A/N: New chapter. Happy? Okay, so there's only a bit of Darco in this chapter, but I promise, starting next chapter, the real stuff starts with them:)
Marco lifted himself up from his bed, not sure he was ready for his cousin. He was actually slightly afraid of him, but he opened the door despite his unhappiness at the thought of having to do so.
"Marco," Giulio practically whispered, "I come in?" he asked. It was always odd when Giulio spoke English. He normally didn't like to even attempt it because he knew speaking it would prove Marco was much more skilled at it than him. That was something he never liked to admit.
Marco nodded. "Leave the door open," he told him.
Giulio sat down in his desk chair across from Marco's bed. "Why, in God's name," he was speaking Italian again (figures) "did you do that?" he asked.
"What?" asked Marco, taken aback. "Did you want to go to jail?"
"I didn't say that," said Giulio. "Why didn't you go through with it?" he asked, determined to get a good answer.
Marco shrugged. "Why does it matter? It's done with. I'm going out with Karina tomorrow, and then leaving the morning after."
"I thought you were staying the week," said Giulio, confused.
"My mom took pity on me," he rolled his eyes, "and got me an earlier flight. The stupid trial wasn't what I wanted!"
"But you wanted to do it in the first place!" Giulio argued.
Marco shrugged again. "Putting you in jail won't give me back my eyesight," he stated wisely.
Giulio sighed. "I suppose that's true."
"Besides," said Marco, not really wanting Giulio to think he'd actually been forgiven, "you're the only one who knows what happened that night. There wasn't much I could have said."
"That's true," he repeated, "but I'm sure you could have come up with something…"
Marco rolled his eyes. "You want to go to court? You want to go to jail? Ask someone to lock you up! Be my guest…jeez, why is this so important to you?" he asked, aggravated.
"I just wanna know…" he whined, tapping his fingers on the desk.
"Maybe because," said Marco, deciding not to tell him about the Dylan reason, "if you went to jail, you'd be angry with me, but if you stay here, you'll feel soooo guilty," he laughed. "I'm only looking out for myself."
"Of course," Giulio slightly chucked.
"I want you to know," said Marco, once again sitting down on his comfortable bed, "that I don't trust you. At all. I may never trust you again," he finished honestly.
"And I want you to know that I will never be okay talking about…your gay…thing," said Giulio. "I don't like it."
"Well, there's nothing either one of us can do to change our feelings, so I suggest you leave," said Marco, showing him the door.
Giulio sighed. "In case you wondered, I told my mom about the uh…my problems. I'm going into rehab," he said, standing up.
Marco raised an eyebrow. "You want a medal?" he asked sarcastically, though there was a slight smile on his lips.
"I like medals, yeah." He ran a hand through his hair, forgetting about Marco's request for him to leave the room.
"Giulio, is there something you specifically need?" he asked.
Giulio shook his head. "Then, aren't we done?" Giulio nodded, walking over to the door.
"Want me to close it behind me?" he asked.
"Please," said Marco.
After the door was shut, Marco put his head against the back wall behind his head. He kept reminding himself that he was almost done with this stupid trip. There was no way he was back going to back down and leave his second night in the country. He could handle it.
The next morning, he got up significantly later than the previous day, only walking into the kitchen at about ten-thirty.
His aunt caught him off guard when she leaned over and hugged him tightly. "I love you," she whispered in his ear. She quickly composed herself, leaning over the counter. "What would you like to eat?" she asked.
"Um…I'm not really hungry," Marco mumbled.
"Okay, I'll make eggs," she replied, going to the stove. Marco rolled his eyes, smiling.
"Of course," he said.
"Hey, ma," said Giulio, hugging her from behind.
"Eggs are in the process; have a seat," she ordered, directing him to a chair at the table. Marco wasn't ready to be brave, still deciding on a seat quite far away from his cousin.
As they waited for the eggs, Marco heard that incessant tapping noise, again, coming from his cousin. Giulio, as it was known, had a 'nerve' problem. When stressing situations came about, such as Marco's…well, everything about Marco, and the fact that he was about to launch into withdrawal. Marco had always failed to ask what he…took, exactly, but he realized he really didn't want to know. All he wanted was the tapping to stop; it drove him insane.
"Giulio!" he shouted, surprised even at his own outburst. "Please," he got much softer, "can you try to stop tapping?" he asked.
Giulio didn't get angry or apologize. He probably sat on his hands, as his mother often advised because as soon as the request was made, the tapping stopped.
"You will be spending time with Karina today?" Rita asked.
Marco nodded. "Yeah…I think I'm just going over to her house in a little bit," he picked at his eggs, hoping to gain an appetite. "Or maybe…" he smirked, taking two bites of his eggs to keep up appearances, "I'll just go now."
