They're pushed close twice, making it one of the most memorable weekends of their lives.
It had been a month or so since the first week of school and since then Brendon had come even closer into their little group/band. They’d had practices at Ryan’s house four times a week, sometimes on Sundays, and those were the ones that Brendon always had to miss. Then there was Brent who also missed, quite a bit, but it wasn’t ever on a regular schedule. There was nothing that could be done about it, though, so Ryan didn’t bother himself with getting upset.
The four of them made Brendon the lead singer one day when Ryan lost his voice. Brendon was singing his back up parts and his voice was coming up over everything else without inhibition, until he realized that everyone else had stopped playing to listen to him. Ryan had been thinking about the matter since that day that he heard Brendon on the piano after school, but the events of that practice convinced him. Ryan really didn’t care, he liked his voice well enough, but Brendon’s voice seemed to fit the music better.
School was going well, the other day he’d gone to the office to find out that he qualified for early graduation at the beginning of the second semester after Christmas. Ryan was considering taking it because it could be a good idea. He’d always been semi-interested in some of the college classes that were offered and his ACT scores had turned out really good so he knew he could handle it.
Everything seemed to be good, though, with the band. Everything was pretty good in his life, too. Everything was good except for that thing with his father and the court, but Ryan tried really hard not to think about that.
Everyone had stayed over at Ryan’s house on Friday, and now they were eating a little bit before rehearsal on Saturday. They’d just gotten inside from swimming because it was ridiculously hot outside, even for Nevada. No one really wanted to leave the pool but Ryan insisted because they needed to get some more practice time in. There was a song that he had ready to go that he really wanted to try out.
Of course no one listened to him until he started to make threats, though. Spencer knew that nothing would come of any of them, he just followed along because he realized that Ryan was getting frustrated. Brent was more amused than anything, and Brendon pretty much acted like a puppy that had been caught doing something bad, sheepishly crawling out of the pool and toweling off.
“So, Ry, when rehearsal’s over can we go out and swim again?” Brendon asked, looking at him with his wide, dark eyes that had a slightly pleading look in them.
Ryan was jerked out of his thoughts. “What? Oh, yeah we can if we get done before the temperature drops,” he answered. It was another weekend where everyone was spending the night. “But let’s go and rehearse now, everyone,” he said, standing up and moving to the music room, hoping that the other three were following. He wasn’t worried about Brendon, but Spencer and Brent liked to be difficult just to fuck with him.
In his favorite room of the house that wasn’t really his, Ryan got his guitar from a red armchair that he actually owned. The other three came into the room and went to their respective instruments. Well, Brendon just sort of stood there by the microphone, looking like he wanted to have something in front of him because he was multi-talented when it came to instruments.
When Ryan stepped up beside the singer, he nodded at Brendon, telling him to stay where he was with what he had. Ryan was trying to get the younger teenager out of his shell, get him to open up a little bit and just trust his talent. It was a little ironic but he didn’t care because he knew that Brendon actually had the potential to be open.
There were two other songs that they’d already gotten familiar with and they ran through those ones first because they needed the polishing and Ryan was a perfectionist. On the last one though, Brendon was having trouble with the harmony in the bridge and he stopped everyone. “Ryan, how am I supposed to sing this part?” he asked, walking over to him and showing him the notes, pointing at the spot on the music sheet that he was having trouble with.
Ryan looked at it and opened his mouth to explain when he was interrupted. “You know, maybe if you showed up to more rehearsals you would know these things. This is something we went over last Sunday,” Brent said.
Brendon stiffened a little and he turned to look at Brent. “I can’t come on Sundays; you’ve all known that since I got into the band. And I’m at every other rehearsal.”
“Well obviously you can since you got this Sunday,” Brent countered. And it was true, Brendon’s parents said that he could stay the whole weekend and miss one week of church for once.
“I still don’t know how or why that happened. I have church on Sundays, normally my parents won’t let me stay or go anywhere. Trust me, if there was a way around it I would use it.”
“Have you actually looked for a way out of it? I mean, if this was really important to you you’d try to find a way out of the block that your parents put on Sundays.”
“Of course I have, I’ve explained to them how important each rehearsal is and that having to miss them all the time isn’t good but they don’t care. And every time I ask they just get frustrated.”
“That’s what you say.”
