Author's Note: Here it is. So, you guys have won me over. I'm going to continue Anytime is Good, just not now because the plot really isn't the same as The Definition of Happiness, anyway, so who cares if they both have pregnancy?
Marco shivered silently, watching as Dylan blew up an air mattress for himself. He'd insisted that Marco should sleep on the bed, considering he was the guest. Marco had been too tired to argue, and he knew that Dylan really didn't mind giving away his comfort at the moment.
"Can I ask you a question?" asked Marco, hoping he wouldn't get a wise remark about how that was a question as well.
"Sure," said Dylan, pulling a blanket for himself out of the closet. "What's up?"
"How much school have you put off for me?"
Dylan pushed the pesky blond curls out of his eyes, making it clear that he wasn't going to answer by searching his bookshelf for a movie. Yes, the bookshelf had a single book at the end of it. The rest were movies.
"What do you want to watch?" he asked.
"I want you to answer me," said Marco, feeling so sorry for how behind Dylan must have been.
"Don't worry about it," said Dylan. He put his hands on Marco's shoulders. "I'll go back tomorrow," he said, rolling his eyes. "What do you want to watch?"
"I don't care," said Marco, walking over to the bed. Dylan watched him take off his shoes silently.
"You can wear something of mine," said Dylan.
"Thanks," he said quietly, looking down. He knew he should call his mother. Though she knew where he was, she didn't know he was staying.
Dylan handed him a large white t-shirt, and Marco said, to avoid complication, he'd just sleep in his boxers. He didn't need anymore than the shirt from him.
"I'll just go to the bathroom, then," he said. There were worse things he could be doing, of course, than staying in Dylan's room while the older boy changed. But he figured the best plan would be to let him change alone.
After changing, Marco stayed in the bathroom to call his mother who seemed reluctant to let him stay at the Michalchuk's house, but she knew they would make sure he got to school without Corey becoming a problem, so she gave him her permission.
Marco knocked on Dylan's door, afraid he'd walk in on Dylan changing. "It's open," he called, so Marco knew he was done. Or assumed, anyway.
"Hey," he said carefully, walking in.
Dylan frowned. He had almost been able to forget the way Marco's face looked during the few minutes he'd been gone. It was like every time he saw him, everything came back. He couldn't imagine what it felt like for Marco, having to look in the mirror every morning. Of course, he had the pain to deal with in addition to that.
"Do you hurt?" he asked. It wasn't until Marco looked at him in confusion that he realized his question didn't make that much sense.
"I mean," he restated, "do you—are your…okay, are you in pain?"
Marco couldn't help but smile at the look of pure concern in Dylan's eyes. "I'm okay," he said. "I promise," he added, seeing that Dylan didn't look entirely convinced.
Marco stood in the doorway while Dylan sat on the bed, his legs hanging over the mattress. It took Dylan a moment to sense what was wrong with the scene.
"You're allowed to come in, you know," he said, waving him in.
"Oh," said Marco, blushing. Everything Dylan said seemed to make him think twice about the next thing he'd say. Though, he had to admit, 'oh' was a pretty brilliant thing to come out of his mouth.
"So, why don't you?" asked Dylan, raising an eyebrow.
Marco didn't answer. He walked further into the room, closing the door, and taking a seat on the bed. Dylan pulled his legs up from their hanging position up closer to his chest. He made space for Marco to sit next to him, and they both laid their backs against the headboard.
Dylan chuckled. "My shirt fits pretty well on you," he said, smiling.
Marco pushed him playfully. "We get it. I'm short and skinny," Marco rolled his eyes wearily.
"What are we watching?" he asked.
"You never told me what you wanted," Dylan pointed out.
Marco leaned into him, barely comprehending the words being said. He was exhausted. Dylan ran his hands through Marco's hair, making Marco even more tempted to just let himself sleep.
"You okay there?" asked Dylan, smiling down at him. Marco nodded into his shoulder, his eyes half closed.
"Long day," he replied.
"It definitely has been," Dylan agreed. "I'm glad you're here with me," he said softly.
Marco snuggled up closer to him, and Dylan was sure he was just barely listening and hardly awake.
Dylan sighed as Marco mumbled incoherently into his chest. He wanted to know what was going on with them. Were they just friends? They'd kissed twice, and Marco knew how much he cared about him, though he'd never actually said he felt the same way. What was he to assume?
"Marco," he said, checking if he had finally fallen dead to the world.
Marco didn't answer, so he decided the rest of their conversation could be had at a different time. He gently pulled away from him, putting the pillow behind his head, and climbed down to the air mattress.
"Night, Marco," he said, turning off the light.
"Why is Paige taking the bus?" asked Marco, getting in the car with Dylan to drive to school.
"She'll meet up with you when I drop you off."
"Right, the babysitting," Marco muttered, genuinely unhappy about the idea. "Well, wouldn't it be easier if you drove her too, then?"
"She tends to sleep later than me," said Dylan.
"Hmm…never would have thought. After you take me, you're going straight back to your school," he told Dylan sternly.
"I got it. I got it, mom," he teased, starting the car.
"Aren't you worried about everything you missed?" he asked, leaning back against the seat.
"No," said Dylan, opening the window. "I am worried about you, however."
Marco rolled his eyes, turning away from him. "You don't need to be. You made me stop the whole…relationship."
"But you're still not happy," said Dylan, "and I know a part of you still wants to be with him. That's what worries me."
"Could we just not talk about this?" he asked, looking out the window.
"We have to talk about it at some time," said Dylan, becoming frustrated. "It's like every time I try to help you…" He paused, shaking his head.
"What?" Marco asked, but Dylan just sighed. "Tell me. What? Every time you try to help me, I act like this? Defensive? Upset? It's because I'm fine."
