Gift for toasty_fresh

Jul 14, 2008 18:10



Part 1

And that screwed everything up all over again, of course. Chad couldn’t even meet Ryan’s eyes that night at dinner, kept feeling his face get hot every time he tried. He ducked out early and headed straight home, determined to pull out his under-the-metaphorical-mattress stash to stop himself freaking out.

It took less than ten minutes at his computer with the ladies of Casa Erotica IV and his right hand to reassure Chad that, yes, he still liked girls, and breasts were pretty much the best things ever. Satisfied, he tumbled into sleep, had a very vivid dream about playing chess with Ryan in a pool, and woke up sticky and breathless.

This set a disturbing trend. Actually, it was vaguely ridiculous. Yeah, he still liked girls - it was coming into summer, there was so much skin this time of year, Chad loved girls. He loved the rounded tops of their breasts, the way their hips swayed when they walked, the shape of their legs in heels, the soft girlish smell of them.

But then there was Ryan, and more and more Chad found himself noticing: the way he ducked his head when he was embarrassed, exposing the soft skin at the nape of his neck. The delicate bones of his wrists and hands when he folded his sleeves back. The way his mouth twisted when he wanted to laugh, but wanted to stay mad at the same time. Stupid stuff like that, that didn’t mean anything, that shouldn’t have stuck in his mind so much and caused him so much stress.

Monday at school was excruciating. Chad found himself answering Ryan’s innocent attempts at conversation with monosyllables, and managed to look at him only once during the course of home room, just in time to see Ryan’s hurt expression as his friends turned away.

Shit.

~

“I don’t know what I did this time,” said Ryan, fidgeting nervously, “But whatever it is, I’m sorry. If I, you know, made you uncomfortable or whatever.”

“I think we should make out,” said Chad.

Ryan blinked. “Beg pardon?”

“No, really,” said Chad. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He took step closer, and watched colour bloom on Ryan’s cheeks. “I mean, you kissed me at my party. You like me, right?”

“I,” Ryan stuttered, his eyes wide. “But you, you’re not. You said.”

Chad shrugged, a little uncomfortable. “Yeah. Maybe.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, and they stared at one another. “So. You wanna?”

“Why?” said Ryan. “What the hell?”

“I just want to see what it’s like,” said Chad defensively. “If it’s, you know, different.”

“Ah. An experiment.” Ryan looked away.

Chad coughed. “Look, never mind, I didn’t-”

“Okay,” Ryan interrupted.

“Okay, we’ll forget it, or okay, take me now?” You could never be too careful about these things.

Ryan shot him a withering look. “I have never in my life said take me now and I’m not going to start today.” He paused, sniffed and adjusted his shirt. “But, yes. If you want.”

“Awesome,” said Chad gleefully, and then paused. “Are you sure?”

Ryan laughed, sounding slightly hysterical. “Oh, yeah. Who am I to stand in the way of science? You want to experiment, go ahead.” He spread his arms wide.

“Hey,” said Chad, alarmed. “It’s not like that. I’m not - I wouldn’t use you.” He stepped forward and reached out, grabbing Ryan’s wrist.

“No, it’s fine,” said Ryan. “What are us pretty gay boys here for, if not for the clandestine whims of closeted jocks?”

“I am not closeted,” snapped Chad. “And I’m not - look, if you don’t want to, just say so.”

“But I do want to,” said Ryan tightly. “That’s the problem.” He pulled gently, and Chad realised he was still hanging on to Ryan’s wrist. “Come on, jock-boy. Let’s get your sexual identity crisis out of the way so I can go back to making fun of your sluttiness.”

Chad opened his mouth - to protest, to clarify, to keep on arguing - but Ryan kissed him then, fisted a hand in his shirt and brought their mouths together. It was clumsy - Chad was surprised, not expecting it, his mouth gaping open while Ryan’s was closed, Ryan’s body stiff and awkward.

Ryan pulled back after a moment. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” His mouth was wet, and he wiped it on his sleeve, avoiding Chad’s gaze.

“Maybe,” said Chad. “Maybe not.” He tugged Ryan closer. “Just… a little - come here.” Running on instinct honed from years of charming reluctant or shy girls, he touched Ryan’s face, running his fingertips over the smooth skin of his cheek, his jaw. “Okay?”

Ryan nodded, and Chad kissed him again, slowly. This, he knew how to do, and it wasn’t so different - slow and coaxing, careful, soft flicks of his tongue until Ryan sighed and relaxed a little.

They kissed for a while, and Ryan pulled back with a wet noise. “Different enough for you?” he said, slurred.

“Need more data for comparison,” mumbled Chad, and pulled him down onto the couch.