“What is your problem? Why are you convinced that I don’t care about this?” Brendon asked with a confused look on his face but an angry tone to his voice. His eyebrows were drawn together and his mouth was set in a tight line, but his eyes were flashing and he looked tense, hands clenching at his sides. Ryan watched, not knowing exactly what to do.
“Because you’re not giving a hundred percent, if you want this you have to want it. We can’t have people who don’t care enough to stick with it,” Brent said.
Ryan exchanged a look with Spencer to see if it made any more sense to him. It didn’t appear to. He was about to speak up in Brendon’s defense when Brendon shook his head, turned, and left the room, obviously pissed off.
“Let’s give him a chance to cool down,” Spencer muttered, setting his drumsticks down and looking at the door where the black headed teenager had just taken his leave.
“Great fucking job, Brent,” Ryan said, turning to the other teenager. He was kind of pissed off, too. None of that had been warranted. Ryan was okay with the Sunday thing because Brendon overcompensated by working hard on the days that he was there and Ryan understood that Brendon’s parents were the reason he was gone. Besides, Brent missed too and never for a good reason.
“Hey, I’m just giving him the heads up.”
“But he doesn’t need a heads up because it’s not a problem,” Spencer said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
“All he did was ask a question about how he was supposed to sing. He’s the singer, it’s important that he knows it. That whole thing was totally unnecessary.” Ryan sighed and looked back at the door. “I’m going to go get him,” Ryan said, removing his guitar strap and setting the instrument down against the wall.
He wasn’t exactly sure where he should look first because he knew that the music room was Brendon’s favorite part of the house. On a hunch, he went to the back door that led out into the backyard with the giant pool that Brendon also seemed to be in love with. Sure enough, there he was with his shirt off, swimming trunks only, climbing the steps up to the diving board. Brendon still looked pissed, his face set in an unseeing glare, only focused on what was in front of him. Ryan found himself just stopping and watching to see what the other teenager was going to do, intrigued by the anger.
Brendon paused at the foot of the diving board and half-ran to where he jumped at the end, once, twice, the third time getting well above the water. There he twisted so he was pointing down and he disappeared under the water with a small splash and a large ripple effect. Ryan was impressed and he went outside so that he could talk to Brendon as soon as he resurfaced. He had to let him know that no one else was mad at him for being gone and try to get him to come back inside.
A few seconds passed and Ryan wondered how big the other boy’s lungs were or what the hell he was doing under water that long. Then a few more seconds made it about a minute and counting since Brendon went under the water. Ryan knew that it wasn’t impossible for a person to hold their breath for longer than a minute, but he also knew that a minute was a long time to go without air.
Suddenly worried, he stepped closer to the edge of the pool and looked down into the clear water. What he saw made his stomach drop and his heart beat faster. Brendon was floating, motionless, on the bottom of the pool and there was a very small cloud of red focused just above his head. Ryan felt his eyes widen and he quickly pried his shoes off, stepping back and running to jump into the water with panic and adrenaline rushing through him.
When he hit the water, he had to go back up to get his bearings and see where Brendon was again. As soon as he had a grasp on things and he’d taken a gulp of air, he went back under with his eyes wide open and he began to swim down to the bottom of the pool.
The going was slow and the water was dragging at his shirt and pants that he’d insisted on putting back on when they left the pool earlier. Ryan only swam harder, though, because he knew he was running out of time to get down to the bottom.
When he actually got to Brendon’s unconscious body, he was running out of air. Nevertheless, he put his arms under Brendon’s and kicked up from the bottom. It should have worked, but Brendon was heavier under the water and Ryan was lighter than Brendon anyway, so he was dragged back down to the bottom of the pool.
His lungs started to burn and he let go of Brendon. He had to get some air, and then he would go back down to work on bringing the other boy up to the surface. Ryan looked down at Brendon then and saw the teenager’s usually expressive face blank with all of his limbs completely limp, and he was struck by the fact that Brendon was running on even less air and that bad things could happen if Ryan didn’t get him out of the pool soon. Ryan braced himself and wrapped his arms around Brendon’s chest, heaving him up and kicking as hard as he possibly could.
