24Dylan
“Where are we going?” Callum asked.
“You’ll see,” Dylan said.
He was carrying a rucksack slung over one shoulder as he held Callum’s hand and led him up a steep hill that was about a twenty-minute walk away from the flat. Ever since Callum had spoken to his mum and sister on Thursday, Dylan had been trying to figure out how to help the man he loved forgive himself for the things he’d done when he was a teenager. Now that it was Sunday, and they had an evening off together, he was going to put the plan he’d come up with into action.
They walked to the very top of the hill. It was a lot colder at night now than when they’d first met, even though it had only been a few weeks. The breeze pinched Dylan’s cheeks and he could see the faintest traces of water vapour as they breathed. The leaves were starting to turn shades of gold, red, and brown, and it wouldn’t be long before they dropped completely, leaving the trees bare. He wondered if they’d get snow that year. The hill they were walking up was great for sledding down.
“It’s lovely up here,” Callum said, once they reached the top.
It really was. The city stretched out before them, the twinkling lights of buildings and streetlamps not dissimilar to the fairy lights in Dylan’s flat.
As Dylan crouched and opened the rucksack, Callum clamped his hands under his arms and watched with interest. The first thing Dylan pulled out was a large picnic blanket, which he arranged on the ground so they could sit. Next, he pulled out a pad of plain paper and a big marker pen, followed by an old metal pan and a lighter.
“I’m confused,” Callum admitted.
“Marshmallows?” Dylan asked, pulling the final two things out of the bag—a big packet of giant marshmallows and some bamboo skewers.
Callum laughed. “You brought me up here to toast marshmallows?” He looked at the pan and the lighter doubtfully. “Over what?”
“Our regrets,” Dylan said with a dramatic voice.
He sat on the mat and grabbed the pad of paper and used the marker pen to write, ‘I wish I’d told Dad I loved him when they took me away.’
“What did you say?” Callum asked softly.
“That I hated him.” Dylan sniffled as he crumpled up the piece of paper and put it in the pot. “Your turn.”
Callum sat beside him. “This is a crazy idea, do you know that?”
“Yes. Will you be crazy with me?”
Callum took the pen and paper and then sat with the marker poised over an empty page for several long minutes. Dylan kept quiet, giving Callum all the space he needed to think about what to write. When Callum’s eyes brimmed with tears, Dylan longed to hug him close but he held back.
Eventually, Callum wrote, ‘I wish I’d walked away from my toxic family sooner.’He folded the paper neatly and dropped it into the pan alongside Dylan’s regret.
They swapped the pad of paper back and forth, writing down regret after regret. It wasn’t long before they were both crying, and fat tears were rolling down their cheeks.
Dylan’s regrets were all centred around how unlovable he’d felt until Callum had walked into his life. How he felt he hadn’t tried hard enough to fit in with each family he’d been placed with. That he wished he’d never slept with Billy. He had other regrets too, about teasing Jag and being mean to Kyrone about Jared. Writing them out was incredibly cathartic, screwing them up and putting them into the pot even more so.
Unsurprisingly, Callum’s regrets were either about his family or the things he’d done while he’d been acting out—all the stupid, dangerous, and illegal things, ending up in a detention centre, and having a criminal record.
“How are you feeling?” Dylan asked as he opened up the bag of marshmallows.
“Raw,” Callum whispered.
“Yeah, me too.”
Callum hugged his arms around his knees. “Do you really think this will help?”
Dylan shrugged. “I hope so, baby. But maybe we could make a deal?”
“What deal?”
“We’re both a bit broken inside. Doing this is a good start to putting it all behind us, but I think we need some proper help. I think we should both pledge to get some counselling. Get our messy heads sorted out, so we can really move forward.”
Callum leaned his head onto Dylan’s shoulder. “I can do that.”
