Julian's POV:-

Dylan is wearing sunglasses. 

Wayfarer to be more specific. 

I am not prepared for it. 

Kill me. Now.

When he catches me ogling he gamely maintains his blank face and raises one eyebrow above his glasses. Great, I am going to swoon and faint like a period heroine.

Lia is tugging my wrist to drag me with her to every shop. She's too excited with all the colorful shops. Show Lia a bunch of jewellery and she will follow you around like dog. Her excitement is infectious making me happy. I live to see her so happy.

"Seriously. What's with up these two?" Max mutters to Alex behind us. "Julian looks like a puppy out on his walk. And Lia looks like a clever thief cataloguing every store and vendor... Which reminds me I had to talk to Dylan about today's attackers. They do this weird thing with the ball.."

We finally enter a good café. Lia and I order first and go to find seats. 

Lia huffs loudly, "Do you have to be so freaking tall?"

I frown, "Bitch, I hate it as much as you do! Do you know how badly I want to be the tiny boyfriend who can fit into his boyfriend's pocket?"

"You're a brat," Lia deadpans sitting in the corner. 

"What is your problem?" I ask genuinely baffled. "You are tall for a girl."

"Yeah, but I'm still shorter than Max," she grumbles arranging the sauces on the table. "As long as my brother has that infuriating several inches above me, I cannot rest in peace!"

I abandon Lia at her seat and go to admire the doodles drawn on the wall at the back of the café. I should have brought my camera.

Behind me the guys order. My heart skips a noticeable beat on hearing Dylan's voice when he orders mango shake for himself. I clench my hands in my pockets and take a deep breath.

I want to go to him. I haven't properly talked to him yet, or even made an eye contact for the record. My hands itch to bury themselves in his smooth hair, comb through his silky strands. But I wait. No, let him come to me. What if I am overwhelming him again?

Lia has told me I tend to forget boundaries quite often, which is painfully true. And I need to re-evaluate. Dylan must also need to re-evaluate. He seems perfectly fine, not talking to me. So maybe I am doing the right thing for once.

I just have to be normal and wait like normal people do. I cannot go Julian and barge in again. Let him breathe and give him space, no matter how much it drives me crazy. No matter how much it tugs my heart to see him laugh with others and know that I don't matter as much as I think I do. 

This whole thing is going to be good for me too. Maybe I will learn how to love like normal person, not like a starved, psychotic, desperate animal. 

And I should be proud of the progress I am making. This morning there was an empty seat beside Dylan at breakfast and I did not take it. I sat next to Alex.

I mean, talk about growth. I think pleased, as I stare at the café's paint board. I feel I have totally matured so much and I am exercising insane amount of self control. Over all, I have become a better human being and I have developed a keen sense of-

"Do you want to eat anything?"

I jump and let out an undignified squawk. 

"Julian?" Dylan asks a bit concerned. 

"I-I already ordered," I rasp finally, then clear my throat because I sounded like a thug which is so not style, especially when I am wearing baby pink nail polish. 

"Okay. Do you want anything else?" he asks gently.  

Fuck. 

Dylan is talking to me. 

Why is he talking to me? 

I mean, why is he talking to me like that? Did he come all the way to me just to ask this?

He looks mouth-watering as ever in a black Henley shirt and blue jeans. I just want to hug him, and smell him.

"Nada," I squeak out, then cringe internally for being so lame. Dylan leaves after giving me a you're-being-weird look. Oh, the joy of receiving those looks. 

I stomp and slump down beside Lia like a pile of blanket and let out a miserable groan.

"Oh, that sounded terrible," Lia mutters scrolling through her Instagram. "Are ya finally dying, Julie?"

"I hope so," I moan.

"Good. I'd like to see you in a casket."

"Make sure I have rainbow patterned roses."

"Anything else?"

"Instead of a covering me in white cover me in gay flag. And LGBTQ flags everywhere your eyes can see. I mean let people miss the fact that I'm dead but not the fact that I was gay."

"Gotcha. I'll even nailart rainbows on your cold, dead, hands."

"My toenails too."

"Of course."

"I love you."

"Thank you."

"Say it back, you fuckin bitch," I laugh. She shifts her fries in front of me. That'll also do...

I have wished so many times to tell Lia about this. This whole thing is too much for me to bear alone. Lia and I are different in those ways. She doesn't like to talk or share. She will keep everything inside till she is bursting from pressure and then go let it all out in some wild party where you wake up next day in someone's lawn two towns away.

