Like Gods

[19] giddy fluttering

It was Saturday. The day. Dylan sat up in bed and looked around. His heart was racing and he hadn't even gotten out of bed yet.

It was just before nine in the morning. In a few minutes, his alarm would ring, signaling for him to actually get up and get ready. He would shower, drink some coffee, read some, and then it would be three.

Just as he expected, the familiar beeping sound started from his alarm clock and he quickly reached over to turn it off. He stepped into a pair of sweats and trudged down to the kitchen. William was already up and sat at the table with a newspaper. 

"Good morning," he mumbled from the table as Dylan made his way to the coffeemaker, "you're up early, mom and dad are still sleeping." 

"It's not early, it's nine," Dylan replied, the sound of the machine whirring in the background, "and I have a lot to do today." 

"I, uh, I heard about mom's grounding," William sighed, putting the newspaper away, "I'm sorry about that. I tried to talk her out of it but she was hell-bent on the 'family night every night' thing." 

"Yeah, I noticed," Dylan grabbed a coffee mug and poured the finished coffee into it, "thanks for trying, though." 

"No problem." 

"So, why are you up at this hour?" He sat down at the opposite side of the table, taking a sip of the boiling hot drink. 

"I had some work to finish so I decided to wake up a bit earlier," William smiled, "what are your plans for the day?" 

Dylan did his best at keeping a smile off his face. "I'm meeting a friend."

"A date?" 

"No," Dylan assured, a little bit too enthusiastically, "no, it's not a date." 

"What are you going to do?" 

"I don't know yet, I'm not the one who planned it." 

"So a surprise date?" William wore a smug grin and Dylan felt his cheeks heat up just a bit.

"It's not a date," he repeated, trying to keep his cover.

"Okay," William kept the grin, "I get it, you don't want to tell me who your date is-" 

"It's not a date!" Dylan sighed. It wasn't until now he'd wondered how his family would react if he told the truth. Sure, he'd like to think that nothing would change, but what if it would? What if they were to react like one of those super-conservative southerners and disown him?

"Hey?" William brought him from his thoughts and he looked up. "Are you okay? You look a little pale, you know I was just joking." 

"Yeah, I'm okay," Dylan deflected, standing up, "I just remembered that I have a lot to do until I'm leaving."

"Sure," his brother smiled.

Dylan grabbed the half-full cup of coffee and went back up the stairs. He entered the bathroom and put the mug down on the sink, locking the door.

A few minutes later, he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and his sandy-brown hair a mess, dripping water everywhere. He hurried over to his room, the now empty mug getting forgotten in the bathroom.

Should he have picked out clothes beforehand? Probably, he realized as he stood in his room with a sudden panic over his clothes. He would wear jeans, that much was sure, but what to wear as a top, he didn't know.

Nothing, maybe? He smiled at his thought. No, that would be inappropriate. 

"Dylan?" His mother called from downstairs. So they'd woken up now, he thought and pulled the jeans on, pairing them with a white knitted sweater.