If he thought going down was slow, going up was much worse and the burning in his lungs got fiercer and fiercer so that he had to consciously keep himself from breathing. Eventually he was at the edge of the pool and he took one arm off of Brendon, pulling himself up first and reaching back down to pull the other boy out. Brendon immediately started spluttering and Ryan pounded on his back until he coughed up water and started breathing again, though he didn’t wake up.
Ryan drew in a few glorious gasps of air for himself before yelling, “Spencer! Spencer come out here!” Then, chest still heaving, he looked down at the black-haired singer lying there on his concrete, unconscious and bleeding. The gash on his head wasn’t that bad and it definitely wasn’t bleeding as much anymore, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t serious. He moved the black hair away from it and dabbed at it with the edge of his shirt.
Spencer came running out of the house with a wide-eyed look on his face, obviously having heard the panic in Ryan’s voice. When his eyes rested on Brendon, he froze and his mouth dropped open. Then he dropped to his knees across from Ryan. “How?”
“He jumped off the diving board and went straight down. He must have hit his head on the bottom or something.”
“How high did he jump?”
“I’d say he was about seven feet above the water. And he was in a completely straight line; he would have sliced through the water like it was nothing.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Wait, what the fuck are we doing? Why haven’t we called 911 yet?” Spencer asked looking down at Brendon then up at Ryan again.
“We’re not going to call 911,” Ryan said quickly but in that calm, definitive tone that Spencer knew better than to argue with.
“What the hell are you talking about? We have to call them. Brendon hit his head and is now unconscious. He could have a concussion for all we know; he should be checked out by a doctor.”
“No! He’ll be fine. If he doesn’t wake up in fifteen minutes we’ll take him to the hospital.” Spencer gave him a disbelieving look and it appeared that he was at a loss for words. “Look, Spence, what if we call 911 and as they’re on their way, Brendon wakes up and he’s fine?”
“He would still need to be checked out because he was unconscious from hitting his head on the bottom of a pool,” Spencer responded like Ryan was an idiot.
“I know Spencer, but you have to see what I’m saying. If we go to the hospital, the hospital has to notify his parents and they will forbid him from ever coming over again or having anything to do with us.” There were other reasons for him not wanting to go to the hospital but he didn’t voice them. Nobody knew about those reasons and he wanted it to stay that way.
Spencer seemed to be thinking about it, then he shook his head. “God, I can’t believe I’m going along with this. If something goes bad I’m not at all responsible.”
Ryan nodded, smiling a little because it was nice that his friend decided to trust him and let him deal with it. “Let’s move him inside and get his head cleaned up a little.”
“Yeah, we’ll get him dried off and put him on the couch or something,” Spencer said, then he seemed to look closer at Ryan. “You’re soaking wet, did you actually jump in and bring him up?”
“How else do you think he got out of the pool?”
Spencer studied him for a second, not saying anything. Then he snapped out of it. “Come on, you take his feet.”
The two of them lifted Brendon’s limp body off of the ground and carried him into the house. As they walked, Ryan saw that Brent was standing right there by the door, watching them, and he realized that he hadn’t noticed that Brent wasn’t there in the first place.
He and Spencer took Brendon into the living room with the TV and put him on the couch. Spencer got Brendon’s shirt and they sort of pulled it on after drying Brendon off with the towel that he’d used earlier, deciding to leave the swimming trunks alone. Then they took a look at the gash on Brendon’s forehead and they covered it up after rubbing some anti-bacterial cream on it. Spencer then forced Ryan to go change and when he came back Spencer was looking at the clock, biting his lip a little.
“Rehearsal is pretty much shot. I’ll just go make dinner or something. You’ve got hamburger right Ry? I’m thinking spaghetti.”
“Yeah I do, should be in the freezer. I’ll stay out here to watch him and make sure nothing bad happens,” Ryan responded, looking at Spencer. The other boy nodded and went out to the kitchen, soon followed by the sounds of pans crashing together as he pulled them out. Brent stood there awkwardly for a few moments before following.
Ryan looked at the couch and the limp teenager lying on it, chest moving up and down slowly and rhythmically. Brendon looked vulnerable just lying there with his eyes closed, not moving much more besides the breathing and the occasional twitching of his eyelids. It was completely different from sleep, too. Something about how still Brendon was displayed the fact that he was unconscious because of head trauma, and Ryan didn’t like the look of it at all.
