Title: Something New
Rating: PG-13 for themes and language
Characters: In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz
Pairings: Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Degrassi. If I did, this all woulda taken place right after Pride premiered. =D
Author's Note: Sorry about not updating, fellas! I got grounded from my beloved computer for a week, so I couldn't write anymore. But I did brainstorm, and I'm pretty excited about this chapter. It'll be sad, I think (I hope). And… yeah, just read on! Thank you all for reviewing, SO much! Also, rocky91, I've reread the chapter many times and I can't seem to find the grammar mistakes. Maybe you could point a few out, so I don't make them again? Thank you! Also, WHOA… I got tons of reviews this chapter! Thank you all so much! Also also, because I've lacked in updating, I'm giving you a super-long chapter.
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When Marco woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the smell. Yes, it did in fact still smell like Dylan, but there was also the scent of bacon and pancake batter stirred in as well. The next thing he noticed was that Dylan was no longer in the bed; that he was alone.
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he glanced around the room. Dylan was nowhere in sight. Mumbling to himself, he got out of the warm bed regretfully, and strolled out of the room. He heard voices coming from downstairs, so he followed them. They led him straight to the kitchen, where Dylan was at the stove, and Paige and Spinner were seated around the table.
"Morning Sleeping Beauty," Dylan teased Marco when he spotted him, grinning his trademark smile. Marco had to smile too.
"What time is it?" asked Marco innocently, grinning sheepishly at Spinner and Paige and feeling foolish in Dylan's too-big clothing.
"Almost noon," Paige replied, and then added with a sly smile, "Dylan's bed must have been pretty comfy, huh?" Spinner raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, shooting her a slightly nasty look.
"Noon?!" Marco repeated, his jaw dropping slightly. He never slept 'til noon; in fact, he was usually the first one awake at his house.
"Yep. I woke up this morning at like eight, and you were completely knocked out," Dylan said. Blushing, Marco looked at the floor. "No problem, though. You looked too cute for me to wake you up." Spinner looked away, ordering himself silently to not say anything. Marco's cheeks reddened even more. "Besides, I'm making breakfast."
"I didn't know you cooked," Marco said, eying the delicious-looking food hungrily. His stomach gave an involuntary rumble, and Dylan laughed at the sound. Though embarrassed, he too joined in laughing.
"I'm a fantastic cook," Dylan bragged; flipping the pancake over his shoulder and catching it on a plate behind his back, just to show off.
"And very modest too, obviously." Paige rolled her eyes, snatching the plate from Dylan's hands. They all laughed.
"Sleep well?" Spinner asked Marco with a smirk, as he sat down at the table.
"Yeah, Spin, Dyl's bed was great," he shot back. "How was Paige's? Oh wait, sorry… you wouldn't know." Dylan started cracking up at his comeback, and even Paige turned away to hide her giggles.
"Funny," said Spinner dully. He, however, became noticeably silent as he picked at his pancakes.
"This is great, Dyl," Paige said, through a mouthful of bacon.
"Yeah, it's awesome," Marco agreed. Even Spinner nodded his head.
"Why, thank you," he replied, sitting next to Marco. "Tips are appreciated." They all ate in silence for a while, until finally Dylan looked up at the other three. "Any of you guys have plans today?"
"I'm taking Paige out to lunch," Spinner said smugly, putting his arm around his girlfriend. She smiled lovingly at him.
"Ah, great. What about you Marco?"
"Nothing so far, I guess." He shrugged. Though he really didn't want to go home, he wasn't about to admit that. And besides, what if his parents had told Carlos? He was terrified of what might happen.
Nodding, Dylan thoughtfully chewing his pancakes. When he swallowed, he looked at Marco seriously and said, "I have hockey practice today." Truth be told, he was worried about Marco too. He knew how vicious Carlos was. Somewhat sadly, Marco looked at his plate. "You could always hang out, you know."
Glancing up at Dylan, Marco contemplated the idea. He had a strong notion that Dylan was taking pity on him. "Nah," he said, "I'll just hang out at home today."
"All right," Dylan nodded, feeling bad that he had to return to his home. He knew Marco didn't want to go home, but there wasn't really anything he could do.
"I should probably get home," Marco announced, with an uneasy smile.
"I'll drive you," Dylan offered, standing up.
"Great." He started to head towards the door, when he noticed Dylan, Spinner, and Paige were all cracking up. "What?" he asked sheepishly, blushing slightly. What were they laughing about?
"Planning on wearing those home?" Dylan asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. Confused, Marco looked down at his attire - and saw he was still wearing Dylan's clothes.
"Oops," he said shyly, "guess I'll go change."
"I don't know," Dylan joked. "You look pretty good in them." He winked, and then disappeared up the steps, motioning for him to follow.
Marco obeyed, but not after bringing his dish to the sink and washing it off. It was a particularly annoying habit his mother forced into him, but at least it was polite. "See you guys lat-" he began to Spinner and Paige, but the couple was kissing at the table and he left them alone.
When Marco finally raced upstairs, he found the door to Dylan's room was closed. What should he do? Knock? Barge right it? After a little debate in his head, he finally knocked on the door.
"Come on in," Dylan's voice floated from the room. Marco opened the door, and low and behold, Dylan was standing in front of his mirror, in only a pair of boxers. Though he didn't want to, Marco adverted his eyes. Staring at the ground, his cheeks reddened. Dylan had obviously wanted him in the room, but he thought it was rude to stare. No matter how bad he wanted to.
He noticed Dylan was laughing, so he forcefully brought his eyes up. Dylan hadn't put any more clothes on. Marco didn't know where to look. "Should I…?" he asked, motioning towards the door.
"No, you can stay." He pulled a white t-shirt on, pausing only to swipe the golden curls out of his eyes. "Can you help me with some of my gear?" he continued, even though after many years of dressing for hockey, he was completely capable of getting ready alone.
"Sure," Marco muttered, still a little bit uncomfortable. While he helped him pull some of his things on, he tried to change the subject by asking something he was dying to know. "Um… Dylan? Have you ever been, uh, attacked because… you know? Like, a personal attack?"
"Well, yeah. A couple of times." He finished getting his clothes on, and turned to face Marco. When he saw how serious the younger boy was, he sat down. With a distant look in his eyes, he began talking and his voice was surprisingly flat. "In the hallways, people kept constantly tripping me. They'd grab my books and throw 'em to the ground. Shove me into lockers. Of course, I always shoved back." The two exchanged grins. "Guys would wait for me to come out of the locker room after hockey practices. My friends, though…" He paused doubtfully. "My real friends, anyway, would stick around and walk with me so I didn't get ganged up on."
