Dylan stirred. He felt warm even though he had kicked off his covers and sunlight streamed in through the window. It was hard to open his eyes, and he turned to his side to look at the clock. 10:30. His eye throbbed a bit, but he tried to ignore it, hoping that it wasn't that bad.
Slowly, he sat up in bed and pushed the hair out of his face. From downstairs he could smell the cooking of bacon and eggs. His stomach growled.
Not a moment later the usual dinner-bell rang and he stood, not bothering to change out of the shirt he'd slept in. Still tired from the night's rest, he moved down the stairs, every step heavy with sleep.
"Good morning," his mother smiled from the kitchen table. She had her phone out and was probably reading some clickbait article about something completely insignificant. "Dear God, what did you do with your eye?"
"Morning," Dylan mumbled, acting as calm as he possibly could as he grabbed a seat at the table. "I dropped a bowl on myself last night."
William hadn't come down the stairs yet, which didn't surprise Dylan considering that when he'd come home, his brother seemed to be in no rush to get to bed. Riley was probably still at Nelly's.
"Did you get home late last night?" His dad asked from behind the stove, fully occupied with getting the slices of bacon just right. Dylan hesitated.
"Not that late," he lied, "when did you go to bed?"
"We got a pretty early night last night," his mom thought out loud, "I think we were asleep at ten."
"I think I was home about eleven, maybe eleven-thirty," Dylan smiled, hoping with all that he was that they wouldn't see through the lie.
"Then you were in bed before William," his dad said, "I heard him sneaking into bed at two."
That wasn't him, Dylan thought just as William came down the stairs fully dressed.
"Good morning," he greeted and took a seat next to their mom.
"Good morning, darling," his mother smiled, "we were just talking about you. I heard that Dylan came home before you went to bed."
"Uh, yeah he did," William stretched his neck.
"Why didn't you go to bed when he got home at eleven?" She inquired. Dylan met William's eyes, pleading to him not to say any different. After a minute of silence, William spoke up.
"Well, I had some work that I wanted to finish, though I probably would have been more awake now if I had followed his example."
Dylan felt his shoulders relax a bit. That had been a close call, but William seemed to have been telling the truth about not telling which actually scored him a few points in Dylan's mind.
A shrill ringing noise came from upstairs. Dylan shot out of his seat, hurriedly walking up the stairs and into his room. He picked up the phone, not even checking the caller-ID.
"It's Dylan," he put the phone to his ear, grabbing the discarded ice pack from his desk, weighing it in his hand.
"Wow, I didn't think you'd answer this early," Felicia chuckled through the phone.
"You know that I always try to wake up before ten, right?"
"Yeah, but I figured after last night that you'd want to rest up."
Dylan smiled. He probably should have rested more, but now that he'd woken up there was no way that he would fall back asleep.
"Anyway," Felicia after a moment, "I was thinking that you could come over later today. Or we could go get a coffee at Lava?"
"Yeah, sure," Dylan answered, finally putting the ice pack away again. "Let's say at two?"
"Perfect. At Lava?"
"At Lava."
"Alright, see ya," Felicia hung up the phone and Dylan placed his phone back on the desk. Now the question was just what he would do for three hours.
He decided that reading was the best option.
"Dylan! Did you want any breakfast?" His dad called from the first floor, and he hurried back down to get something to eat.
"Who was that?" His mother asked, shooting a glance at his forehead.
"It was Felicia," Dylan took the same seat he'd had earlier, "she wanted to meet up later today."
"Oh, Felicia seems like a nice girl. Are you two together?"
"No, we're just friends, mom," Dylan sighed.
"That's too bad. Why not?" His mom pushed and took a bite of her breakfast.
"Mom," William intervened, "get off his back about it."
"But I want grandchildren!" She exclaimed with a bright smile. Their dad laughed.
"I'm just eighteen, mom," Dylan said, cutting his food and putting it in his mouth.
As soon as he was finished, he went back upstairs to change into some other clothes. He settled for a loose tee and some jeans. He then threw himself on the bed and grabbed the book on his nightstand.
At one-thirty he brushed his teeth and left the house.
__
"I wish it would stop raining," Felicia complained, taking a seat. Dylan had picked her up a few minutes earlier and they'd gone, as planned, to Café Lava Java.
"It's not raining right now," Dylan laughed as he, too, pulled out a chair.
"But it's still cloudy and sad," Felicia clarified. She'd ordered a tea while Dylan had gone for a basic latte. "I want to see the sun! At least one day."
Dylan could relate. The weather was only getting worse as winter approached and the lack of sun was making him more and more tired. This morning there had been some sun, but it had left as fast as it came and now the skies were back to a light grey color.
"Your eye looks fine, at least," she smiled and sipped her tea.
"It looks as if I've been punched in the face. I had to come up with a quick lie to mom and dad this morning."
"What did you say?" Felicia inquired.
"That I'd dropped a bowl on my face."
Felicia broke out laughing. "And they believed you?"
"I don't know, they didn't say anything about it."