For a reason that he couldn’t quite explain, Ryan felt sick to his stomach. He really didn’t want to go to the hospital and he really wanted Brendon to be okay because Ryan liked him. It was like Brendon understood things that Spencer didn’t quite get. The thought of having something bad happen to him was a little much for Ryan. “Come on Brendon. Just wake up and be okay. You’ve got to be okay for all of us,” he muttered as if that would revive the other boy.
Of course it didn’t do anything because his voice wasn’t magic. It was nice to feel like he was doing something besides just sitting back and worrying. He reached out to touch the other boy’s forehead because he remembered learning something about skin temperature and how it could tell if something was wrong or getting better. The skin was smooth and warm around the gash but cold everywhere else. The fact made sense but he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Ryan thought that it felt normal, though, so he sat back and breathed a little easier, trying to think of something else that he could do.
A few more minutes passed and his nervousness returned. He started bouncing his legs and whispering over and over, “Come on, come on, Brendon come on.” Out in the kitchen he could hear the sounds of boiling pasta and sauce and he could smell the progress. When the cooking was done, Brendon was going to have to be awake, and if he wasn’t, then they were going to the hospital.
Ryan just stared intently at the younger boy on his couch. Then something that he could only call miraculous happened. Brendon’s eyelids fluttered a little bit before they stayed up and his brown eyes were visible again. He grimaced and sat up a little bit, putting a hand onto his head. Then he looked over. “Ryan? Wh-what the fuck happened?”
“You got pissed and left rehearsal to go to the pool. I went after you and saw you on the diving board, jumping and going underwater then you didn’t come back up and after about a minute I went to go see what the problem was. You were unconscious on the bottom of the pool so I’m guessing that you hit your head on the bottom when you went down.” A small smile crept across Ryan’s face, but he bit it down.
“And how did I get out?” Brendon asked, then he looked closer at Ryan’s new clothes and the drying hair that was still stuck to his forehead in some places and his eyes widened a little bit. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he was trying to say something, then he simply said, “Thank you.” And before he knew it, Ryan was engulfed in a tight hug.
“How are you feeling?” Ryan asked when Brendon was back on the couch.
“I have a killer headache and I feel kind of weird but overall I think I’m alright. How long was I out?”
“About twelve minutes, give or take a few.”
“Oh thank God I’m not in the hospital. My parents would freak out and this friendship would come to an end.”
“My thoughts exactly, which is why you aren’t in the hospital.”
“Well thank you for not caring about my well-being enough to take me to the hospital and make sure that I don’t have a concussion. This friendship’s way more important,” Brendon said sarcastically even though he was grinning.
“Don’t mention it, and I’m glad you think so,” Ryan said with a smile, so glad that Brendon was alright.
“This is probably weird but I feel really tired. And like I said, this headache is slowly killing me.”
“How about you change your clothes and sleep for a while? When you wake up you can have some food or something, Spencer’s making spaghetti.”
“That sounds like I really good idea, Ross,” Brendon muttered trying to drag himself up but needing Ryan’s help for the last bit. Watching Brendon change was amusing but he did try to help a little. When the other boy was in sweatpants and a t-shirt, he lay back down on the couch with a sigh.
“See you later Ryan,” Brendon murmured.
“Yep, now don’t die on me.”
“Not, a, problem,” the boy with black hair said, slipping off into sleep. Ryan remembered reading something about not letting people with head injuries sleep, but he felt bad for Brendon and was sure that he would be fine if he just got a little bit of sleep, so he left it alone.
“Ryan! Food’s ready!” Spencer yelled. With a small sigh and a final look at Brendon, he went out to the kitchen.
Much later, he was the only person awake. Both Spencer and Brent had fallen asleep and Brendon was still sleeping. Ryan refused to sleep, even though he was exhausted, because he had to make sure that Brendon was okay. He was starting to think that letting him go to sleep was a bad idea.
Ryan felt a stirring beside him then and he looked over to see Brendon roll over, almost onto the floor, and stretch, finally opening his eyes and smiling in a way that was much too perky for that time of night. “How long have I been asleep?” he asked.
“About five hours. Now quiet down so that Spencer and Brent won’t wake up and I can sleep,” Ryan said, lying down and settling on his side. As he closed his eyes he gestured to the kitchen. “There’s some left over spaghetti out there for you if you’re hungry.”