He closed his eyes with a shuddery breath, and then opened them again. "In class, we always had to pass our homework papers forward. I sat in the back, so the guys in front of me would rip them up and I'd get a zero on the assignment. People always talked about me, and they weren't very discrete either. They called my house and left mean messages a lot, messed up my locker." He looked at Marco, whose eyes were wide with fear and unknowing. Sure, he'd gotten bashed… but it seemed like Dylan got it ten times more.
"The worst time, though," Dylan went on, wringing his hands together thoughtfully, "was after a really important game. The coach wanted to talk to me, and it took forever… my friends were all gone by the time he stopped talking. Right when I was walking out of the locker room, someone hit me in the back of the head. I started to fall, but then the guy caught me so I figured it was an accident." Marco nodded solemnly. "I started to apologize, you know, then the guy just grinned really big and two more of them - they were from the other team - came out and circled around me. I wasn't sure what was going on."
He paused slightly, the memory flooding before his eyes. It still haunted him. "I mean, they seemed pretty cool at first. The biggest one asked me to play a game of one-on-one with him, so I said what the heck. I didn't put any pads or anything on; figured I was safe. I played goalie first. Everything went fine. I blocked a few of his shots; he made a few. Then we switched positions. I was in the middle of this awesome move, when the two other guys came and tackled me. They were pretty big guys. It hurt, a lot. I hit my head on the ice, but I was still conscious. Then next thing I know, one of them is sitting on my legs."
He sighed at this point, not wanting to continue. But Marco's eyes pleaded with him, so he did. "He looked at me and smirked, then said, 'My favorite game has always been smear the queer.' I eventually shoved him off me and tried to run out, but one of the guys tackled me from behind. And then they just kicked the crap out of me. They beat me with their hockey sticks, kicked me with their skates… calling me these harsh names. It was horrible."
"What happened?" Marco asked in a breathless whisper.
"Eventually they got bored. I stopped fighting back after I realized I couldn't win. I laid there on the ice for a while, and finally the janitor walked in and called the ambulance." He hesitated for a second, then looked at Marco and forced a smile. "People have become a lot more open now, though."
"Not my brother," Marco mumbled, and Dylan had no reply to that. After a while, both boys were dressed and ready to go. They said goodbye to Paige and Spinner, and then climbed in Dylan's car and began the drive to Marco's house.
"Do you want me to go in with you?" Dylan asked, looking at Marco out of the corner of his eyes.
Of course I do, Marco thought. It's only going to be my huge brother slamming my head into the wall. "Nah," he said nonetheless, shrugging. It was impossible to look at Dylan; he was afraid to see an expression on Dylan's face that he wouldn't be able to handle.
"Are you sure?" The car slowed down, and Dylan glanced at the younger boy. "I know you're scared of Carlos." Marco blushed slightly. "I would be too. But you can't just -"
"I'll be fine," he interrupted, before Dylan could say something that would completely embarrass him. Respectably shutting his mouth, the rest of the ride was in silence until they pulled into Marco's driveway. "Well, thanks," he said, not looking at the older boy.
"I'll see you at school," Dylan replied, watching Marco concernedly with a frown plastered onto his face. "I have my cell phone if you need anything…"
"I'll be fine," Marco repeated, trying to assure himself more than Dylan. "Bye." Bravely, he got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to his house. His legs felt rubbery; it felt like an hour before he'd successfully moved both legs.
Just his luck; he opened the front door to his house and who was there, sitting directly in the path to his room? Carlos, of course. His hopes of escaping to his bedroom without being caught were dashed. Carlos cast a look at Marco when he entered the house, but Marco was unable to read it. Was it hatred? Did he know? Was he planning on ripping him to pieces?
Carlos opened his mouth, and Marco flinched. The words couldn't have come out any slower. "What did you do?" Marco blinked. What did he do?
Before he could ask what Carlos meant, Carlos was speaking again. "I came home yesterday after soccer, and Papa was extremely pissed. He started to tell me what you did, but Mama told him that if he said one more word, he was going to regret it and so Dad changed his mind. Then Ma told me that you would tell me if you wanted to." Marco stared, unsure of what to say and extremely grateful to his mother. When Marco didn't say anything, Carlos pressed, "What'd you do?"
Marco decided to take this opportunity and run with it. Smirking, he began, and into his story he started using hand motions to describe his "adventure". "Well, it was me, Spinner, and Craig. Dad just came home, and threw his keys onto the table. Well, I grabbed the keys right off the table, and we went outside. His car was sitting there in the driveway, just begging for us to give it a test ride. I climbed in the front seat, and the other guys got in. Before I know it, the keys are in and the car is starting up… I guess Papa heard the noise, because he came tearing out of the house." Pausing, he glanced at his older brother and was delighted to see his eyes were as round as nickels. "I put the car in reverse, and zoomed out of the driveway, and then took off down the street! I must've been going eighty, ninety miles per hour. It was amazing! So, finally, we're at the end of a street a couple of blocks over, when a police car pulls up right next to me! Like an expert, I turned at the light and drove back to our house. The cops didn't expect a thing! We got out of the car, and Papa was seething. Mama calmed him down eventually, though, and I'm not even grounded."
Carlos stared at his younger brother, silently, for quite a while. "Bull," he said, almost breathless. Arching an eyebrow, Marco seemed to fend off his brother's doubt. Then after a little while, he burst into laughter.
"I totally had you going!" he laughed, and his brother's eyes narrowed.
"Did not."
"You so believed me!" Still chuckling, he headed up to his room.
"No, really," Carlos said from behind him. "What did you do?"
"Nothing big. I…" he hesitated. What would satisfy Carlos? "I failed a test in algebra."
He didn't have to look at Carlos to tell how disappointed he was with the answer. He was obviously hoping for some large scandal. But rather than continuing, he shrugged slightly. "Where'd you run off to last night?"
"I spent the night at a friend's house."
"Whose?" Hesitating, Marco though about telling the truth, but decided against it.
"Spinner's."
"Oh." Marco turned to leave once more, but Carlos began talking again. "Listen… you still hang out with that Michalchuk guy?"
Once again, Marco debated the idea of telling him yes, of course, that they were now closer than ever. But truth be told, he was afraid his brother was going to draw up a conclusion about him. "Nah, not really."
Carlos's face dawned a look of relief. "Good," he said, and then grinned meanly. "So, uh, Marco, would you wanna tag a locker with me and a couple of guys before school tomorrow?"
Though Marco already knew he wouldn't, he asked, "Whose locker?" just to act interested.
