Title: Something New
Rating: PG-13 for themes and language
Characters: Marco, Spinner, Paige, Dylan, Ellie, Sean, Carlos, Jay and his gang, and some others
Pairings: Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.
Disclaimer: Not a thing belongs to me. How I wish, though.
Author's Note: In this chapter, there is harsh language and forgive me for that. You know how people are, though. Also I will be bringing in Marco's brother Carlos as well as his friend Tim. And something big happens between Sean and Ellie. Enjoy!
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"So did you guys kiss?" were the first words out of Paige's mouth as soon as soon as Dylan strolled in through the front door, a big smile on his face. She was on the living room couch watching a movie, as well as cuddling up next to Spinner. Rolling his eyes at Paige and smirking at Spinner's disgusted look, he proceeded to take off his jacket silently.
"Maybe we did, maybe we didn't," he taunted her, collapsing on the couch next to Spinner, much to the other's dismay.
"Dylan!" Paige cried out, shoving her boyfriend out of the way a little so she could reach over and smack him playfully.
"We saw you at the park, Spinner," Dylan said with a small grin. Raising her eyebrows, Paige looked at Spinner.
"Yeah," he said uncomfortably, staring at the television with fake interest.
"What, were you too busy to say hello?"
"Something like that," Spinner replied, trying hard to keep the revolted expression off of his face.
"You didn't tell me you saw them." Paige accused Spin, crossing her arms over her chest. "Were they making out or something?" He looked at her, eyes widening slightly and wrinkling his nose distastefully. "Oh get over it."
"No," he said simply, not looking at Dylan.
"Oh, come on Spinner," Dylan interrupted, smirking. "Go on, tell her." Paige looked at her older brother questioningly; the same expression Spinner was now wearing. "Tell her how you saw us making out against the tree." Paige's eyes got huge at this information, waiting eagerly for him to continue. "Tell her how you begged to join us, and then we had a wonderful threesome on the bench."
Crying out disgustedly, Spinner jumped up from the couch. Paige joined in on laughing really hard along with Dylan. "You kids have fun now," Dylan, still laughing, said. He patted Spinner's leg, grinned, and left up towards his room.
-----
When Marco got home, his parents were in the living room, watching television. "Hi honey," his mother said warmly, kissing his cheek.
"Hi Mama," he replied, flashing her a smile.
"Did you have a good time with Ellie?"
He always felt guilty when he lied to his parents, but until he was ready to come out he didn't exactly have any other choices. "Yes, Mama."
"Good. Go on and start your homework. I love you," she said, kissing him again.
"Love you too." He traipsed up the steps, two at a time, heading towards his room. He had a permanent smile on his face, which he didn't think anything could rid it. That was, until his older brother yelled for him as he passed his room.
"Hey Marco," Carlos said, beckoning him over with two fingers. He was on his bed, listening to the radio, and drumming his fingers to the beat on the table. Hesitating slightly, Marco entered his room. Carlos' bedroom was cluttered with sports trophies and pennants, mainly hockey and soccer. His older brother was the physical pride of the family, while Marco was more of the artistic type.
"What?" Marco said, somewhat irritated. His brother hardly ever called him in for just a civil conversation.
"Where'd you go tonight?" he said bluntly, turning the volume knob of his radio down. Marco faltered.
"Uh . . . out, with some friends . . . Look, I've got a lot of homework that I really need to get started on."
"Tim called and told me that you and Michalchuk were taking a nice little stroll through the park," Carlos said suspiciously, straightening out on his bed. Marco's stomach clenched up tightly, and found it was difficult to speak.
"Uh . . . uh, yeah. See, we were talking about . . ." He thought quickly. "Hockey."
Carlos stared hard at him, trying to get the other to back down or see if he was telling the truth. "Michalchuk's a homo," he spoke finally, twirling a pencil in his hands.
"Y-yeah? So what?"
"So if you hang out with him," Carlos explained, rolling over on his stomach, "people will think you're a homo too. And my reputation's at stake too." Marco would have rolled his eyes, if any of his body parts were functioning at the moment. "Besides, what if he like, checks you out?" Just the thought alone made Carlos shudder.
"Shut up, Carlos. Dylan's cool. Besides, he's an awesome hockey player and -" Carlos cut him off before he could go on.
