[29] plane rides

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It was Sunday. Dylan was exhausted after having been the one to sleep on the pull-out couch of the run-down motel that they'd stayed at. They were just going home, the whole four-hour drive, to wash up before going out to dinner at some fancier restaurant before William was going to the airport. 

He missed Chris, which was weird since they'd spent all of Thursday afternoon together. Not that long ago, right? Wrong. It was way too long ago, according to Dylan. Still, it was better to have some time away from the football player. He had to let his neck heal, after all.

"That was nice, wasn't it?" His mom smiled from the passenger seat. She looked in the rear-view mirror, sighing. "Dylan, won't you take off your jacket, you'll start to sweat." 

"I am eighteen years old, mom, don't you think I can tell if I'm going to be warm by myself?" 

"No, I don't think that you can," she stated matter-of-factly.

This comment made Dylan roll his eyes, unbuckling his seatbelt and shrugged off the jacket. Both William and Riley, who were sitting on each side of him, snickered. He shot them both of them a glare.

"It was nice, mom," William answered as Dylan re-buckled the seatbelt.

"That's easy for you to say," Dylan huffed, "you didn't sleep on a stiff couch." 

"I offered to take it!" He exclaimed, laughing, "It's not my fault that you're so stubborn." 

"No, that would be your mother's fault," their dad chuckled from the driver's seat, making all the kids either laugh or hum in agreement.

Even their mom couldn't help but smile. "I think we share that- Dylan?" She looked at him in the mirror again.

"Huh?" Dylan tried readjusting the blanked that he and Riley shared over his legs, then looked up to meet his mom's eyes.

"Is that a hickey?" 

The best way to describe how Dylan felt at that moment would be to say that his life flashed before his eyes. In an instant, all eyes in the car were on him. It was only Riley's gaze that wasn't surprised. Her's was more of an 'oop, busted' kind of look.

"You've got yourself a girlfriend, Dylan?" His dad asked.

"I- uh," he stuttered, thinking quickly, "yeah." 

"When are we going to meet her?" His mom exclaimed, suddenly in an outstanding mood, turning around in her seat. "What's her name?" 

"Uh, I- I don't know how serious it is, so, uh, I don't know," so smooth, "hi- her name is, uh, Chris- Chrissy. Christine." 

Now, William snapped his head in Dylan's direction. Damn, if this continued, everyone would know within a day. He gave William a look that screamed 'please, please don't tell', and he sighed in relief when his brother stayed quiet.

"That's a nice name," his mom smiled, sitting back down in her seat. "And she's pretty?" 

Dylan smiled softly. "She's..." hot "very pretty." 

"Well, she's welcome for dinner any time. Make sure to use protection, Dylan." 

"Mom!" Dylan yelled out, making both William and Riley laugh aloud. 

Five hours passed. The airport wasn't too crowded as the entire Brooks family arrived, William carrying the medium-sized duffle that he'd brought on one shoulder.

"Dylan," he said as they walked through the doors, "I need to talk to you." 

Dylan gave him a short nod, following him over to a corner. His mom had started crying again, for the third time that day, and he was happy to avoid it.

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