Kaiden went to speak, then paused. Lost in his own mind, he couldn’t seem to muster an example.
“It’s not a big deal,” Rus said. “Really, it’s cute. And I don’t feel left out, just realizing it’s something I have to learn to go with the flow of.”
“Kaiden doesn’t know how or why I ended up at Dorothy’s Home,” Dylan blurted, then immediately rushed to down his soda.
“I mean, I figured things with your family weren’t great…” Kaiden said with a sheepish shrug.
“Yeah, something I think we both resonate with.” Dylan gave a coy smile, a bit forced, or so Rus thought. “My family was shit. My dad knew I was gay before I even understood what the word meant, and he tried like hell to beat it outta me.”
The table fell silent, creating this bizarre contrast with the noisy restaurant. Everyone and everything around them bustled, but they remained in this quiet bubble.
“That was probably not appropriate date talk stuff. Definitely not first date talk.” Dylan’s cheeks twitched as he fought to keep a smile.
It was something Rus had grown to learn since meeting the rather jovial guy. Dylan rarely had a sour expression, but he rarely had a genuine smile either. The real one often came when no one was looking, no pretense or expectations. And almost always over something silly. Playing video games, sure. Making a proper movie prediction, definitely. Talking Rus out of picking a horror film, absa-fricken-lutely.
“I’d like to think we’re a bit past first date convos,” Rus said, clearing the air a bit. “And as far as inappropriate, that’s just people’s way of boxing up topics, and cutting out the truth.”
“I don’t think I fully understood that,” Dylan said with a light laugh. “But it sounded like support.”
Honestly, Rus didn’t fully grasp it either; his mouth moved faster than his brain pieced together his own thoughts. All that mattered was he hoped the words brought Dylan a bit of comfort.
“I was fourteen when I ran away. Almost sixteen before I stumbled onto Jasmine,” Dylan explained. “A lot of rough months.”
“You never really talk about this stuff,” Kaiden whispered.
“Hence why I picked it,” Dylan replied. “Gotta find something you didn’t know, prove Rus wrong.”
“You don’t have to,” Rus said with a nervous lump in his throat. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Nah, it’s good to air out old wounds, my therapist would be proud.”
“You go to therapy, too? Jeez.” Kaiden quirked a brow. “I didn’t know that either.”
Rus and Dylan shared a silent look and a soft smile.
“Not anymore, but off and on over the years when the ole mind needs a bit of a tune-up.” Dylan chuckled. “Things with my family sucked kind of like with yours.”
Dylan gestured to Kaiden, who nodded knowingly, and Rus had no way of relating. His parents had always supported him and his siblings. Any choice, any lifestyle, and belief. Even if it didn’t match their ideology. They led with love and support, and Rus whispered a silent ‘thank you’ to his parents. Sure, they wouldn’t hear him, but he’d be nicer to them the next time he visited, something to show he was grateful for how lucky he’d been.
“My dad was a piece of work—is, I suppose.” Dylan shrugged. “Not really sure if either of them is still alive or not. I assume, but you know…”
Dylan trailed off, lightly touching on how his father treated him, how his mother avoided making waves, and how his home was anything but a home.
Kaiden had turned his attention, staying quiet and simply letting Dylan speak. It was another thing Rus had grown to learn. While Kaiden didn’t always have the words for people,whether the topic veered into something serious and emotional, such as now, or simply something light and trivial, Kaiden did possess a communicative expression. Rus always felt the sincerity in his gaze, the curiosity in his smile, the kindness in his soft nods.
Rus attempted to follow suit, and they both listened to Dylan pour a piece of his soul out over dinner in this light-hearted ‘let’s not make a big deal out of my trauma’ kind of way.
“I think the worst part is that as much as I don’t want them in my life, a small part of me still wishes they’d change their mind one day and decide to be a part of my life.” Dylan shrugged, his shoulders far too stiff to convincingly act aloof. “At least I don’t hate them anymore. Jasmine and about six different therapists helped me work through those issues.”
Rus’ breathing hitched as Dylan recounted the barest of details. Nothing explicit, nothing to elaborate on the horrors of his home life, the hell of getting by on the streets, but his mood lightened when Jasmine came up, and his journey turned into something positive.
“Could’ve been a hell of a lot worse,” Dylan continued. “There aren’t a lot of homes geared toward teens. Not places that actually care. Even fewer that focus on queer youth. And probably only one place in all the world with someone as stubborn as Jasmine. She doesn’t give up on anyone, even when they don’t want the help.”
It was hard to imagine Dylan being reluctant or inconsiderate or abrasive, but his conservation tiptoed around his less-than-appreciative teen attitude.
They sat and listened and chatted and fell into casual conversation all over again. Rus found himself entranced by themen who’d invited him into their lives and hoped to grow closer with them.
Chapter Sixteen
