Over the following weeks, he and Chris developed a strange sort of friendship. Strange, in this case, was unforeseen, but not unwelcome. He'd both been right and wrong about how their relationship would turn out because while they started to get along better and better, they also didn't see eye to eye on a lot of different subjects.
It was the last week before Halloween break and the weather was dark and wet. The science project had been turned in by both Chris and Dylan, and Ms. Baker had told the class that they'd get it back after the break.
"I do not have bad taste in music," Dylan argued. The two of them were sitting in a desolate corner of the library where they had planned on studying but were now quarreling about tastes in music. "He is good!"
"What he is, is too mainstream!" Chris countered, "He was the most popular one of the band and now everyone likes him for-"
"Well, he was most popular because he was the best of them!"
"Okay," Chris sighed with a grin on his lips. "Anyway, I gotta leave now, I have a... thing." Dylan nodded.
"Yeah, me too." They started to collect the various discarded notebooks and printed pages. Dylan closed his book bag and threw it over his shoulder, and Chris put on the leather jacket that he always wore, even in the late-October chill. "Alright, well, I'll see you,"
"Yeah," Chris gave him the usual half-smirk.
They parted and Dylan walked over to his car. As he got into it, his phone lit up, signifying that he'd gotten a text. He picked up the phone to look at the screen, seeing that it was from his mom.
'Hey, honey, I was just wondering when you'd get home tonight. There's a little surprise! Love, momma bear <3'
Dylan frowned. It wasn't anything special about the day, so why would there be a surprise. He sent a short text back, explaining that he was on his way home now, and then pulled out of the parking lot. He put on some music, the kind that Chris, apparently, didn't like. As opposed to Dylan who did. He tapped the wheel lightly in unison with the music.
Soon, he was full out singing along at the top of his lungs, not caring if someone outside might hear him. Not that there were a lot of people outside on a day like this; the October weather had only brought more cloudy skies and rain.
He drove up to his driveway not long after, parking the car next to his parents' and getting out of the car. There were balloons lining the pathway to the house, which made Dylan frown. What was going on? He made his way towards the house, slowly opening the door and peeking his head inside.
"Hello? He called out, closing the door behind himself.
"Dylan!" His mother exclaimed, coming out into the hall from the kitchen.
"What's going on?" He hung his jacket on a hook and walked over to the kitchen where both his dad and Riley stood leaning on the kitchen island.
"We're going to have a dinner guest." His dad said, a mysterious smile making its way onto his lips.
As if on cue, the front door opened. Dylan took a few steps back, out of the kitchen, then stopped.
"Surprise!"
"William?" Dylan was shocked, to say the least. He stared.
"What? Not happy to see your big bro?" William chuckled, dropping the duffle bag he'd been holding to the ground.
"No, I just... Thought you were in Norway." Dylan took a few steps closer, wrapping an arm around the older as Riley also came out into the hallway.
"Not anymore," William smiled, then turned to Riley, "Wow, you have grown so much!" He embraced her, letting his head rest on top of hers.
"Yeah, well three years does that to you," Riley shrugged, backing out of her brother's embrace.
"Hey, don't be like that," their dad lectured, but William shook his head.
"No, it's fine, she's right," he scratched his neck, "it was kind of an asshole move to just leave. She has the right to be a little bitter."
Dylan had been quiet for a while, standing back a bit while the rest of his family greeted his brother. They hadn't had an ideal relationship before William left for Norway, and it put Dylan in a state of unease. William was only three years older, and they had gone to the same high school for one year before William graduated, but they had been polar opposites. It had taken Dylan two years to convince the teachers that that was the case.
"Alright, let's eat!" His mother exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I've made your favorite, taco chicken." She smiled brightly at William, who returned a slightly stale smile. Riley and their parents led the way to the dinner table, William slowing down before going into the dining hall.
"Hey," he grabbed Dylan's shoulder lightly, "I gotta talk to you. Later, okay?"
Dylan frowned. "Okay?"
"Okay." With that, William turned on his heel and followed the others into the dining hall. Dylan stayed a moment longer where he stood before following suit. By then, his mom had already plated all of the food, and Dylan took his usual spot.
"Okay, so I was thinking that we could toast to William for coming to visit," his dad smiled, popping out a bottle of champagne open.
"That's really not necessary-" William tried to intervene, but his mom shushed him.
"Nonsense, of course, we'll toast to you, this is a celebration!"
"Of what, exactly?" Riley frowned. "Why is this such a big thing?"
"Because have missed William, haven't we?" Their dad shot Riley a stern glare, trying to get her to cheer up but not really succeeding.
