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Chapter Nine

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Running.

He was running under the moon, crying out for the world to save him. They were closing in on him. He was running into the alley between two buildings, a long light spread ahead of him. They were shouting.

Something laid on the ground near a dumpster. An eagle spread body. He reached it. Dylan Michalchuk, lifeless, staring up blankly at the sky. Blood drizzling out of his mouth. He was dead. Someone killed him.

"Gonna get ya!"

He turned to his Papa, who held a hockey stick in his hands. He swung it at his head. There was crashing of glass. A ringing in his head, growing louder...

Marco opened his dark brown eyes to his phone beside his bed. It rang noisily. He groaned, getting up and answering it.

"Hello?"

"Marco, hey." It was Dylan... oh no. His dream came back to haunt him and Marco suppressed it.

"Hey..."

"Did I wake you?"

"Yah, a little."

"I just wanted to know, um, if you still wanted to have that date today-"

"Yea! Of course, I still want to."

"Great! I mean... you sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay, I'll pick you up at four then."

"Okay, see ya!"

Marco heaved a sigh, hanging up, and pushing his bad memories away. For at least today. He wondered what they were going to do and awaited expectantly for four to roll around. Marco didn't know what to put on for their date so he choose a casual shirt and jeans. He saw him mother dressing up and asked curiously, "Where are you going?"

"To the police station, to talk to your father and the rest of the police." He was sorry for asking when her face turned rigid. His mom answered the front door when it was knocked on and called him over. Marco saw Dylan in swim trunks and a thin white tee shirt. The younger boy cleared his throat.

"Did I miss something?"

"Oh yeah!" Dylan laughed. "I forget to tell you that we're going to the beach. Grab your gear."

Marco rolled his eyes goodhearted and got dressed again, coming downstairs in his trunks with sunscreen and a towel.

Mrs. Del Rossi turned Dylan, smiling.

"Take care of my son."

"Will do Mrs. Del Rossi."

She kissed Marco's cheek and watched them climb into Dylan's convertible.

The blonde took Marco's hand and said with an ecstatic smile, "This is going to be fun!" The younger boy grinned back at him and they were off, driving straight to the beach. Dylan parked in an area where it wasn't all that crowded and they got a semi-quiet area to themselves. As they were walking in the sand and setting up chairs, the older boy threw a volleyball at the other. Marco looked at him puzzled as he caught it and Dylan smirked.

"Remember this?" He spread out his muscular arms and said, "Pretend I'm the net, concentrate on getting it over me." The dark haired boy grinned and hit the ball. It sailed right over him. The blonde shouted, "Great! You did good!" He went over and touched Marco's shoulder. Deja vu crept into his memory.

"Yeah, well, I may not know much about sports but it doesn't mean I can't do them."

"I never said you couldn't."

"I know...just...whatever." Marco shrugged, turning away and the Dylan smiled furtively. He picked him up and lifted Marco onto his shoulder, spinning around.

"Hey! Wh-What are you doing? Dylan, man, stop!"

The blonde chuckled and set him down. Marco smiled and tackled him to the ground. Soon, they were rolling around in the sand, laughing their heads off. The younger boy looked up to the other boy, his back on the sandy ground. Marci could see that his black eye was almost healed. He glanced into those boundless cerulean eyes and murmured short-winded, "Dylan...?" If he could just-

"Could you get off? You're kinda crushing me."

The older boy laughed, sitting up, "Sorry." Marco brushed the sand out of his hair and gave him a quick smile. Dylan asked after a silent moment, "Want to swim?"

"Sure!"

They went swimming in the ocean. Marco saw him strip off his tee and stared at the toned, tanned upper body of the other boy. Dylan raced into the water and swam effortlessly.

He called to him, "Come on Marco!"

A bit self conscious, the younger boy took off his own shirt and heard the blond whistle. Marco dunked him and they roughhoused in the water for a while until it got too cold and they walked out of the water soaked. Dyan pointed out, "Hey, your bruises have healed." Marco looked down and wrapped arms around himself awkwardly. He was so skinny compared to the other.

"Yeah."

The older boy stepped in front of him and gazed at his head. "So has your cut..." He gently ran his thumb over the tiny scar on his forehead and Marco didn't mind it at all. The gesture was comforting. Warm. Dylan pulled away. "Hungry?"

Marco replied, "Starved."

They chowed down on barbecue and laid out on towels to dry off in the sun until the sun began to set in the horizon. The sky had turned a bright pink color. He breathed in the fresh air, and in the corner of his eye, he saw Dylan giving him an purposeful look. The darker boy asked quietly, "Are you checking me out...?," he added silently, 'Not that I would mind.'