"Yeah, but he's probably only on the team so he can see sweaty, naked guys in the locker room," he laughed, a grossed-out look attached to his face.
Marco glared at him slightly; his stomach lurching at the thought of his brother finding out he was gay.
"Well, anyway, I don't want you hanging out with him." Marco couldn't believe his ears. Carlos was trying to stop him from seeing Dylan?
"What?" he said, disbelievingly.
"Seriously. People will think you're a fag too."
"I don't care what people think," he said, and stopped in his tracks. I don't care what people think. That was a complete lie, and he knew it. If he didn't care, wouldn't he have come out to his family by now? He did care. But that wasn't going to stop him from hanging out with Dylan.
"Whatever, Marco. But I'm not stepping up for you if you get a beat down - and not for your shoes this time." Swallowing hard, Marco turned and quickly left the room. For his shoes. His brother still thought he got bashed for his shoes. Shaking his head, he numbly got out his books and tried to start his homework. The words on the pages were incredibly hard to read. Everything was a big blur to him.
Standing, he pushed his books away and turned out his light. He'd have to finish his homework in the morning. Turning over in bed, he closed his eyes and gave away to sleep.
-----
Ellie closed her eyes as the blood oozed down her wrist, seeping over the previous scars and concealing them under the crimson liquid. The pain didn't bother her too much anymore - in fact, she hardly noticed it at all. With a shuddering sigh, she opened her eyes again and turned the faucet off. Gingerly she cleaned the knife until it was blood-free, and put it in the dishwater. Then she washed the blood off of her arm as well, and pulled the red and black striped cotton back over the wounds.
She was supposed to meet Sean at the music store in a few minutes, and she knew she'd be late again. But that day had gone horribly already - her math homework was lost, and there was a pop quiz in History that she wasn't at all ready for.
Poking her head into her mom's room, Ellie opened her mouth to say something, but it wouldn't matter. Snoring loudly, her mother was sprawled over her bed. The atmosphere hung low with the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Sighing, she closed the door and left the house.
When she finally arrived at the music store, Sean was inside, browsing through CDs. Seeing him through the untainted windows, she headed in. He looked up at her and grinned, putting the music aside.
"Hey," he said when she got in. She said it back, and then Sean discreetly jerked a thumb towards the cashier, whose eyes were pointed directly at him. Every move he made, the raven-like eyes followed. Sean picked up a CD. The eyes followed. He turned so his back was towards the cashier. The cashier took a step to the left, and once again his eyes were on the CD. Laughing, Sean put the CD back on the rack, and the cashier relaxed. "I must look like some sort of criminal," he joked.
But Ellie was narrowing her eyes at the man. "That's completely not right," she remarked, forehead wrinkled.
"Don't worry about it. I'm used to it," he said, and then dramatically swept his eyes over his attire. "I wonder what it could be."
Ellie laughed, forgetting about the situation. "Ready to start looking?" He agreed, and the two proceeded on to have a good time while picking out the kind of music that they both liked. After they had purchased their items and the cashier bed them a bitter yet relieved goodbye, they decided to take a walk. It was starting to get dark and chilly.
Ellie shivered involuntarily from the chill outside, and immediately Sean took off his gray hoodie and handed it to her.
"Are you crazy?" she said in disbelief, not taking it from him. "You'll freeze to death." All Sean was wearing under that hoodie was a t-shirt and a wife-beater.
"I'll be fine," he insisted, pushing it over towards her. Reluctantly she took the sweatshirt and pulled it over her head, feeling warmer already.
They walked a little ways in silence, and the air around them got tense when their hands brushed each other's. Finally, they stopped outside a coffee shop. Almost hesitantly, Sean looked her in the eye and told Ellie, "I'm really glad we hung out tonight. I mean . . . I really like you, Ellie. A lot." He may have wanted to say something else, but couldn't because his lips were soon pressed against Ellie's. The kiss didn't last too long, but long enough for Sean to realize the feelings weren't unrequited.
When they broke apart, Ellie smiled at him.
"Wanna get some coffee or something?" Sean asked breathlessly, and Ellie happily agreed.
-----
[Journal entry 3]
Marco del Rossi
I realize that life isn't perfect. Life doesn't even pretend to be perfect. If someone says to you that their life is perfect, they're lying. I had a talk with my brother Carlos today. He asked me about Dylan, and I told him plainly that I like to hang out with him. What I didn't tell him was that I was attracted to him, and that I was actually going on a date (or something) with him.