He heard Brendon get up and go out to the kitchen while he fell into a light doze and after a while a nice sleep. Who knew how much later it was when he was being shaken awake. “What?” he groaned, still partly asleep.
“I’m not tired.”
It was Brendon who was waking him up. “Then entertain yourself until you get tired. I am tired though and I would like to sleep so I can function tomorrow, or later, without killing someone.”
“Ryan please, I’m not good at entertaining myself. Please, just stay up with me?”
Ryan cracked his eyes open at the tone just so he could glare at Brendon, but he was stopped when he saw the pouting look on Brendon’s face. He groaned again and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m waking up for you.”
Brendon just grinned. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Ryan grumbled.
hey stayed up and Brendon talked to him until he actually woke up, then he inputted more and they had more of a conversation. It was nice and Ryan didn’t mind so much the fact that he wasn’t getting any sleep. Actually it seemed like the longer he was awake and the more he talked to Brendon the more energetic he felt. He figured that it was just a Brendon-thing.
When the clock showed 5:00 he accepted the fact that he was going to have to try and be pleasant to be around with only forty-five minutes of sleep. Brendon smiled at him nervously with a hidden apology and Ryan figured that everything was going to be okay.
Brendon felt bad for keeping Ryan up all night because he could see how tired he was, but it didn’t look like Ryan minded too much after the first hour or so. When the sun rose again, Brendon had gotten up to get some cereal and he figured that he would be nice and get some for Ryan, too, as a thank you because he had a lot to thank Ryan for.
When he got back from the kitchen, he saw Ryan flipping through channels on the TV and he set one bowl down on his lap. Ryan looked up at him and smiled a little. Brendon just smiled back and sat down beside him, moving close so their sides were pressed together. “Thanks.”
Ryan smiled at Brendon and swayed a little to the side so their shoulders bumped, “No problem Bren.”
They ate their cereal and watched the news for a while until Spencer and Brent started waking up. No one really wanted to have another rehearsal so they decided to just relax. Brent had to go home eventually and the remaining three stayed in the living room playing video games for hours.
At the moment, Brendon was in the music room, sitting at the piano and playing idly. Ryan and Spencer were back in the living room, still playing video games and he intended to go back out and join them at some point, he just wanted some alone time for a while. Then there was a knock at the door and he looked up to see Ryan standing in the doorway.
“It’s probably stupid that I’m knocking on a door in my own house but you looked so absorbed I figured I might scare you if I just came in and started talking,” Ryan said, walking into the room with a few sheets of paper in his hand.
“Well thanks for that,” Brendon said, eyeing the paper.
Ryan noticed. “Um, this is a new song that I wrote and I wanted to hear you sing it. I don’t have a lot of the instrumentation worked out but I have the melody markings so you actually can sing it,” he said holding the paper out to him.
Brendon took it and looked at some of the words. As he read more he felt something hard settle in his stomach. He looked up at Ryan. “A-are you sure you want me to sing this?”
“Yes, now stand up, I’ll play the piano part,” Ryan said quietly, pushing him off the piano bench and sitting down. He wasn’t looking at Brendon. He kept his eyes trained on the keys and it didn’t look like he was going to look up. He just pressed down on some keys and started playing a bouncy, but dark sounding melody.
“The I.V. and your hospital bed, this was no accident this was a therapeutic chain of events,” Brendon sang and he continued, practically cringing when he got to the part about bruises. He sang the whole thing complete with the marked repeats and the song went out to the same dark, bouncy melody. When the notes faded, he looked at Ryan.
The other teenager was sitting at the piano, hands resting on the keyboard, long fingers straight and limp. It looked like he took a breath before putting his head up and looking over with an obviously fake smile. His eyes were clear for a minute before Brendon saw the pools of water in them and Ryan ducked his head down again muttering, “Damn it.”
Brendon went immediately to the piano bench and sat close to his friend. “Ryan? What’s wrong?”
Ryan ignored him and wiped at his eyes. He muttered, “Goddammit I’m such a fucking girl.” Then he wiped at his eyes again, coming back with more moisture, little pools of salty water on his hands. The skinny boy got up and went to sit in one of the chairs that were in room, putting his elbows on his legs and covering his face with his hands. He was breathing deep and Brendon could tell that he was trying to hold back the moisture that was pooling up in his eyes. It seemed that Ryan was fighting a losing battle, though.
