Ch. 6

There was complete silence; no words were spoken. I couldn't handle it anymore.

"Tim, please, say something,"

"Why, Marco?" he responded sadly, "I don't know what I should say,"

"Tim, we…we need to talk like in person, okay?"

"Marco,"

"Please," I begged desperately.

"I'll come over,"

As soon as the house doorbell rang, Marco was there to open it. He didn't need his parents asking any questions. He ran off, with Tim at his heels, to his room. He shut his door quickly behind them, not forgetting to lock it.

"Tim, listen, okay?"

Tim nodded, of course, and waited for the speech, that was sure to hurt him, to begin.

"I really like you, but I'm sorry. I can't do this,"

"Because?" It wasn't really a question he needed answered. He feared he already knew the answer.

"Dylan," he confirmed.

"You still trust him?" he yelled in frustration as he tried to make Marco understand reason.

"No," Marco said honestly, "but I love him. Look, I don't exactly know what I should do right now,"

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know! Look, I just," he brought his voice back to normal level again as he calmed down slightly.

"I want to make you happy, my parents happy, my friends happy…there's not much time to think about what I want," he smiled despite his frustration, "I don't think anyone's quite been interested in my opinion of my own life, really,"

"Well, I am. I mean, I know I haven't known you for so long, but…I really like you and, sometimes I think you feel the same way,"

"Well, maybe we could…try it and…I," he stopped short, suddenly wanting to bang his head hard against the nearest wall. He was about to make a Dylan type proposition!

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"Nothing, I just…I can't do this to you. You'll thank me later,"

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I'm going to hurt you,"

"Marco—"

"No! It's not a 'maybe' anymore. If we keep this up, hurting each other because I don't want to put you through what….what Dylan put me through,"

"By doing this, you really are," he said sadly.

"Like I said, you'll thank me for this later. Please….just go," he put his head in his hands as Tim shut the door.

He was fighting back the tears. He picked up his phone to reveal a missed call from Dylan. All the confusion, depression, and suppressed anger he'd felt over the past year just came out. He cried himself to sleep that night.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"July is passing quickly, I think," commented Ellie as she and Marco walked aimlessly around the block.

"Ellie, it's the second," he laughed.

"I know, but, before you know it…" she didn't continue her though. "Marco, it'll be okay,"

He sighed tiredly, "I'm fine, El,"

She turned suddenly and hugged him tightly. "Well, that was unexpected," he replied laughing.

She laughed as well, gesturing for him to sit on the bench. "I never did that,"

"Okay….sure," he rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I know it'll be fine, but I just…it seems like every time I think I'm okay, everything just goes wrong again. This may make no sense, but it really really hurt me when I hurt Tim,"

Ellie thought for a moment as she stared into his pained eyes, "It makes sense. Maybe it's because you're still remembering how much he hurt you and you're scared. Also, it must be different for you being the older one in the relationship, huh?"

He nodded, agreeing. It did make a lot of sense. She understood the situation. Though, it brought up something he's be wondering about.

"El?"

"Mhmm?"

She waited for him to get this thoughts straight. When he finally voiced his question, she wasn't sure how to answer it.

"What do you think I should do?"

She had been so afraid of this. She figured it was expected that he'd want his best friend's opinion. She chose her words carefully, though.

"Well, Marco, I just simply want you to be happy. All these years, I've had to see you and me go through so many bad things; sometimes together, sometimes not. I never knew how you felt, though. The only thing that was clear to me was you and Dylan. Make yourself happy, that's the important thing."

He sighed, obviously not satisfied.

"I know, in the end, it's entirely my choice, but I want to know what you think,"

"What do I think? I don't know if you should be with Dylan, Tim, or even Spinner! All I know…is…you love him,"

"Ellie…I," he stammered, not sure how to respond.

She hugged him again, "Mom wants me home, call me later,"

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

"Marco! Hey, Marco, wait up,"

It had been not two minutes after Ellie left, when Dylan had shown up. Marco walked faster. It was like the stress was watching up to him along with Dylan.

"What are you, my stalker?" he asked irritably.

He looked slightly put off, hurt, by the accusation.

"I wanted to talk. I asked your mom where you were, but you weren't with Ellie, so—"

"Again, are you my stalker?"

"You're not answering my calls," he went on ignoring the question.

"Maybe I haven't been home," he argued.

"You always have your cell with you,"

"And how would you know?" Marco challenged, not missing a beat.

"Because…you told me like forever ago that whenever I called you, you'd have it,"

"Well, maybe it changed since we broke up, how would you know? You haven't exactly been here,"

Marco was beyond frustrated. Everything just seemed to be going wrong again! Dylan wouldn't take a hint, Paige only KEPT hinting, Tim probably hated his guts now, and he couldn't even figure out what he wanted/needed.

"Dylan," he said slowly and clearly as though talking to a five year old. "Dylan, I haven't had to think about you, and all the pain that came with you, for so long…and now you've ruined everything I set up so perfectly. I had my life back," he sighed. "You can come over. I want to have a calm conversation.

Dylan nodded, and together they walked back to Marco's, surprisingly, empty house. Marco led the way to his room, and couldn't help but think that less than two days ago, it had been Tim following him to the same destination.

"So, you're saying, Marco," he paused, "that you haven't thought about me? Not once?" he asked.

"I don't—it hurt too much to think of you. It hurts even now to look at you, Dylan, and just…remembering what we had…" he said sadly, his voice breaking.

"Marco," Dylan pushed Marco's hair out of his eyes, (while thinking how much he really did that) and ran his fingers across his cheek affectionately.

"You know that I never meant to hurt you, right?"

"Dylan," he was ashamed to feel tears running down his cheeks again." Dylan quickly wiped them away.

"It's okay. I promise, it's alright. I'm just…I'm here for you,"

Marco lost all of his composure. He lost complete control and fell into Dylan's open arms crying hysterically into his shoulder.

Dylan rubbed his back soothingly and told him that everything would be okay. Marco had held it in for too long, and he had to let it all out. Dylan convinced Marco that it was okay to do that.

He continued to sooth him as best as he could, but for the most part, he let him relax himself, knowing that there wasn't much he could do.

"I'm sorry," he said, though the words were barely coherent.

Dylan sat them both down onto the bed, as Marco's head was still buried deeply in his shoulder.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked, confused.

Marco managed to laugh slightly, "Well, for getting your shirt wet," he rubbed frantically at his eyes, as though it would erase Dylan's recollection that he had ever cried.

Dylan shook his head, "Do you still need my shoulder?" he smiled.

Marco shook his head, but then quickly thought back. "Well, don't…don't let go of me," he said piteously.

Dylan only held on tighter and kissed the top of his head.

After a few minutes, Marco's breathing had calmed down, and he had evidently fallen asleep. Dylan smiled. If his thoughts were correct, he probably hadn't had a calm sleep in days, so he definitely needed it.

Dylan gently detached himself from Marco, and lay him down on the bed, pulling the covers over him, and kissing his forehead softly.

"I could never let you go,"

He then left the house, leaving Marco to his much needed sleep.