I don't even want to know how Carlos would react. And I feel guilty, because not telling my family that their son is gay is just as bad as lying to them. I don't want Carlos to know, though. I'm honestly afraid. I wish I was as brave as Dylan.
What's the huge difference between straight and gay anyway? I mean, guys don't get offended if girls check them out - why should they get offended if guys do? If a guy was straight, I would never hit on him or anything like that. I can respect that they don't appreciate that. But why do they hate me for being gay? There are so many questions I have, and so many answers that I want. And need. I told Dylan this, and he just said there aren't answers for everything. That I've got to answer them myself as life goes on.
I've decided to come out to my parents at least. They deserve to know. And if they're disappointed, well . . . let's just not think about that. I don't see my mama have a huge problem with it, except for the fact that no grandchildren will come from me any time soon. But what about my dad? Would he be as disgusted as some of the guys at school? I know Carlos would. Just the way he reacted when he heard I was talking to Dylan.
I'm definitely going to come out soon though. I'll talk to Dylan about it, and we'll see how it goes. Until next time.
[/Journal]
Marco straightened his shirt once more, making sure all of the ruffles were out of it. He ran his hands through his hair as he continued to stare at the mirror. Dylan was going to pick him up in less than four minutes to go to the movies, and he was as nervous as heck. Exiting the bathroom, he went downstairs.
As soon as he entered the living room, a car from outside honked. He looked at his mother and said quickly, "I'm going to the movies, Mama. I'll be back later."
His mother looked up at her and said, in her natural motherly way, "Who are you going with?"
"A friend from school," he sighed, wanting to leave.
"Who is it? What's his name? How old is he? Or is it a her?" she questioned, blocking him from the doorway.
Marco sighed again, and answered truthfully, "It's a he. His name is Dylan Michalchuk, and he's a Grade 12."
"And he's driving?" she continued, not moving.
"Yes."
"I'd like to meet him first," his mother concluded finally, nodding.
"Mom!" he whined, but he knew it was all to no avail. Slowly and dreadfully, he opened the door and motioned Dylan, who was parked in the driveway, inside with his index finger. Looking confused, Dylan stepped out of the car and headed towards Marco.
"My mom wants to meet you," he mumbled miserably, and Dylan slowly nodded.
"Hello," his mother said when the two of them came back in. She held out her hand to Dylan, and politely he shook it.
"And your name is?" she asked.
"Dylan Michalchuk, ma'am," he replied formally, yet smoothly. Just then, Carlos and his friend Tim came tearing down the steps. Marco's stomach did a somersault as they stopped abruptly in the living room, halfway gaping at Dylan. For the first time, Dylan looked nervous.
"What's he doing here?" Carlos asked rudely.
"He and Marco are going to a movie," his mother said, giving him a strict look, which clearly was a warning sign for him to watch his tone.
"Marco can't go," Carlos interjected, looking at Tim almost fearfully because of his reputation. Tim was looking at Dylan, a disgusted expression on his face. Dylan was staring at the ground, almost like a deer trapped in headlights.
"Why not?" his mother asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because . . . because he's playing soccer, with us. You promised, Marco. Remember that?" he quickly improvised, then turned to his friend for help. "Remember that, Tim?"
"Yeah, I do remember," he said slowly, still shooting dirty looks toward Dylan.
"I did not!" Marco finally spoke.
"Carlos, leave your brother alone. He's going to a movie. You boys have fun now," his mother said, nodding and leaving the living room. All four boys looked relieved that she was gone, but no one was sure what to say.
"Ready to go Marco?" Dylan finally said, hesitatingly. Marco was glad for the icebreaker, but then Carlos interrupted before he could give his consent.
"We already told you, he's playing soccer," he said coldly. Dylan didn't know what to respond to that.
"Yeah, so you can go on home fag-boy," Tim added with a grin. Him and Carlos traded high fives, laughing.
"Shut up!" Marco said loudly, glaring at the two. Dylan still didn't know what to do. Normally he'd beat the crap out of anyone who said that, but he was in Marco's house . . . and it was Marco's brother.
"Sticking up for the homo? How cute," Tim cooed, still laughing. "Is he your boyfriend?" Instead of laughing along this time too though, Carlos elbowed him hard in the side.