"Some kid," Carlos shrugged. "Been giving us… a couple problems."
"Oh, well, I've got… stuff to do." He shrugged like he was frustrated that he couldn't join in on their vandalizing act, and then quickly added, "Sorry."
"No problem. Look, you won't tell anyone, right?"
"Course not."
"Promise?"
Marco uncertainly nodded, a little baffled. His brother was staring at him intensely. "Yeah, I promise."
"Good."
And Marco continued up the stairs, relieved that Carlos still didn't know his secret, but also confused about Carlos's.
"Welcome home, son," said a cold voice before Marco could reach his room. He looked at his father fearfully, wondering where his mom was.
"H-hi Dad," he said in a shaky voice. "Lots of homework… better get started…"
"Did you have fun with your friend?"
"Y-yeah, it was okay."
"Whom were you staying with again?" his dad asked, in an almost sneering tone. Be brave, Marco, he thought to himself, but he couldn't stop shaking.
"Dylan," he tried to say, but his voice came out as a soft whisper.
"Right. Your… boyfriend?" Marco whipped his head around, and thankfully, Carlos wasn't within earshot.
"No, Papa. He's not." His voice was more clear now. "But I won't stop hanging out with him."
"Do whatever you want. But do not even think about bringing him into my home."
He didn't know what to say, other than, "Okay." He watched his dad turn and walk down the hallway in the opposite direction, as if it was someone else that he had addressed rather than his own son, his own flesh and blood. Tears stung his eyes, and a rage flowed through his veins. And then he spoke, and he was sure of what he was saying.
"You know what, Dad?" His father didn't turn around to face him; he merely glanced over his shoulder. "I'm your son. I'm always gonna be your son - and I'll always be your," he dropped his voice, "gay son. Whether or not you like it. Whether or not you like me. But you're going to have to deal with it, because… there's nothing you can do about it."
His father opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then closed it after a second and continued walking. Finally reaching in his room, he grabbed his homework, like he said he would. The first thing he pulled out was his journal, which needed updating. Hurriedly, he turned to an empty page and chewed on the cap of his ink pen, thinking.
[Journal Entry 6]
Marco del Rossi
Carlos still doesn't know. I'm so relieved by this, because I honestly don't know what I'll do if he finds out. My dad's still acting really mean about it; I just hope he'll eventually get over it. My mama was the one who told my papa not to tell Carlos. About me, I mean. I'm really glad I have such an understanding mother.
Last night was a lot of fun. Well, I was a little bit worried when Tom the Pizza Boy showed up. He and Dylan seemed pretty close… turns out they used to date a while back. But Dylan reassured me that he didn't like Tom anymore… in fact, he went as far as saying he liked ME! I won't go too far into details, but I'll just say we held hands. We also watched movies… and I was pretty embarrassed when I found out I drooled on his shoulder.
Fortunately, though, this meant he had to get a new shirt… and he wasn't very discrete about taking the old one off. And this morning, I went in his room and he was standing in just boxers. I'm sorry, but he is so cute.
Why I'm writing this in a journal that my teacher will read I do not know. Truth is, I kind of like writing in this journal now.
I'll stop now, I guess. Time's up!
[/Journal]
Standing, Marco left the journal on his desk and moved over to the computer. He casually signed onto his messenger, and glanced at the list. Paige and Spinner weren't on; they were at lunch. Dylan, of course, wasn't on; he was at hockey. Ellie, however, was online.
BaddaBoom: Hey, El!
NOLabels: Hey Marco. Where were you last night? I tried to call.
BaddaBoom: Dylan's… :-D
NOLabels: Wow!! Did you… do anything?
BaddaBoom: Nah, nothing like that… except hold hands.
NOLabels: Awesome! You guys are so perfect for each other.
BaddaBoom: Heh. Don't get too excited yet. We're hanging this week, though.
NOLabels: Can't, sorry. Plans with Sean.
BaddaBoom: Ahh. Girl's in love!
NOLabels: :-P Actually, I gotta go soon. Supposed to be meeting him.
At this point, Marco's mother began calling for him from down the hall. He smirked at the timing.
BaddaBoom: I have to go, too. Bye!
NOLabels: Bye. Have fun!
They both signed off; Ellie stood from her computer to get ready with Sean, while Marco dashed down the hallway to his mother's needs. Unfortunately, his journal was left in the middle of the table, which he soon forgot completely about.
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"Mom?" Ellie called, walking into the living room. To her great surprise, her mom was on the couch, sitting normally, and reading. She wasn't sure of what came as a greater shock… the fact that there were no empty liquor bottles, or that her mom was reading.
"What is it, Ellie?" her mom asked, smiling warmly at her daughter. Ellie was completely confused.
"Uh… what's going on?"
"What do you mean?" her mother asked innocently, blinking like she had no clue. "You know, your father will be home tonight."
She finally understood - her mom always stopped getting so drunk when her father was around. Her face lit up at the terrific news. "That's great! Um, can I meet Sean for lunch?"
"Of course you can! Do you need some extra money?"
"Sure, Mom." She smiled and accepted the bills that her mother handed her, and then dashed out of the house before she could change her mind. As she was walking, she glanced at her arm attire. The black-and-pink striped arm stocking was a bit loose; she'd have to remind herself to adjust it continuously, or else the slowly fading scars would be apparent.
She walked the rest of the way, with a slight bounce in her step. She hadn't cut herself for a little while; life was pretty good, now that she had Sean. And now with her dad coming home, family problems would vaporize.
This time, Ellie beat Sean to the restaurant. She casually hung by the door, until he finally arrived. To her dismay, Jay and Towerz were also walking with him.
"Uh, Ellie," Sean said, introducing them even though they'd already met. "This is Jay and Towerz. Guys, this is Ellie. My girlfriend." She smiled at the term, and the other two guys scoffed.
"Are they…?" Ellie asked, but she didn't have to go much farther.
"Nah, they're leaving. Right guys?" When Sean only got two dirty looks, he added, "Right?" Sneering, they nodded and disappeared into a small store across the street.
Sean moved in to kiss her, and she gratefully accepted the action. Their kiss didn't last that long; they soon broke apart and entered the restaurant, both beaming.
"How's life?" Sean asked, after they had ordered their drinks.
Ellie smiled genuinely at him, and answered truthfully, "It's been… good. Really good. My dad's coming home tonight, so my mom is… well, not being her usual self. You know? It's great having her back like this."
"Cool."
"And how are you, Mr. Cameron?"
"I'm alive." He shrugged. "Tracker's had tons of girls over… he kicks me out when they're there, so I've been hanging over at Jay's lately."
