FicWad

I was just waiting in my room, sitting on my bed. There seemed to be nothing to do around here anymore. When my mum wasn’t working, she of course made everything even more boring and routine. She continued to invite Duane and Mike over every other bloody day and insisted that the house be virtually rid of any speck of dirt. I didn’t think it really mattered anyways. There was no point- Duane and Mike only seemed to make everything even messier. So, I was forced to spend my time scrubbing floors, dusting and tidying up around the house.

Only joking. I basically spent my time locked away in my room, refusing to even get out of my bed.

I had been living in Las Vegas for exactly seven weeks. I still felt a little resentful– but mostly just bitter- towards my mum for displacing me from my already fine life in London. Especially for a man who was still living and doing god knows what else with his wife. I swear their relationship was going to end because of this. Something told me that Duane wasn’t actually planning on leaving his wife at all.

There were only three things that made my life worth actually getting out of my bed for.

Jas had started texting me again. The excuse that she made for our lack of communication was just a piece of garbage. She told me that her cell phone was cancelled. It was obvious that this was a blatant lie, since my mother once had to contact Jas’s mum through Jas’s cell phone. I shook it off, finally happy for my friend’s contact. She told me that everything back in London was alright, her father had been promoted and her granddad was living in a senior’s home. I asked why Harry hadn’t been answering his text messages, either. She didn’t reply for a while, and then told me that he had lost his cell. I thought that this was strange, and didn’t explain why he wasn’t answering my e-mails either, but, this was another aspect that I ignored.

The second thing was Ryan. He was my new best friend. I really hated the thought of replacing Jasmine as my bestie, but it seemed to becoming more and more true every time Ryan and I hung out. We were together every day he wasn’t working, and had sleepovers every weekend. I knew almost everything about him- most of his deep secrets, his aspirations, and his quirks- just like he knew almost all of mine. Of course he didn’t know much about my past. I rarely opened up to anyone about that.

I also hadn’t mentioned the fact that I thought he was the cutest thing on earth.

The last thing that made me feel better, never mind how surprised I was when I came to this conclusion, was Mike. Yeah, Duane’s nephew Mike. We’ve been on two dates already. One of them was forced by means of Duane and my mum, but the other one, he asked me. Both times we went for dinner and afterwards went for a nice walk. Of course you’d think it was repetitive, but it was as equally fun the second time. It was if he was a completely different person when he was with Duane than when he was alone with me. He was actually quite funny and rather interesting.

It’s not that I found him attractive, though. Well, he was good looking, but he was more of the friend type anyways. I couldn’t see myself having an intense relationship with him at all.

In fact, that was why I was sitting on my bed, in a nice summer dress with makeup lightly dabbled across my eyelids. Mike was supposed to come around tonight and pick me up for another date. I had suggested going to see a movie tonight since I wasn’t really in the mood to sneak off into the lady’s lavatory after dinner and rid myself of an expensive meal. I just felt too guilty.

I didn’t know whether to feel excited, anxious, or horrified. I stared at the ceiling for a bit, trying to pass time, attempting to not look at the clock. Mike was late. Fifteen minutes late, actually. I gave in, and glanced at my alarm clock. It hadn’t changed since the last time I had looked. Still fifteen minutes late. I shrugged and glanced outside for his beige car. I looked down at my pocket suddenly, feeling my phone rumble. I flicked it open and pressed the receiver against my ear.

“Hello?” I said. A muffled sneeze came from the other end of the phone. I smiled, automatically knowing who it was.

“Ugh. Hey.” Ryan sniffled.

“What’s up?” I slid back on my bed, smiling.

“Nothing. Just being sick.” He groaned. I suppressed the urge to laugh.

“Oh, Mister ‘Whatever, I’m not going to catch your cold, just give me a sip of your booster juice’, feeling a little off?”

I heard him snort. “Ha-ha. It’s Ok. It was worth it. Anyways, what are you doing tonight?” I looked avidly at the clock, and inadvertently shrugged.

“My mum’s making me go on another date with Duane’s nephew.” I didn’t know why I hadn’t bothered telling Ryan the truth. It wasn’t as if Ryan and I were a couple, nor were Mike and I.

“Oh, well, that’s cool I guess.” He paused, as if annoyed. “Well, want to do something tomorrow instead?”

