His first friend, maybe his only friend, was Ali Stevenson. Besides maybe Wyatt, whom they only had lunch with and hung out with on there weekly DND game nights. Wyatt was a pretty sick and awesome story teller. Dylan didn't know where he came up with this stuff. Dylan had asked him.

"I'm just a natural story teller, I guess. My mom always said I have an over active imagination. There are worst things to be, I guess."

This nights DND gaming session was canceled, however.

Dylan wasn't much for the party scene. That was a recent development. When he was invited to Amber Abernathy's party (the most popular girl in school) and heard that the person he had a crush on was going to be there, he had to take his shot.

He's running out of her house a half our later. Stopping on the curb, next to the park down the street. Ali holds his hair back so that he doesn't get vomit in it. She had this sweetness and innocence, and sometimes not so innocent humor and quite sassy when she wanted to be. She was a good friend, and always had stood up for him. And was by his side. Like now.

She was the first one to know that he was possibly gay. She had actually had a crush on him last year and had kissed him at a Halloween party. It was a bit embarrassing actually. It might have been his fault, sending her the wrong signal, when he had asked her if she was going as a 'hot' Hermione. Which ended up being her custom. She had the naturally unruly curly bushy hair for it anyway.

He tensed up, not expecting it when she had planted a kiss full on the lips. He'd say it had been more embarrassing for her.

"Oh my gosh, Dylan...I'm sorry." She had never really realized until now that she had never seen him interested in girls or talk about girls. "That was stupid. Are you...?"

He had shrugged "I don't know. Maybe. I'm still questioning it."

She seemed a little devastated. But she had been accepting. "Alright. That's cool. " She leaned back on her elbows on the bed."That explains why you oogle the swim team when they come out of the locker room."

"I do not oogle. That is so beneath me." It's not my fault that spandex they use is tight fitting. It's hard not to look. Especially at Matt...He'd occasionally smile at Dylan or his eyes would light up when he saw him. Or was Dylan looking way too much into it? He was a jock and he was an outsider. It would never work anyway. Even if Matt was into guys. Matt was friends with Wyatt's brother Ronnie, (also a big time jock and a massive bully, only he didn't mess with Dylan because he was friends with Wyatt) and that's how they knew each other. They'd sometimes be at Wyatt's house on their game nights, but didn't end up staying long, in search for booze and chicks, not wanting to hang with the 'loser's club."

He thought girls were OK. He didn't think girls were icky. Maybe only Ali. That was because he thought of her as a sister. They practically had known each other since they were in diapers, when she and her family had moved down the street from him.

"Look, whatever you decide, I'm here for you."

She was here with him now, when Amber decided to out him in front of everyone and he got totally shit-faced and ran from the party.

How can you not hate but love someone who sticks by you in your worst moments?

"You won't love me after this." He said.

"Huh?"

"There's no way you love me after this."

"I mean it's mostly me who loves you, anyway."

He laughs between heaves.

"Just breath Dylan." She soothes him by rubbing his back. "Hey, Amber Abernathy is a sack of sick. Her handle is Amber Ambernathy. What kind of name is that anyway. It should be illegal. Anyway, that's not why you left the party."

"It's not?"

"No. It's the same reason you drank three vodka tonics. You got shitfaced and ran because of what Amber said about your sister." That was part of it.

He had finally kissed Matt. What was supposed to be a private intimate moment, was put out on full display in front of the whole party. It was mostly meant with cheers and applause, and a bit of awkward silence.

Amber basked in her accomplishment. "I fucking knew it."

"What the fuck, man." Dylan pushed Matt away from him.

"Dude..." Matt tried to grab his arm as pulled away and left the room. "Dylan...wait."

"Fuck off." He made a beeline for the kitchen. Pouring himself three shots, after doing a line.

He could still hear Amber.

"About fucking time! Getting those two to make a move. It's like those will they won't they mellow drama's. It was a nightmare to put together but it worked out. Life is so perfect isn't it? No where near perfect as mine, of course."

"Didn't your mom cheat on your dad?" One of the female party goers asked. Maybe one of Amber's she-bitches.