"Mom, dad," William sighed, "they have the right to be angry with me, and I want to apologize for leaving properly, but they need to know that I am not going to leave like that again. I have changed since then."
Dylan looked down at his food. This had turned awkward real quick. There was an uneasy silence that wasn't broken until their mom decided to speak up.
"Anyway, we forgive you for that, dear," she smiled and poured a drink to her and their dad, then William.
"So, why did you come here to visit?" Riley asked, cutting up her chicken.
"Well, I was talking about how I left with one of my close friends, and she told me that it was really shitty of me," William explained, and Dylan nodded to himself, "so I asked her what she thought I should do, and she said to visit. So, here I am."
"We are glad to have you here," his mother smiled, "I have made your old bed and dusted the room."
"Mom, I'm twenty-one, I can make my own bed," he sighed, "but thank you."
__
The dinner went on for longer than Dylan had hoped. His parents just came up with more and more questions, and despite William having said that he had changed, his presence brought back some.... less than pleasant memories.
Freshman year was not a good year, and that was mostly because of his brother. William had been a football player and a prime example of an entitled prince, not caring about the rules, neither at school nor at home. He had been a bully, too, but mostly to Dylan and his interest in science. It hadn't mattered to William that Dylan had also been interested in soccer and sports, he just cared that he had a nerd brother.
"Hey, can we talk now?" William brought Dylan back to reality. They were standing in the living room, neither of them able to completely relax. "We could go to my room?"
"Sure." Dylan shrugged, still unsure about why they had to talk in private, but not really caring at the same time. William took the lead, going up the stairs in large steps. Dylan followed, though not as quickly as old memories bubbled up.
When they got to William's room, the older closed the door behind them. Dylan walked over to the window, stopping there and standing a little awkwardly, shifting his weight every so often.
"What did you want to talk about?" He inquired, an unwanted uncertainty settling in his mind and making its way out with his words. William sat down on his old bed sighing heavily. He seemed to be as unsure as Dylan, the younger realized as he observed his brother picking at the bedspread.
"I feel like I have to explain myself, and truly apologize," William looked up from the bed, eyes catching Dylan's, "And I don't expect you to forgive me, I know that I was a real ass-"
"That was an understatement." Dylan snapped, a grimace making its way onto his face. Talking to his brother made him tired but under the tiredness, a red hot fire had started burning. Did he really think that he could come back, after three years, and just be forgiven? No, the reasonable side of him said, he just said that he didn't expect that. But he still had some nerve coming back and- and just entering as if nothing had happened.
"I know and I just want to-"
"You think you come back here, just like that, and- and what? Be welcomed with open arms?" Dylan seethed, the surprise on William's face giving him incredible satisfaction, "You made my life a living hell, and Riley? She had to watch it. She was only eleven! Mom and dad never believed me, never her either, and you just strutted about as if you'd done nothing wrong."
"Even when I had purple bruises after your kicking or punching, they just told me not to blame you, even though I was telling the truth." Dylan let out a breath that he'd been holding, letting his head drop to the wall with a thud. He didn't want to look in William's eyes.
"I-" The older swallowed, "I'm going to make it up to you-"
"You are going to make it up to Riley." Dylan finished with a stern look.
"I'm going to make it up to all of you, to mom and dad, to you, and her. I'm staying for a month and I just want to redeem myself. I get it if it's going to take more time, and I will be coming to visit more, maybe once a year, but I am studying right now so there's not that much time to spare."
"I wish I could say that I came here on my own accord, I mean, on some level I did, but I had to have a talk with someone else to realize it. And I realize that it's hard to believe me when I say that I have changed- that's why I'm staying for so long; to prove it, too- but I would just want you to hear me out."
Dylan hesitated. There was a question in William's words, and while it made him a little nauseous, he wanted to hear it all.
"Okay," Dylan answered. "I will hear you out." It seemed a weight had been lifted from his brother's shoulders as the older let out a relieved sigh, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Okay," William repeated.
"But we've got to do it some other time," Dylan sighed, "I'm tired, William, I've had a tutor session today and I have school tomorrow and have to get up early. This feels like a topic that would need more than thirty minutes to discuss." William nodded in understanding.
"Yeah, okay," he sighed for what must have been the hundredth time, "Goodnight."
"Night," Dylan left the room and closed the door behind himself.
With a racing mind, he got into bed, setting his alarm for six-thirty. William seemed to be sincere, but still, the images of purple bruises over his ribs plagued his head. Then there was the question of who this mystery friend of William's was. Dylan wasn't dense; it had taken him two seconds to realize that the friend had to be something special if she'd been able to convince his stubborn brother to come back to the states.
///