The tension that followed his and his mom's little... fallout was suffocating, and when Dylan then had to sit down with her on Wednesday, it was more than a little bit awkward.
"I'll be coming home late tomorrow," he said at the kitchen table.
"Why?" His mom asked immediately, turning her gaze toward him and put the fork she was holding on the table.
"There's a football game that I've promised to attend," Dylan explained, moving his eyes to his dad with a pleading look.
Before his mom could say anything, his dad smiled wide and exclaimed:
"Of course, you should go! That's a great idea."
Dylan sighed in relief. Maybe he should bring some of the soccer team, too? It would probably be really fun.
"Wait for a second, haven't we decided that everyone should go home after school?" His mom spoke up, frowning at her husband.
"Come on, Marie," his dad sighed, "it's a football game! Don't you remember when we used to go to them?"
"I remember that we used to get wasted and cheer for the wrong team," Dylan's mom sighed, making him, William, and Riley exchange surprised looks.
"It's a Thursday and I don't drink," Dylan defended, pleadingly looking at his mom. She sighed after a moment's silence. But she did nod.
"Fine, but just this once," she said and Dylan grinned, "oh, by the way, kids, your dad and I are going to grandma and grandpa over the weekend, do you want to come?"
William smiled. "Sure, I'd love to meet them again."
Dylan, however, squirmed. "Well, I kinda have some things planned." Riley nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, me too," she smiled.
__
He wasn't at all surprised when he got to the football field on Thursday and it was already packed to the brim. Both Greenhill and Wedgewood tended to get very territorial, after all. A few yards away, he saw Landon waving him over and he grabbed Felicia's wrist, pulling her with him through the crowd.
Even in the November-chill, the massive number of people around them made Dylan sweat a bit.
"Why are our games never this packed?" Cole asked as Dylan and Felicia finally had gotten through the ocean of bodies.
"Because this is football in America and we play soccer," Landon laughed and Cole shot him a dirty look.
"Soccer is still the, what? Fifth most popular sport?"
"And football is the most popular. Period."
"I can't believe you just said 'period'," Shawn chuckled.
Dylan smiled. "Come on, we should grab some seats," he said.
The group found a relatively good place to sit about five minutes later, just in time for the game to start. As the air horn blew, Dylan looked out over the field, trying to find Chris among the other players. It wasn't that hard since he was basically in the middle of the field.
"How did you get your mom to revoke the grounding?" Felicia yelled over the other voices when it was half-time.
"I got some help from dad," he yelled back with a wide grin decorating his face.
"That's nice," Felicia smiled and pulled out her phone.
Dylan took that time to do the same and sent a text to Chris.
'You were really great!' The text said. Greenhill was currently ahead with quite a lot of points, mostly due to Chris's touchdowns just before the air horn had sounded again, signaling for the half-time show to start.
Almost an hour later, all of the Greenhill students rose in an ear-deafening cheer, and among them was Dylan. He threw his hands up in the air, yelling out a call of glee as the game ended with Greenhill in the lead. Wedgewood hadn't even had a chance, and their coach seemed to be boiling, completely red in the face and gestured left and right at his players.
Greenhill's coach, however, had run out on the field and was cheering with the rest of the team. Dylan was smiling so much that his cheeks had started to hurt, and when he turned his head to the side, he saw Landon doing the same.
"That was amazing!" Shawn yelled out over the crowd and Dylan let out a short 'whoop'.
They moved with the sea of people down from the bleachers, toward the field. Dylan moved his eyes over the large grass plane, looking for the dark fluffy hair that he knew so well. After a moment, he found it a little bit away from the crowd.
Chris seemed to be talking to a blond guy. From this distance, Dylan could barely make out that it was him and there was no way to hear the conversation, but from Chris's body language, Dylan guessed that he was irritated. He made harsh hand movements, gesturing wildly around himself.
The other guy, however, seemed to be very calm. Dylan left the others behind and went closer, wanting to congratulate Chris.
After a minute, Chris turned away from the guy, walking quickly toward the crowd.
"Chris!" Dylan called, jogging toward the taller. Chris turned and a soft smile broke out on his face. "Congrats, man."
"Thanks, Dyl," Chris embraced Dylan in what could only be described as a bro-hug. When he let go, he immediately pulled away, and while Dylan's stomach dropped a bit, he understood. It was safer. Neither of them was out, or whatever, so friends were as far as they would go... at least in public.
"You were great," Dylan grinned.
"Thank you. Hey, I've gotta hit the showers, but I'll see you... Meet me here at eight?"
"Aren't you going to celebrate with the team?"
Chris shook his head. "I can do that some other time. So... eight?"
Dylan took his phone out and checked the time. It was about seven-fifteen. Forty-five minutes. He nodded.
"Great, I'll see you," Chris winked at him and Dylan felt his cheeks heat up, even in the cold weather.
He stayed behind, away from the crowd, and watched the celebration. He sighed slowly and closed his eyes for a moment. It had barely hit him that people didn't know about who he liked- his parents didn't know. How would he tell them?
