alone?"
"Yes, Mama."
"Your Papa and I are coming home Friday. . .if you get lonely, you can stay at a friend's house."
"Yes, Ma."
"Good boy. What are you doing tonight?"
"Studying, then going to bed."
"Okay, darling. Goodnight Marco."
"Goodnight Ma."
Marco placed the phone back into it's receiver and watched as Dylan came inside, bringing the blanket with him, "It's late. I should be going." He walked him out to the front where Dylan placed the blanket away. He was heading for his car and looked back at Marco. A smirk appeared on the blond's face and he leaped up the front steps, wrapped an arm around the shorter boy's shoulders, and gave him a peck on the lips, "See you in school." Dylan left and Marco went inside, head spinning.
He closed the door and went to the back. Marco stepped into the backyard and saw something in the grass by his feet. A note. He picked it up. It read: Make a wish.
Marco looked up to the sparkling stars and smiled, closing his eyes, and made his wish under his breath, pressing the piece of paper to his chest.