“Of course.” I nodded while I talked. I heard the doorbell ring, and jumped up instantly. I tried to hide the excitement in my voice by talking in monotone. “Ugh. Sorry, Ry. I have to go endure another fun evening. But, how ‘bout you call me around midnight?” I asked, pulling on my flats. I heard a chuckle from the receiver. I gave an inward sigh of relief.

“Sounds good. I’ll phone you tonight. Bye.”

“Night.” I slid my phone closed and threw it into my purse, jumping up and jogging out of my bedroom door. I glanced back at my now messy and unorganized dresser. There were drawers pulled out with clothes and brushes sticking out of the sides, and on top there were pictures, perfume, make-up, nail-polish, spare change, iPod wires, and two glasses filled with water. I still had to clean that up- it had been a long time since then. I shrugged my shoulders and continued leaping down the stairs. I opened the door, and a smiling Mike was waiting outside with a single purple wildflower. I knew that he had picked it just a few feet away, from my next door neighbor’s withering garden. I smiled, and gave him a hug.

“Thanks.” I smiled. He nodded, saying nothing, but preceding to smirk.


*


I threw my purse on my bed, and slipped my aching shoes off of my feet, kicking them into my overfilled closet. I flung myself onto my bed, face down. I grabbed my hair by the roots, and pulled slightly, kicking my feet in frustration.

Why?

The one syllable word had never held such angst and aggravation. It embraced my confusion and dissatisfaction with a firm, iron hand. Why did Mike and I have to go to the movie theatre? Why did we have to go see the movie that we did? Why did Ryan and Brendon some how sit in the two seats behind us? And even more importantly, why did I let Mike kiss me?

I sighed, rubbing my eyes once more, flipping myself over to lie on my back, facing the blank, mocking ceiling. I could still remember every word uttered, every awkward silence, every confused and sad glance from Ryan. I was shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was because my room was cold, or if it was because of my emotional overload.



I remembered being cold in the large, dark room, filled with people watching the images and characters dance across the outsized square canvas in front of them. Mike’s hand was caressing mine as I rested my forearm on the arm rest between us. I felt strange and awkward holding hands with someone who I only considered as a friend. I glanced down at our intertwined hands surreptitiously. I didn’t want to tell him, but it felt as if he was crushing my fingers. I shivered unintentionally, afterwards cursing the air conditioning.

Mike whispered, “Are you cold?” I shrugged. He released my hand and slung his arm over my shoulders. I feigned a smile at him, and then turned my head to the screen. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he never looked away from me. I wished that I was here with Ryan instead. He wouldn’t be staring at me like some creep- or crushing my fingers to dust. I shook myself mentally, and felt guilty for thinking of him here, while I was with Mike. But something made me grasp onto a still frame of Ryan in my head. I couldn’t stop wondering if I would be having more fun if I were here with Ryan instead. I turned back to Mike since he was still watching me. His head, rather quickly, swooped down in front of mine, his lips colliding into my own. My eyes sprung open in surprise. Once again, I felt angry and violated. Maybe that’s what I deserved for actually going on a date with Mike. It felt empty, and awkward.

I really did miss Ryan.

“Delilah?” I jerked my head away from Mike to search for the face that belonged to the familiar voice, just to make sure that I had heard correctly. “Delilah, is that you?” Brendon whispered, leaning forwards from two seats behind. My stomach gurgled uncomfortably. Ryan was sitting beside him, squinting down at me.

“Oh, h-hi Brendon.” My intestines flipped around and writhed as I saw Ryan’s sad face sitting beside Brendon. I neglected the image of Ryan once more, and faced Brendon. Mike was turned around also, facing them both. The woman sitting in between Brendon and I glared at me furiously, and I apologized.

“What do you want?” Mike asked rudely.

“Mike!” I was aghast. Mike gave me a dirty look and I slumped down a small amount in my seat. He then turned to Brendon with a scowl on his face. Brendon’s eyebrow was raised, and he was looking at Mike with a glare to match his own. I stole a pleading glance at Ryan, but it was no use, since he was facing the canvas screen with sudden interest. My heart stopped, and I was frustrated that I had declined being with Ryan to be with Mike.

“I was going to ask my friend a question- if that’s alright with you, sir.” Brendon’s voice was unnaturally cold and blunt, a tone I had only heard him use on Sally when he had had enough of her. But this seemed more cruel and frightening. Everything seemed to stop, the four of us ceased to talk. We barely breathed. I shifted uncomfortably, my gaze now set on Ryan. He remained stoic, and I was unaware of what emotions were whirling inside of him.