I, on the other hand, need to talk. I need to get it off, because I get overwhelmed. And it doesn't need much to get me overwhelmed. The other day I was sitting on the kitchen floor staring hopelessly at a bag of bread because the toaster broke. Lia had kicked me twice in the ass and fried me bacon and eggs.

With this Dylan thing I am most probably going to end up getting massively fucked, sadly not in a literal way, and become an emo kid with bad style who wears black tulle above black jeans. I sadly whimper again.

As I pluck out one more fry, my eye catches a new photo posted on Instagram. "Lia, wait!" I sit up.

"Whaa? 's jus Dy'an," Lia says with a mouth full of fries. I take her phone and open Dylan's account. Thing is, I don't use Instagram. At least I haven't for the last few months. I could not block George because I wanted to show that I'm cool and not affected by him. But in reality I was, and I was also friends with his friends who all reminded me of him. So, I had a fake account and used that to scroll through reels.

Dylan's didn't post many photos. On his feed there's one where he is sitting on the soccer ground, in a muddy jersey and a goofy grin, as if waiting for someone to bring him a smoothie. I read the caption, where he has tagged Alex for picture credit.

Another is from a school event, where he is wearing a black suit, narrow tie, hair gelled to give them a messy appearance. His white shirt looks tight and has creases as he leans against the wall, one leg propped up, hands casually resting in pockets. My heart does stupid turns and twists.

In another picture, he is at a bar wearing a maroon shirt and black pants. He is looking to the side, his hands propped on the counter. The top four shirt buttons are undone giving a generous peek at his muscled chest. A silver chain loosely dangles around his neck. A very slutty photo. The picture itself makes you wanna lick your way down his chest, till you reach his joystick. He is smirking, as if he can read the dirty thoughts on your mind. Stupid jawline.

And his most recent one where he is hugging Comfort in his backyard, wearing a stripped tank and shorts. The caption read, Missing home.

"Dude's cute," Lia mumbles.

"He's okay," I sniff, scrolling through his comment section like a creep.

Lia snorted, "Bitch, please. If you weren't moving on from your bad breakup you would be totally trying to get into his pants."

"Fuck off, Lia," I snort and put the phone away as everyone else joins us with massive loads of food. Ian sits next to me, and Dylan after him. Luke sits in front of Dylan. Max in front of me with Alex. 

Max frowns at my hand, "Pink? Can't you put some scarier color? Like black or red or green?"

Alex groans, "For the last time, Max. This is a football game. Not a street brawl."

"Exactly," Lia agrees. "All your stupid plans for intimidation, only makes you look stupider, Max."

"Yeah? Well maybe it's because I had enough of people trying to make a fool of me behind my back," Max snaps. A chill runs down my spine, from the complete flip in Max's tone. The whole table freezes, and I can feel everyone's uneasiness. 

But Lia is unfazed, biting back with equal venom, "Who is making a fool out of you? The other team? You already beat 'em last year? You're just whining because you need to flaunt your arrogant ass."

Somehow I feel Lia unknowingly steered the conversation into a different zone, because Max's shoulder loosen. He shakes his head, "I don't want to talk to you."

"Aww, poor baby," Lia says sarcastically. "I had enough of you idiots, and all your testosterone pumped conversations. If any of you even breathes another word about domination, or ego flash, I swear on my tits I'll clock you."

Surprisingly, it's Luke that starts laughing. It's soft, and he hides it behind his hand but his laugh vaporizes the tension in the air. Lia rolls her eyes, and soon we are eating and chatting. Max and Lia avoid each other, but they fight very often so nobody is concerned.

"Oh, wow," Max breathes on seeing a girl enter the café, making us all look up. She was wearing a pretty cute top and a mini skirt.

"I found my wife," Alex grins rubbing his oily hand on his sleeves. Ew.

"Whoa, hey!" Max complains. "Wait a minute. I saw her first."

"Doesn't matter. We are meant to be," Alex says seriously.

"Really, how?" Max asks sarcastically.

"Well as you can clearly see-"

"If you say she's black and I'm black as the reason I'm going to rip you a new one," Max hisses.

"Its only natural," Alex defends. "Can you imagine how gorgeous our babies are gonna be?"

"Fuck you. She's mine."

"In your dreams."

"No, you can dream. I'm going to-"

"Guys," Ian interrupts. "The girl just left with her boyfriend who by the way was way bigger and taller than you both."

Both the morons flush. Finally Max sniffs and mutters, "Well, I'm happy that she's taken care of." Alex snorts loudly causing a new fight to erupt. 