Well, he thought, maybe he didn't need to say anything before he was certain things would work out between him and the football player.
"Hey," Dylan was ripped from his thoughts by a voice behind him. He swiveled around and was met with the blond he'd watched talk to Chris earlier. "Do you have a cigarette?"
Dylan shook his head. "Nah, sorry."
"That's alright," the blond shrugged, "so, you're friends with Davis?"
It was a bit weird, hearing Chris being referred to by his last name by anyone other than a teacher, but Dylan nodded nonetheless.
"That's nice," the other reached his hand out for Dylan to shake, "I'm Ian Thomas. From his old class."
"Dylan. Brooks," Dylan gave him a smile, "cool to have a first name as a last name."
Ian chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose."
"Do you play?" Dylan gave a nod toward where the crowd had started to scatter. Ian shook his head.
"No, I just came to talk to Davis."
Dylan frowned. Chris had never mentioned Ian before.
"Okay," he said, not pushing the issue further than he needed to. The two of them stood in silence for a few minutes, quietly watching the football team start to move inside to shower or just go home.
"Alright, I'm gonna leave now, too," Ian took a breath. "Hey, I just want to warn you, man. I don't know how well you know Davis, but he won't hesitate to steal your girl, so keep her away," he nodded toward Felicia, "and he's not too unlike his brother."
With that, the blond left, walking around the bleachers to where he must have had his car. Dylan stood motionless on the field, watching the people that had stayed a bit longer file out to go home. He would have to drive Felicia home before he could meet up with Chris, so he went to where she and Shawn were standing.
"Hey," he greeted, making the two turn toward him, "are we ready to go?"
Felicia nodded. "Yep, all ready."
"I'll see you tomorrow," Shawn bid then goodbye and left the area. Dylan took a deep breath, swinging his arm around Felicia's shoulder.
"How was Chris?" She asked as they started to walk toward Dylan's car.
"He was good, he was happy about the win," Dylan grinned, and Felicia hummed.
"He played good," she agreed, untangling herself from Dylan and walked to the passenger side of the car. "Did you talk?"
"Not really, but we're gonna meet later," he got into the car and turned the ignition.
"When?"
"At eight."
"Don't you have to be home, though?" Felicia frowned. "Won't your mom get mad?"
Dylan shrugged. "Maybe," probably, "but I won't stay long, maybe an hour. As long as I'm back before nine or something." Felicia nodded.
He didn't mean to hurry to drop off Felicia, but he got there almost ten minutes earlier than what it should have taken. Felicia grinned.
"I get it, you wanna get it on," she giggled and Dylan shot her a playful glare.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Dylan said and Felicia nodded as she closed the car door.
The drive back went a little bit slower, as Dylan forced himself to not step on the gas. He didn't even have to hurry, really, since it was still ten minutes to eight as he backed into one of the empty parking lots by the football field.
It had gotten a lot darker since the game had ended, and the sky was turning a deep navy blue as Dylan got out of the car and walked toward the bleachers. The crisp air bit at his skin and the wind whistled past his unprotected ears.
He walked up the stairs, going all the way up to the top and then sat down on the cold surface. The spotlights that were to light the field had been turned on, and it was almost eerie to watch the frosty landscape in front of him.
He'd always liked being around the school in the night time. There was a pull to being there without the teachers telling him what to do. He let out a shaky breath, laying down on his back on the bench.
"Are you sleeping?" Chris's voice made Dylan open his eyes, sitting up on the bleacher.
"No," he smiled, watching Chris walk up the bleacher-stairs, "just waiting."
"What'cha waiting for?" The taller smirked, not yet all the way up.
"Oh," Dylan teased, "there's this girl that I was planning to meet here tonight."
"A girl, huh?" Chris was now standing in front of Dylan, who was still sitting. He brought a hand up and used it to lean Dylan's chin up so that he could look into his eyes. There was a moment of quiet before Chris's expression changed into something mischievous. "Are you ticklish?"
Dylan hoped that he'd been able to catch his panicked expression, but judging by the grin that broke out on Chris's face, he hadn't. In a split second, Chris had gotten close enough to dig his fingers into Dylan's sides, making the latter squeal out loud and grab Chris' wrists in a weak attempt to stop him.
"Stop!" Dylan yelled out between his fits of laughter as Chris grabbed a tight hold of him, basically getting on top of him, making him unable to get away. "No! Chris- please!"
When Chris finally let him go, Dylan felt as though he'd run five miles. He sighed, finally being able to breathe.
"I'm going to get you back for that, you know," he breathed. Chris chuckled.
"Yeah, I'd like to see you try."
Dylan hummed, pulling Chris closer so that they were mere inches apart. He stayed there, letting Chris take the last step of leaning forward and press their lips together. He sighed, wrapping his arms around the taller's shoulders, like usual finding himself playing with the hair in the nape of Chris' neck.
It was so easy, he realized, to relax around Chris. At least when they were alone. And while it felt great and he loved it, he also realized that it could be dangerous. But that wasn't anything he focused on, at least not when Chris placed his hands under Dylan's shirt and let them rest there, at his sides.
///