"Oh," Ellie said, frowning slightly.
"It's all good though." He reached over and pulled both of her hands into his and grinned, once more. "Have a date for the dance coming up?"
"I have a feeling I do now," she said, but all of a sudden, Sean stopped smiling. Looking alarmed and feeling self-conscious, she said, "What's wrong? What's the matter?"
He didn't say anything, but let go of her hands. He then reached across the table, until his hands were grazing Ellie's arm. Looking down, she saw her skin was visible, as well as the scars. Her cheeks reddened and she tried to jerk away.
"Those are new scars," Sean said softly. "Those weren't there last week."
"I… I cut myself on glass," she lied lamely, her eyes prickling with tears.
Sean, however, brushed away the lie. "Ellie, have you been… cutting yourself?"
Unknowing what to say, she let a few of the tears stroll down her face. When Ellie didn't say anything, Sean learned forward and pulled down the arm stocking a bit. Tons of scars - some overlaying each other - aligned her pale skin. They were both speechless.
"Why would you do that to yourself?" he asked in a doubtful voice.
Silently crying, she pulled the cotton back up over her arm. "I have to go."
"Ellie, please. Don't."
"I have to. Bye, Sean." She got up in a hurry and left. Grumbling something, Sean threw some money down on the table and took off out the door after her.
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It turned out that all Marco's mother needed help with was carrying groceries inside. Grudgingly, he did as he was told. However, when they were finished, he approached his mom.
"Thanks, Mama," he said in a soft whisper, knowing she knew what he meant.
"Anything for you," she smiled back, and kissed his cheek.
The rest of the weekend went by sort of slowly; he talked to Ellie on the phone a little, and Carlos didn't say anything more of his tagging plans. Monday morning, however, when he woke up, he discovered Carlos had already left - along with the spray paint cans from the garage.
His mother asked if he knew where Carlos was, but Marco kept his promise and assured her he had just left early to meet up with some friends.
He ate breakfast, and his mom gave him a ride to school. When he got there, he decided to go up and talk to Dylan. He entered the school building, and when he reached the hallway Dylan's locker was in, there was a great mob of people surrounding something.
Curious, he shoved and grunted his way through the crowd, until with great horror he saw what had happened. Dylan wasn't in sight; however, his locker was the object of every student's attention. Spray painted in bright bold red letters, was the word: "Homo". He knew, without doubt, it was his brother's dirty work. He saw Carlos and Tim, doubled over in laughter and pointing at the locker victoriously.
Absolutely furious, he stormed over to them. "What the hell did you do?!" he shouted, and the whole hallway grew quiet.
"Relax," Carlos said, between laughs. "It wasn't us. We were with you this morning. Remember?" His eyes flashed dangerously, and Marco backed down a bit.
"Besides," Tim added loudly, "Carlos said you got smart and stopped hanging around the queer."
Dylan Michalchuk couldn't have picked a better time to appear in the hallway. He heard every word that Tim said, and looked sadly at Marco. That was, until his eyes adverted to his locker. Face growing bright red, he knew somehow it was probably Marco's brother and his friend. But when he saw Jay and his gang cracking up and ridiculing Dylan loudly, he wasn't positive.
"Just shut up!" Marco snapped at Tim, feeling like crying.
Dylan, of course, was used to this treatment, so he wasn't about to burst out in tears. What Tim said, however, hurt his feelings. Had Marco really said that? He wasn't exactly the shyest guy in the world, either, so he approached Carlos, Tim, and Marco. When he spoke, though, his words were directed to Marco. "Did he…?"
Almost sadly, Marco glanced at the locker and to Carlos, who was shooting discrete daggers at him with his eyes. "N-no," he said softly. "Carlos and Tim were at my house this morning. We came to school together." Dylan stared at him for a few seconds, but he was ready to believe anything Marco said. So, glaring, he shoved past Jay and headed for his locker.
Every whisper in the hall was about him; he heard almost everyone of them, too. Silent, Dylan started fiddling with the lock on his locker. He thought this was done. He thought it was over. Bravely, Marco came and stood next to Dylan.
"I'm really sorry about this, Dyl," he said truthfully. "I had no idea…" Marco's name was getting thrown into the student's conversations as well now.
"Yeah," Dylan said angrily, sighing as he shoved books into the locker aggressively. "You had no idea this could happen to the school fag, right?"
"That's not what I meant…"
"I know, Marco." The first bell rang, and the crowd of people began to thin out as they headed to their own lockers.
Still laughing, Tim and Carlos turned to leave as well, but not before coughing, "Homochuk!" loudly and falsely.
He closed the locker door, and stared at the word "homo". He hated that word, and every negative comment that came with it. Heatedly, he began swiping at the paint with his sleeve, but that did no good. The word was still there. "Guess I should go tell Raditch."
"I'll go with you," Marco offered, feeling it was the least he could do. The secret that his brother was the one who did it burned a hole in his heart, and he couldn't have been anymore pissed at Carlos if he tried.
"It was probably Jay and them. They've always been doing this kind of crap."
"Yeah," Marco said, kind of emptily. The second bell rang, and they were the only two in the hallway. "I don't want that to happen to me," he confessed, his thoughts on Carlos.
"I'll be honest with you Marco… it probably will. But you've got great friends, and they're there for you. And don't forget you've got me." He grinned at the younger boy.
"How could I forget that?" Marco said, grinning back. He did a quick search of the area, and no one was in site. "I like you, Dylan. I know you know I like you. But now… it's getting really hard to… to…"
"Control?"
Marco nodded at the word, feeling a little embarrassed.
"I know what you mean." He stared at Dylan, surprised that he had said that.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Marco? I like you, too." Without another word, Dylan leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Fireworks shot through Marco's mind excitedly; brilliant colors flashed before his eyes. He put a hand on Dylan's cheek and kissed him back. For fear of getting caught, after a little while, they pulled back, grinning widely at each other.
Marco couldn't believe what had just happened. Smiling, Dylan took his arm and they continued their walk to the office in silence.
He thought about telling his mother what Carlos had done, but he'd made a promise not to tell anyone. The promise finally made sense to him. He hated the word, and he hated Carlos, but he could yell later.
For now, everything was right.
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WHOO, I finally finished a chapter! With a kiss, and everything! Aren't you proud?
Well, then, review and tell me so! :-D
Thanks again to everyone who reads and reviews! Wouldn't be doing this without you. Anyway, tell me if you liked this monstrous chapter, hated it, loved it, I dunno, just tell me!
