Author's Note: Some people are freaking out that they 'missed' how Manny found out. Don't worry; no one knows yet. You'll find out…but not in this chapter. By the way, I finished this HOURS ago, but the site wouldn't let me submit it. I was so upset :(

Marco didn't know what to do. As he walked the halls to find a bathroom, he couldn't help but feel everyone was staring at him. It was an irrational fear because no one really was, and when Manny had said it was going around, Marco wasn't sure to whom it was going around. How was it going around?

Where was Corey? Who had done this to him? Marco felt sick when he finally walked into the boys' bathroom.

He looked at himself in the mirror, having covered up all of the scars, bruises, and cuts, he looked absolutely fine, but for the first time, he felt that his friends could see beyond the cover-up. He felt that strangers could see the damage done, and they were not so secretly laughing at his pain, his misfortune, but most of all, his own stupidity and weakness.

He rinsed his hands in the sink, remembering not to splash his face with the cold water. Dylan told him that things would get better after he got rid of Corey, but they only seemed to be getting worse.

After his attempt to calm himself, he walked out of the bathroom, heading back to the cafeteria. Again, he walked through the hallway of doom, where he could feel the eyes on his back. Did he even know these people?

Marco could see Paige making her way out of the cafeteria just before he got in. "Paige, what's up?" he asked, confused.

"Dylan's on the phone…he called me to speak to you," she said, handing her cell phone to him. "I'm on the case about Manny, by the way. Don't fret."

Marco nodded, following her inside. "Hello," he said cautiously. Was Dylan angry with him?

"I'm sorry," said Dylan immediately. "I understand that you want to be treated independently, and I'll respect that."

Marco couldn't believe this. Dylan was treating him so much better than he deserved, and yet, he was apologizing for it. "No, I'm sorry," said Marco. "I just don't want to be helped anymore."

Marco walked over to the windowsill, ignoring all the strange looks he was getting from students that showed how much they 'cared.' "You went to class, right?" he asked, a small smile creeping its way onto his face.

"Yes, I did," he said proudly. "I have to go to another one, but I was thinking…"

"Yes?" Marco asked, turning around to face the window instead of the curious stares.

"Okay, the place where I got my phone is really close, and I hate calling you on my sister's phone, and I'm sure it'd be much easier on everyone if I just picked you up another," said Dylan. Marco could hear in his voice that he was shrugging nonchalantly when, in actuality, it was a pretty big deal for Marco.

"Absolutely not. A few days without a phone for me will be all right," said Marco, unsure if he enjoyed Dylan's attention or not. "You're not spending a dime on me."

"But—"

"We have something more important to talk about," Marco began. "Dylan, everyone knows," he said, frustrated and hurt. "How do they all know?"

Dylan was, to say the least, angry. He hated to know that Marco was so pained by the whole matter, and he just wanted to help. How the hell did the world find out?

"I don't know," said Dylan. "Look, I have to go, but when you get home, call me."

Marco sighed. He didn't want Dylan to get off. He wanted to feel protected. One second, freedom and independence was his priority, and the second later, he wanted Dylan to just tell him he was there for him, to tell him everything would be okay, to tell him that he was going to make sure he never had to see Corey again.

"O—okay, if you must," he said sadly, obviously not trying to conceal the pain in his voice. "Don't get me a phone," he reminded him.

Dylan rolled his eyes. "I'll try."

"Dylan!" Marco exclaimed, laughing.

Dylan remembered this. Instant flashbacks came to mind from before Corey, when Dylan and Marco would speak on the phone at least ten times a week…before Dylan graduated, and before Marco really knew who Corey was.

"Sure," said Marco. "Sure, and then you're going to become a big hockey star, leaving all us little people behind," he teased.

"Speak for yourself," said Dylan, stretching out comfortably on his bed, "you're the only person I know below three feet."1

Marco was highly affronted by the statement. "Three? Dylan, that's horrible. Besides, I may not have height, but I got other things going on for me," he said. It wasn't until he said it that he realized it probably sounded weird to Dylan.

"Such as…how cute you are?" asked Dylan, clearly flirting shamelessly with the younger boy.

Marco blushed, glad that he couldn't see him through the phone. "I was talking about how I have a brain, and you don't, but that works too."

"Now that was mean," said Dylan, not sounding the least bit offended. "You're a cold man. So, I can't believe that I only have three more weeks until graduation," he said excitedly.

Marco tried to sound happy for him as well, pushing a particularly long piece of hair behind his ear. "I know," said Marco. "University of Toronto, right?"

"Yeah," said Dylan, realizing, for the first moment, that it might not be as easy for them to talk anymore, and they would no longer see each other everyday. "I'm—I'm going to miss you," he said quietly.

"Yeah, me too," said Marco. "But I'll call you all of the time, and we can still hang out."

Dylan smiled. "Of course, silly. You're pretty much my best friend."

Dylan didn't stutter a bit saying it, of course, but he really did wish they could be more. He'd considered asking the younger boy out quite a few times, but nothing about it seemed right. Besides, Dylan was sure Marco was still trying to deny who he was to himself and everyone around him. He wasn't ready for a boyfriend. Dylan sighed. Would it ever happen?

