Dylan frowned.
"What do you mean, 'you didn't see wrong'? Of course, I didn't see wrong. It wasn't like it was hard to see them standing together in the corner, whispering with him hovering over her while she laughed." He swallowed a sudden rush of annoyance. "They were inches apart, Felicia, it was clear what was going on."
"Who was the cheerleader? Was it Megan?" Felicia continued her pursuit of whatever she wanted to get out of grilling him about this, and it hurt that she didn't believe him.
"Yeah, it was Megan, how did you know that?"
"Lucky guess," she brushed it off and continued, "are you sure that you're right?"
"Yes, Felicia, I am sure! And yeah, we all knew that he had a reputation when this all started but I just- I didn't think he'd go back to that so soon, and just over a singular argument. Why do you question this?"
"Dylan, I question this because I think you're in the wrong-" she put a hand up to stop any protest that Dylan had planned, "- and hear me out when I tell you why."
The soccer player knitted his brows together in both confusion and worry, but he kept quiet, gesturing for her to continue. Had he been wrong? No, he knew what he'd seen.
"You say that he was standing with Megan, but he came to me, asking me to take care of her 'cuz she'd been bugging him while he was looking for you. And that couldn't have been more than ten minutes after he'd arrived, so I think it's unreasonable for him to have both had time to search for you and met her and talked that intimately."
"Yeah, but-"
"Let me finish-"
"No, you need to know this, too, if you want the whole story. He did see me, Felicia. While the two of them were walking toward the kitchen our eyes met and he didn't- he didn't look as though the sight of me was what he was looking for. He looked as though he was on the way to get laid."
"But he dropped her off with me in the kitchen. And besides, don't you think that there's a possibility that he didn't have time to actually notice who it was through the crowd?"
Dylan huffed, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that screamed at him that maybe Felicia was right and that he had been wrong. "Even so, he didn't seem very keen on even looking at me at lunch, especially today. He looked at me as if I meant nothing to him. As if we hadn't been everything just a few weeks ago. That must mean that I never meant that much to him," he argued, a pang of heartache shooting through his entire being, making tears form behind his eyes.
Felicia hummed thoughtfully, sipping her coffee. "Well, what did you say to him when he came to your house?"
Dylan squirmed. He'd definitely said some stuff that he regretted to some extent, but Chris hadn't seemed to understand that he didn't want him there, so it had been necessary.
"I don't know, just that I wanted him to leave, that I'd seen him and her... I may have brought up something about his reputation and, yeah."
"And you don't think that he might have looked at you like that because what you said hurt him? He seems like the kind of person who gets cold when they're hurt, and that's what I think is going on right now."
"You really think that I'm wrong?" Dylan asked, his voice gentler now, his mind racing at three hundred miles an hour. If he had been wrong then he'd been a huge douche. The image of Chris's face when he'd been told to leave flashed in Dylan's mind, making him cringe. Had he been the one to hurt, and not the one to have been hurt? Was there still a chance for them, in that case? Or had he ruined the first real thing that he'd actually liked.
"I'm sorry, Dylan, but yeah." Felicia looked at him, her eyes filled with sympathy.
"I need to talk to him," he uttered, moving to get his phone out, but Felicia's hand stopped him.
"Maybe you should do it face to face?" She suggested softly, a smile on her lips.
"God, I've been dumb, haven't I. I should have heard him out. I-"
"Hey, we all make mistakes, Dyl, you're not alone about that."
He gave her a weak smile and took a slow sip of his coffee. He'd talk to him tomorrow, then. That was the plan. It was going to be alright.
__
Finally, the bell rang and Dylan collected his things as quickly as he possibly could. Felicia was already waiting at the lockers when he got there and he hurried to leave all of his books.
"I saw Chris standing by the gym entrance, so if you want to catch him before he goes into the cafeteria," she said, watching him close the locker. He nodded in response.
"I need to talk to him-"
"Dyl, I know, now go!" Felicia barked, and Dylan did go. He hurried down the endless corridors all the way to the other side of the school. Just like she'd said, he stood there, surrounded by some football players and cheerleaders, one of which was staring intently at Chris while twirling her hair around her finger. He bit his lip and swallowed his pride.
"and so- Dylan, hey!" Francis greeted as he walked up to the group. Most of them gave him some sort of nod or short 'hey', but Chris remained quiet, his gaze stone-cold and jaw shut tight. "What's up, you seem stressed?"
"Yeah, no, it's nothing, I just have to borrow Chris for a minute," Chris raised an eyebrow but didn't react more than that, "it's a history thing."
"Yeah, sure, he's all yours," Francis said with a smile, to which Dylan responded with a nod. Chris didn't seem to mind, but then again, Dylan had no idea what was going on inside his head.
