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Dylan Skylar

"I've raised my son well. Look how neat and beautiful this place is."

"I learned from the best," I reply with a grin.

"Oh, you flatter me," my mom says with a light laugh, her eyes softening as she surveys the room.

I smile back at her, the warmth of her words always managing to ease whatever tension might be lingering. I help her sit down on the couch, making sure she's comfortable.

"Jason and Nicholas will be over soon," I mention, already hearing the faint sound of footsteps outside.

"I love those boys," she says, her voice tinged with fondness.

"And they love you too, Mom." I smile, proud of the bond they share. It's a good feeling, seeing how much they care for her, especially with everything she's been through.

I walk toward the kitchen, the familiar scents of home filling the air.

"Mom, what would you like for dinner?" I call over my shoulder, hoping to spoil her a little.

"Lasagna soup if possible. Your dad's favorite," she says softly, her voice dropping slightly.

Tomorrow marks the 7th anniversary of my dad's death. The weight of the day hangs in the air, even if we try not to speak of it. I know it's been hard on her, losing him. They were high school sweethearts, inseparable. And now, with him gone, there's a hollow space that nothing seems to fill.

I think back to the old days. Dad taking me, Jason, and Grayson to the park on weekends. We'd play kickball, the three of us running around until Jason and I would start wrestling on the ground, because apparently, I was always "cheating," according to him. Grayson, being the older and more responsible one, would try to pull us apart, even though we both knew he secretly enjoyed the chaos.

Grayson's a year older than me, but Jason and I have late birthdays, so it feels like almost two years in age difference.

"Grayson, hunny, what a surprise," my mom calls out, her face lighting up as she spots him.

I turn to see him walking toward her, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a teddy bear in the other.

"Looking beautiful as always, Maya," Grayson says with a grin, handing over his gifts.

"Oh stop, Grayson," Mom says, her face flushed with joy.

She takes the bouquet and teddy bear from him, her smile radiating warmth. I watch for a moment before turning back to the lasagna soup I'm preparing.

A few hours later, the house is filled with laughter and the familiar sounds of Monopoly being played at the dining table. Jason, Nicholas, and Grayson are all caught up in a game that has quickly become more competitive than any of us expected.

There's a few cups of wine in our systems, but none of us really mind. Tonight is about more than just the game. It's about being together, remembering the old times, and sharing the space we've built despite everything.

Grayson stands up and heads over to the wine bottle on the counter. He fills his glass and looks over at me, an easy smile on his face. He walks toward the kitchen sink, where I'm washing the last of the dishes.

"Let me join you," He says casually.

"How kind," I reply, the sarcasm rolling off my tongue.

"Sorry for coming as a surprise," He says, his grin widening. "I didn't mean to be the uninvited guest."

"It's fine. She hasn't seen you in nine years," I say, wiping my hands dry.

"Damn, it's been that long since high school?" Grayson shakes his head, feigning shock. "I feel my gray hairs coming in."

"She's always asking to see you," I add, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. "You're her favorite."

"I can see that," Grayson says with a smug grin. "I guess I'm the chosen one."

"Whatever you say, Blondie Blue," I tease, raising an eyebrow.

Grayson shoves me playfully, causing me to laugh. The nickname "Blondie Blue" is something Mom used to call him all the time when we were kids. He hated it, of course. Especially when she'd use it in that particular tone, the one where she was clearly annoyed with him. Like the time he kicked a soccer ball at the kitchen window and shattered it, he'd been mortified.

"I am right, Rapunzel," Grayson says suddenly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Rapunzel?" I blink, confused.

"Rapunzel is here!"

"Cut your hair, Rapunzel."

"How are you a guy if you look like Rapunzel with all that hair?"

"Are you gay or something, Rapunzel?"

The nickname from when we were in middle school.

"You're so cruel, Grayson," I mutter. "So, so, incredibly cruel."

I reach a hand up to my hair, suddenly self-conscious. Maybe a haircut wouldn't be such a bad idea.

"Dylan, you okay?" Grayson's voice is softer now, his hands resting lightly on mine as I zone out, lost in thought.

"My hair's bothering me," I admit. "I'm going to go get a hair clip."

"Let me go with you," He offers, his tone concerned.

I shake my head, offering him a small smile. "Go back to playing Monopoly. I might just head to bed instead."

"Okay... goodnight," he says, his voice a little quieter now, as if sensing the shift.

I watch as Grayson turns to rejoin the others, and for a moment, I stand there in the quiet of the kitchen. The weight of the past week presses down on me. Tomorrow, Dad's anniversary. It's going to be tough, but for tonight, we have each other. That's all that matters right now.
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Uploaded 11/05/24
Edited 01/19/25

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