Summer had arrived once again in the Appalachians, bringing the balmy, humid days that warm the region from May to October. Once again the mountains had dawned their emerald cloaks of foliage, nature's green now reaching from the warm valleys below to even the mountaintop "bald" Aidan and Mason knew as home. The begrudged pace of racing from home to vehicle and back again each morning and evening to escape the frigid temperatures of the high altitudes had finally given way to nights spent round the fire pit viewing the beauty of the celestials while the "lightening bugs" flared their tiny lights across the meadows.
Warm breezes "swished" and "hissed" their song through the swaying green boughs of forests just beyond the surrounding fields. The air constantly rang with the excited chattering of the countless varieties of birds that knew the region as home. But for all the life that abounded along the ridges and crests of the mountains, and for the flurry of activity within and roundabout the house, spring cleaning, vegetable gardening, etc., one room within the house remained silent and still. Indeed, had one not known the young lad had spent the last few months living with his elder brother they would've been greatly surprised to have known a young man by the name of Dylan McManus even existed!
The change in his younger brother's disposition hadn't gone unnoticed by Aidan. He'd seen the signs from his earliest hours after returning home from visiting his friend Paul. That late evening when he'd stumbled exhaustedly through the door he'd expected an icy greeting from the young man at best. When he'd received the pained look that somehow managed to appear half an attempt of a smile, yet verging on a fear of making eye contact, only to have the young man practically race up the stairs, Aidan had hardly known what to make of the situation. All the time he'd been with his friend he'd hoped against hope that Dylan and Mason might, somehow, come to a form of an understanding, and, indeed, it did appear there'd been a change in the young man. But as the days progressed and Aidan watched the solemn young man that ghosted through the rooms of the house he began to fear that something was gravely wrong. ===========================================================================================================================
The hallway leading along the Math Department was deserted. The young man gazed dejectedly along the corridor toward the exit he trudged toward. Of course it was deserted! Only an idiot such as himself would be here an hour after school had ended on the last day of the year! He absently kicked at a crumpled bit of paper that had fallen to the floor as he passed, wishing he could somehow feel the pain of the kick himself. How stupid could he have been to think Mr. Webb would talk to him now? He hadn't spoken to him in almost three months; what would change now?
These last months had been the worst time Dylan had ever experienced, and that included learning about his dad's illness. The cruel irony of realizing that what he'd once believed to have been the most wonderful day of his life had brought about the saddest time in his life was almost unbearable. That afternoon he'd spent with Mr. Webb had been the stuff of dreams. He'd experience both a physical and emotional pleasure that day he'd not known before. But it wasn't to last. The terrible truth was that that one day of pleasure had led to a loneliness that had rendered him practically lifeless.
Though his body had felt the physical effects of that evening for days after the scars his heart had received the following days had never healed. Dylan had returned happily to school that next morning believing that, even if theirs was to be a secret relationship, he'd found someone who with whom he might share his heart. But the cold reception he'd received had all but broken him in front of his classmates. Indeed, it had taken every ounce of self-restraint he possessed not to break down and weep throughout the rest of the day.
For several days afterwards he'd returned hopefully to the person who held his heart, hoping against hope that there'd been some misunderstanding. "Yes," he'd assured himself, that had to be it. He knew Mr. Webb better than that; he wouldn't treat his favorite student that way, especially not after they'd...well, he just wouldn't. But the days of indifference had persisted. Finally, becoming frustrated, and more than a little hopeful for another day together with Mr. Webb, Dylan had waited a full two hours after class one Friday evening to discuss their situation privately.
Upon first hearing the cold response he received from Mr. Webb Dylan first believed he'd misunderstood. But upon asking an explanation from the man who peered somberly over his glasses at him Dylan received a heartbreaking confirmation of an unspoken fear. "Dylan I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we're not going to be able to spend time together anymore."
"What? Wh...what do you mean?" "Well, frankly put, I think it's a bit obvious I've not been talking to you in class. You're a bright young man; I think you know why. I also believe that, whether either of us like the idea or not, we cannot be what you are hoping for." "But Mr..." "No, there's no changing my mind! What happened between you and I was a terrible mistake on my part. You don't know how I wish I could go back to that day and alter what took place between us. I've hated myself ever since. And the worst part is I've not even been able to be man enough to approach you about this; I've waited on you to come to me!"