I scoot closer to Lia and hug her arm, closing my eyes to wait for others to finish eating. I feel someone's eyes on me and open mine just to catch Luke looking away. 

On our way back, Max gets a call from Coach. We all notice how Max straightens up, out of fear or respect, or both. After he hangs up, Alex nudges Dylan, "Its like my Pa terrorizing white businessmen."

"Your Pa, is terrifying all the time," Dylan replies. "The only time he looks happy is when he's around your mom."

Alex winces, "Yeah. They both can be disgustingly in love sometimes."

"Speaking of disgustingly in love," Max mutters. "Anyone seen Lukey boy? I feel like I could guilt trip him into buying me an after-match smoothie."

Luke was reluctantly dragged into a speed-walking competition between Ian and Lia, so they were far away from us.

Alex snickers, "Make sure to take Ian with you. He's been rambling about her in front of Luke. And Luke almost lost it this morning. I feel we can get him this time."

Her?

...............................

Before the match we had time. I felt too worked up to nap, so I barge into Max's room to look for Lia and find everyone in that room. Lia was sitting in a chair flipping through a magazine. 

"Baby," I grin, and kiss both her cheeks. 

"That's it. You have reached your daily limit of five kisses and one hug," she squints her eyes at me. My grin widens and I sit in her lap to annoy her further. 

Rest  of the guys were weaving shoe laces in their cleats. Dylan was helping Alex with his shoe. Lia wiggles out from under me mumbling she needed to shower. I stay in that chair laughing over how Alex and Dylan argue over Top lock and Forward-foot lock lacing techniques. 

Max who had been missing in the room, storms in and heads straight towards the bathroom. I pause laughing to holler him, "Max-"

"Have you learned nothing?" Luke snaps, giving my chair a tug that I jerk forward. "Look at him. Max's obviously irritated. So the last thing you should do is try to approach him. Or do you want to get punched in face?"

I am beyond confused and everybody's sudden silence made me uneasy. 

"Max wouldn't punch his friends," I argue back in a little voice.

"He wouldn't," Luke agrees. "But that's the thing. You're not his friend."

Ian winces loudly. 

That was a really mean thing to say, and it wasn't like Luke to say something so hurtful. Something was wrong and I knew I wasn't involved. But still I felt myself flush, "Right. Sorry. I'll just go-"

But Luke cuts me off by picking his cleats and leaving the room. My face was uncomfortably warm, "Uhh, guys I'll-"

"Fuck, Julian," Alex says hurriedly. "Luke was jealous. I swear this has nothing to do with you."

"We would've stopped it if we ourselves weren't so surprised that Luke-the-robot could even get jealous," Ian adds hurriedly. 

"And man, jealousy makes him real ugly," Dylan muses.

"Why's he jealous of me?" I ask bewildered. All three of them snap their mouths close. I could not pester further because Max came out of he bathroom and told us to go get our stuff as we had to go to the field.

We wait in the dining room till the entire team assembled. Dylan sits down next to me. He smiles at me before yelling something to Ian. I direct my attention to Coach who was giving us tips, not even trying to think about Dylan or his random smile. 

My breath hitches when I feel a warm ankle on my leg. I cautiously shift my leg away and I hear Dylan's muted scoff before he shoves his leg between my shoes. I try to subtly slap his arm.

Did he loose it? What if somebody sees us?

And was he done ignoring me? 

Thankfully the meeting ends and Dylan leaves with Ian. But my luck runs out when Luke corners me before I could get on the bus.

"Julian, I'm sorry."

I start, "What?"

"I'm sorry for saying you're not Max's friend. You are. I should not have said that."

"Heh? Then why did you say that?" There's a long pause.

"You really don't know, do you?" Luke asks curiously.

"Know what?" I ask confused. 

Luke opens his mouth, "Julian, I.. Actually it's... Me and- Fuck... Look, it's nothing. Just forget I ever said anything, except the sorry part. I mean it."

I have never heard Luke talk this much, which itself was weird. Seeing him stammering and conflicted got me even more surprised. Luke goes before I can say anything else. But he meant the apology so I feel a lot better as I climb onto the bus.

............................

Everybody is joshing around in the locker room. I force a laugh when Jose makes a joke but my stomach is doing flips. I mean I know there is a team, and I am just in there to fill the number. Nobody excepts anything from me, but on the bus the boys were retelling some of the nasty tricks Blue Valley pulled in the past. 

Safe to say, my anxiety latched onto those stories like a starved puppy.

I finish dressing up when Coach tells us to gather around.

Max was standing next to him with a serious face. When Max becomes serious, everybody loses their jokes and pays attention.