Rating: PG-13 for themes and language
Characters: In this chapter: Marco, Dylan, Marco's parents, Carlos, Paige, Ellie, Sean, Jay, Towerz
Pairings: Marco/Dylan, Spinner/Paige, Ellie/Sean, not sure of any others.
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Degrassi. If I did, this all woulda taken place right after Pride premiered. =D
Author's Note: Sorry about not updating, fellas! I got grounded from my beloved computer for a week, so I couldn't write anymore. But I did brainstorm, and I'm pretty excited about this chapter. It'll be sad, I think (I hope). And… yeah, just read on! Thank you all for reviewing, SO much! Also, rocky91, I've reread the chapter many times and I can't seem to find the grammar mistakes. Maybe you could point a few out, so I don't make them again? Thank you! Also, WHOA… I got tons of reviews this chapter! Thank you all so much! Also also, because I've lacked in updating, I'm giving you a super-long chapter.
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When Marco woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the smell. Yes, it did in fact still smell like Dylan, but there was also the scent of bacon and pancake batter stirred in as well. The next thing he noticed was that Dylan was no longer in the bed; that he was alone.
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he glanced around the room. Dylan was nowhere in sight. Mumbling to himself, he got out of the warm bed regretfully, and strolled out of the room. He heard voices coming from downstairs, so he followed them. They led him straight to the kitchen, where Dylan was at the stove, and Paige and Spinner were seated around the table.
"Morning Sleeping Beauty," Dylan teased Marco when he spotted him, grinning his trademark smile. Marco had to smile too.
"What time is it?" asked Marco innocently, grinning sheepishly at Spinner and Paige and feeling foolish in Dylan's too-big clothing.
"Almost noon," Paige replied, and then added with a sly smile, "Dylan's bed must have been pretty comfy, huh?" Spinner raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, shooting her a slightly nasty look.
"Noon?!" Marco repeated, his jaw dropping slightly. He never slept 'til noon; in fact, he was usually the first one awake at his house.
"Yep. I woke up this morning at like eight, and you were completely knocked out," Dylan said. Blushing, Marco looked at the floor. "No problem, though. You looked too cute for me to wake you up." Spinner looked away, ordering himself silently to not say anything. Marco's cheeks reddened even more. "Besides, I'm making breakfast."
"I didn't know you cooked," Marco said, eying the delicious-looking food hungrily. His stomach gave an involuntary rumble, and Dylan laughed at the sound. Though embarrassed, he too joined in laughing.
"I'm a fantastic cook," Dylan bragged; flipping the pancake over his shoulder and catching it on a plate behind his back, just to show off.
"And very modest too, obviously." Paige rolled her eyes, snatching the plate from Dylan's hands. They all laughed.
"Sleep well?" Spinner asked Marco with a smirk, as he sat down at the table.
"Yeah, Spin, Dyl's bed was great," he shot back. "How was Paige's? Oh wait, sorry… you wouldn't know." Dylan started cracking up at his comeback, and even Paige turned away to hide her giggles.
"Funny," said Spinner dully. He, however, became noticeably silent as he picked at his pancakes.
"This is great, Dyl," Paige said, through a mouthful of bacon.
"Yeah, it's awesome," Marco agreed. Even Spinner nodded his head.
"Why, thank you," he replied, sitting next to Marco. "Tips are appreciated." They all ate in silence for a while, until finally Dylan looked up at the other three. "Any of you guys have plans today?"
"I'm taking Paige out to lunch," Spinner said smugly, putting his arm around his girlfriend. She smiled lovingly at him.
"Ah, great. What about you Marco?"
"Nothing so far, I guess." He shrugged. Though he really didn't want to go home, he wasn't about to admit that. And besides, what if his parents had told Carlos? He was terrified of what might happen.
Nodding, Dylan thoughtfully chewing his pancakes. When he swallowed, he looked at Marco seriously and said, "I have hockey practice today." Truth be told, he was worried about Marco too. He knew how vicious Carlos was. Somewhat sadly, Marco looked at his plate. "You could always hang out, you know."
Glancing up at Dylan, Marco contemplated the idea. He had a strong notion that Dylan was taking pity on him. "Nah," he said, "I'll just hang out at home today."
"All right," Dylan nodded, feeling bad that he had to return to his home. He knew Marco didn't want to go home, but there wasn't really anything he could do.
"I should probably get home," Marco announced, with an uneasy smile.
"I'll drive you," Dylan offered, standing up.
"Great." He started to head towards the door, when he noticed Dylan, Spinner, and Paige were all cracking up. "What?" he asked sheepishly, blushing slightly. What were they laughing about?
"Planning on wearing those home?" Dylan asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. Confused, Marco looked down at his attire - and saw he was still wearing Dylan's clothes.
"Oops," he said shyly, "guess I'll go change."
"I don't know," Dylan joked. "You look pretty good in them." He winked, and then disappeared up the steps, motioning for him to follow.
Marco obeyed, but not after bringing his dish to the sink and washing it off. It was a particularly annoying habit his mother forced into him, but at least it was polite. "See you guys lat-" he began to Spinner and Paige, but the couple was kissing at the table and he left them alone.
When Marco finally raced upstairs, he found the door to Dylan's room was closed. What should he do? Knock? Barge right it? After a little debate in his head, he finally knocked on the door.
"Come on in," Dylan's voice floated from the room. Marco opened the door, and low and behold, Dylan was standing in front of his mirror, in only a pair of boxers. Though he didn't want to, Marco adverted his eyes. Staring at the ground, his cheeks reddened. Dylan had obviously wanted him in the room, but he thought it was rude to stare. No matter how bad he wanted to.
He noticed Dylan was laughing, so he forcefully brought his eyes up. Dylan hadn't put any more clothes on. Marco didn't know where to look. "Should I…?" he asked, motioning towards the door.
"No, you can stay." He pulled a white t-shirt on, pausing only to swipe the golden curls out of his eyes. "Can you help me with some of my gear?" he continued, even though after many years of dressing for hockey, he was completely capable of getting ready alone.
"Sure," Marco muttered, still a little bit uncomfortable. While he helped him pull some of his things on, he tried to change the subject by asking something he was dying to know. "Um… Dylan? Have you ever been, uh, attacked because… you know? Like, a personal attack?"
"Well, yeah. A couple of times." He finished getting his clothes on, and turned to face Marco. When he saw how serious the younger boy was, he sat down. With a distant look in his eyes, he began talking and his voice was surprisingly flat. "In the hallways, people kept constantly tripping me. They'd grab my books and throw 'em to the ground. Shove me into lockers. Of course, I always shoved back." The two exchanged grins. "Guys would wait for me to come out of the locker room after hockey practices. My friends, though…" He paused doubtfully. "My real friends, anyway, would stick around and walk with me so I didn't get ganged up on."