"Yeah. They nearly split up. But maybe in a way it was what they needed. It made them realize how much they loved each other. love can cure anything, even a broken heart. "

That wasn't true. Love can't cure a broken heart. He watched his mother struggle to provide and take care of him and Izzy, (even if he was doing his fair share of looking after Izzy, like the amazing big brother that he was) no matter how much she loved them.

and sometimes there's things that can't. " He could sense her eyes on him. Even though he was high right now, he knew she was talking about him.

"You know his dad left last year, can't say I don't blame him but that kid is going to be so messed up. And now this. She's so sheltered she probably thinks gay just means happy. He probably left because he knows his son's a freak. Not because he's gay, I got him to finally make out with Matt, he's obviously had a hard on for him." Was she still talking about him or Matt? He didn't care. "..if he didn't want to be outed, it's his fault not mine. It's the 21st century. Still doesn't mean he's not a freak. He's always creeped me out. I guess that's why people do charity."

"To help the less fortunate?"

"No. To feel better about themselves." Which she defiantly did.

"The whole school will know by tomorrow."Her friend sounded worried.

"So?"

"What will his mother think, isn't she like supper religious or something? She'll probably think he's going to hell."

"Not my problem."

His mother. He didn't care what she would think, but what she would say. She didn't deserve this. A failure of a son. His dad leaving, giving an excuse as to why, a poor one at that. Was there ever a better one?

"it's like Prague." (Imagine Devon Sawa, playing Dylan's father. That voice!)

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Sometimes you got to go see the world. Explore other options."

"You want to go to Prague?"

"It's a metaphor, Dylan."

"So you're bored with us." It was an accusation, not a question.

"Your mother and I don't see eye to eye. We haven't for a long time."

"You expect me to believe that. That, that's it. It's not the real reason is it?"

"Sometimes there is no reason."

Dylan leaned back in his ancient, creaky gaming chair. He really needed to get a new one. He started up at his ceiling, still plastered with a few glow in the dark stars (most had lost their stickiness and had fallen off) that he and Ali had placed there. A life time ago.

"Dylan, say something. What are you thinking about?"

"Tectonic plates and the formation of the earth."

"What does that mean?"

"There's a reason for everything."

He had made him promise, to Dylan's reluctance and agreed he wouldn't tell his mother or Izzy why he was leaving. He discovered the real reason by accident. Weird old people having an insta. His father was following HER. A woman half his age. Some yoga instructor. He hadn't had the heart to tell his mother but she found out anyway.

Then his mother found out she was sick. And apparently his father knew already, and he didn't even know they were still talking. Ever since his dad had left, when he had started to make more money, and left them for another woman, and her annoying miniature poodle, his world had been falling apart. Love couldn't cure his mother. This would break her heart.

His own heart started beating fast in his chest, and he started to sweat. It felt like the walls he had built around himself was crumbling, it's very foundation. or maybe it was the three drinks he had downed. His eyes darted around as he tried to find his best friend. He couldn't see her in the crowd. That was good.

He didn't want Ali to see him like this. So he ran.

She spotted him anyway and chased him down the street.

"I feel like someone kicked my balls into my throat."

"I find your biologically impossible metaphor slightly amusing."

He groaned. "I hate metaphor's."

"Uh, you just made one."

"Ever been to Prague?"

"Huh?" She made that confused look again.

"I think you and I should really go sometime..." He trailed off. He saw a crow, or was it a raven, looking directly at him. It felt like it was staring through to his soul. "Have you seen something like that?"

"A bird?"

"No. Like it's staring at me. Trying to figure me out or something. Did you know that some guy in the 1800's thought instead of migrating south for the winter, he thought birds migrated to the moon."

"The moon, really?"

He was sure to see the irony of this situation a year from now. The connection to ravens and the moon.

"You sure are a chatty drunk." She fell silent for a moment."I'm really concerned about you, Dylan."

He wanted to tell her that she should be.

"Come on, let's get you home." She got up and brushed the dirt and twigs from her leggins, then helped him up.