Chapter six, which is amazingly better than dumb chapter five! Yay.
Thanks for the reviews guys. As always. ::dumps bags of skittles on everybody's head::
dylanlover- I know what you mean. I didn't even get it while I was writing it. That was just an evil chapter. It was horribly confusing.
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The last school bell had rung fifteen minutes earlier, and every member of the school, save the staff, were outside on their way to freedom. Except one.
A small, Italian boy was sitting in front of a row of lockers with his knees pulled up against his chest and his face hidden underneath his hair. He wore the stature of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. And for the moment, perhaps he did.
It was Friday. The day to come clean to his parents. And in all honesty, Marco was seriously wondering, by this point in the day, just why he had decided to go along with this last week. He was scared out of his mind.
Marco, so lost in his own misery, never even noticed when a tall blonde walked up to him. Nor did he notice his presense as he sat beside him. He only came back to reality when he felt a strong arm go around his shoulders. He tensed up.
Gently, Dylan tucked his other hand beneath Marco's chin and lifted it up so he could look into the younger boy's eyes. He'd never seen such anxiety in someone's eyes before. But then again, ever since Marco came along, he had been subjected to a great many firsts.
"It's going to be fine." Dylan whispered. "They love you. They will always love you. This won't change that. It may cause a few problems for awhile...but it will be worth it. It always is." He stared into those emotional brown eyes for a few seconds longer than necessary, then grinned as convincingly as he could and ruffled Marco's hair. Standing up, he held out a hand for the smaller boy. After pulling him up he squeezed his shoulder one last time before they both started walking out to his car.
On the drive to Marco's house, Dylan put the radio on something fast and loud so as to take Marco's mind off of what he was about to do. It wasn't working. Hm, okay. Try harder Dylan. With a silly smile he started singing along, very badly, to whatever that was playing.
Marco, who had been staring off out the window, almost jumped out of his seat when the screeching began. He turned to his friend in shock and quickly dawning horror. Oh, somone put him out of his misery, thought Marco as he stared. After a few more seconds of horrified silence, he burst out laughing. It was all too much. The situation, the nervousness, the dying cat scream. Dylan soon followed and eventually had to pull the car over just in case the tears in his eyes and the doubling over caused him to wreck.
"Dylan, thank you. I was getting quite pathetic wasn't I?" Marco finally managed to wheeze out. Tired from laughing so hard, he fell back hard into his seat and turned his head so he could speak to Dylan. "Could you even imagine me trying to do this by myself?"
"No. But that's why I'm here."
"Yeah. Thanks."
"No, problem. Glad to know I'm good for something."
With that, Dylan started the car back up and the pair stayed relatively silent during the rest of the journey. Except for the occasional giggle.
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"Marco, honey. You're home earlier than usual!" said Marco's mother as she greeted him in the hallway. Then her eyes caught on to Dylan behind him. "And who is this young man?"
Dylan hurriedly stepped forward and offered his hand. "Dylan Mychalchuk."
Marco was beyond panicked by this point. Just breathe. You can do this. They'll love you. They'll love you. They will still love you!
"Hey ma. Can I maybe talk to you and pa? In the living room?" He was shaking all over. The world was collapsing in around him. The floors were shaking. His mind was-
Dylan put a hand on Marco's shoulder. "Don't freak out. Just come on. You can do this." Marco nodded in answer to the supportive blue eyes.
Marco walked into the living room, and was faced with his mother and father on the sofa with identical concerned expressions. He sat in one of the two arm chairs across from them, and was only vaguely aware of Dylan doing the same.
"Is there something wrong, Marco?" asked Mrs. del Rossi in her voice, thick with accent.
He hesitated, then it all just came bursting out. "I know I'm not what you've ever wanted me to be. I've never been athletic enough, or smart enough, or strong enough. I've always been this big disappointment to you guys. And I hate myself for that."
Mr. del Rossi jumped in. "No! No son. We love you. We have never once thought that. What has gotten into you? Do you doubt us this much?"
Marco raised terrified eyes to his father. "Pa, I'm gay."
Complete and utter silence reined in that few seconds, though it felt like hours to Marco and Dylan.