"Dude, shut up. My little brother's not a queer," Carlos said. Embarrassedly, Marco looked at Dylan and then the front door, which Tim and Carlos were standing in front of.
"Move, guys. We're going to be late for the movie," Marco said, trying to step through. But Carlos held out his arms and shoved him backwards a bit.
"Dude, do you really want to sit next to a faggot in the movie? Halfway through he'll have you bent over a seat, if you know what I mean," Carlos laughed, and Tim joined in. Dylan turned his head away, feeling miserable, and Marco felt the exact same way for him.
"Shut up! It's not funny," Marco said loudly, but nonetheless the two continued laughing.
"Actually, it's really funny."
"Look, Marco, I'll just - I'll go home," Dylan said softly, not wanting to cause any more trouble.
"No," Marco said quickly, "let's just go out the back door." Quickly, they left the other way, but not before Tim threw in a loud "Faggot!"
"I . . . I am so sorry about that," Marco said once they got in the car, his voice shaking tremendously. "I mean, seriously. My brother is such a jerk, and I didn't know they were going to be home . . . I'm really sorry," he rambled, looking like he was about to break into tears.
"It's okay," Dylan assured him, starting up the engine. "Really. I mean, I'm used to it."
Looking uncomfortable, Marco stared out the window. "I'm going to be the butt of all that soon," he said quietly.
Not exactly sure how to comfort him, Dylan only said, "You'll get through it. And they'll realize that it's wrong. And besides, you've got me on your side." Marco took that as offensive. What he thought Dylan was trying to do was take a dig at him for not telling his brother or sticking up more for Dylan.
He looked down, and Dylan suddenly realized. "Oh, I didn't mean that. I know, it's hard coming out. And you'be got plenty of time."
There was a silence in the car, and then very slowly, Marco said, "Dylan? I think I'm ready to come out to my parents."
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I really appreciate any and all reviews I receive, and trust me, it's not hard. Just press that little button over there. I don't care if you tell me how absolutely dreadful it is, how much you love it, or how you think it's just "okay". But please, review.
[I got lazy and just copied last week's Author's Note. :D]
Rating: PG-13 for themes and language
Characters: Marco, Spinner, Paige, Dylan, Ellie, Sean, Carlos, Jay and his gang, and some others
Pairings: Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.
Disclaimer: Not a thing belongs to me. How I wish, though.
Author's Note: In this chapter, there is harsh language and forgive me for that. You know how people are, though. Also I will be bringing in Marco's brother Carlos as well as his friend Tim. And something big happens between Sean and Ellie. Enjoy!
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"So did you guys kiss?" were the first words out of Paige's mouth as soon as soon as Dylan strolled in through the front door, a big smile on his face. She was on the living room couch watching a movie, as well as cuddling up next to Spinner. Rolling his eyes at Paige and smirking at Spinner's disgusted look, he proceeded to take off his jacket silently.
"Maybe we did, maybe we didn't," he taunted her, collapsing on the couch next to Spinner, much to the other's dismay.
"Dylan!" Paige cried out, shoving her boyfriend out of the way a little so she could reach over and smack him playfully.
"We saw you at the park, Spinner," Dylan said with a small grin. Raising her eyebrows, Paige looked at Spinner.
"Yeah," he said uncomfortably, staring at the television with fake interest.
"What, were you too busy to say hello?"
"Something like that," Spinner replied, trying hard to keep the revolted expression off of his face.
"You didn't tell me you saw them." Paige accused Spin, crossing her arms over her chest. "Were they making out or something?" He looked at her, eyes widening slightly and wrinkling his nose distastefully. "Oh get over it."
"No," he said simply, not looking at Dylan.
"Oh, come on Spinner," Dylan interrupted, smirking. "Go on, tell her." Paige looked at her older brother questioningly; the same expression Spinner was now wearing. "Tell her how you saw us making out against the tree." Paige's eyes got huge at this information, waiting eagerly for him to continue. "Tell her how you begged to join us, and then we had a wonderful threesome on the bench."
Crying out disgustedly, Spinner jumped up from the couch. Paige joined in on laughing really hard along with Dylan. "You kids have fun now," Dylan, still laughing, said. He patted Spinner's leg, grinned, and left up towards his room.