Ryan’s skin was hot to touch. Chad pushed him down onto the cushions and pressed his face against Ryan’s throat, set his teeth against his Adam’s apple, felt his pulse pounding steadily. He felt Ryan’s hands settle - one on the back of his neck, under his hair, the other tentatively at his waist, and smiled. Their mouths came together again, and Chad could feel Ryan’s uncertainty, the tension in his body, the shy way he kissed, like maybe he wasn’t entirely certain what he was doing.

The idea sent a thrill through him, and he pulled back a little, pressing his lips to the corner of Ryan’s mouth, his cheek. “Any conclusion?” said Ryan, fingers tangling in Chad’s hair.

“Sure,” said Chad, and shifted slightly so he could run his hand over Ryan’s flat chest. “Something’s missing.”

Ryan choked on his laughter, and - oh jesus - rolled his hips in a way Chad suspected wouldn’t be possible without all that fucking yoga. “Little further south,” Ryan breathed. “You’ll find what you’re looking for.”

Chad snorted. “Smooth, Evans.” He ducked his head and bit at Ryan’s jaw, letting his hands wander a little - at some point, Ryan’s shirt had come untucked and ridden up a little, and Chad put his hands there, on the narrow belt of smooth skin. He could feel the firm muscles, the sharp cut of his hips, and Ryan twitched violently.

“Ah - tickles,” he gasped.

Chad laughed again, and Ryan shoved at him, then daringly slid his hands lower, below the waistline of Chad’s jeans, thumbs hooking into the back pockets. He was looking up at Chad with the strangest expression, almost sad.

“Okay?” said Chad, and Ryan nodded, tilting his face up in invitation. Chad stayed teasingly just out of reach until Ryan growled softly, and then they were both laughing again, and Chad could feel the press of Ryan’s teeth when he kissed him again.

And that was the second, time, more or less, Ryan under him on the couch, shy kisses, and laughing, and it was different from with a girl. Awkward and fumbling, yes, but easier too, because it was Ryan, not some girl he wanted to impress or seduce. He could just kiss Ryan and like it, and not worry about “will she let me,” or “does she think.”

It was nice.

~

The third time was actually at school, during the lunch period. And it was so stupid, because he bumped into Ryan in the lunch line and nearly made him drop his tray, but instead of looking annoyed, Ryan grinned, eyes sliding halfway closed and peering up at Chad from under his stupid lashes, and all Chad could see was the red mark on Ryan’s neck almost hidden by his collar. The next thing he knew they were in an abandoned science classroom and Ryan was complaining that the counter was digging into his back.

“Suck it up,” said Chad, licking the mark again.

Ryan mumbled something that might have been, “Oh, screw you,” and pinched his nipple through his t-shirt, which probably didn’t help the whole uncomfortable-countertop thing as Chad immediately pushed him further backwards in an enthusiastic attempt to lick Ryan’s tonsils.

They had history after lunch, but all Chad remembered from that particular lesson was the dazed, punch-drunk look on Ryan’s face, the way his fingers kept stealing to his collar.

That was three, which was beginning to present a worrying pattern, and wasn’t helping his distraction problem at all. He’d thought that just getting it out of his system would put an end to it - he’d thought about kissing Ryan, so he did, over and done with.

But no. He wanted to keep kissing Ryan, like, all the time. He still liked girls, he did, and nobody could possibly blame him for turning down Dianne Worthington. Rumour had it she’d slept with most of the Chess Club, which couldn’t possibly be hygienic, and besides, there was no way he could make dirty baseball jokes and get her to snort milk out her nose in front of a cafeteria full of people. Ryan had blushed for an hour after that.

Four was getting in Ryan’s shiny silver convertible after school and finding an out-of-the-way spot to park, at an abandoned picnic spot a few miles out of town. They put the roof up to keep out the sudden spring rain and crawled into the backseat.

Chad felt like he was dreaming, everything slow and sticky, Ryan’s face above him, nothing but the sound of the rain and their breathing. He ran a lazy hand through Ryan’s soft fair hair, over his bare shoulder, and wondered distantly when he’d taken his shirt off. Chad’s was gone too, somewhere down in the footwell, and that felt good, their naked skin touching. Ryan had a little hair on his belly, which tickled and scratched, and his shoulders were strong and surprisingly broad, and his legs were tangled up with Chad’s like a jigsaw puzzle and his kisses were drugging, slow and lazy and sweet. Chad had never been kissed like this, never had somebody hold him down and take his mouth - he’d always been the guy doing the kissing.

Ryan braced an arm beside Chad’s head and reached between them, letting his knuckles press down against the zipper of Chad’s jeans.

“Yes,” said Chad without meaning to. “Yes, yeah, do that, Ryan, I want, please.”

Ryan made strange, choked noise and brought his mouth down on Chad’s neck, ground the heel of his hand against Chad’s erection, and Chad surged up helplessly, grabbing at Ryan. He could come like this, he realised, Ryan’s hands and mouth and skin, and the thought should have worried him more than it did.