Silence can be a deadly thing, Marco learned. It can tear you apart more effectively than words. It can mess with your mind until you want to scream. It mocks, and laughs, and hurts, and thrives in your misery.
Silence, Marco decided, was the loudest the thing he'd ever heard.
That was until what happened next. Before him, his father's face, frozen in shock, slowly contorted and tears began flowing down his cheeks. It was like a punch in the stomach. So much so, that Marco reflexively wrapped his arms around his middle. Here was a man, that Marco had looked up to his entire life. He thought he was the strongest, most honorable person there was. This man...was crying before him. He had never once, witnessed his father cry. Not once. But he was witnessing it now. And it was like his heart was being cut out piece by piece.
His father's eyes rapidly turned dark and stormy. Before he could start yelling his mother jumped forward and put a hand over his mouth. "Honey, come upstairs with me." She gave him a hard shove in the direction of the stairs and turned to her son.
And smiled at him.
"I'll be back down in a minute. Then we will talk." She returned her attention back to her husband and quickly ushered him upstairs.
Dylan turned to the other boy. He was sitting there, staring at the recently vacated stairs with tears falling down his face. Dylan got up from his spot, put an arm around Marco's shoulders, helped him stand up, and moved them to the couch. He removed his arm and placed it on Marco's knee. There they sat, waiting for Marco's mother to come back downstairs in companionable silence.
Finally, about ten minutes later, footsteps were heard approaching. Dylan looked expectantly at the staircase and saw Mrs. del Rossi appear, but Marco steadfastedly kept his eyes glued to the floor. Mrs. del Rossi walked in front of Marco and fell to her knees before him, taking both of his hands in hers. She lowered her face below Marco's until he finally looked into her eyes. Only then did she speak.
"Marco, I am so very proud of you." She kissed his forehead. "I think I even love you more. You were very brave." She threw a quick glance towards the staircase and abrubtly focused them back to Marco. "Your father still loves you too. He's just a bit shocked. Men can be a bit...well, stupid about these things, you know?" She smiled. "Just give him time. He will come 'round."
Marco, undone, threw his arms around his mother and wept in silent relief. He never in his wildest dreams thought his mother would be so supportive. He pulled back wiping his face and beaming like an idiot. And for once, not really caring. He had every reason to smile.
Except for your father, whispered a dark voice in the back of his mind. It was pushed soundly away as Marco turned to his best friend. Dylan was grinning at him in that special way he always did. That could make any problem seem farther away.
"So, you are Dylan, correct?" Oh, thought Marco, this could be bad.
"Yes ma'am."
"Marco, are you and Dylan....?" she questioned timidly.
All of Marco's walls shot up immediately and he answered quickly. A little too quickly. "No! No...we're just friends. He's here for support mostly. And to make sure I went through with it of course." The words fell like a lead weight on Dylan's ears.
"Yes, well, it's nice to meet you Dylan. And thank you...for being there for my son."
"Anytime Mrs. del Rossi."
Marco's mother got up from where she had been kneeling on the floor and placed a quick peck on Dylan's cheek before she headed back upstairs to her husband, who was hiding from reality.
"She's right. Thank you Dylan. For just being here."
Dylan shrugged it off and stood up, stretching as he went. "Anytime, Marco del Rossi. Anytime." He walked to the door, grabbing his keys out of his jacket pocket, and turned once he had reached it.
"If things get too tense with your dad....well, you know where I live."
Marco nodded, feeling a great bit lighter. Now that the drama was over, the crush came back full force. He didn't even chance trying to string a sentence together.
Dylan nodded back with a warm smile and let himself out.
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AN- I recently came out to my aunt and we talked about all these different scenarios of how coming out could happen. We mentioned it all. From the good to the bad. And, only one I really remembered. She said, one bad thing that could happen is if your father starts to cry before your very eyes. I don't know why, but that one struck me, and it struck me hard. It's been haunting me since then. I decided if I was going to put anything, it was going to be that. Also, I like to see Marco happy like everyone else, so I made his mother understanding and supportive. Of course, after the episode yesterday (which sucked) it seemed like she would have been that way anyway.
R&R