-----
When Marco got home, his parents were in the living room, watching television. "Hi honey," his mother said warmly, kissing his cheek.
"Hi Mama," he replied, flashing her a smile.
"Did you have a good time with Ellie?"
He always felt guilty when he lied to his parents, but until he was ready to come out he didn't exactly have any other choices. "Yes, Mama."
"Good. Go on and start your homework. I love you," she said, kissing him again.
"Love you too." He traipsed up the steps, two at a time, heading towards his room. He had a permanent smile on his face, which he didn't think anything could rid it. That was, until his older brother yelled for him as he passed his room.
"Hey Marco," Carlos said, beckoning him over with two fingers. He was on his bed, listening to the radio, and drumming his fingers to the beat on the table. Hesitating slightly, Marco entered his room. Carlos' bedroom was cluttered with sports trophies and pennants, mainly hockey and soccer. His older brother was the physical pride of the family, while Marco was more of the artistic type.
"What?" Marco said, somewhat irritated. His brother hardly ever called him in for just a civil conversation.
"Where'd you go tonight?" he said bluntly, turning the volume knob of his radio down. Marco faltered.
"Uh . . . out, with some friends . . . Look, I've got a lot of homework that I really need to get started on."
"Tim called and told me that you and Michalchuk were taking a nice little stroll through the park," Carlos said suspiciously, straightening out on his bed. Marco's stomach clenched up tightly, and found it was difficult to speak.
"Uh . . . uh, yeah. See, we were talking about . . ." He thought quickly. "Hockey."
Carlos stared hard at him, trying to get the other to back down or see if he was telling the truth. "Michalchuk's a homo," he spoke finally, twirling a pencil in his hands.
"Y-yeah? So what?"
"So if you hang out with him," Carlos explained, rolling over on his stomach, "people will think you're a homo too. And my reputation's at stake too." Marco would have rolled his eyes, if any of his body parts were functioning at the moment. "Besides, what if he like, checks you out?" Just the thought alone made Carlos shudder.
"Shut up, Carlos. Dylan's cool. Besides, he's an awesome hockey player and -" Carlos cut him off before he could go on.
"Yeah, but he's probably only on the team so he can see sweaty, naked guys in the locker room," he laughed, a grossed-out look attached to his face.
Marco glared at him slightly; his stomach lurching at the thought of his brother finding out he was gay.
"Well, anyway, I don't want you hanging out with him." Marco couldn't believe his ears. Carlos was trying to stop him from seeing Dylan?
"What?" he said, disbelievingly.
"Seriously. People will think you're a fag too."
"I don't care what people think," he said, and stopped in his tracks. I don't care what people think. That was a complete lie, and he knew it. If he didn't care, wouldn't he have come out to his family by now? He did care. But that wasn't going to stop him from hanging out with Dylan.
"Whatever, Marco. But I'm not stepping up for you if you get a beat down - and not for your shoes this time." Swallowing hard, Marco turned and quickly left the room. For his shoes. His brother still thought he got bashed for his shoes. Shaking his head, he numbly got out his books and tried to start his homework. The words on the pages were incredibly hard to read. Everything was a big blur to him.
Standing, he pushed his books away and turned out his light. He'd have to finish his homework in the morning. Turning over in bed, he closed his eyes and gave away to sleep.
-----
Ellie closed her eyes as the blood oozed down her wrist, seeping over the previous scars and concealing them under the crimson liquid. The pain didn't bother her too much anymore - in fact, she hardly noticed it at all. With a shuddering sigh, she opened her eyes again and turned the faucet off. Gingerly she cleaned the knife until it was blood-free, and put it in the dishwater. Then she washed the blood off of her arm as well, and pulled the red and black striped cotton back over the wounds.
She was supposed to meet Sean at the music store in a few minutes, and she knew she'd be late again. But that day had gone horribly already - her math homework was lost, and there was a pop quiz in History that she wasn't at all ready for.
Poking her head into her mom's room, Ellie opened her mouth to say something, but it wouldn't matter. Snoring loudly, her mother was sprawled over her bed. The atmosphere hung low with the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Sighing, she closed the door and left the house.
When she finally arrived at the music store, Sean was inside, browsing through CDs. Seeing him through the untainted windows, she headed in. He looked up at her and grinned, putting the music aside.