He closed his eyes with a shuddery breath, and then opened them again. "In class, we always had to pass our homework papers forward. I sat in the back, so the guys in front of me would rip them up and I'd get a zero on the assignment. People always talked about me, and they weren't very discrete either. They called my house and left mean messages a lot, messed up my locker." He looked at Marco, whose eyes were wide with fear and unknowing. Sure, he'd gotten bashed… but it seemed like Dylan got it ten times more.
"The worst time, though," Dylan went on, wringing his hands together thoughtfully, "was after a really important game. The coach wanted to talk to me, and it took forever… my friends were all gone by the time he stopped talking. Right when I was walking out of the locker room, someone hit me in the back of the head. I started to fall, but then the guy caught me so I figured it was an accident." Marco nodded solemnly. "I started to apologize, you know, then the guy just grinned really big and two more of them - they were from the other team - came out and circled around me. I wasn't sure what was going on."
He paused slightly, the memory flooding before his eyes. It still haunted him. "I mean, they seemed pretty cool at first. The biggest one asked me to play a game of one-on-one with him, so I said what the heck. I didn't put any pads or anything on; figured I was safe. I played goalie first. Everything went fine. I blocked a few of his shots; he made a few. Then we switched positions. I was in the middle of this awesome move, when the two other guys came and tackled me. They were pretty big guys. It hurt, a lot. I hit my head on the ice, but I was still conscious. Then next thing I know, one of them is sitting on my legs."
He sighed at this point, not wanting to continue. But Marco's eyes pleaded with him, so he did. "He looked at me and smirked, then said, 'My favorite game has always been smear the queer.' I eventually shoved him off me and tried to run out, but one of the guys tackled me from behind. And then they just kicked the crap out of me. They beat me with their hockey sticks, kicked me with their skates… calling me these harsh names. It was horrible."
"What happened?" Marco asked in a breathless whisper.
"Eventually they got bored. I stopped fighting back after I realized I couldn't win. I laid there on the ice for a while, and finally the janitor walked in and called the ambulance." He hesitated for a second, then looked at Marco and forced a smile. "People have become a lot more open now, though."
"Not my brother," Marco mumbled, and Dylan had no reply to that. After a while, both boys were dressed and ready to go. They said goodbye to Paige and Spinner, and then climbed in Dylan's car and began the drive to Marco's house.
"Do you want me to go in with you?" Dylan asked, looking at Marco out of the corner of his eyes.
Of course I do, Marco thought. It's only going to be my huge brother slamming my head into the wall. "Nah," he said nonetheless, shrugging. It was impossible to look at Dylan; he was afraid to see an expression on Dylan's face that he wouldn't be able to handle.
"Are you sure?" The car slowed down, and Dylan glanced at the younger boy. "I know you're scared of Carlos." Marco blushed slightly. "I would be too. But you can't just -"
"I'll be fine," he interrupted, before Dylan could say something that would completely embarrass him. Respectably shutting his mouth, the rest of the ride was in silence until they pulled into Marco's driveway. "Well, thanks," he said, not looking at the older boy.
"I'll see you at school," Dylan replied, watching Marco concernedly with a frown plastered onto his face. "I have my cell phone if you need anything…"
"I'll be fine," Marco repeated, trying to assure himself more than Dylan. "Bye." Bravely, he got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to his house. His legs felt rubbery; it felt like an hour before he'd successfully moved both legs.
Just his luck; he opened the front door to his house and who was there, sitting directly in the path to his room? Carlos, of course. His hopes of escaping to his bedroom without being caught were dashed. Carlos cast a look at Marco when he entered the house, but Marco was unable to read it. Was it hatred? Did he know? Was he planning on ripping him to pieces?
Carlos opened his mouth, and Marco flinched. The words couldn't have come out any slower. "What did you do?" Marco blinked. What did he do?
Before he could ask what Carlos meant, Carlos was speaking again. "I came home yesterday after soccer, and Papa was extremely pissed. He started to tell me what you did, but Mama told him that if he said one more word, he was going to regret it and so Dad changed his mind. Then Ma told me that you would tell me if you wanted to." Marco stared, unsure of what to say and extremely grateful to his mother. When Marco didn't say anything, Carlos pressed, "What'd you do?"
Marco decided to take this opportunity and run with it. Smirking, he began, and into his story he started using hand motions to describe his "adventure". "Well, it was me, Spinner, and Craig. Dad just came home, and threw his keys onto the table. Well, I grabbed the keys right off the table, and we went outside. His car was sitting there in the driveway, just begging for us to give it a test ride. I climbed in the front seat, and the other guys got in. Before I know it, the keys are in and the car is starting up… I guess Papa heard the noise, because he came tearing out of the house." Pausing, he glanced at his older brother and was delighted to see his eyes were as round as nickels. "I put the car in reverse, and zoomed out of the driveway, and then took off down the street! I must've been going eighty, ninety miles per hour. It was amazing! So, finally, we're at the end of a street a couple of blocks over, when a police car pulls up right next to me! Like an expert, I turned at the light and drove back to our house. The cops didn't expect a thing! We got out of the car, and Papa was seething. Mama calmed him down eventually, though, and I'm not even grounded."
Carlos stared at his younger brother, silently, for quite a while. "Bull," he said, almost breathless. Arching an eyebrow, Marco seemed to fend off his brother's doubt. Then after a little while, he burst into laughter.
"I totally had you going!" he laughed, and his brother's eyes narrowed.
"Did not."
"You so believed me!" Still chuckling, he headed up to his room.
"No, really," Carlos said from behind him. "What did you do?"
"Nothing big. I…" he hesitated. What would satisfy Carlos? "I failed a test in algebra."
He didn't have to look at Carlos to tell how disappointed he was with the answer. He was obviously hoping for some large scandal. But rather than continuing, he shrugged slightly. "Where'd you run off to last night?"
"I spent the night at a friend's house."
"Whose?" Hesitating, Marco though about telling the truth, but decided against it.
"Spinner's."
"Oh." Marco turned to leave once more, but Carlos began talking again. "Listen… you still hang out with that Michalchuk guy?"
Once again, Marco debated the idea of telling him yes, of course, that they were now closer than ever. But truth be told, he was afraid his brother was going to draw up a conclusion about him. "Nah, not really."
Carlos's face dawned a look of relief. "Good," he said, and then grinned meanly. "So, uh, Marco, would you wanna tag a locker with me and a couple of guys before school tomorrow?"