“Ryan?” I whispered. He looked at me, his eyes apparent with unhappiness. As soon as he had looked at me, he looked back at the screen. Mike snorted, unaware of the small connection that had just occurred between Ryan and I. I looked at Brendon, also oblivious to the small glance that may have seemed unimportant to someone else, but made my insides deteriorate.

“Right. Delilah, you’re still coming over to my house tomorrow?” He asked, his voice returning to its normal, lyrical fashion. I nodded to signify yes. He gave a blunt nod, and looked back at the motion picture. I turned around, facing the canvas sheet as well, sitting advertently as far away from Mike as I could. I brought out my cell phone and typed out a brief apology to Brendon.



It was getting rather late. I checked the time on my phone. Eleven thirty. All I really wanted to do was to apologize to Ryan. Maybe I could phone him. Or even text him. Anything I could do to make sure he knew I was genuinely sorry I was would do. Maybe I could I.M. him. I got up off of my bed and walked over to the computer sitting on my desk. Ryan wasn’t online. I sighed and crawled back into bed. I wanted to let him know that he meant more to me than Mike does. I wanted Ryan to be aware of the fact that before I had left with Mike, I would have done anything to be with him instead.

But I couldn’t. Even if I wasn’t feeling so nervous to contact him, I’d still be afraid to tell him these things. I’m afraid of some types of failure. Not the academic type. I had gotten used to trying my hardest, and it never really being good enough. So, I just gave up on effort. But, with Ryan, I had given effort. I had made time to be with him. But, things were slowly crumbling down around us, and it was entirely my fault. I laid my head down on my pillow, watching the clock tick slowly in an eternal circle.

My eyes fluttered open, and I blinked. I propped myself up on my arms. My phone was ringing, and I blinked, looking around my room for it. I reached for it, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I froze as I saw who was calling.

It was Ryan.

I looked at the clock. 12:08 PM. I looked back at the phone. I wanted to answer it, but I wasn’t sure that I should. I thought, Well, obviously he wants to talk to you if he’s calling. But, what does he want to say? What if he’s phoning to tell me that he never wants to talk to me again? You have to answer. If you don’t, then he’ll for sure think that you’re avoiding him. He knows you turn your cell phone off when you go to bed, so that excuse is out of the way. Either way, he’ll expect you to phone him back, and you don’t want to do that so- SHIT!

The three words that had never bothered me before burned themselves into the back of my eyes. One Missed Call. I sighed, and turned my phone off, and laid my head back on my tear soaked pillow.


*


I had begun walking towards Brendon’s house when dusk was just setting around the neighborhood. It was now pitch black outside and I had definitely been walking for at least an hour. I was sure that I was almost there. I wished that I had paid more attention so that I could reassure myself that I was going the right way. I recognized the odd house or landmark, but I didn’t know if this was because it was on the path to Brendon’s house, or if I had just passed it five minutes ago.

I wrapped my jacket around myself tighter, shivering. I turned the corner, almost tripping on uneven sidewalk, and as I did, I realized that I was on Brendon’s street. I hit my head in frustration.

I had passed his street about four or five times already.

I saw his blue house about a hundred yards away. I almost tripped once more on a sprinkler lying carelessly on Brendon’s lawn. I rang his doorbell and waited patiently at the white, windowed door. I saw Brendon’s silhouette come up to the door, and open it slowly. Chatter of numerous people and music playing lightly in the background greeted my almost frostbitten ears. I smiled as I saw Brendon’s tousled hair covering the frames of his glasses, and his familiar toothy smile.

“I was just about to call you. Come in, it’s pretty cold out there.” He grinned. I noticed how Brendon had an unusually attractive smile. I stepped casually into the doorframe, shuffling forwards so that Brendon could close the door behind me. “Anyways, I’ve gotta go keep an eye on everyone. Make yourself at home.”

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out. I stood on his welcome mat, shoes off, but I still had my jacket, mittens, and scarf on.

“What for?” He looked at me strangely, and then continued hurrying into the living room. I sauntered into the unusually busy living room, and sat on the couch I habitually sat on, not immediately recognizing anyone. I felt like a stranger in a household that I was in every other day.