Tears stung Dylan's eyes as memories swirled in his mind. How he'd pleaded with the handsome man who'd refused to even touch his hand that afternoon! "Mr. Webb...please, just let's talk..." "No Dylan, I'm afraid there's nothing else to discuss. I will be resigning after this semester is completed. I cannot, in good conscience, expect to carry on teaching, pretending as though nothing ever happened. Quite frankly, it has surprised me that you've not gone to Principal Sparks about this before now!"
The handsome face had peered sadly at him for a moment before his quiet voice had spoken its final words. "I cannot ask you to forgive me for what I've done to you. I certainly will never forgive myself! And I will more than understand if you feel you must go to the administration about this matter. I also know that nothing I promise or offer will undo the damage I've caused. All I can offer is this promise...if you have not reported this incident to the authorities before the end of the school year, by whatever grace you might find in your heart, you have my solemn word that you will never see me again. I will make quite sure I do not harm your life anymore."
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The fire crackled merrily in the pit, echoing across the meadows surrounding the house. The night sky above glistened with the countless stars of the heavens, the views unobstructed due to the high altitude and setting of Aidan and Mason's mountaintop home upon the bare "bald" of the Blue Ridge. The nighttime had begun to tune her orchestra of symphony for another night's serenade to lull the mountain inhabitants to sleep.
As the chorus of the miniscule tree frog, known as "peepers" to the mountain folk, drew to a height of sound, augmented and supported by the occasional yelp of the coyote and the disgruntled hoot of an owl Aidan felt himself beginning to feel drowsy. But though a busy week's schedule of grueling work, both of occupation and home, had brought him to the brink of exhaustion his mind still pondered the shadowy figure of the small young man who sat to himself just outside the fire's glow. Aidan studied the shadowy face the occasionally came into focus in the bouncing, flickering light of the fire. He knew that look.
Aidan smiled ruefully as realization dawned on him. There were a great many ways in which he and his younger brother differed, but despite both their efforts to prove otherwise there were many likenesses. But he'd no more than allowed this thought to cross his mind than his heart began to ache for the boy. There was just one problem; that wasn't a look of stubbornness or anger, or even of aloofness as the boy had attempted before. No, the forlorn face that now shown within the light of the fire now held nothing but dejection. Despite his attempts to suppress it a sigh escaped Aidan's muscle body. Yes, he knew that look; someone had broken the boy's heart!
He studied his brother's small form for some time, chancing a glance at Mason who's nod only confirmed that he saw Aidan's observation as well. Yes, there was no mistaking that look. The young boy who sat across the patio from he and Mason had been injured. He studied his brother for a moment before looking away, so as not to draw the teen's attention. No doubt, he'd fallen for some young girl at school who'd not taken as great a fancy to him and had hurt him.
Aidan felt the corners of his mouth tug into a tiny smile again. Why some girl wouldn't want Dylan he wasn't sure of; small as he was, he was quite a handsome young man! Loathe as he was to admit such a thing, Aidan had to confess that both he and his younger brother had taken their looks from their paternal family. His own mother, bless her, had always been a rather squat woman. She'd often begrudgingly stated that, "though she despised the man with a passion," she was glad Aidan had taken his good looks from his father.
He chanced another glance toward the small young man that sat staring into darkness that surrounded them. Who would turn Dylan down? It was true, the boy had been a pain in the ass with he and Mason; there was not denying that. He'd been practically impossible to live with the first couple of months he'd been here. But by all accounts of his teachers and the school staff he was a respectful young man. Many described him as being a bit shy, but quite a young gentleman. The math teacher had been all raves about him at their last conference. Hell, even his own mother had spoken favorably of the boy!
( "Well, maybe it's just your personality! He's always oh-so-respectful with me. Perhaps you should try to look at things from his point of view. After all he's been..." )
He allowed his casual glance to turn into an all-out stare. Yes, something was definitely up. He might not have been the hulking ox that he, Aidan, had always been, but the boy had quite handsome bone structure. He might not have been the "overgrown hoss" that he, Aidan, had been at that age from pumping iron, but he'd begun to develop an athletic build. He had a pleasant face, and more to the point, Aidan had learned that the sulky personality he displayed at home was reserved for only he and Mason. So who would hurt a kid like that?