Immediately Brendon got up again and went to sit in one of the other chairs. He saw Ryan’s shoulders shake a few times and he realized that he was actually seeing Ryan Ross cry. It wasn’t like it was that strange that he hadn’t seen it before—boys didn’t generally cry—but he’d always seen Ryan as invincible, made of diamonds or something else that was unbreakable. He had never imagined seeing something like this.
“Ryan? That song…?”
“Yes, it’s true and it has to do with me,” Ryan answered, wiping a hand across his face again and holding back a sob. It didn’t stop the tears from running, though. Brendon stayed silent, waiting to see if there was anything else, and if there wasn’t, just to be there to be whatever support he could be.
“M-my mom died when I was really little, I’m sure it was because of him. He drank all the fucking time, the smell of that damn stuff sickens me, and he would, he would hit me,” Ryan choked out between deep breaths. Then a new wave of tears came and he stopped talking, ducking his head back down. Brendon moved closer and put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder.
“I-it happened every single day or night, sometimes both. Some-sometimes he wasn’t even drunk. He hated, hell, he still hates, my guts. H-he hit me, kicked me, pushed me in-into things, hit me with other things, and th-threw things at me, it was like I wasn’t even his son. I grew up in Hell, I-I never knew when it was g-going to come and it always seemed worse each time it did,” Ryan stopped again. Brendon abandoned the hand on the shoulder to completely wrap his arms around the other teenager, holding tight.
“There-there were a lot of times that he would pass out and it was d-diff-different from other times so I could tell that he’d been d-drinking heavily. The-then I would call the hospital and I would go too and he would have his stomach pumped. And the n-next day he would check out, and we would go home and-and then he would hit me some more.” Ryan sniffed.
“He’s responsible for s-so many bruises and scars. It went on for years and no one ever knew. Spen-Spencer doesn’t even know. The two of us were a good team that way I guess, w-we both hid it. I w-wanted to tell someone but I didn’t at the same time because of all the le-legal stuff that would happen,” he drew in a shaky breath and more tears ran down his face.
“B-but it all had to end of course. When I was fourteen he broke some of m-my ribs before school. Spencer had to be there early so I was walking alone. My chest burned but I-I didn’t know that they were broken and going to school was better than being around him. Those boys that were harassing you that first week of school, they were messing with me at the time and they-they started chasing me. When I lost them, I could barely breathe and I fell down and the burning in m-my chest was worse,” he stopped again to breathe and to refocus, the tears weren’t really coming anymore, they were drying. Ryan was forcing them back.
“I don’t know who did it, maybe one of the neighbors, but I woke up in the hospital. I woke up in the hospital gown, in the bed with an IV sticking out of my arm and my ribs re-set. There was a social worker that came in the room because obviously the doctors also saw all of the bruises and scars and cuts when they took care of the ribs. She asked me questions about my home life. It didn’t really matter if I talked or not because the way I answered gave a lot away by itself,” he drew in another shaky breath and Brendon could tell that the story was almost over.
“Through a long process and several court appearances, many of which I had to testify at, I was emancipated with protections from the government because I proved I could take care of myself. I was so close to foster care, though, and I don’t even know what I would do if I was there. My father, being the rich jackass that he is, paid to keep anything out of the press and he was made to give me money once a month and I’m the one who has to decide what to do with it as far as buying food and saving it up in the bank. He had the option of jail or going to some intense rehab center. He chose the rehab center, but I’m sure he bribed his way out of actually going.” Brendon had tears in his own eyes, swimming there and making everything blurry, he hugged Ryan tighter, feeling terrible for the other teenager, if he could even call Ryan a teenager anymore.
“That’s one of the reasons why I didn’t want to take you to the hospital. I hate them more than I can probably ever express, your parents would be told, and so would the people that are in charge of me. It would be proof that I couldn’t take care of myself or handle life on my own and my father’s lawyers would just use that to their benefit. Recently he’s been trying to get me back because I’m the only person he’s ever lost to and he has to remedy that. He says that he went through the rehab, and something like what happened to you would just be evidence against me. Those phone calls that I always get, that’s the attorney’s office or one of the people that oversee my case. My father isn’t allowed to contact me, he doesn’t know where I live, but he is allowed to have people relay messages.”