I was looking for someone in particular.

I was planning on telling Ryan that I was sorry. I wasn’t going to care about the response that he was going to give me. I was just going to tell him that I maybe sort of liked him. I smiled excitedly. Finally, I had gathered enough courage to tell Ryan that I thought he was cute. I suppose it was a little step forward- but a step nonetheless.

I looked around at faces from our school, and some that I had never seen before. I slid off my mittens, and placed them on the side table. My mother thought it was silly for me to even think about bringing my mittens to Las Vegas, but I disagreed with her. I was usually always cold, even in the desert climate Nevada had. I looked around longingly for any recognizable people. I unraveled my scarf, playing with the ends. I saw Ryan, and my heart twisted into a knot.

He was talking with a girl.

Jealousy normally didn’t suit me, but it felt as if there was a dragon residing in my stomach, and it had reared its ugly head. Her face was close to his, and he had a devious smirk on his face. Her hand was resting on his shoulder and he was leaning against the back of an armchair.

Where was the shy, poetic Ryan that I knew? He looked rather seductive. I had to admit, I definitely thought it was attractive. But he was doing it for someone else.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she held her hands on his shoulders.

My heart was about to burst into a thousand pieces.

She brought her face to his, and I couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

My face was streaming with tears, and I didn’t know where to go, or who to turn to, or what to do. I threw off my scarf, and jacket onto the couch, and walked stiffly to the basement. I sat on Brendon’s bed, my thoughts whizzing around in my head.

Not again.

I didn’t understand why every time I told someone how I felt; they seemed to disregard it, like it was just a joke. This is why I was nervous to admit to Ryan that I liked him- because every time I did in the past with someone else- I just got shut down. I sighed and batted away a tear. Ugh. Why on earth did Ryan have to be so confusing? Only a few days ago, he was too shy to lay with me on my bed. And now he was putting on the ‘moves’ for some bleach blonde hussy?

The talking from upstairs was muffled, and I couldn’t understand anything anyone was saying- it was a dull buzz of excitement and gossip. My tears flowed like a stubborn faucet. Just minutes before, I was thrilled to finally have received enough courage to tell Ryan how I felt, ready to take a small risk, and now; I would give anything to just be home in my bed. In a world without boys and their complicated feelings. At least now I knew that he didn’t like me.

I just didn’t realize I could have gotten rejected without even talking to him.

I decided that I needed to leave. I got up, ready to march right up to the couch, get all of my stuff, and then leave this house. Brendon was already busy with his other guests. I couldn’t keep showing up and ruining his get togethers. I got to the bottom of the staircase and started climbing. I made sure that I had wiped away all of my tears before I got to the top. Even though it probably wouldn’t make any difference since I knew my face was all red and blotchy like a little piggy.

I stood on the top step, and took a deep breath. I opened the door with a creak, and the chatting regained its velocity. If had had even cared I could have listened in on conversations. I walked towards the couch with my head hung low. I traveled quickly, and reached for my winter clothes scattered carelessly over the couch. I threw on my jacket, wrapped my lower face and chin up with my scarf, pulled on one mitten, and- I was missing one mitten. I sighed. I looked around on the floor, and couldn’t find it anywhere.

‘Where on earth-?’

“DELILAH!” I wrenched my head up. I feigned a smile as Jon came trotting up beside me. The people around us looked to see why Jon was making such a commotion, but lost interest quickly. His smile faded as he got closer to me. His voice seemed to grow quiet. “Are you alright?” My grin deteriorated as well, and I shrugged. I hadn’t seen Jon so serious yet. It was strange. I felt like explaining it all to him, but I couldn’t.

“Oh, I can’t find my mitten.” I grinned when I saw Jon smiling at me.

“Oh you poor thing.” He laughed. I calmed down a little as I realized he must think that my sad facial expression was a joke. “Is it the pink one with little hearts on it?” I nodded my head ecstatically, smiling at his expression, still urging myself to forget about Ryan.

“Well, papa bear here,” Jon pointed at himself. “Knows exactly where it is.”

I laughed. “Papa bear?” Jon patted me on the back, and then walked off, familiar smirk etched onto his face. I watched him walk into the kitchen and stop at someone sitting in a dining chair. I moved my head a little further over to see if I knew who he was talking with. I grunted as I saw my mitten being held neatly in Ryan’s hand.

‘Oh, just splendid.’