"And I'll help you move if you want," Marco added. "Hold on, I'm being called from the other room," he said, putting the phone down on his pillow.

Dylan was going to do it. When Marco returned, he was going to officially ask him out on a date, and maybe he actually was ready. Dylan was just underestimating him.

"Back, sorry," said Marco, breathing heavily. He'd obviously run to get back to their conversation. "Dylan?"

"Hey," he said. "Marco…"

"Yes…? said Marco, raising an eyebrow.

"I'd love it if you helped me move," said Dylan. He chickened out.

"Oh…well, yeah, I'd love to."

Dylan hadn't asked him out that night, and Marco didn't help Dylan move. They also didn't call each other or spend time together as Marco had promised they would; Marco didn't know Corey was going to come into the picture, after all. He didn't know that he'd be forced to spend time with one person and that one person only.

"So, yeah, I have to go," said Dylan again, coming back to the current phone conversation.

"Right," said Marco. "Bye, Dylan."

"Bye."

Marco walked back over to his table, hiding his face behind his hands. Didn't the other students have anything more important to stare at?

"Did you hear about him? That's Marco Del Rossi," said a pretty brunette girl to her friend quite literally behind Marco's back. "He—"

"Excuse me?" said Marco, irritated, turning around. "Would you care to tell me this wonderful story?"

The two girls, obviously embarrassed about being caught, scurried away down a different hallway, not answering Marco's question. He shrugged, walking to his locker. He'd made it through the day. He was used to rumors, anyway, but it hurt terribly when a person was right behind him, talking to her friend about it as though he would be just fine with that.

He opened his locker numbly, grabbing the books he needed, and shoving them despairingly into his bag. He often went through changes based on Corey. Sometimes, he was angry with him (like at the current moment because he didn't know who to blame for people finding out). Sometimes, he was upset because they simply couldn't work things out, and Marco did really want to be with him.

Sometimes, he was happy. It was all over with. Granted, this thought didn't come around very often in the amount of time he'd been done with Corey. Nonetheless, it still came sometimes, the happy, free feeling. However, that's when he'd feel suffocated again by people trying to protect him from this new freedom.

He didn't know how he felt because he didn't even know what he wanted.

"Hey, Marco," said Ellie, coming up behind him. "You're going to ride the bus with me, okay?" she said quietly, looking down. Marco could tell that she knew his feelings very well about the constant protection, and she tried to do it inconspicuously.

He threw his bag over his shoulder. "Okay," he said, trying to sound perfectly fine with it.

When Marco got in the house, he immediately picked up his phone, glad to see that neither one of his parents were home yet. He wondered, while Dylan's phone was ringing, if his mother had talked with his father about Corey. A part of him hoped so; that way, he wouldn't have to explain it, but a part of him wanted to be the one who told him. Either way, they were going to have to have a talk.

"Marco," said Dylan.

"It is," said Marco, though he knew Dylan wasn't asking. They barely ever said a proper 'hello'.

"Don't kill me," said Dylan. Marco could just imagine what he was doing, biting his lip cutely before he released the blow. What he did.

Marco knew him oh-so scarily well. "You bought me a cell phone, didn't you?" And Marco was probably the only boy who would be unhappy with such a gesture.

"Yeah, I did," said Dylan, "and I'm not very sorry," he added stubbornly. Marco was sure his arms were crossed over his chest.

"What can I do? Ask you to take it back?" he sighed. "Well, I do have to thank you. Even though I didn't want it, it's sweet."

"I like when you say I'm sweet…" Dylan had obviously been expecting Marco to yell and scream, and then force him to take it back.

There were four days, sixteen hours, and twenty-six minutes left until Dylan graduated. Marco honestly couldn't believe it.

"Don't kill me," said Dylan. When their conversation started out like that, it could never be a good thing.

"What'd you do?" Marco asked cautiously, doubting whether he really wanted to know.

"Umm…" Dylan started, "I kind of told Paige that you uh…liked that boy, Corey, was it?"

"Paige! Dylan, why did you tell her?" he asked, groaning. "And I don't know if I really like him…I just—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I figure…I want you to be happy, so just try to ask him out or something," said Dylan. He couldn't believe these words were coming out of his Marco-loving mouth. "He'd be crazy not to like you."

Marco smiled. "You're sweet," he said, making Dylan smile. He could always get himself out of trouble with a line like that. Besides, Marco was prone to let anything he said slide because he was so worried about his leaving him after graduation. Dylan wasn't so sure he was happy with him getting a boyfriend, though.

"Dyl?" said Marco, breaking Dylan out of his reverie, walking down memory lane for a bit.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks…just," he didn't know what to say. Things were far from perfect, and he was still slightly scared of what was to come, but he knew Dylan would be there for him. "Just…" he repeated, "thanks."

Author's Note: Please review :) I'm going on, like, a two-three day trip starting Tuesday, but it'll be short, and I promise I'll still be writing chapters for all of my stories, including this one. Fear not.