Ryan's life is hell, with the exception of his longtime boyfriend Spencer. But when Spencer hurts Ryan in a way he never imagined, he finds comfort in an unexpected place.
“Ah, Mr. Ross, what a pleasure it is for you to join us.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Ann.”
“One more tardy, and you’ll have detention. Better stop chatting away with your friends
at least try to get here on time.”
Spencer shot a glare across the room at Ryan. This is all your fault the other boy's eyes seemed to say. Ryan wanted to curl up in a little ball and die. Why did he mess everything up?
Scrambling through the rows of seats, Ryan finally managed to find his own. Sitting down, he urged himself to ignore the taunting stares of his fellow peers and put on a whimsical performance of being completely absorbed into the cheesy school-supporting poster next to him. His exhibit worked, he noted, as he realized everyone had retreated their eyes back to something of more interest. Wait, scratch that. He still had that feeling, that peculiar I’m-being-watched-intensly-and-don’t-know-whether-to-turn-back-or-not feeling. Suddenly, as if to answer the growing pit of anxiety webbed inside his stomach, a folded paper flipped onto his desk. "
"Hi" Ryan scribbled back, quietly handing the note back to Spencer. "You're coming over tonight, right?" came the reply.
Ryan winced inwardly thinking about what had happened the last time he and Spencer hung out. Knowing his boyfriend would be very angry if he bailed on their plans, Ryan wrote back an affirmative reply, in spite of his fears of last night's events repeating themselves.
“Awesome, I can’t wait. I’ll make sure this’ll be a night you won’t forget.”
Ryan looked down at the note, and couldn’t help, but smile.
“Passing notes, Mr. Ross?”
“What’s this? Love notes? If Mr. Smith is that much of a distraction to you in my class, you can take your leave.”
Ryan stood up fumbling with his books and walked out to the hallway. Panic took over as his mind raced. What if Ms. Ann decided to inform his dad of his and Spencer's romantic involvement. George already thought his son was repulsively feminine; Ryan couldn't bear to imagine what would happen if his father found out that he was one of the "fucking fags" he so despised. Ryan sank to the ground, back to the wall, consumed with fear and despair.
"Ryan!" Ms. Ann's voice called from inside the rapidly emptying classroom.
Quickly regaining his height, said boy could barely stand in anticipation.
“George Ryan Ross,”, she started off.
How dare she call him by his full name. His name.
“I’ve taken notice that you haven’t been doing neither your class nor home work.”, he waited as blood curdled under his skin while she paused to intake a breath, “...And today, you just come prancing into my class like it’s some kind of musical AND even then, decide to disobey my rules and pass notes. What do you take me for, your mother?!”
Was this teacher really so fucking dumb?
Did she not know that you never ever call the Ryan Ross, George Ryan Ross?
Did she not know that you never even mention anything near the likeness of Sandra Ross?
Did she have any knowledge of the silent teen that sat in her classroom every day?
Ryan clenched and unclenched his fists in anger. How dare this woman speak of his mother. She didn't know what his life was like; she had no idea what she was talking about. Realizing he was finally dismissed, Ryan walked out the door, slamming it angrily as he did.
"I knew you weren't fine"
"Ahh! What the hell Brendon!" Ryan's heart beat slowly returned to normal after the shock of Brendon's unexpected appearance.
"Wanna tell me what's up now?"
"I said I'm fucking fine!" Ryan yelled, slamming his locker and walking away.
"Ryan!", Brendon shouted down the hallway as he ran to catch up. "Look, I’m sorry. Please don’t act like this."
"Like what?! I’m not acting like anything! I’m just being my fucking self!"
"Ryan...Okay, how ‘bout me and you go out tonight...Y’know, to talk things out?
"C’mon! We’re friends, aren’t we?"
Ryan stopped dead in his tracks. His mind fell into a tumble. They were friends. Why was he doing this? Closing his eyes and inhaling a great breath, Ryan turned back to face the worry carved Brendon.
"Sorry, Bren,...I, I really am busy tonight though. Spence’s taking me out."
"Ah, no, it’s okay, I guess. Well, if you ever need a friend, you know where to find me.", Brendon replied with a sympathetic smile, eyes gleaming with a slight essence of regret, and with a final flick of the hand, strolled off.