It was Sunday. Dylan was exhausted after having been the one to sleep on the pull-out couch of the run-down motel that they'd stayed at. They were just going home, the whole four-hour drive, to wash up before going out to dinner at some fancier restaurant before William was going to the airport.
He missed Chris, which was weird since they'd spent all of Thursday afternoon together. Not that long ago, right? Wrong. It was way too long ago, according to Dylan. Still, it was better to have some time away from the football player. He had to let his neck heal, after all.
"That was nice, wasn't it?" His mom smiled from the passenger seat. She looked in the rear-view mirror, sighing. "Dylan, won't you take off your jacket, you'll start to sweat."
"I am eighteen years old, mom, don't you think I can tell if I'm going to be warm by myself?"
"No, I don't think that you can," she stated matter-of-factly.
This comment made Dylan roll his eyes, unbuckling his seatbelt and shrugged off the jacket. Both William and Riley, who were sitting on each side of him, snickered. He shot them both of them a glare.
"It was nice, mom," William answered as Dylan re-buckled the seatbelt.
"That's easy for you to say," Dylan huffed, "you didn't sleep on a stiff couch."
"I offered to take it!" He exclaimed, laughing, "It's not my fault that you're so stubborn."
"No, that would be your mother's fault," their dad chuckled from the driver's seat, making all the kids either laugh or hum in agreement.
Even their mom couldn't help but smile. "I think we share that- Dylan?" She looked at him in the mirror again.
"Huh?" Dylan tried readjusting the blanked that he and Riley shared over his legs, then looked up to meet his mom's eyes.
"Is that a hickey?"
The best way to describe how Dylan felt at that moment would be to say that his life flashed before his eyes. In an instant, all eyes in the car were on him. It was only Riley's gaze that wasn't surprised. Her's was more of an 'oop, busted' kind of look.
"You've got yourself a girlfriend, Dylan?" His dad asked.
"I- uh," he stuttered, thinking quickly, "yeah."
"When are we going to meet her?" His mom exclaimed, suddenly in an outstanding mood, turning around in her seat. "What's her name?"
"Uh, I- I don't know how serious it is, so, uh, I don't know," so smooth, "hi- her name is, uh, Chris- Chrissy. Christine."
Now, William snapped his head in Dylan's direction. Damn, if this continued, everyone would know within a day. He gave William a look that screamed 'please, please don't tell', and he sighed in relief when his brother stayed quiet.
"That's a nice name," his mom smiled, sitting back down in her seat. "And she's pretty?"
Dylan smiled softly. "She's..." hot "very pretty."
"Well, she's welcome for dinner any time. Make sure to use protection, Dylan."
"Mom!" Dylan yelled out, making both William and Riley laugh aloud.
Five hours passed. The airport wasn't too crowded as the entire Brooks family arrived, William carrying the medium-sized duffle that he'd brought on one shoulder.
"Dylan," he said as they walked through the doors, "I need to talk to you."
Dylan gave him a short nod, following him over to a corner. His mom had started crying again, for the third time that day, and he was happy to avoid it.
"So... Christine?" William raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah," Dylan said, meeting his brother's gaze. The older sighed.
"Okay, I know that you're eighteen, and you have a lot of common sense and I trust you to some extent, but I just want you to be careful."
"With Christine?"
"You and I both know that it's Chris. Davis," William said, shooting a look toward his parents to make sure that they kept their distance. "I might not know a lot about that kind of thing but I won't out you. Ever. And I'm here if you need to talk. You could Skype or just facetime or-"
"Okay," Dylan interrupted, "okay, I get it, and I appreciate you trying to be better. I know that you mean it. But, just, this is something I need to figure out by myself. And I will tell them," he nodded in their parents' direction, "when I'm ready."
William smiled softly. "I know. I'm sorry I found out like this... before you're ready, but I'm proud of you. For being honest with me, for being you, nonetheless, Dyl."
That was something he hadn't known that he needed. The anxiety of not knowing how people would react was so deeply rooted and had always been there, but he'd just ignored it. But now someone was reacting in a good way. Someone that actually had come to matter.
And it felt nice. Like some of his tension loosened and disappeared. And he took a few steps forward to wrap his arms around his brother. William seemed to be a bit taken aback, but soon, he returned the hug.
"I'll be better," he said when Dylan stepped back.
"You are," Dylan smiled, and if he didn't know better, it looked like William was going to cry.
It felt weird that he would leave. They might not have hung out that much in the last four weeks, but when they had, William had actually acted like the big brother that he hadn't been earlier. Still, it would be nice to have his freedom back, even though Chris had been right about no having been William's fault.
About half an hour later, William was hugging all of them, about to leave and pass security. Their mom had started crying again.
"You have to come and visit more often William," she sniffed, clinging on to him like a monkey.
"I will, mom," William reassured, softly rubbing his mother's back, "once a year, at least."
"Good," she started letting him go, turning to instead hug her husband, "good."
