“My cape came loose!” Maya, one of the twins’ day camp friends, pulled on Dylan’s arm.
“All right, sweetie. I’ll fix it.” Dylan offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. All the kids were going nuts waiting for the performance to start. The classroom was full of kids in capes, whirling in circles, climbing on desks, pretend fighting, and singing the song from the group number. Getting them all into their costumes and lined up was taking about twice as long as the actual play would take. The play was a short little one-act production that he and Allie had penned about how all kids could be superheroes, hence all the capes and costumes.
“Now, you guys need to wait with Miss Allie while I go out and sign in your parents, okay?”
“Is Baba coming?” Chloe cut right in front of him.
“He’s going to try. But your grandmas are coming and that should be fun!” Dylan tried to soften the blow of Apollo’s possible no-show. When they’d talked last night, Apollo was still waiting to hear whether he could get time off approved for the afternoon. “Now let me go work the front desk, okay?”
“Okay.” She danced away with Maya, whose cape was askew again.
Leaving the kids with two other staffers, Dylan strode down the hallway that led to the front desk area where he had Allie waiting to check in the parents who were coming to watch the show. The process of checking IDs and signing people in and out could get tedious, but Dylan was all for safety measures for his campers.
Too bad you don’t have safety measures for your heart. Alone like this for the first time in hours, his brain sped back to thoughts of Apollo. Last night’s conversation about today had come very late and very naked—a not infrequent occurrence over the past two weeks. Apollo had been pulling a lot of late hours on some training project that was so highly classified all Dylan got were some vague grunts about its purpose. But in addition to being more tired, Apollo had also been a lot more attentive—hanging out with Dylan while he worked on stuff for the play, eating the food Dylan saved for him and talking while they cut out decorations or pressed seams.
And talking inevitably led to touching and making out and straight up to Dylan’s bed, but it was the talking that was most dangerous. Talking made him think that maybe this was real, maybe they could have a future together, because he’d never met anyone he enjoyed hanging out with more than Apollo. It didn’t matter whether they watched TV or laminated superhero masks—everything was more interesting with Apollo around. And he could feel himself relaxing in a way he didn’t with other friends. Something about Apollo’s solidity, all his rules and systems and routines, grounded Dylan, made it easier for him to do his thing, knowing he had that to return to.
But not for much longer. Apollo’s mother would be back end of next week, with Dustin due to return any day now too. July had sped by, and now he could hear the drumbeat of September drowning out what was left of August. They hadn’t talked about it, but Dylan knew that everything they’d built these past weeks was about to change.
“Hey!” Allie looked up from the desk as he approached. She finished signing in Maya’s parents and directing them to the gymnasium for the show, then turned to him. “Did you hear back from the interview?”
Dylan made a noncommittal sound as he looked at the log book—no Apollo or Marilyn and Pat yet. No offense to his friend, but he really didn’t want to talk about the job. He still hadn’t told Apollo about applying for it and that needed to happen—tonight. Tonight when the house was quiet and Apollo was relaxed, he’d bring it up. Gently. And maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal. Heck, as long as he was thinking positively, maybe Apollo would welcome the news. And then tomorrow morning, the task having gone much better than all his fears, he’d call Allie for a rehash.
Yeah, that was exactly how it would go down. He tried to visualize it the same way he did in a soccer game—imagined himself making the right play at the right moment.
“Dylan!” Marilyn and Pat bustled in through the double doors of the rec center. Marilyn’s long flowing vest flapped behind her as she asked, “We’re not late, are we?”
“Nope. Right on time.” His smile for both of them came easily—he genuinely liked both women. The quieter, efficient Pat and the more social, generous Marilyn were both easy to be around, and their adoration of the girls was clear. “You know the drill for signing in, right?”
“Of course.” Unlike some of the parents, Apollo and the grandmothers never argued with the safety procedures. Heck, the way Apollo fussed over the girls, it was amazing that he hadn’t suggested additional security measures.
“Did Apollo text you? He’s on his way.” Pat handed over her ID and signed the sheet.
“That’s great.” Dylan kept his voice and expression neutral. After all, it wasn’t him Apollo was coming to see, and any leap in his pulse needed to be because he was happy for the girls, period. “The play is down that hall—”
“I’m here.” Apollo rushed in. Dylan was never going to get tired of the sight of him in uniform, shiny black shoes and shiny gold belt buckle glimmering under the room’s fluorescent lights, and biceps bulging under the khaki shirt sleeves.
“Wonderful.” Marilyn hugged him. Dylan knew from experience now that Apollo wasn’t much of a hugger, but he always seemed to tolerate it with good humor from the girls and Marilyn and Pat. “I can’t wait to see what the kids have come up with.”
Apollo smiled at him, the warmth in his gaze melting Dylan’s resolve to be objective about his presence. “Dylan’s been working so hard on this. You’ll love the costumes. I’m excited to see all his hard work come together.”
The pride in Apollo’s voice was unmistakable, and Dylan couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so proud of him—not Dustin or his parents or a boss. And sure, Apollo had been around when he’d been working on this, but he hadn’t realized that Apollo had really seen him.
“That’s wonderful,” Marilyn enthused, reaching out to squeeze Dylan’s arm. Apollo’s tender gaze didn’t leave him, and for a shimmering moment, he believed everything might be okay, that he and Apollo could have a future together, that Apollo would understand about the job application, that all that affection meant something.
“The girls were practicing the songs when we had them last week for dinner. Sophia’s voice sounds so much like Neal at that age,” Pat said, eyes going soft and wistful.