FicWad

Everything did turn out alright. Our lives went on and it was surprisingly not awkward. You know how when you tell someone something really personal about yourself and then being around each other is uncomfortable because of the huge elephant in the room? It’s been about a week and it isn’t at all like that. Thank, God.

Now that everything was out in the open, I slept better. I hadn’t slept peacefully through the night in weeks without waking up at two in the morning, a thin layer of sweat covering my forehead from the nightmares I endured. Those terrors morphed into something slightly more pleasant.

I came home to find Brendon playing guitar on my bed. His voice just as sweet and perfect as the first time I had heard it. I tiptoed over and sat down carefully beside him. I buried my face in his neck and laid a trail of kisses down his throat. His strumming ceased and he placed the acoustic at the foot of the mattress. He pulled me towards him so we faced each other and pressed his lips to mine. As my fingers tangled in his hair, his touched the hem of my t-shirt, tugging it up and over my head. His was off in a moment as well and I pushed him onto his back, propping myself up on my elbows just inches above his face. He smiled his half-smile and I blushed before kissing him. His hands trailed down my bare back. I bit his lower lip earning a smile from him beneath my mouth.
Drawing my legs up, I straddled his hips allowing my hands to journey to his jeans. I looked up at him for permission, he nodded slightly and I unbuttoned his pants and drew the zipper down, sliding my hands beneath the waistband of his boxers…

I awoke with a jolt as I heard a rapping on the glass of my window. Leaning over the edge of my mattress, I glanced at the glowing crimson characters on the clock that read 11:23 pm. My heart started pounding with adrenaline as I thought of a possible serial killer just outside. Against my better judgment, I got up and peered outside. Seeing the face behind the pane, relief washed over me. Opening the window, I whispered, “Brendon, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I need a place to stay,” he told me, passing me a duffel bag then climbing through himself.

“What happened?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

Settling next to me, he muttered, “My parents kicked me out.”

“What?” I said a little too loudly then covered my mouth and held my breath, listening to see if my dad was getting up. I heard him snoring from down the hall and then whispered, “What happened?”

“I told them I wanted to leave the Mormon Church so they said to pack my crap and get out.”

“I’m so sorry, Brendon,” I said as he leaned his head on my shoulder. Turning my head, I kissed his hair.

He lifted his head and looked at me. “Me too, Ry,” he whispered, his voice thick as tears began to fall down his cheeks. I lifted his chin and pressed my lips to his. His arms slipped around my waist and held me tight. He broke away and buried his head in my neck.

“Let’s worry about this tomorrow,” I told him. I felt him nod as we scooted towards the head of the bed. He lay down next to me and I wrapped my arms around him, and kissed his neck. His breathing slowed and we fell asleep.


I had filled Spencer in on the whole situation and he said that he would have Brendon stay at his house, but there’s no room and he didn’t think that his mom would be too happy to find Brendon sleeping on the couch. They already have four mouths to feed on one real paycheck. I told him, I had decided to let him stay at my house.

“How’re you gonna tell your dad?” Spencer asked as we walked to the cafeteria.

“He doesn’t have to know,” I told him.

“Ryan, come on. This cannot possibly end well and you know it.”

“What am I supposed to do, Spencer? Brendon doesn’t have anywhere to go,” I defended.

“You honestly think that your dad isn’t going to notice someone else living in his house?” he remarked sarcastically.

“He’s passed out three quarters of the time. The only thing he notices is his fist in my face.”

Brendon told me there were still a few things at his house he needed to get, so we went after school. He assured me no one would be home, but I was still tentative about sneaking in.

“Relax, Ryan,” he said, digging his key out of his pocket. “Just hoping they haven’t changed the locks,” he added, sticking his key in the door.

“They would do that?” I asked.

“Most likely,” he admitted, turning the knob. “Not yet, I see, though. Let’s go.”

Brendon opened the front door and we hurried up to his room. I stood at the door while he gathered more clothes and a few books.

“What exactly happened, Brendon? I mean, they kicked you out just because you didn’t want to be Mormon anymore?” I asked as he packed.

“My family is very devoted to their faith and only associate with people who believe what they do. If someone leaves the faith, they shove them out of their lives. It’s like the Amish with them,” he explained.

“Oh. Are all Mormons like that?”

“No,” he laughed. “Just my parents. Lucky me, right?” After a moment he asked, “Is your dad still Catholic?”

“How did you know we were Catholic?”

“Didn’t you go to Catholic school up until this year?”

“Oh, yeah,” I recalled sheepishly. It felt like years that I’d been back to my old high school.
“I don’t know. He says he is and he still drags me to church sometimes, but I don’t think he believes in that kind of stuff anymore.”

“Do you?”

I looked down. I wasn’t exactly expecting to have an in-depth conversation about religion with Brendon, but I guess it has played a huge part in our lives. I shook my head. “Not anymore.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want,” he said, zipping up his bag.

“No, it’s fine, it’s just… it’s hard. After my mom died, I held on to the hope that she was in a better place and she was with God and watching over me. That even though she was gone that she was still with me and would protect me. If I had no one to talk to I could talk to God and He would always be there for me.” I paused. I bit my lip and swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. “But when my dad started drinking and he started hitting me, I would cry and go to God for help, that if He was really there He would take away the pain. I felt like the little girl in Forrest Gump praying to God to make her a bird so she could fly far far away,” I smiled, fighting the tears. “But I never got my wings.