It was Dylan's turn to hug, and he did it without hesitation. "Say hi to moan for me," he whispered, making William step on his shoe.
"It's Moen. Sonja," he hissed as they parted.
"I know, I know, I was just kidding," Dylan chuckled.
"I will," William said after a minute, as he was hugging Riley. Even she didn't resist the hug that she got, which Dylan saw as an immense step forward. "And I promise to call."
"You better," his dad smiled sadly.
They all watched William as he walked toward the scanning, the duffle left behind in the baggage area. This time, his mom didn't start crying, but she was hugging his dad tightly with a somber smile.
"Alright," his dad said when they couldn't see William's silhouette anymore, "let's go home."
Riley went first, hurrying to get into the car.
"Well, then," their mom said after a few minutes of riding in silence, "Dylan, why don't you tell us more about this Christine girl."
Dylan squirmed. "What do you want to know?"
"What are her interests, does she do any sports," his mom continued, "is she a cheerleader, maybe?"
"She's not a cheerleader," Dylan replied, this time paying mind to not accidentally saying 'he', "she's an artist, though she doesn't think so."
"Oh, wow," she sighed happily, "what does she look like?"
"Uh, she's got dark and these really dark brown eyes, but in the sun they turn almost golden, and she has really pretty eyelashes and just wonderful hair," Dylan smiled to himself, "and h-she's fit, but she doesn't do any sports. I think she played something when she was younger, though."
His mom smiled. "You seem pretty smitten by her, for her someone that you, and I quote, 'don't know how serious it is with.' And, I must say, it sounds suspiciously much like Felicia."
"Mom, me and Felicia are just friends!" Dylan exclaimed, to which his mom only hummed.
He looked out the window. The usage of 'she' was already tiring for him. He got an urge to yell: 'it's not a she, it's a he!' and deal with the consequences after, but it was better to just keep quiet. Until he was ready, which he wasn't yet.
Riley gave him a sympathetic smile and he sighed.
When they got home, it already felt emptier than it had been for the last four weeks. Not that William had been very loud or taken much space. Still, it was as if there was only the ghost of him left.
Okay, wow, Dylan thought, that was gloomy.
"I think I'm going to head to bed," he sighed, shrugging his jacket off, "I've got to get early tomorrow."
"You do that, sweets," his mom smiled, "goodnight."
"Goodnight." Dylan bounced up the stairs and threw himself onto his bed. A low groan escaped him as the tension from sleeping on a couch all last night. He got his phone out and searched through his contacts until he got to C and clicked on 'message'.
He had one unread message from earlier that day. It was almost nine in the night and he was tired, but he also wanted to do something. Anything.
'Did it go well today?' Chris had written at seven-thirty-two P.M.
'It did, he left at eight,' Dylan wrote back, turning on the bed to lay on his back. A bubble popped up at the corner of his screen, signifying that Chris was writing.
'How does it feel?'
'Weirder than I thought it would, to be honest. But now I can go out whenever I want.'
'Whenever you want :)'
Dylan grinned, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He swallowed his worry about how anyone would react. It didn't matter, not when they could just be together, only the two of them. People wouldn't know before they were ready.
Well, except for William and Riley, he thought as he heard Riley say something downstairs. They were both very observant, he realized. Or maybe he just wasn't that discrete, which was more likely.
'Hey, there's a party the first weekend in December, do you wanna go?' Chris wrote after a few minutes. 'It's at Tyler's, for his birthday'
Dylan smiled. 'Sure, I'll be there.'
'You can invite Felicia and the boys if you want to, too.'
'I'm sure they would also love to go.' Dylan replied, then continued with: 'But I really need some sleep now, I'll see you tomorrow.'
'See you tomorrow, goodnight.'
Dylan turned his phone off, a smile lingering on his lips. He undressed and got into the bed again, sighing heavily. Then, he got his phone out again.
He got to Felicia in his contacts and wrote a quick: 'Hey, this is very random and all, but, like, I'm pretty sure my mom thinks that I'm dating you now, so that's neat.'
He put his phone back on the nightstand and turned on the bed, tossing slightly before finding the perfect sleeping position.
__
"What the hell do you mean 'my mom thinks we're dating', what the hell did you say to her?" Felicia laughed as she got into the car on Monday morning, throwing her bag into the back of the car.
"I'm sorry, it's not my fault," Dylan shot back, "she saw my marks," he gestured toward his neck, "and they all started asking about a girls so I said yes and then she was asking what 'she' looked like so I said that 'she' had dark hair and dark eyes and she just assumed it was you!"
Felicia laughed heartily. "What the fuck, Dylan, I have a girlfriend."
"And I have a boyfrien-" Dylan stopped. "I mean, I'm going out with Chris, but I can't control what mom thinks."
Felicia smiled softly. "Yeah, I get it. As long as we know it isn't true."
"And we do," Dylan chuckled as he started driving. "Did you finish the English homework that's due today?"
"I did, for once in my life," Felicia grinned.
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