Ch.3. I'm having entirely too much fun with this I think. Ok, anyway, Marco's pov. Next chapter: the talk! Finally an interesting chapter!

-----------------------------------------------

Thank you eclipsed, Shaydra and smoothNcreamy and TruRavenclaw (all of you again! hugs), Yelak, girl-with-the-halo, Sixela555, amber1134, Junsui46319, and meravigliata. You make me so deliriously happy. Rock on for you guys.

If a homophobe is actually still reading at this point, don't complain to me. sticks out tongue

-----------------------------------------------

Marco's POV

It was very warm. And very sunny. Renegade rays of sunshine strayed through tree branches, illuminating leaves just touched by fall color, completing their mission by turning to golden puddles of light on the sidewalk. There was no wind and no noise. It was a time most people relish. Just to soak up the serenity and beauty of it all.

So it must have been a surprise to any onlooker how a teenage boy could be walking through said magical scenery and be completely oblivious to it.

Marco had been totally elated after he had left from his conversation with Dylan. He had actually asked for help, and from Dylan himself no less. He would finally have a confidant and even someone who just knew what it was like.

Yes, that part he was over the moon about. He was, however, not so hyped up over his performance. What had that been about? He was never able to go five minutes with Dylan without doing something humiliating. How was he supposed to survive their little talking sessions if he couldn't string two words together? Or if his face exploded from blushing too much? Or maybe his doofy smile would break his face?!?! Ok, stupid idea, stupid idea. Whose fault was this again? Oh that's right. Paige. Note to self, Marco thought, give Paige wrong notes next times she asks for them.

Alright, just keep in mind that it won't happen. Yeah, every time your brain goes on meltdown just remember that nothing could happen anyway. So there's no point in getting in a tizzy over it. Marco sighed. Somehow that didn't feel as good and comforting as it should have. He looked up and noticed he was on his front porch, arm outstretched, keys in hand. When had this happened? Shrugging it off he let himself into the house. He was done being surprised today.

He went to the kitchen, very much his mother's domain, and gave his mother a peck on the cheek. "Hey ma." She was standing at the stove stirring something in a big pot, as she was often found doing. He walked up behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder and stared as she made the food.

"Hello honey. Don't you have homework or something? Quit pestering me." She said with a teasing grin.

Marco smiled at her and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and headed upstairs to his room. He threw his bag by the door, set his snack on the computer desk, and fell on the bed face down. He sighed. That's better. Marco didn't know how long he stayed that way, but eventually his lungs thought it would be beneficial to breathe, plus, more importantly, he had homework to do.

He got up, turned on the desk light and began working. It was routine. He had probably missed a homework dedline twice in his entire life. He was known as a good kid. The kind, that in the movies, get beat up for their lunch money and are usually portrayed with ugly black glasses taped together. Thinking about it, he had also forced himself to be one of the best soccer players he could be. Learned to play three instruments, with the help of his mom. And he'd probably got grounded for something he had actually done a total of only five times.

Marco was quite disgusted he concluded. Like a thirty year old in a fifteen year old's body. Of course, he had to give himself some slack. He knew why he tried so hard to be perfect. To make up for what he was. His parents, so stuck in the ways of old, would never understand. He'd like to think they would still love him, but the thought of respect seemed too much like a pipe dream. How was he supposed to tell his parents something like that anyway? Hey ma! Yeah school was great. Aced the math test, new science project was assigned, and oh yeah, I'm gay.

Hopeless, he decided, was the vocabulary word for the day. Oh wait, and mortification too. He still couldn't believe how he stuttered! Atleast he was done with his homework. Yay for having a smart brain even if you were a coward.

-----------------------------

Dinner was a strained affair. Marco, usually very lively and talkative at dinner, was deathly silent. He felt guilty about even talking to Dylan. He felt like his parents could just 'see' the truth written all over him. And he also felt ashamed. He shouldn't feel guilty. Especially since nothing was going on between them. But Marco did just the same.

It was always like that around his parents. He was a sick, unnatural freak and if he even breathed wrong his parents would figure it out. At school, Marco was happy, and allowed to be himself unabashedly. There he had support and loyalty and love surrounding him on all sides. The second he stepped into his own home he was in a pressure tank. Slowly his mind would become weighed down by his parents' very presence, to where he felt like exploding. Or imploding. Atleast that way he wouldn't have had to deal with it anymore.

His only sanctuary was his room, where everything around him made him feel better. The walls were a nice shade of blue and his bed had to be the most comfortable one in the universe. And he had his computer in the corner opposite the bed, where he kept his thoughts securely locked behind a password. Marco plopped down on his bed and stared at his ceiling. He was just dozing off when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Tell me what happened."

Marco grinned stupidly. "Yes, it's nice to speak to you to Ellie. Nothing happened."

He could just hear the eye rolling from her end. "Yeah right. I won't pry too much or anything. I'm just curious."

Won't pry much? Marco snorted. Girls didn't know how not to. "Mostly I just apologized...and stuttered like an idiot. It was so embarrassing."

"Um," Marco could tell she wasn't satisfied. "And...?"

"And...he volunteered himself as someone for me to talk to. He said we'd talk tomorrow at The Dot. I don't think I can do it."

"And why not? This is a perfect opportunity."

He was getting annoyed. "Perfect opportunity for what?"

"Hello! He likes you Marco. And it's going to be you and him, together." Silence. "At The Dot." Silence. "Together."

Marco was shaking his head as she spoke. "Ellie, no he doesn't. I don't know where you guys are getting it, but he doesn't like me. I mean, he's older than me and totally out of my league."

"Listen very carefully. You....are....deluded....and stupid. You're so lucky I don't want to argue with you. Believe what you want. Just don't get to upset when everyone tells you different." A very quiet muffled noise could be heard in the background. "Oh hey, Marco, Ashley's here. I gotta go. Good luck coming to your senses. I'll see you tomorrow."

Marco sighed. "Ok, have fun. Bye." He hung up and checked what time it was. Only eight. What to do now? Think? Yeah, thinking was good, if not dangerous. He went ahead and got dressed in his pajama pants and a grey shirt. He turned off his light and flicked on the lamp by his bed. Laying there in the semi-darkness he decided it was safe to actually think about stuff. Marco didn't think any gay vibes could get through the door and down to his parents. Hopefully anyway.

He didn't know why he liked Dylan. It really didn't have to do with the perfect blonde hair, warm blue eyes, or even that crooked smile he was always wearing. It didn't even have to do with his teasing or the independence or the strength or the reassuring. It was something else entirely. Something that didn't even have a name. It was completely unique and it couldn't belong to anyone but Dylan.

Marco had had a crush on him since the first time he met him that day at the beach. He really couldn't help it. How was he supposed to react to the guy smiling at him? He had helped him to learn how to play volleyball. Had teased him good naturedly throughout the day. And then, after Ellie blew his cover by saying she wasn't his 'girlfriend' anymore, he had run off to be by himself. Dylan had followed. Had asked if he was alright and then, even when Marco didn't say a word to him, he stayed right there. Reassuring and calming him down with his presence. He quite simply, was there for Marco. He cared for him and tried to help him. That made him different than alot of people.

Marco was grinning quite widely by this point. An extremely annoying, if not totally predictable after effect of thinking of Dylan. Ah, screw the time. He turned off the lamp by his head, rolled over and fell asleep.

Minutes later he was asleep with a small smile on his face.

Not that he'd admit to it or anything.

------------------------------------------------

Ch.3 is done! Um, yay? Not that good, yes. Chapters 2 and 3 were mostly just fillers. Totally boring, but deffinently necessary. Four will be good though! Review and thou shalt get cookies!