He grabbed his coat from the chair by the door, and ran out the door. He was going to avoid those eggs at all cost. Taking out his cell phone, Marco dialed Karina's number, asking her to come walk over to his house, and they'd go somewhere together. He would have gone to her house, but…well, he didn't, for obvious reasons.
She walked up the driveway and Marco met her halfway. "Let's go," he said quickly, knowing if his aunt knew he was still on the property, more breakfast would be shoved down his throat.
"So," said Karina, as they sat down on a bench. The two were in a park that they had often visited together before Marco's traumatic incident. It was sad to sit there, remembering what it had looked like, and how he had loved looking at the lake; it wasn't the same anymore. Nothing was.
"So," he repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Tell me about this boy," she nudged him in the stomach, smiling.
"Ah…Dylan?" said Marco. "He is the most amazing boy I've ever met."
"Aww," she said, laughing, "how cute! Tell me all about him."
"Well, he's, like, this big time hockey star…and I've been told he's blond with blue eyes," he said dreamily, "but he is so amazing, Karina."
"He sounds it," she quickly agreed. "Will I ever meet Prince Charming?" she asked.
"You'll meet someone, Kay," he said, laughing.
"No! I meant, will I ever meet your boyfriend?" she asked.
"First of all, he's not exactly my boyfriend," he denied, not sure what he and Dylan were, "and second of all, of course you will!"
"You know what this reminds me of?" asked Karina, as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "When we had that little 'dating' thing?"
"I knew," said Marco, putting his head on his forehead, "that you were going to bring that back someday!"
"Hey! Of course, I'm going to haunt you with it!" she giggled slightly at the look on his face,
"I'm leaving tomorrow," he said, still uncomfortable with the idea of not loving being around her as much as he used to. Everything had changed…everything.
"Without seeing Maria and Christoforo? I don't think so! We'd better make the most of this day," she grabbed his head, pulling him up. Apparently, they were going to spend the day with his other friends.
"Let's just keep the Dylan part to ourselves around them, yes?" said Marco. Karina nodded enthusiastically. He was glad they didn't speak about his disability.
…………………………………………………………………………….
"Nine, dad…the flight is at nine!" he yelled, banging on his father's door the next morning, begging him to open up.
"Why you need for, hmm?" his father asked, still half-asleep. "Can't your aunt or uncle drive you?"
"Well, I'd ask Uncle Adamo, but he's never here, and you don't have to take me! Maybe I just want to say good-bye to you," he said, tired of his father's pushing him away. Sometimes he convinced himself it was about his sexuality, but deep inside, he knew it wasn't. His father had always been slightly…uncaring. Was that the word? He loved him, but didn't want to ever have to be responsible for him. Marco didn't want the divorce, and he definitely didn't want to admit that his mother had been right.
Marco sighed. "Oh, all right," said his father, not sounding too happy about having to get up.
Marco's mother was wrong. His father cared about him. His father wanted him to stay. He may have forgotten many important dates…just in the past year, but that didn't mean Marco didn't matter to him. His mother was wrong.
Mr. Del Rossi opened the door, hugging his son closely to him. "Have a good trip," he mumbled. He then closed the door behind him. Marco took a deep breath.
That was it, he thought to himself. Marco decided it didn't matter. He wouldn't get all upset, having to cry over it. He'd go home, and just worry about it at a different time.
"Let us drive you to the airport," said his aunt, putting her hand gently on his shoulder. Of course, she said 'us' because Giulio was going to tag along. In fact, he would have driven Marco himself, but Marco was still too afraid to be alone with him, besides his aunt (unlike his father) actually wanted to bid him a proper farewell.
When his aunt got behind the wheel of the car, a sudden thought came to his mind, which caused his stomach to lurch uncomfortably.
Would he ever be able to drive?
They arrived at the airport, walking him to the spot where they were going to let him off.
"I'm sorry that…this visit wasn't wanted from you," said his aunt, inconspicuously looking down at her son, "but I was very happy to see you."
Marco nodded. "You must come visit Canada sometime," he said, though he knew it would probably never happen.
"If Uncle Adamo comes back from wherever the hell he was," he gave his aunt an apologetic look for the curse, "tell him I said hello."
"I love you!" she said softly, hugging him tightly. "You will be okay?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah. I'll be fine, but I'm not sure if I'll ever get the air back into my lungs after that hug," he teased.
Giulio felt uncomfortable. What was he supposed to do or say in the situation? Was he supposed to act as though he wasn't there, which was what he was doing? Finally, he moved closer to him, and patted his shoulder. That was good enough, right?
"You are such an ass," said Marco, making Giulio pull his arm back sharply. "You can't even give your baby cousin a hug?" he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Even if I were one for the odd cousin on cousin relationship, you're really not my type; don't worry."
Giulio rolled his eyes. "I'm the ass?" he shot back, taking a look at his mother. He sighed, leaned forward, and gave Marco the shortest hug he'd ever given.
"Bye," he said softly.