His face appeared to be unhappy and solemn, looking at the mitt in his hand gently. Jon stood beside Ryan and patted him on the shoulder. Ryan looked up at Jon curiously. I saw Jon’s mouth moving, inaudible over the chatter of a couple sitting next to me. Ryan looked around the room. As soon as his gaze fell on me, he quickly snapped back to Jon, and offered him my mitten. Why wouldn’t he just come up to me? I snorted.

Jon’s hands rose in the air, and he backed off, and then pointed at me with his arm outstretched. He walked off into the main hallway, and Ryan sighed. He got up slowly and reluctantly from his chair, and I immediately wished that I was already walking home. I imagined Ryan kissing that other girl and I turned away from him, slipping on my jacket. I felt tears tangle themselves in my bottom lashes once more.

I heard Ryan’s voice sooner than I had expected. “Hey.” I wasn’t sure why he was whispering. He must have been right behind me since I felt his warmth against my back. I moved back only an inch just to be sure, and I felt my back touch his stomach. I finally faced him. I wiped a tear away casually, hoping that he wouldn’t notice.

“Hallo.” I was nervous all over again; the speeches in my head that were previously planned out were useless now. I really didn’t have much to say to him. I couldn’t look at him. I found sudden interest in my socks. I wanted Jon, Brendon or Spencer to be here to break the awkward silence that Ryan and I were sharing.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

Oh, right. Now you care. Bitter thoughts swam through my head. I nodded, reversing more. He offered my mitten to me. I took it quickly, daring not to look up at his face.

“Thank you.” My voice was barely a whisper. I almost thought that he hadn’t heard. I pulled on my last mitten and wiggled my fingers. I turned around and began to walk away.

“Do you really like him?” He asked suddenly. I froze in mid step, and turned around to face him once more.

“It depends who you’re talking about.” I shrugged. He was quiet once more. Presumably taken aback by my answer.

“Duane’s nephew.”

“Of course not. All of the dates we went on were forced and awkward.” I lied. “Besides, I don’t know. I think I might I like someone else more, but the feeling isn’t a mutual one- Obviously.” I added indignantly.

“Who is it?” He probed.

“Ryan, it’s private. Besides, I don’t want to talk about it.” I shrugged it off, backing up further away from him.

“Please?” His tone of voice didn’t make him sound like he was begging. His low, smooth voice was determined. I finally looked up at him. I hadn’t noticed how attentively he was staring at me. It gave me goose bumps. I sighed. Maybe I should just put it out there? Just in case? I more or less wanted to get it off of my chest.

“Alright. Well, I think I l-”

“Ooh, Ryan!” An irritating high pitched voice interrupted me. She was attempting to be cute by calling him out in sing song, but really, she sounded like an agitated crow. From behind Ryan, two gaudy hands covered each of his eyes. “Guess who!” Her fake gel nails seemed to bother me, as they made her petite hands cluttered. I assumed that this was the girl Ryan had kissed.

This was the girl he had feelings for instead of me. I rolled my eyes only to hide the tears that had reappeared. I left him there, and stormed off.

I was sick of feeling like this. I saw his eyes one last time as she uncovered them and craned her neck to kiss him on the cheek. I walked out the door, slamming it… accidentally. I began to cry quietly and I wrapped my arms around myself as a substitute for someone else’s. I felt more alone than I had on the way to Brendon’s house. At least on the walk here, I had something nicer than being let down, once again, to focus on. But, all I had was the image of Ryan in my head. I could feel my heart pounding angrily against my ribcage.

“Wait!”

Ryan shouted from Brendon’s front porch. He was jogging towards me. I rolled my eyes again. I was almost out of Brendon’s yard when it happened again. I tripped over the sprinkler that lay on Brendon’s lawn, falling face first into the bush that divided the two yards. I heard collective laughter from inside of the house. I struggled to push myself out of the tangles and brushed myself off. The group of people that were sitting on the porch barked with laughter as well.

Quicker than I could place my hands on my hips, Ryan was at my side. He had a sly smirk on his face.

“Here, let me just get those leaves out of your hair…” He chuckled and reached forward.

“Actually, for your information, I like them there.” I snapped, glaring daggers at Ryan.

He didn’t look surprised when I ducked out of the way of his reach and pushed his hand away from me. Actually, his grin grew. Which made me grow more angry. I shot a glare at the continuously laughing group of teens and then a more intense glare at Ryan.