"Alright," the raven-haired football player shrugged, his voice void of any emotion. Well, maybe ha sounded a little tired, but nothing else.
"Alright, we'll go eat lunch, come sit with us when you are done," Tyler smiled and the rest of the group slowly made their way away, toward the cafeteria. For a long, drawn-out moment, neither boy said anything.
Then, Chris sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do you want, Dylan. You said you wanted me to leave, to give you space, and I did. So why are you here?"
"I-" Dylan started, sudden insecurity washing over him like a tsunami, "I talked to Felicia about... about what happened between us."
"So?"
"I'm sorry I didn't believe you, Chris," he continued, his lip already trembling a bit, "I shouldn't have said those things when you came by, and- and I was wrong to assume and wrong to go against what I knew about you just because some ass from your old school put doubt in my head and-"
"But that's the thing, isn't it, Dylan," Chris interrupted, his voice steady and hard, "even if- even if I wanted to try again, it's not exactly reassuring that it took that little for you to believe all the rumors over me. You said it yourself! I have a reputation, and I get why you thought me and Megan were... but it hurt when you chose it over me, Ian over me. I-" he looked away, laughing dryly, "I thought I was more to you."
"You are more to me! You are everything," Dylan pleaded, his eyebrows knitted tight together, "I made a mistake."
Chris scoffed- a scoff that in a split second cut through all of Dylan's hope. "Whatever, it doesn't even matter because I'm tired of hiding who I'm with. If I'm going to date someone, I'm not going to date someone who's scared of being seen with me, neither because of a dumb reputation nor because they're scared of being themselves."
"You want to come out?" Dylan asked, frowning. He wanted to come out, and be proud. Out to the school, and be able to hold hands in the corridor. Just the thought of it made Dylan's heart beat faster, but mostly out of fear. How would people react to that? Would he be harassed? He'd read a lot of articles in the last few months about same-sex couples being shamed.
But he'd have Chris, then. If he took the leap, took the risk, they'd be together. Or, that was a maybe, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about coming out anymore. And he'd know who his true friends were, which would be good. And if he got Chris while doing it, that would be the best thing ever.
In his mind, images of all the moments he and the other had shared flashed by. It was a hurricane of happy memories, and... for the first time in a while he felt certain of something. He met Chris's eyes again, finding them already looking at him with a set intention.
"Yeah, yeah, I do," the football player's voice softened a tiny bit, "and even if you hadn't hurt me, I would never ask you to do that before you're ready. So, I ask you this now: leave me be. It hurts to see you around more than you know. More than I let on, so please-"
"-I'd do it," Dylan cut in, his voice steadier.
"You'd do what?"
"For you, I'd come out. I would be ready-" he lowered his voice so that it was barely above a whisper,"- for you."
Finally, Chris's facial expression changed. Going from basically emotionless and indifferent, shock flashed in his eyes and his jaw dropped a tiny- while it was barely noticeable, but Dylan saw. He'd spent countless hours with the football player and he knew when something changed.
"Dylan- I need to go," Chris uttered, making Dylan frown.
"Chris-"
"No, just- just do what I did for you," the taller said, starting to walk down the corridor, "give me some time."
And just like that, he was gone and Dylan was left standing alone in an empty corridor. His heart was beating out of his chest and he took a breath before hurrying down the other way, aiming for the bathrooms.
Lucky for him, it was empty, and he stood in front of the mirror for a solid minute before moving again. He turned on the tap, even the small movement feeling exhausting. His arms were heavy, and knees barely holding out. He'd done what he planned and now he felt even more unsure of himself. Chris hadn't responded. He bit back a sound coming from low in his throat and tried to calm his adrenaline-filled body by splashing some water in his face.
He'd confessed, at least. And at least he'd been honest, and- fuck at least. What was he going to do now? Nothing had gotten better. Everything had stayed the same. Still, his shoulders felt lighter, but that wasn't what Dylan was focusing on.
He was focusing on the ache in his chest. He'd been pathetic, basically begging for forgiveness, but now it was done and he'd wait which was worse than anything else. He'd never been known for his patience, after all.
'Chris is here in the cafeteria now, where are you?' Felicia had sent only a minute ago, and Dylan quickly responded.
'I'll be there in a minute.'
'Did it go well?'
'I... don't know.'
'What did you say?' She replied, and Dylan slumped against one of the stall doors.
'I said I was sorry... and I don't know, that he's everything to me.'
'Oh my god, Dylan, what did he reply?'
'That I should give him time, which is fair. I will give him all the time he needs and wish for the best.'
It took a minute for her to reply, but when she did the text said: 'I'm sure it will be alright, he'll come around. Everyone makes mistakes.'
Dylan smiled down at his phone and pushed himself off the door. 'Thanks. I'm on my way now, I'll see you.'
///