A/N: This chapter took comparatively more time, I guess because I felt like it really needed to be right. I hope you all enjoy the next installment!
Thank you, by the way, to everyone who's reviewed so far. I really appreciate your support and help (poor newbie like me doesn't realize that she has anonymous reviews turned off, heee). Thank you thank you, and please let me know what you think about this next chapter!
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Disclaimer: I own nothing. I kid you not.
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Craig had expected that his life would have improved within a month. Surely, he'd thought, by mid-June, fate would have gotten bored with screwing up his life.
Unfortunately, the situation could not have been much worse. Ashley was gone, along with any semblance of a solid relationship between the two of them. He'd lost his guitar, as well as some blood trying to get it back. Home was miserable now that Caitlin was gone, which left Joey always on edge. And then, the cherry on the sundae, Craig hadn't had a normal, friendly, comfortable conversation with Marco ever since that damn party.
Now, as he learned from Ellie, Marco would be away on another continent in less than a week, leaving Craig to believe that the summer was destined to be an absolute, horrible failure.
Craig certainly wasn't proud of what he'd done with himself since the movie wrapped; each day he spent purging his brain of any lyrics that had been collecting, and when he had the opportunity, putting them to music on a cheap rental guitar. One night a week he went to his support group, which was both something to anticipate and something to fear. Conveniently, Ellie was the perfect connection to the two people plaguing Craig's mind. However, inconveniently, she was also less than thrilled with his recent behavior. He often daydreamed about amazing conversations with Ellie, in which he told her everything on his mind, and she told him what he wanted to hear in return.
This idea of what he wanted to hear, though, changed constantly. Some days he longed for Ashley, so on those days, fantasy-Ellie would tell him that when Ashley came back from England, their relationship would be rekindled. Other days he couldn't fathom a future with Ashley beyond high school--much less for the rest of his life--and on those days, fantasy-Ellie would tell him that he was better off without her. Still, there were subjects that even fantasy-Craig had a hard time bringing up, and the resulting futility he felt thinking about those would usually lead him to wonder why, when other guys fantasized about sex, he fantasized about talking.
Only sometimes would Craig allow his mind to drift to Marco, and even then, it was only to mourn the loss of a good friendship. If his mind showed the least bit tendency towards what he feared most--the feelings that Marco had somehow released within him in a split-second kiss--he would immediately distract himself. Leave that one to the realm of the subconscious, he decided.
Despite his best avoidance, however, Craig was well aware that in a matter of hours he would be attending the last support group before Marco's flight out later that week. Though he preferred to ignore it, he had a nagging urgency to do something.
Either that, or risk losing even more than he already had.
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Craig arrived before the usual time for support group that night. Earlier, while showering and hunting down his cleanest clothes, he had decided that if nothing else, he needed to write. He'd nervously scribbled a note as his wet hair dripped onto the paper, making a blotchy mess out of his candid confession to Marco that finally forced him to admit at least part of what he'd been internalizing for too long. Sorry for my sucky behavior; sorry that I avoided you; we really need to talk; forgive me?
Now, the anticipation of giving the note to Ellie was killing him. When he finally saw a tiny dot walking from the direction of the bus stop, Craig faced the building and tried for his most convincing nonchalant look. However, after giving Ellie ample time to get closer, Craig turned around only to have his heart catch in his throat tightly.
There, walking right beside her, was none other than Marco.
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Hearing Marco whimper ever-so-slightly as they approached, Ellie took his hand and spoke quietly. "You will be fine, just like I told you."
"I don't even know what to say."
"Marco, you need to do this."
He nodded and released Ellie's hand when they neared, putting on his best smile.
Craig, on the other hand, looked like he might vomit.
"Craig!" Ellie said, perhaps a bit too cheerfully, when they met. "Why don't you two stay out here? I'll tell everyone that you had to go home. Be back in an hour!" With that, Ellie scooted away through the doors, leaving Craig and Marco face-to-face and awkwardly silent.
Marco was the first to speak. "I want to say, I'm sorry--"
"No, no, no!" Craig said quickly, cutting him off. "I'm sorry. I even have this note..." He held the paper out to Marco.
Marco took the note and read through what Craig had written. Looking up when he finished, he half-smiled. "That was nice, Craig."
"Nice..." Craig scratched his head and went to sit on the curb. Staring at nothing in particular, he said, "I wanted it to be more than just nice, Marco. It's important to me."
"I know," said Marco, joining Craig.
"It's just, I've lost enough. I don't want to lose a friend like you, too."
"You won't," Marco reassured, placing his arm around Craig's shoulders. "I'll be back in a couple of months, and we'll have an amazing year--"
"You sound awfully confident." As he spoke, Craig concentrated on his words as hard as possible, trying to ignore that the hairs on his arms were standing on end.
"Fine. Tell me what's really on your mind."
Craig wasn't expecting such a response from Marco, and was left speechless for what felt like eternity. In this time, Marco brought his arm back to his own body and pulled his bent legs to his chest.
Finally, Craig gave in against his own better judgement. Keeping his head tilted towards the ground, picking at tiny bits of gravel to busy his hands, he admitted, "You confused me, Marco."
"How is that?"
"Well, what I told you before--before, the uh--before you told me to tell you you're an idiot?"
"Yeah?"
"I wasn't really lying. I mean, you're a great guy, you know? A great friend. And when I said I wasn't--you know--"
"Gay?"
"Yeah, I wasn't really lying then, either."
Marco nodded his head and looked out to nothing in particular. "O-kay."
Craig's speech became more frenzied. "But then you kissed me!"
"I tried to apologize, Craig--"
"But no! I don't want you to apologize. Because then you kissed me, and all of a sudden, I didn't know what to think any more." Craig was now staring intensely at the side of Marco's face, breathing somewhat heavily, waiting for Marco to stop looking ahead and turn towards him.
But Marco remained fixated on nothingness, completely unsure of what to say next. He remembered Craig's reaction at Dylan's party, how he'd looked like some hybrid of shocked and disgusted. Marco hadn't given it much thought at the time, since clearly the breakup was first priority, but it seemed fairly obvious that Craig had felt nothing positive about that kiss, and so that was that. He'd learned a long time ago that not dwelling was the best way to deal when Craig was involved.
"Marco, listen."
Slowly, Marco turned his head to look to Craig.
"When you kissed me, something happened. I don't know if it's because I never thought about it, or, or, or what. It wasn't bad, though. Surprising, maybe--"
"Craig, don't lie to yourself," Marco said quietly, averting his eyes from Craig's. "I saw your face, okay? The way you reacted..."
"I was shocked, yeah. Can you blame me?" Marco shook his head. "Yeah, me either. But I know, because I've kissed girls before where I've never felt like that, I know that something else is going on. I mean, let's talk about Ellie. You knew something was up when you kissed her, right?"
"Craig!" Marco interjected.
"Well I didn't feel like that. It didn't feel wrong like that." Craig inhaled deeply, pausing to try to catch Marco's gaze again. "But what I need to know is, was it because it was you, because you're a guy, or was it just a fluke?"
Marco realized that despite all previous history, this conversation was breaking all the rules of logic: The guy's guy who once managed to balance two women simultaneously was questioning his sexuality. And so, for the second time in recent memory, Marco broke a rule of his own, the rule he'd set for himself years before when anything beyond friends with Craig was decidedly unfeasible.
He dipped his head, placed two fingers under Craig's chin, and pulled him in for a soft, brushing kiss.
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