"Is there a new plan, Coach?" one boy asks hesitantly.

"Yes. We are going to take some lotion and tickle their balls," Coach says sarcastically. We all clench our jaws and keep straight faces.

"The fuck you ask that! We play like we planned, like we practiced. We are going against Blue Valley itself. And I will be near to make sure it's a fair game. You twerps just give me the best game you can," Coach booms his voice resonating in the room.

"Yes, Sir," we all shout in unison.

"You two," Max says pointing at Dylan and Ian. "No fighting on the field."

"Of course not, dude!" they both look offended. "You know we would never lose focus in game."

.................................

"That is Ron," Dylan says running next to me. "He keeps charge of back line. You need to stay out of his way, or he'll kick you."

It's been like that the whole match. Dylan running around me, and giving me warnings and advices. He doesn't even realize how sweet he is being and also how unnecessary because I had also watched the old, recorded matches with the team. But the whore inside me preened from the attention and made me continue to act dumb. 

Luke had managed to score the first goal and our team was riding the high. The opposite team was obviously getting irritated and it was showing in their game. They became more aggressive and sloppy. 

The ball goes from Alex to Luke, who passed it to Ian when he got surrounded by two players. Our attention was on the ball which is probably why nobody knew until Ted screamed. Luke was on his knees. He coughed and my face paled on seeing him cough blood. His face was pinched like he was in acute pain.

I felt dizzy with rage when I saw the knowing smirk Easton (captain of Blue Valley) sent to the two guys who were standing to the side with fake concerned faces. 

"He fucking knew!!" I snarled storming towards Easton my hands already forming into fists. Easton's eye grew wide in surprise as if he did not expect me to be the first one shouting.

"My team mates did not see Glasses coming right at them," Easton shook his head. "It was an obvious mistake." 

"The fuck you mean you did not see him coming?" Max snapped standing in front of him. Both guys were tall and tried to tower over each other. Dylan and Nathan rush past me to crowd Easton. I was shocked because despite clearly being in fault the Blue Valley team showed no signs of worry.

Dylan shouted at Easton to which he replied with, "Let the referee decide." My heart twisted uncomfortably when I saw Easton's lip curl with a smug smile.

Alex interferes and stops Max who looked like he was going to punch Easton, the game be damned. The referee first assesses Luke who now stood with Ian's help and asks, "What happened?" 

"You saw what happened?" Max snaps. "He was punched!"

"If you don't calm down I'll be giving you a yellow card," he threatens and my jaw drops. This whole place is fucking rigged.

Before Max could further shout Luke speaks up, "Sir, I am in much pain. I need to sit down before talking."

The referee nods and dismisses everyone.

.............................

After leaving Luke with Lia, everyone returned to the field. We all were tensed and annoyed. The Coach was worried and angry. He tried his best but out of the two boys who had cornered Luke only one of them got penalty. And that too just a yellow card. 

The match folded quickly after that. Our defense was good so the other team only scored one shot, while Max and Leonard each scored a goal. Coach mutters a brief Good work, boys  to us before going out probably to fight more over Luke's case.

Max sensed everyone in a low spirit even after winning, so he offers to take the team out for burgers and milkshakes. The mood considerably improves after that. The restaurant location is shared and quickly everyone leaves.

I purposefully stay back and let others go. My mind was still replaying how Luke kneeled on the ground and the two guys watching without a remorse. I always thought that being in a group was safe. That no one could attack if I had my friends around me. But Luke's incident gave me a reality check.

My hands tremble and I crouch down to put my head between my knees breathing shakily. I was cold and my throat was dry. I hated myself for feeling so scared. Why was I looking for a safety net everywhere I go? No home, no friends. I could die and no one would care.

I stand up, shaking my head. 

That is wrong. 

I have Lia. 

But if I die will she remember me always? The way a mother or a sister, your family, remembers you? She'll find a new friend and in few years forget me, won't she? My eyes fill up. I feel pathetic standing in a locker room and crying over a made-up scenario. 

But isn't it more pathetic to not have anyone consider you permanent?

My mind involuntarily goes to Dylan. 

Will he remember me if I die? 

Well you did give him plenty of trauma to last a lifetime, my brain retorts. I laugh a humorless laugh, kick myself again for doing the things I do, and drag myself into the shower.

After toweling my hair, I wrap it around my waist and hype myself to get dressed. The thought of pulling on jeans made me want to slide into a puddle on the ground. I should have packed some shorts.