"Wow, that makes a hell of a lot of sense," said Dylan, rolling his eyes. "Look, I don't want to fight with you, okay?"
"Then, just…stop. I don't want to talk about Corey, okay? I'm done with him. Whatever."
Dylan sighed, biting his lip. "I thought you were stronger than this."
"Guess you were wrong," said Marco, not sure how much longer he could stay in the car with him. He was so damn confused.
Neither one of them said another word for the rest of the car ride. Dylan pulled up by the side of the school, watching Marco get out of the car.
"Have a good day," he said sadly.
Marco slammed the door. "Look, all I want is to be independent."
"Fine," said Dylan. "Then I won't help you next time you're clinging to me with tears running down your cheeks because that really shows how much help you don't ask for."
"Oh, whatever," said Marco, crossing his arms, and walking into the school. He actually thought their plan had been foiled, and someone forgot to meet him, but he was proved wrong. The moment he walked in the double door entrance, Paige stood inside waiting for him, her hand on her hip, looking just as tired as he was.
"Hey, hun," she said, pulling her back off the wall. "Sorry I missed you this morning. How'd you sleep?"
Marco walked quickly past her, wanting to block out every other person in the world. He was sixteen years old. He didn't need all of this protection, and that is exactly what he had tried to tell Dylan in the car.
"Look, there's something wrong with you," said Paige, catching up with him, gently touching his arm to stop him from walking away so hastily.
"There's nothing wrong, other than the fact that I'm sick of people worrying," said Marco, walking even faster.
"Maybe if you'd been able to stop Corey from beating the hell of you yourself, we wouldn't be so worried!" she yelled. She knew it was a stupid thing to say, but she had to say something to get him to turn around, and she didn't always think before she spoke.
"So, you do think I'm weak!"
"No," she said, "No, that was a stupid thing to say. Listen," she took Marco's hands in her own, "I know you were scared, and he made you feel a certain…way, whether or not it was love, I don't have the right to say, and I don't think you're weak. It's just…look, when I saw you like all bruised and broken like that, it hurt really badly. We just want to make sure it never happens again."
"I used your cover-up again this morning," said Marco. "Hope you don't mind."
"Nope," said Paige, letting go of his hands. "Another thing you have to understand is…Craig and I kind of feel like we let you down. It's not that we think you're fragile, but as much as we want to help you, we also want to feel like we're doing something."
"So, you're trying to make yourself feel better?"
"Put words in my mouth one more time, Del Rossi. One more time."
"Fine," he sighed, giving up. He watched her angry face quickly turn into a smirk.
"So, anything going on with you and you-know-who?" she asked, as they walked at a newly steady pace.
"Your brother?" he asked. She nodded emphatically, not trying to hide how much hope she had for him. "I don't know how I feel. I don't think I'm ready."
"I understand," she said, leading him into their English classroom. "Just relax."
Marco passed through the first half of his day in a blur. He couldn't believe he'd had yet to see Corey. Was he in school? Avoiding him. He sat through his history class, the last period before lunch, playing with the pen in front of him, watching it roll back and forth. He simply couldn't concentrate on the teacher. All he could think about was Corey, and occasionally, the thought of Dylan came up as well. Why did he have to be so cruel all the time? Dylan cared. Was that so terrible? He was too caught up in his own thoughts to realize that people were whispering about him all around the room.
Marco sat down at his lunch table, along with the rest of his friends. They seemed to be uncomfortable around him, not speaking a word. He felt like his Corey problem hurt everyone. He felt responsible for everything.
Marco leaned his hand across the table, covering Ellie's. She met his eyes for the first time that day. "You're my best friend, El."
She smiled, hoping that was a sign that everything was going to slowly go back to normal between them. She gently squeezed his hand with her own. "Love you so much, Marco."
It was such a simple statement that she'd said many times to him. They were best friends, after all, but at that moment, it meant so much more. She didn't say she was worried, or that she couldn't believe he'd let it go so far, hell she didn't even say she wanted to help. She knew that he knew she would without saying, and she would just be there for him in any way that he needed. The most important part was, he had her forgiveness for his basically abandoning her. She wouldn't hold him to that.
The two had normal conversation with each other for the rest of the period, the others not minding in the least that they were being ignored because Marco was talking again, smiling again, and he even seemed more like himself again. However, someone always had to drop a bomb.
Manny Santos, a completely unexpected girl in the school to come to him at such a time, made her way over to their lunch table, looking troubled. She took a seat next to Marco, making Ellie raise an eyebrow in his direction.
He shrugged, turning to look at the dark haired girl next to him. "Something wrong?" he asked.
"I just wanted to say that I heard about what happened, and I'm so sorry," she said sympathetically.
"What?" he asked loudly. Paige turned away from her conversation with Hazel to ask Ellie in a whispered tone what was going on. Ellie, however, didn't answer, but gestured for her to see for herself.
"Everyone has been talking about it," she said, lightly touching his shoulder. "I just wanted you to know that, even though we're not best friends, I'm here for you if you need me." She looked around at those sitting with him for a moment. "Although, you have plenty of people who I'm sure would be willing."
She got up from the table, most likely about to walk back to her own. Marco surveyed his friends carefully. "Guys…"
"None of us said anything, Marco. Really."
Marco laid his hand on his forehead, wondering who could have possibly been spreading the word about him. It wouldn't have been Corey. There was no way he'd want people to know about it.
Marco slowly arose from the table, claiming that he needed to use the bathroom. He couldn't have people staring at him. He just couldn't. It would make everything so much more painful, let alone absolutely humiliating. As if he didn't feel pathetic enough.
Author's Note: Please review, especially since I wasn't entirely sure about how this one turned out :( I need some reassurance… Anyway, I hope you liked it. I was going to post it sooner, but I lost power due to a thunder storm.