Brendon’s eyes widened and he hugged Ryan yet again, even tighter. “Well then I’m even happier that you didn’t call the ambulance and make sure that I was okay.” He figured that the strain of the legal battle was the thing that made Ryan look stressed out at school.
“There’s a court date set for next week, all day long, I have to miss school, and get a haircut. It doesn’t matter much though, since I’m eighteen and all, he’s probably forgotten all about that fact. They’ll still do the trial even though I’m an adult.”
“Am I the only person who knows about this?” Brendon asked. He was getting the feeling and he wanted to know if he was right.
Ryan nodded. “Don’t tell anyone else please.”
“Of course not, I wouldn’t do that,” he answered, shocked that Ryan felt the need to ask him that.
“Thank you. And thank you for singing the song. We’ll have to add other instruments to it but I like the way that it sounds right now, we can add the other things later.” Brendon nodded.
“So let’s go join Spencer. He might be awake now. I’m not sure how he could nap when he and Brent got the most sleep of us all,” Ryan said, standing up and retrieving his paper from the piano. When he turned around, his eyes were barely red and it was hard to tell unless Brendon was actually looking.
“Is it really okay that I miss all of these Sundays?” Brendon asked. Apparently he was still feeling a little worked up about that and this sudden burden of emotions made that pop out again.
“Yes it is. I understand. It’s okay with me. There are conflicts; we’ll just work around them. And you make up for it when you are here. You’re fine.” Brendon breathed a sigh of relief on the inside and smiled on the outside, glad for the clarification.
“What Brent said was totally out of line and I promise that Spencer and I don’t feel that way. Don’t ever worry about it,” Ryan said looked sincere and exasperated at the same time.
“I’m glad. Thank you.”
In the living room, they found Spencer asleep on the couch and Ryan just rolled his eyes. “Let him sleep or wake him up?” he asked.
“I say that we wake him up, he’s gotten plenty of sleep already.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Ryan said, looking down. He tilted his head to the side a little bit, then went around the couch and pulled the cushions off. “Wake up, you’ve gotten enough sleep for everyone here.”
Spencer jolted awake. “How could I have forgotten that this is what happens when I sleep around you and you haven’t had any?” He was rubbing his head, scowling at Ryan as Ryan innocently handed the cushions back for Spencer to replace on the couch.
“I think you’re okay Spence,” Brendon said.
“Oh do you? Are you ready to be around people again? You just disappeared there for a while.” Spencer stood up and glared at the both of them, not looking threatening at all. In fact, it looked like he was getting over the rude wake-up.
“Yep, I’ve had enough time away that I think I can handle more of you,” Brendon answered with a cheeky grin.
“At least you’re not dead. I’m still not so sure that you shouldn’t get your head checked out just to make sure you didn’t damage something really important up there,” Spencer said, scowling at him.
“I’m pretty sure I’m okay. I feel fine. And trust me; it’s a good thing for everyone that my parents don’t know about that, particularly my mom.” Brendon shuddered even thinking about it. His mom would probably lock him in the house and keep him from ever leaving again. His dad, on the other hand, would probably shrug and point out that Brendon was still alive and functioning, so obviously fine.
“Let’s just forget about it now, it’s over,” Ryan suggested. Brendon and Spencer agreed.
That night, Ryan drove him back home and as Brendon reached to open the door, Ryan pulled him back and hugged him. “Thank you, it’s nice that someone knows.”
Brendon hugged back. “It’s safe with me,” he answered.
“See you tomorrow Brendon,” Ryan said when he let go and sat back in the driver’s seat.
“See you then,” he said, getting out of the car and shutting the door. He waved a little and Ryan waved back before driving off.
Brendon took a breath before turning back to his house and walking up to the door. It had definitely been an eventful weekend, not like any of them had planned, but very eventful. He almost drowned and he learned about Ryan’s childhood and why he was so stressed and irritable lately. It was all still circling around in his head and Brendon knew that this weekend was going to be one that he remembered for a very long time.
Wow, it's weird to read and edit these first chapters since I'm currently working on chapter 14. Yeah, this is a little late because I've been really busy for the past couple of weeks, but it's here now. This chapter is also really important, even if it seems kind of random. Thank you to those of you have decided to stick around, I promise it pays off. =) And, welcome, to any new comers. YouTube>> http://tinyurl.com/8o9llbb