My legs and brain come to a halt when I see Dylan sitting on the floor in the locker room. He was scrolling through his phone, back leaned against the wall.

He looks up, and I raise an eyebrow. Why was he on the floor?

"All the seats are wet and dirty."

My eyes glance around the dripping, messy locker room and nod.

Whatever, I guess. I was too exhausted to deal with him right now. I move towards my locker.

"Julian."

I stop and turn to him with a tired sigh.

Dylan spread open his legs. "C'mere," he patted the floor in front of him. I gave him a confused look. He has actually lost it, hasn't he?

Dylan rolls his eyes, "Monkey, just come. Sit with me."

My steps are slow but I squat down in front of him.

"Closer," Dylan mumbles, gripping my bicep and turning me around and making me sit in between his open legs. Oh.

"Relax," he murmurs, holding my shoulders and pulling me back. 

"What is this?" I ask, my voice a whisper.

"I was worried about you," he admits. "You didn't look alright after the match. I left with others to give you space but came back to take you to the restaurant."

I feel my head nod and allow my body to slump against him. "I just took a shower," I mumble.

Dylan runs his thumb from my elbow to my wrist, "You smell nice."

"I'm still wet. Your clothes'll spoil."

"It's okay," he kisses my ear. I snuggle my head against his neck and close my eyes.

"Why did you go?"

"Go where, Baby?" Dylan's arms bracket mine.

"Away from me," I feel tears collecting on my lashes. Dylan tenses before taking my hand.

"I am sorry. I shouldn't have stayed away so abruptly. I was trying to sort my head and figure out what to do."

I press my face harder into his neck, "Sorry. I have made everything so difficult for you."

"Yes, that you do," he murmurs. "Do you know, I have had zero success in sorting myself out. All I could focus on was how I missed you, Julian." Long fingers comb through my hair. I shrink into myself.

Wasn't this everything I missed? This warm body, this smell, this voice. His thigh around my hips, honey-colored fingers playing with mine. There is something inside me that is making my heart squeeze from the mere sight of our joined hands.

"Does this make you happy, Monkey?" Dylan asks. I sniff, and nod twice.

"What else will make you happy?" he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over the pulse on my hand.

"Doing laundry with you," I answer in a small voice. He doesn't laugh like I thought he would. Instead, surprisingly his heart seemed to pick up pace.

"Eating my meals with you," I confess, afraid of how much he's willing to listen. "Knowing how you like your coffee. Hold your hand while watching it rain outside. Being able to wear your shirts and hoodies."

He listens to me. Dylan continues to listen to me as I tell him all my stupid, raw, basic needs. He listens to me as I tell him about the garden with tulips, and orchids, with graceful jasmines and vibrant sunflowers. I tell him about the small house with one bedroom and tiny kitchen where I'll cook the best pasta, and decorate walls with framed memories. I tell him about the crowded streets, and shoulders brushing because of walking close together, of eyes looking up only to find affection returned. I tell him of muted television and board games beside an open window.

Finally I tell him of green lawn and sunny days, and warm blankets on rainy nights. How the heart will try to capture each moment with another loud thump but fail because it's too big to be contained.

Dylan listens to it all and says nothing when I free my hand to wipe a tear. 

After a while he speaks, "You'll be happy if you get all of this?" 

I chuckle, "I'll be over the moon if I get even half of this."

Dylan takes my chin and gently turns my face. Soft, fleeting kisses are pressed over my cheeks and eyes. He exhales, his hot breath curling around my ear. 

"Dylan."

"Fuck's sake, Julian. Don't say my name like that," he whispers gathering me in one of the tightest hugs I've ever been. 

I brace myself when he pulls back and starts to say something, but his phone rings. I can hear Ian's voice when Dylan answers, looking visibly upset over getting disturbed.

"Yeah, I'm coming... No, don't leave... Yes, I found Julian.... We're on our way," He says getting up and pulling me up, pointing with his chin to get dressed. "Tell Alex to wait at the gate. We'll pick him up," Dylan continues talking while picking up my bag. 

I forgo my jeans and put on my jersey's dark green shorts beneath my purple shirt. It's a fashion murder statement, but Dylan says nothing and pulls me by the wrist towards the exit.

My heart thumps a loud beat and tries to record the moment.

................................

istg today I opened this draft and said there ain't no way I'm moving until I finish it. Again apologies for making everyone wait. Seriously guys, I am sorry. I had no idea my life will get so hectic that I won't get time to write.

Hope you liked the update!! <3

Also thank you for so many comments. I might not respond to them all but I read and feel very happy. My heart sings because of you all.