Though Marco already knew he wouldn't, he asked, "Whose locker?" just to act interested.
"Some kid," Carlos shrugged. "Been giving us… a couple problems."
"Oh, well, I've got… stuff to do." He shrugged like he was frustrated that he couldn't join in on their vandalizing act, and then quickly added, "Sorry."
"No problem. Look, you won't tell anyone, right?"
"Course not."
"Promise?"
Marco uncertainly nodded, a little baffled. His brother was staring at him intensely. "Yeah, I promise."
"Good."
And Marco continued up the stairs, relieved that Carlos still didn't know his secret, but also confused about Carlos's.
"Welcome home, son," said a cold voice before Marco could reach his room. He looked at his father fearfully, wondering where his mom was.
"H-hi Dad," he said in a shaky voice. "Lots of homework… better get started…"
"Did you have fun with your friend?"
"Y-yeah, it was okay."
"Whom were you staying with again?" his dad asked, in an almost sneering tone. Be brave, Marco, he thought to himself, but he couldn't stop shaking.
"Dylan," he tried to say, but his voice came out as a soft whisper.
"Right. Your… boyfriend?" Marco whipped his head around, and thankfully, Carlos wasn't within earshot.
"No, Papa. He's not." His voice was more clear now. "But I won't stop hanging out with him."
"Do whatever you want. But do not even think about bringing him into my home."
He didn't know what to say, other than, "Okay." He watched his dad turn and walk down the hallway in the opposite direction, as if it was someone else that he had addressed rather than his own son, his own flesh and blood. Tears stung his eyes, and a rage flowed through his veins. And then he spoke, and he was sure of what he was saying.
"You know what, Dad?" His father didn't turn around to face him; he merely glanced over his shoulder. "I'm your son. I'm always gonna be your son - and I'll always be your," he dropped his voice, "gay son. Whether or not you like it. Whether or not you like me. But you're going to have to deal with it, because… there's nothing you can do about it."
His father opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then closed it after a second and continued walking. Finally reaching in his room, he grabbed his homework, like he said he would. The first thing he pulled out was his journal, which needed updating. Hurriedly, he turned to an empty page and chewed on the cap of his ink pen, thinking.
[Journal Entry 6]
Marco del Rossi
Carlos still doesn't know. I'm so relieved by this, because I honestly don't know what I'll do if he finds out. My dad's still acting really mean about it; I just hope he'll eventually get over it. My mama was the one who told my papa not to tell Carlos. About me, I mean. I'm really glad I have such an understanding mother.
Last night was a lot of fun. Well, I was a little bit worried when Tom the Pizza Boy showed up. He and Dylan seemed pretty close… turns out they used to date a while back. But Dylan reassured me that he didn't like Tom anymore… in fact, he went as far as saying he liked ME! I won't go too far into details, but I'll just say we held hands. We also watched movies… and I was pretty embarrassed when I found out I drooled on his shoulder.
Fortunately, though, this meant he had to get a new shirt… and he wasn't very discrete about taking the old one off. And this morning, I went in his room and he was standing in just boxers. I'm sorry, but he is so cute.
Why I'm writing this in a journal that my teacher will read I do not know. Truth is, I kind of like writing in this journal now.
I'll stop now, I guess. Time's up!
[/Journal]
Standing, Marco left the journal on his desk and moved over to the computer. He casually signed onto his messenger, and glanced at the list. Paige and Spinner weren't on; they were at lunch. Dylan, of course, wasn't on; he was at hockey. Ellie, however, was online.
BaddaBoom: Hey, El!
NOLabels: Hey Marco. Where were you last night? I tried to call.
BaddaBoom: Dylan's… :-D
NOLabels: Wow!! Did you… do anything?
BaddaBoom: Nah, nothing like that… except hold hands.
NOLabels: Awesome! You guys are so perfect for each other.
BaddaBoom: Heh. Don't get too excited yet. We're hanging this week, though.
NOLabels: Can't, sorry. Plans with Sean.
BaddaBoom: Ahh. Girl's in love!
NOLabels: :-P Actually, I gotta go soon. Supposed to be meeting him.
At this point, Marco's mother began calling for him from down the hall. He smirked at the timing.
BaddaBoom: I have to go, too. Bye!
NOLabels: Bye. Have fun!
They both signed off; Ellie stood from her computer to get ready with Sean, while Marco dashed down the hallway to his mother's needs. Unfortunately, his journal was left in the middle of the table, which he soon forgot completely about.
-----
"Mom?" Ellie called, walking into the living room. To her great surprise, her mom was on the couch, sitting normally, and reading. She wasn't sure of what came as a greater shock… the fact that there were no empty liquor bottles, or that her mom was reading.
"What is it, Ellie?" her mom asked, smiling warmly at her daughter. Ellie was completely confused.
"Uh… what's going on?"
"What do you mean?" her mother asked innocently, blinking like she had no clue. "You know, your father will be home tonight."
She finally understood - her mom always stopped getting so drunk when her father was around. Her face lit up at the terrific news. "That's great! Um, can I meet Sean for lunch?"
"Of course you can! Do you need some extra money?"
"Sure, Mom." She smiled and accepted the bills that her mother handed her, and then dashed out of the house before she could change her mind. As she was walking, she glanced at her arm attire. The black-and-pink striped arm stocking was a bit loose; she'd have to remind herself to adjust it continuously, or else the slowly fading scars would be apparent.
She walked the rest of the way, with a slight bounce in her step. She hadn't cut herself for a little while; life was pretty good, now that she had Sean. And now with her dad coming home, family problems would vaporize.
This time, Ellie beat Sean to the restaurant. She casually hung by the door, until he finally arrived. To her dismay, Jay and Towerz were also walking with him.
"Uh, Ellie," Sean said, introducing them even though they'd already met. "This is Jay and Towerz. Guys, this is Ellie. My girlfriend." She smiled at the term, and the other two guys scoffed.
"Are they…?" Ellie asked, but she didn't have to go much farther.
"Nah, they're leaving. Right guys?" When Sean only got two dirty looks, he added, "Right?" Sneering, they nodded and disappeared into a small store across the street.
Sean moved in to kiss her, and she gratefully accepted the action. Their kiss didn't last that long; they soon broke apart and entered the restaurant, both beaming.
"How's life?" Sean asked, after they had ordered their drinks.
Ellie smiled genuinely at him, and answered truthfully, "It's been… good. Really good. My dad's coming home tonight, so my mom is… well, not being her usual self. You know? It's great having her back like this."
"Cool."
"And how are you, Mr. Cameron?"