"Hey," he said when she got in. She said it back, and then Sean discreetly jerked a thumb towards the cashier, whose eyes were pointed directly at him. Every move he made, the raven-like eyes followed. Sean picked up a CD. The eyes followed. He turned so his back was towards the cashier. The cashier took a step to the left, and once again his eyes were on the CD. Laughing, Sean put the CD back on the rack, and the cashier relaxed. "I must look like some sort of criminal," he joked.
But Ellie was narrowing her eyes at the man. "That's completely not right," she remarked, forehead wrinkled.
"Don't worry about it. I'm used to it," he said, and then dramatically swept his eyes over his attire. "I wonder what it could be."
Ellie laughed, forgetting about the situation. "Ready to start looking?" He agreed, and the two proceeded on to have a good time while picking out the kind of music that they both liked. After they had purchased their items and the cashier bed them a bitter yet relieved goodbye, they decided to take a walk. It was starting to get dark and chilly.
Ellie shivered involuntarily from the chill outside, and immediately Sean took off his gray hoodie and handed it to her.
"Are you crazy?" she said in disbelief, not taking it from him. "You'll freeze to death." All Sean was wearing under that hoodie was a t-shirt and a wife-beater.
"I'll be fine," he insisted, pushing it over towards her. Reluctantly she took the sweatshirt and pulled it over her head, feeling warmer already.
They walked a little ways in silence, and the air around them got tense when their hands brushed each other's. Finally, they stopped outside a coffee shop. Almost hesitantly, Sean looked her in the eye and told Ellie, "I'm really glad we hung out tonight. I mean . . . I really like you, Ellie. A lot." He may have wanted to say something else, but couldn't because his lips were soon pressed against Ellie's. The kiss didn't last too long, but long enough for Sean to realize the feelings weren't unrequited.
When they broke apart, Ellie smiled at him.
"Wanna get some coffee or something?" Sean asked breathlessly, and Ellie happily agreed.
-----
[Journal entry 3]
Marco del Rossi
I realize that life isn't perfect. Life doesn't even pretend to be perfect. If someone says to you that their life is perfect, they're lying. I had a talk with my brother Carlos today. He asked me about Dylan, and I told him plainly that I like to hang out with him. What I didn't tell him was that I was attracted to him, and that I was actually going on a date (or something) with him.
I don't even want to know how Carlos would react. And I feel guilty, because not telling my family that their son is gay is just as bad as lying to them. I don't want Carlos to know, though. I'm honestly afraid. I wish I was as brave as Dylan.
What's the huge difference between straight and gay anyway? I mean, guys don't get offended if girls check them out - why should they get offended if guys do? If a guy was straight, I would never hit on him or anything like that. I can respect that they don't appreciate that. But why do they hate me for being gay? There are so many questions I have, and so many answers that I want. And need. I told Dylan this, and he just said there aren't answers for everything. That I've got to answer them myself as life goes on.
I've decided to come out to my parents at least. They deserve to know. And if they're disappointed, well . . . let's just not think about that. I don't see my mama have a huge problem with it, except for the fact that no grandchildren will come from me any time soon. But what about my dad? Would he be as disgusted as some of the guys at school? I know Carlos would. Just the way he reacted when he heard I was talking to Dylan.
I'm definitely going to come out soon though. I'll talk to Dylan about it, and we'll see how it goes. Until next time.
[/Journal]
Marco straightened his shirt once more, making sure all of the ruffles were out of it. He ran his hands through his hair as he continued to stare at the mirror. Dylan was going to pick him up in less than four minutes to go to the movies, and he was as nervous as heck. Exiting the bathroom, he went downstairs.
As soon as he entered the living room, a car from outside honked. He looked at his mother and said quickly, "I'm going to the movies, Mama. I'll be back later."
His mother looked up at her and said, in her natural motherly way, "Who are you going with?"
"A friend from school," he sighed, wanting to leave.
"Who is it? What's his name? How old is he? Or is it a her?" she questioned, blocking him from the doorway.
Marco sighed again, and answered truthfully, "It's a he. His name is Dylan Michalchuk, and he's a Grade 12."
"And he's driving?" she continued, not moving.
"Yes."
"I'd like to meet him first," his mother concluded finally, nodding.