"Too bad Xander was wearing a ring. If he hadn't you probably wouldn't have a wound."
"Yeah, it stings a bit."
A comfortable silence settled between the two of them. Dylan turned his head to look out the window. They'd taken their usual table and just like all the other times they'd been there, it was pretty empty in the café.
The cloudy skies, while definitely making him a bit more tired, also made the world calm down a bit. Everything went a little slower, and Dylan liked it. In the summer everything had to go too fast, but when fall and winter rolled around no one had the energy to hurry.
"I have to ask you something..." Felicia broke the silence with a small voice. Dylan met her eyes. They were soft and genuine but still made him a little tense.
"Ask away." He pushed the unease away with a smile. His friend seemed to hesitate.
"You're in love with Chris, aren't you?"
Dylan's heart stopped. Well, it didn't stop, but it sure felt like it. His breath hitched and he felt his jaw drop a bit. Maybe his heart had stopped because he felt like he was dying.
"That... that wasn't a question." Was all he got out, and Felicia smiled.
"So that's a yes?" She sipped a little more tea. Dylan didn't know what to answer. Was he? No, he wasn't, right? He'd never been in love before, how could he even know. But no, he wasn't...
His heart fluttered at the thought of Chris, though. Was that a sign? It didn't even really matter though, did it? Since Chris was definitely straight and liked girls and slept with girls and kissed and-
"Dylan? You know you can tell me anything, right?" Felicia interrupted his thoughts, her voice careful and soft.
"I don't know," he said finally. "I don't know how I feel. Not that it matters."
"Why wouldn't it matter?" Felicia asked.
"Because it just doesn't... Because he likes girls."
Felicia hummed. "And you know that for a fact?"
"Yes, everyone knows that for a fact."
"Okay, I was just not so sure. That he only likes girls, that is."
Dylan thought about what she'd just said. She wasn't so sure that he only liked girls. She was observant, and she wasn't so sure. He took a shaky breath.
"Anyway, I have been talking to Maddie a lot."
"Yeah? Weren't you going to meet up with her sometime this weekend?"
Felicia squirmed. "Um, yeah, she's actually-"
"Felicia?" A new voice said from behind him and he turned around to see a girl. Or, 'girl' was the wrong word. Woman was more fitting. She had long, dirty-blonde hair and a white blouse. She was beautiful.
"Hey, Maddie!" Felicia stood, embracing the new addition to the group. "This is my best friend Dylan."
"Hi, it's so nice to meet you, I'm Madison," Maddie smiled, reaching her hand out for him to shake.
"Hey," he returned the smile and shook her hand.
"I'm sure you've heard how we met," Maddie's face fell a bit, "but I want you to know that I didn't know and I dislike Xander at least as much as Cia does."
Felicia didn't usually like nicknames, Dylan thought. This must be different. Something about it had to be.
"I believe you," he turned to Felicia, "anyway, I should probably get going. I have some reading I want to get done before school starts again. It was really nice meeting you, Maddie. I'll see you on Monday, Cia."
Felicia shot him a short glare, which was soon replaced with a bright smile. "Yeah, bye!"
"Bye!" Maddie exclaimed as well.
__
Dylan closed the door after himself and sat down on his bed. It was only three-fifteen but he was already exhausted. He let out a heavy sigh and stood again, heading for the bathroom.
His eye was still a little swollen, but way less than the night before. Dylan carefully peeled away the band-aid. The cut wasn't big or deep, but it stung a lot. He replaced the band-aid with a new one and then returned to his room.
It was dirtier than how he liked it, but his eyes only stuck to one item.
Chris's shirt lay discarded on his bed, crumpled up. He grabbed it and brought it to his nose. He'd have to return it when school started, but first, he'd have to wash it.
He picked up his phone and searched through the contacts.
'Hey, I still have your tee shirt. I'll wash it later, when can you take it back?' He hit send. Not a minute passed before he got a response:
'We could have the session at mine on Thursday. You can bring it then?'
'Sure.' Dylan turned his phone off and threw it on the bed, followed by himself.
Looking up at the ceiling, he sighed. He'd never liked anyone. Not even had a crush. Not that he could remember at least. But the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach proved the maybe he did like someone now.
And of course, it was the worst person possible. Not that Chris was a bad person, he'd learned that that rumor was very wrong, but he... he was still Christopher Davis and that itself was... bad? Dylan didn't know what to think anymore.
His mind wandered away like so many times before. Blaire had said why he got punched, and Chris still hadn't told him his side. And being friends with Chris had status, apparently.
Dylan sat up again, looking around the room. He needed to clean it, or else he would just lay daydreaming about someone he shouldn't. After he'd cleaned, he'd wash the shirt and then he could read his book. Yes, that was a good plan.
He started by making his bed, picked up the shirts from off the floor and then went downstairs to wash the shirt. He made tea. He did some dishes. Anything to keep his mind occupied, he did, and when the sun started to set he went to bed.
And he did absolutely not dream of Chris. Not at all... maybe a little.
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