“Just- I- Ugh. Bye.” I stuttered.

I was going to tell Ryan off, but there really wasn’t anything I could say. It’s not his fault he kissed some other girl. Well… maybe it was, but I didn’t want to deal with that bloody boy at that moment.

“Delilah, come on, don’t leave.” He soothed.

I gave him a small ‘hmph!’, turned on my heel, and walked away. I was hurt and embarrassed, and I didn’t want to have to suffer any further hurt or embarrassment.

“Delilah, come back.” He groaned.

I yelled, “No!” I started to walk as fast as I could without actually jogging, which probably made me look like a stumbling chicken.

“Stop walking for a sec!” He shouted.

I stopped and waited for him to catch up to me.

“What, Ryan?” The tone in my voice was almost as cold as the night wind.

“What’s wrong?” He was concerned. I rolled my eyes again and whirled around to look at him.

“It’s you.”

“What did I do?!” He threw his hands up in protest. I sighed.

“No no no no no. Nothing. It’s- I just-” I sighed. “I think I maybe sort of like you.” He was quiet. I was so curious to know what he was thinking.

“What about Mike?” He asked. My response was as simple as a shrug.

“What about him? I told you, I’m not interested in him that way. I’m not even sure why he kissed me. And please, you don’t have to pretend to like me back. I just don’t want things to be strange between us.”

“I don’t have to pretend.” He smirked. I grunted.

“Well, I mean- what ever you’re doing to be so attractive- just stop it!” I was frustrated, and instead of making sense and explaining what I wanted to say in a manner that he would understand, I mumbled out the exact sequence of words that plagued my mind. Ryan smiled.

“You’re cute when you get angry.” He said. I scowled, putting my hands on my hips. His smile widened.

“That’s exactly what I mean! You doing this-”

He spoke again, but I barely noticed, too immersed in what I was already saying. “I think I maybe sort of like you too.” His voice was quiet and diminutive, yet still masculine and calm.

“-sort of thing when you’re- what? What about that girl you were kissing? I-I didn’t expect you to say that.” He smiled, and then cutely looked down at my hand, and then back up at my face with a toothy grin. Up until now, I hadn’t noticed that Ryan had been moving steadily closer to me, and now he was only a few inches from my face. I barely moved a muscle. It wasn’t the cold that left me immobile, either.

I watched as Ryan came up to my face, and kissed my cheek lightly, letting his lips linger for more than a moment. I hadn’t noticed that he had grabbed my hands until I felt pressure on my mittens. The pain that he had created when he had kissed that strange thing- I suppose you could call a girl- ebbed away, and was replaced with elation. It was the feeling I thought I’d endure when I told him that I liked him, but ten times better. I didn’t dare ask about her and ruin the moment.

He pulled away, and asked, “Well, what’s on your agenda tonight?” I thought, placing my hand on my chin.

“Well, my mom didn’t say anything about me going home, but I guess I don’t have anywhere to go, either so probably just home.”

“Do you want to, maybe,” Ryan’s shyness was kicking in once more. “Come over for tonight?” I nodded, and then he started stuttering about how we needed to go back to the house and get his jacket and his car keys, but I linked arms with him, and started walking slowly back to the house. I barely listened to his cute rambling.

I was thinking of how strange being here had been, and how different it was from London. I accidentally squeezed Ryan’s arm as a strong gust of wind blew around us both. He slid his arm out of mine, and placed it around my waist, pulling me closer to him so that it might have looked like our hips were connected. I voluntarily leaned closer to him, so close that I could feel his heart pulsing rapidly. My stomach was dancing happily, and I was content.

*

“Ryan!”

I awoke suddenly to a lot of crashing pots, and clattering dishes from downstairs. The small TV in Ryan’s room was still playing The Blair Witch Project softly in the background. I rubbed my eyes sleepily and looked around the dimly lit room. Ryan’s arm was resting gently across my stomach. The light from the hallway was on, and through the crack in the door, illuminated only a small part of Ryan’s bedroom. I ruffled my hair impulsively.

Another clatter from downstairs. I was frightened.