“When God couldn’t help me, I went looking for something that would. I found it in a tiny piece of metal,” I admitted not daring to look up. Instead I glued my bleary eyes on my fingers that I wrung nervously. “Some people pray. I cut.”

Brendon had stopped packing a while ago. I felt his eyes on me, taking in every word. He stepped towards me. “What happened to your mom?”

“She killed herself when I was five. I found her. And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I had her strength to get out while I still could.”

“Ry,” Brendon whispered, his voice shaking. He brought me towards him and wrapped his arms around me tightly. I stopped holding back the tears and they flowed down my cheeks, staining Brendon’s t-shirt. We stood there for a moment, before I told myself to pull it together. I pulled away and wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands.

“We should go,” I said. Brendon nodded, his eyes red and damp. He turned to pick up his bag and we left, closing the door on our way out. Needless to say, it was a quiet ride to my house.
When we arrived, we got out of my car and I grabbed my key from my pocket. Reaching my front door, I unlocked it. As Brendon moved towards the knob, I stepped in front of him.

“What?”

“Rules.”

“Seriously?” he asked sarcastically.

“You have to promise me that, no matter what you see or hear, you cannot intervene. My dad can’t know you’re here. He’s already suspicious of me being… you just can’t. Promise me.”

“I promise,” Brendon said tentatively.

“Ok,” I said, stepping aside to let ourselves in. Brendon would be staying in my room to make absolute sure that my dad wouldn’t find him. This concept, of course, was welcomed by both of us. I brought out the air mattress and put some blankets on it for him as he unpacked some of his stuff. As I grabbed some of my books from my backpack, I felt Brendon behind me. He pressed against me and I felt his warmth through his thin cotton t-shirt.

“There’s no rules against this,” he kissed my neck, “is there?”

I smiled, setting down my bag. “No.”

“What about this?” He turned me around and kissed my jaw, then brushed my lips. I cupped the back of his neck and twirled his hair between my fingers.

Between kisses I managed to say, “Absolutely not.” The pressure of his mouth forced my lips to part. I flicked my tongue over his lips and then slipped it into his mouth. He did the same and continued to kiss me slowly, his tongue gliding past mine. A low moan escaped from deep in his throat. Twisting a fistful of his shirt, I tugged him down on top of me as I fell back onto my bed. He had my arms pinned down above my head with one hand as the other slipped up my shirt.
His fingers trailed up my stomach and slid around to my back.

We were interrupted by a slam of the front door. I jumped up and pushed Brendon toward my
closet. “Hide,” I told him.

“How ironic,” he muttered.

Reaching the kitchen, I saw my dad standing at the counter. “Hey, dad. You’re home early.”

“Yup. I have to go see a client at five. Mind making your old man a sandwich?” he asked. Don’t be fooled. My dad has better days than others; you’re just experiencing one of his rare good days. I wasn’t going to waste the little time I had with him while he was still himself.

“Yeah, sure,” I grinned eagerly. “Peanut butter okay?”

“Sounds great,” he grinned tiredly, a web of wrinkles spreading from the corners of his mouth. I quickly made the sandwich as he went through the mail.

“Here you go,” I said handing him the plate, licking the knife I used.

“You know I’m trying, right, Ryan?” he asked, catching me off guard.

“Yeah, dad,” I whispered. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Ryan. I’m so sorry,” he told me, bringing me into a hug.

“You’re going to be late for your client,” I told him as we parted, wiping my damp eyes. Way too much crying for one day.

“I’ll be back later,” he promised before walking out the door, sandwich in hand.

Those rare moments when I can just spend some time with my old dad were priceless. Alcohol just fucks him up so much and it sucks because he has no idea what he’s doing. I hear him crying at night sometimes when he gets home. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me during these rare moments. He’s tried rehab a few times and it works for a while, but he always seems to go back to the bottle.

Walking back to my bedroom I told Brendon my dad was gone.

“Hey, Ryan, look. I’m coming out of the closet,” Brendon laughed as he stepped out.

“Ha ha,” I said, sarcastically.

“Now where were we?” he asked, pulling me in against him kissing me full on the mouth, tugging on my hair.

His lips made everything disappear. It’s scary how one person can make you feel so disconnected from the world. You can really lose the sense of who you really are when you do the simplest things with them; even just gazing into their eyes makes you lose yourself. I suppose it’s a good thing. Being so completely in love with someone and knowing they feel the same. At the same time, it sort of sets you up for inevitable heartbreak. I guess when you fall in love, not like you have a choice, but you automatically accept your vulnerability. You’d give up anything and everything to be with that person, do anything and everything for them. They mean the world to you and you can’t imagine your life without them. You submit your power to them with or without the knowledge that they can make or break you.

When you put your whole heart into something, it’s always a risk. No matter what it is, whether it’s love or a passion. Be it dropping out of college to pursue an unconventional career or traveling halfway across the globe for love. You never know if it’s going to work, but maybe, just maybe, if you believe in it enough, it will.

What Brendon and I have… I’ve given my entire being into it. I am no longer the owner of my own heart anymore. It’s at the mercy of Brendon, but I trust him completely.

He is the reason why I’m still here.

Those crazy teenagers in so-called love, they’ll never make it.

Bitch, watch us.