"Bye," Marco repeated.
It may not have been much at all. In fact, many people would have frowned upon the pathetic good-bye they had given each other, but to them it was enough. Marco was never going to trust him along again; that was for sure. Giulio wasn't…may never would, but might eventually…not…accept him for who he was, but no matter what, they knew they were related, and had to deal with that in the best way they could. There was love in both of them, somewhere really deep down.
Marco was glad to hug his mother when he got off the plane, and didn't know where the tears had come from, but before he knew it, he was practically in hysterics.
His mother didn't ask why he was crying. She simply held him close to her, gently rubbing his back, paying no attention to the stares they were being given. Marco pulled away from her after a moment, wiping furiously at his eyes.
"I think," he started, making sure he wouldn't break out in tears again, "that I was just overwhelmed," he said.
"Okay," his mother nodded, walking him out to the car. Not a word was spoken throughout the entire ride; Marco didn't know what to say. When they finally arrived home, Marco planned to go straight to his room, but stopped.
Marco turned around, closing his eyes tightly. "I hate to say it, ma…but you were right about dad. You always were."
"Oh, Marco," she sighed, "I didn't want to be. Go rest," she suggested.
He nodded furiously, planning to do just that.
"You're back!" Ellie exclaimed when he walked into the school that morning, Cathy by his side.
"This is where I leave you," she said, as always, kissing his cheek when she departed.
"So," said Ellie as they walked together to English, "much earlier than I expected."
"Yeah," he laughed. "I'm so glad to be home. I can't wait until lunch," he smiled.
"I know," she said, smirking. "You want to see lover boy. He'll be so happy to see you too." Marco smiled in return.
Marco knew that when one is excited, the day drags on, but really, was it still sixth period? He was hungry and he wanted to see Dylan! He couldn't even stare at the clock's passing second hand…well, he could stare, but he doubted it would do much good. He also felt as though he'd asked Ellie the time one too many times during that period, so when he bell finally rang, he was thankful not to have to tap her again.
"Here's your locker, Marco and…oh, look who it is," she smiled knowingly. "I'm gone!"
Marco began to unload his stuff, carefully throwing everything in. He sighed. The science textbook was every bit as thick as the English one. Which to take?
"Hey!" came the surprised voice of Dylan from his right side. Marco smiled automatically.
"Hey, Dyl," he said, still debating on the textbooks.
"Why did you come home so early?" he asked, quickly adding, "Not that I mind, of course."
Marco ignored his question, embarrassed that he was going to have to ask for help. "Dylan," he quieted himself, hoping no one else could hear him, "which one of these is my math textbook?"
Dylan pointed, shook his head at his own stupidity, and took Marco's small hand gently as he placed it firmly on the top of the right book.
"Thank you," he sighed.
"Marco, you know it's okay to admit weakness every once in a while, right?" Dylan felt that the more Marco kept trying to deny the weakness, the more of a weakness it seemed to become.
"Right," Marco laughed. "You sound like my mother."
"Forget it, then…" said Dylan. "You and me? Tonight? No Ellie or your mother or anything? Please?" So, it wasn't the greatest way to ask a question, considering he just threw in about four fragmented sentences, but it made Marco smile nonetheless.
"That sounds great," said Marco, forgetting about Dylan's call on his 'weakness'.
"Great!" Dylan said happily, as though he hadn't expected it. "I will…umm…" he cleared his throat. Nervous? Dylan Michalchuk…nervous? That word simply didn't fit in with his personality. What was wrong with him?
"Well, I…" It was Marco, of course. No other boy had brought out the odd 'nervous' emotion that was apparently in his body other than Marco. He wasn't just any boy.
"Yes?" Marco pressed on, obviously amused. Dylan felt himself immediately loosen up.
"Pick you up?" he asked, laughing.
"Sounds good," said Marco. "If you can manage that…wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." Marco pushed him gently, teasing.
"Oh, I see we have a comedian, hmm?" asked Dylan, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm looking forward to tonight, Dylan. You can be sure of that," he smiled. "You know," he started, "the bell rang about…5 minutes ago."
"We have not been talking that long," Dylan denied, shaking his head. Marco shrugged.
"Whatever you say. Mr. Simpson will definitely know now that I'm back in town."
"Maybe there's another guy making me late to Media Immersions!" said Dylan, as Ellie approached. "You don't know."
"Oh, right…woe is me," said Marco, "there's someone else making you late to class. Besides, I don't even believe you," he crossed his arms playfully.
Dylan laughed. "Okay, okay, so you're too cute to pass up. Trust me, hon, no other guy is good enough…for me to be late to class for…but now that we're on the subject of lateness--"
"Get to class," Ellie ordered, trying to hide her smile.
A/N: So, I hope this chapter lived up to your standards. It was mostly an introduction to next chapter. There will be a lot of Darco! I'm excited lol. Please review.