"Mom!" he whined, but he knew it was all to no avail. Slowly and dreadfully, he opened the door and motioned Dylan, who was parked in the driveway, inside with his index finger. Looking confused, Dylan stepped out of the car and headed towards Marco.
"My mom wants to meet you," he mumbled miserably, and Dylan slowly nodded.
"Hello," his mother said when the two of them came back in. She held out her hand to Dylan, and politely he shook it.
"And your name is?" she asked.
"Dylan Michalchuk, ma'am," he replied formally, yet smoothly. Just then, Carlos and his friend Tim came tearing down the steps. Marco's stomach did a somersault as they stopped abruptly in the living room, halfway gaping at Dylan. For the first time, Dylan looked nervous.
"What's he doing here?" Carlos asked rudely.
"He and Marco are going to a movie," his mother said, giving him a strict look, which clearly was a warning sign for him to watch his tone.
"Marco can't go," Carlos interjected, looking at Tim almost fearfully because of his reputation. Tim was looking at Dylan, a disgusted expression on his face. Dylan was staring at the ground, almost like a deer trapped in headlights.
"Why not?" his mother asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because . . . because he's playing soccer, with us. You promised, Marco. Remember that?" he quickly improvised, then turned to his friend for help. "Remember that, Tim?"
"Yeah, I do remember," he said slowly, still shooting dirty looks toward Dylan.
"I did not!" Marco finally spoke.
"Carlos, leave your brother alone. He's going to a movie. You boys have fun now," his mother said, nodding and leaving the living room. All four boys looked relieved that she was gone, but no one was sure what to say.
"Ready to go Marco?" Dylan finally said, hesitatingly. Marco was glad for the icebreaker, but then Carlos interrupted before he could give his consent.
"We already told you, he's playing soccer," he said coldly. Dylan didn't know what to respond to that.
"Yeah, so you can go on home fag-boy," Tim added with a grin. Him and Carlos traded high fives, laughing.
"Shut up!" Marco said loudly, glaring at the two. Dylan still didn't know what to do. Normally he'd beat the crap out of anyone who said that, but he was in Marco's house . . . and it was Marco's brother.
"Sticking up for the homo? How cute," Tim cooed, still laughing. "Is he your boyfriend?" Instead of laughing along this time too though, Carlos elbowed him hard in the side.
"Dude, shut up. My little brother's not a queer," Carlos said. Embarrassedly, Marco looked at Dylan and then the front door, which Tim and Carlos were standing in front of.
"Move, guys. We're going to be late for the movie," Marco said, trying to step through. But Carlos held out his arms and shoved him backwards a bit.
"Dude, do you really want to sit next to a faggot in the movie? Halfway through he'll have you bent over a seat, if you know what I mean," Carlos laughed, and Tim joined in. Dylan turned his head away, feeling miserable, and Marco felt the exact same way for him.
"Shut up! It's not funny," Marco said loudly, but nonetheless the two continued laughing.
"Actually, it's really funny."
"Look, Marco, I'll just - I'll go home," Dylan said softly, not wanting to cause any more trouble.
"No," Marco said quickly, "let's just go out the back door." Quickly, they left the other way, but not before Tim threw in a loud "Faggot!"
"I . . . I am so sorry about that," Marco said once they got in the car, his voice shaking tremendously. "I mean, seriously. My brother is such a jerk, and I didn't know they were going to be home . . . I'm really sorry," he rambled, looking like he was about to break into tears.
"It's okay," Dylan assured him, starting up the engine. "Really. I mean, I'm used to it."
Looking uncomfortable, Marco stared out the window. "I'm going to be the butt of all that soon," he said quietly.
Not exactly sure how to comfort him, Dylan only said, "You'll get through it. And they'll realize that it's wrong. And besides, you've got me on your side." Marco took that as offensive. What he thought Dylan was trying to do was take a dig at him for not telling his brother or sticking up more for Dylan.
He looked down, and Dylan suddenly realized. "Oh, I didn't mean that. I know, it's hard coming out. And you'be got plenty of time."
There was a silence in the car, and then very slowly, Marco said, "Dylan? I think I'm ready to come out to my parents."
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I really appreciate any and all reviews I receive, and trust me, it's not hard. Just press that little button over there. I don't care if you tell me how absolutely dreadful it is, how much you love it, or how you think it's just "okay". But please, review.
[I got lazy and just copied last week's Author's Note. :D]