"I'm alive." He shrugged. "Tracker's had tons of girls over… he kicks me out when they're there, so I've been hanging over at Jay's lately."
"Oh," Ellie said, frowning slightly.
"It's all good though." He reached over and pulled both of her hands into his and grinned, once more. "Have a date for the dance coming up?"
"I have a feeling I do now," she said, but all of a sudden, Sean stopped smiling. Looking alarmed and feeling self-conscious, she said, "What's wrong? What's the matter?"
He didn't say anything, but let go of her hands. He then reached across the table, until his hands were grazing Ellie's arm. Looking down, she saw her skin was visible, as well as the scars. Her cheeks reddened and she tried to jerk away.
"Those are new scars," Sean said softly. "Those weren't there last week."
"I… I cut myself on glass," she lied lamely, her eyes prickling with tears.
Sean, however, brushed away the lie. "Ellie, have you been… cutting yourself?"
Unknowing what to say, she let a few of the tears stroll down her face. When Ellie didn't say anything, Sean learned forward and pulled down the arm stocking a bit. Tons of scars - some overlaying each other - aligned her pale skin. They were both speechless.
"Why would you do that to yourself?" he asked in a doubtful voice.
Silently crying, she pulled the cotton back up over her arm. "I have to go."
"Ellie, please. Don't."
"I have to. Bye, Sean." She got up in a hurry and left. Grumbling something, Sean threw some money down on the table and took off out the door after her.
-----
It turned out that all Marco's mother needed help with was carrying groceries inside. Grudgingly, he did as he was told. However, when they were finished, he approached his mom.
"Thanks, Mama," he said in a soft whisper, knowing she knew what he meant.
"Anything for you," she smiled back, and kissed his cheek.
The rest of the weekend went by sort of slowly; he talked to Ellie on the phone a little, and Carlos didn't say anything more of his tagging plans. Monday morning, however, when he woke up, he discovered Carlos had already left - along with the spray paint cans from the garage.
His mother asked if he knew where Carlos was, but Marco kept his promise and assured her he had just left early to meet up with some friends.
He ate breakfast, and his mom gave him a ride to school. When he got there, he decided to go up and talk to Dylan. He entered the school building, and when he reached the hallway Dylan's locker was in, there was a great mob of people surrounding something.
Curious, he shoved and grunted his way through the crowd, until with great horror he saw what had happened. Dylan wasn't in sight; however, his locker was the object of every student's attention. Spray painted in bright bold red letters, was the word: "Homo". He knew, without doubt, it was his brother's dirty work. He saw Carlos and Tim, doubled over in laughter and pointing at the locker victoriously.
Absolutely furious, he stormed over to them. "What the hell did you do?!" he shouted, and the whole hallway grew quiet.
"Relax," Carlos said, between laughs. "It wasn't us. We were with you this morning. Remember?" His eyes flashed dangerously, and Marco backed down a bit.
"Besides," Tim added loudly, "Carlos said you got smart and stopped hanging around the queer."
Dylan Michalchuk couldn't have picked a better time to appear in the hallway. He heard every word that Tim said, and looked sadly at Marco. That was, until his eyes adverted to his locker. Face growing bright red, he knew somehow it was probably Marco's brother and his friend. But when he saw Jay and his gang cracking up and ridiculing Dylan loudly, he wasn't positive.
"Just shut up!" Marco snapped at Tim, feeling like crying.
Dylan, of course, was used to this treatment, so he wasn't about to burst out in tears. What Tim said, however, hurt his feelings. Had Marco really said that? He wasn't exactly the shyest guy in the world, either, so he approached Carlos, Tim, and Marco. When he spoke, though, his words were directed to Marco. "Did he…?"
Almost sadly, Marco glanced at the locker and to Carlos, who was shooting discrete daggers at him with his eyes. "N-no," he said softly. "Carlos and Tim were at my house this morning. We came to school together." Dylan stared at him for a few seconds, but he was ready to believe anything Marco said. So, glaring, he shoved past Jay and headed for his locker.
Every whisper in the hall was about him; he heard almost everyone of them, too. Silent, Dylan started fiddling with the lock on his locker. He thought this was done. He thought it was over. Bravely, Marco came and stood next to Dylan.
"I'm really sorry about this, Dyl," he said truthfully. "I had no idea…" Marco's name was getting thrown into the student's conversations as well now.
"Yeah," Dylan said angrily, sighing as he shoved books into the locker aggressively. "You had no idea this could happen to the school fag, right?"
"That's not what I meant…"
"I know, Marco." The first bell rang, and the crowd of people began to thin out as they headed to their own lockers.
Still laughing, Tim and Carlos turned to leave as well, but not before coughing, "Homochuk!" loudly and falsely.
He closed the locker door, and stared at the word "homo". He hated that word, and every negative comment that came with it. Heatedly, he began swiping at the paint with his sleeve, but that did no good. The word was still there. "Guess I should go tell Raditch."
"I'll go with you," Marco offered, feeling it was the least he could do. The secret that his brother was the one who did it burned a hole in his heart, and he couldn't have been anymore pissed at Carlos if he tried.
"It was probably Jay and them. They've always been doing this kind of crap."
"Yeah," Marco said, kind of emptily. The second bell rang, and they were the only two in the hallway. "I don't want that to happen to me," he confessed, his thoughts on Carlos.
"I'll be honest with you Marco… it probably will. But you've got great friends, and they're there for you. And don't forget you've got me." He grinned at the younger boy.
"How could I forget that?" Marco said, grinning back. He did a quick search of the area, and no one was in site. "I like you, Dylan. I know you know I like you. But now… it's getting really hard to… to…"
"Control?"
Marco nodded at the word, feeling a little embarrassed.
"I know what you mean." He stared at Dylan, surprised that he had said that.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Marco? I like you, too." Without another word, Dylan leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Fireworks shot through Marco's mind excitedly; brilliant colors flashed before his eyes. He put a hand on Dylan's cheek and kissed him back. For fear of getting caught, after a little while, they pulled back, grinning widely at each other.
Marco couldn't believe what had just happened. Smiling, Dylan took his arm and they continued their walk to the office in silence.
He thought about telling his mother what Carlos had done, but he'd made a promise not to tell anyone. The promise finally made sense to him. He hated the word, and he hated Carlos, but he could yell later.
For now, everything was right.
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WHOO, I finally finished a chapter! With a kiss, and everything! Aren't you proud?
Well, then, review and tell me so! :-D
Thanks again to everyone who reads and reviews! Wouldn't be doing this without you. Anyway, tell me if you liked this monstrous chapter, hated it, loved it, I dunno, just tell me!