“Ryan, wake-up.” I nudged him with my elbow gently. He stirred, but did not wake. Another crash came from downstairs, followed by an angry scream. My heart was pounding. He shot up, looking around, puzzled. His eyes were alert, and it did not look like he had just woken up at all. The only thing that gave it away was his mussed and unkempt hair. I looked at his strange expression, a combination between anger, confusion, and it looked like he was also afraid.

“It’s just my dad.” He said quietly. He didn’t look at me. My stomach churned with confusion and fear.

“Is he alright?” I was still looking at Ryan. He barely moved, and only flinched when his father called his name once more.

“Ryan?!” I heard unsteady footsteps come up the stairs slowly. Ryan jumped up, and grabbed my hand. He pulled me to my feet quickly, and rushed me over to his closet. He slid the door open quietly, and promptly. I opened my mouth but closed it when he guided me into his closet.

“Ryan, what on earth-?”

“Please, don’t be scared. Stay in here. Don’t look.” His voice usually calmed me, but his frantic and worried tone made my stomach clench. He slipped his closet door closed quickly, and I heard him jump on his bed, fluttering the covers around. The door swung open, and the light switch turned on. The artificial light streamed through the cracks in the closet door. I could see a stumbling man entering the room. Ryan was in his bed, pretending to be asleep. Mr. Ross slowly walked to the middle of Ryan’s room. His angry and sloppy stance said a lot, yet I was still confused. He was gripping my flats tightly in his hand.

“Ryan, what the fuck are these?” He yelled. I froze. My hand instinctively covered my mouth. He threw the shoes at Ryan, and my heart panged with guilt and fear. He sat up, and as soon as I saw his face filled with fear I knew that it would be burned into my memory forever. His dad bellowed, “Well?”

“I-I-I-” His dad reached forward and grabbed Ryan’s shoulder with surprising accuracy for his drunken state. He pulled Ryan’s face closer to his own, before pushing Ryan’s head into his pillow.

“Say there’s a fucking girl in this room somewhere; at least I’d know you’re not a fucking faggot. Tell me you’re fucking a girl, you homo.” I drew back so my spine touched the wall behind me, my hands covering my ears and my eyes scrunched together as tight as they could. I could hear inaudible shouting, and slurred swear words. My insides were mixing together in a guilt like state. My fear was overwhelming. I choked back a sob, and bit my lips together. I was shaking as I listened, absolutely horrified.

After an eternity, I felt Mr. Ross’s thundering steps as he paced down the stairs. Ryan’s clothes dangled in front of my face but I paid no attention to them. The entire house was silent. The closet door squealed in reluctance as I emerged, tears sliding down my face. Ryan was sitting on his bed with his face in his hands, completely oblivious to the broken lamp littering his floor. I carefully stepped around the shards of white ceramic. I stood in front of him, unsure what to do.

“Are you alright?” His quiet voice seemed to echo in the silent household.

My voice was almost as quiet as his, barely a whisper. “Don’t be worried about me.” I started sobbing quietly once more. I kneeled down in front of him, taking his hand away from his face and holding it gently in my own. I couldn’t look at him in such a sad state. He seemed beyond depressed. I turned around to face the adjacent wall, my face and shirt soaked from my own tears. I was so confused and angry.

“I’m sorry.” His quiet voice seemed to reverberate in my ears.

“Don’t you dare say that, Ryan Ross.” My words seemed simple, but it took a lot of courage and strength to say them. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I can’t let you stay here tonight. He’s coming back.”

“Ryan, you’re not staying here either.” I argued.

“I have to, or he’ll get mad.”

“Ryan. N-no! You can’t stay here. Please, just let me take you to my house, at least for tonight.” Frustrated and sad tears dripped down my cheeks.

“Please don’t cry beautiful.” He said. Everything stopped except the water flowing from my eyes. I looked at him. He was looking right back at me with his piercing chocolate colored stare. I wasn’t sure why he was so intent on making sure that I was alright. I reached over for his head and hugged it loosely, petting his hair for comfort. He leaned into me immediately. I kissed the top of his forehead, pressing my lips lightly against his skin. I stood up, hustling around his room, gathering a sweater, pants, shoes and a scarf for Ryan. I gently placed them beside him very careful not to toss them to him. I slipped my own shoes while waiting for Ryan to get ready. He passed me the sweater and I took it reluctantly. I was only wearing a pear of his boxers for pajama bottoms, and one of his oversized shirts for atop. I slipped into the sweater wordlessly.

For now, I just wanted to keep Ryan safe.