The older boy tilted his head. "Maybe..." He gave him his famous drop dead gorgeous smile. "Or maybe not. . .do you think I was?"

"I was kind of hoping you were."

He realized what he had said and blushed. The blonde grinned.

"Really?"

Marco stammered, smirking, "Maybe. . .m-maybe not." Dylan said not anything but looked back at the sunset, laying his hand over Marco's inattentively. The younger boy noticed this indication and gave him an intent look. Something was stirring in him. "I never got to thank you."

Dylan looked at him."For what?"

"For. . . .saving me at the park, uh, that one time."

The older boy's face grew softhearted. "You don't have to-" Marco stopped him.

"No, you stopped them before something worse could happen." The blond saw sincere gratitude in the Italian boy's eyes and nodded.

"Ok then."

Marco spoke again, "And I'm sorry for yesterday."

"We only could do what we could."

They looked into each other's eyes and leaned in for a kiss. Marco turned away at the last second. Dylan asked anxious, "What is it?"

"I just... I was thinking about this dream I had last night."

The older boy turned his head to face him with his eyes stating; Talk.

Marco's dark eyes were big with discomfort.

"In the dream... I was running from the same people. I went into an alley and saw you on the ground dead. I didn't check, I just knew. Then my Pa comes out of nowhere with this hockey stick and hits me." He shook his head. "I don't know what these dreams mean."

Dylan offered, "Maybe your dreams are just thoughts and feelings you had that day. They're just dreams. They can't hurt you."

Marco looked away, the same wounded look in his eyes.

"But people can."

"Only if you let them. You have to fight back, Marco."

"I. . . .can't."

The older boy insisted, "Yes, you can. If you try. Don't let people get to you, I mean, I experienced the things you have and it took time but I got through it. You can too." Marco glowered.

"You're different! You're brave, you're strong, you aren't afraid of anything!"

"Except for killer whales."

Dylan figured that it was a mistake to joke at that moment when Marco gave him a warning look.

"I have a point. I'm only that way because I have to be. If you want help, Marco... I'll always be here. You can come to me."

The darker boy nodded and a coy smile flickered on his face.

"I'm sorry... I forgot if we were doing something..."

"I'll remind you."

The kiss started out simple enough but soon it was passionate, filled with admiration and fervent longing. Marco didn't care that they were making out in a public beach where anyone could see them. He just didn't care. He was in the arms of his boyfriend and it was like true paradise. Marco could momentarily feel Dylan's hands linger around his back. Dreamy pleasure shone in his eyes. It was time to go home. On the way back, a comprehension struck Marco. They had their first kiss, a real kiss, and he couldn't stop smiling upon thinking about it.

The older boy dropped him off, giving him a short kiss before leaving.

As Dylan drove home, he felt slightly light-headed and deliriously drunken with exhilaration. It was official. He had fallen for the Italian tenth grader known as Marco Del Rossi. The blond stepped into his cozily lit home and saw that Paige, Spinner, and Hazel were watching a movie in the other room. As he was placing his towel away, his sister appeared, bombarding him with the usual questions.

"...What happened on your date with Marco?"

Spinner called out from the other room, "Honeybee! You're missing the best part!"

She answered, "Hold on!" Hazel got interested and watched them instead of the movie. "Well? Are you going to talk or am I going to have to get Mom out here to bug it out of you?"

He looked at her aggravated, "Paige. . ." She crossed her arms, blocking his exit to the stairs. Dylan forewarned, "Don't make me do it." Paige didn't move.

"HEY!" He picked her up roughly and set her behind him, getting onto the steps. She grabbed his arm. "Come on!" Paige pouted and Dylan wanted to rip his hair out... or hers.

"Paige, I mean it! It was... just, a normal date. Okay?"

She smirked, "Uh uh, I saw that silly smile on your face. . Oh my god, my big brother's in LOVE!"

Paige shrieked with enthusiasm, wrapping him into a bear hug. Hazel began screeching along with her as his little sister's best friend yanked Spinner out along with her. Paige hugged her boyfriend. Spinner didn't look too happy that his girlfriend's brother was now officially dating one of his best friends who was a guy. That or it was being in the same room with two screaming girls.

"Oh, wait until I tell Marco-!"

Dylan raised a finger threateningly, "No, you won't say anything to him. I'm being serious, Paige." She waved a hand.

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Dyll."

He didn't like that smile on her face.