“Yeah?” said Ryan softly, and that was an out, that was a chance to say no.

“Fuck yes,” he hissed, and grabbed Ryan’s ass, pulling him so he straddled one of Chad’s thighs, rubbing hard against him.

“Oh, Christ,” said Ryan, and squeezed, and it turned out to be that easy. The breath left Chad’s lungs as he came, toes curling in his sneakers, his whole body tingling. He could feel Ryan moving over him, touching him, hot breath on his neck.

As the aftershocks ran through his limbs, he reached up, touched Ryan’s mouth, his cheek, and Ryan stiffened, shuddered, and was still.

Sounds came back - the rain, steady on the roof, Ryan’s breathing and his own. Ryan sprawled against his chest, warm and relaxed, and Chad rested his hands on the soft skin of his back and felt Ryan shift against him.

“Hey Chad,” said Ryan sleepily. “If you’re just doing this because you feel sorry for me or something, could you not tell me?” He rubbed his cheek against Chad’s shoulder. “That’d be good.”

Chad couldn’t think of any answer to that that didn’t make him feel slightly ill, so he traced the edges of Ryan shoulder blades and kept quiet.

~

An experiment, he’d told Ryan, and if he’d learned one thing from dating Taylor - aside from a complete history of feminism - it was how to conduct an experiment. You couldn’t just test one side of things.

He’d pretty well established that he liked Ryan. He liked hanging out with him, kissing him, and apparently getting off in the backseat of his really awesome car with him.

What else?

He still liked girls. When Sharpay ‘accidentally’ dumped a giant slurpie all over Gabriella, Chad wasn’t the only one to appreciate the way the white material of her shirt went all clingy and see-through, though he was one of the few to get reamed out by Troy for checking out his girlfriend.

But did he like other guys? Chad struggled to answer this one. Ryan, yes, definitely, two thumbs up. But other guys?

He snuck looks in the locker room a few times. He knew that girls considered his team mates attractive, but he couldn’t understand it. They were guys, just like him, legs and arms and - other bits. He tried to imagine kissing Troy, or touching Zeke the way he did with Ryan, but his mind recoiled - no.

He might have despaired, had he not gone out for dinner with his family later in the week. Their waiter was young guy, slight and dark-haired. He looked not a thing like Ryan, but he was wearing eyeliner, and had a cute smile and halfway through the meal Chad realised that he was flirting with the waiter and had to excuse himself to the bathroom for a while.

Okay, so apparently he didn’t like all guys, but he didn’t like all girls, either. So he had some taste. One of those tastes was male. Good to know.

While he was busy with his experimenting, number five happened with Ryan, who tugged him into one of the music practice rooms before homeroom, pushed him against the wall, and went to his knees. Chad was a little disappointed later that it doesn’t last longer, but since he came thirty seconds after the door shut, he couldn’t really complain.

Ryan looked quite pleased with himself too, and didn’t even seem to mind that Chad didn’t return the favour, just slid his hand down the front of Ryan’s designer jeans and tried very hard to not panic and be grateful that Ryan was worked up enough to take no longer than Chad.

They were late to homeroom after their detour through the bathroom to clean up, and arrived flushed and breathing hard, sliding into their respective seats mumbling apologies. Chad could feel Troy’s stare on the back of his neck, could hear Sharpay hissing questions and accusations at Ryan, but couldn’t bring himself to care.

He wandered through his first classes in a happy post-yay-blowjob daze, and the world starts to intrude around free period practice, when he suddenly realised that their final game of the season was next week.

Shocked back to reality, he played hard and fierce for the rest of the practice, earning praise from coach and encouraging backslaps from the rest of the team, and in the locker room afterwards, Troy nudged him.

“Good to have you back, man.”

Chad frowned, puzzled. “I haven’t been anywhere.”

Troy only shrugged. “Yeah.” He went back to pulling his stuff out of his locker. “You’ve just been a little - off. For a while.” Troy gave him a tiny smile.

“I’ve been a little distracted,” said Chad slowly.

Troy nodded. “Yeah, that’s cool. You’ve been hanging out with Ryan, haven’t you?”

Chad gave him a sharp look, but Troy was wide-eyed and guileless. “Yeah. He’s, um. He’s a good guy.” He grabbed his towel and turned to head to the showers, but Troy touched his shoulder.

“You know he’s kind of in love with you, right?”

Chad spun around. “Don’t say shit like that, Bolton, it’s not funny.”

Troy looked almost pathetically gentle. “Look, I wouldn’t have said anything, except everybody knows - apart from you, apparently - and he’s been following you around like a baby duckling and I don’t want anything to happen, because Sharpay would scratch your eyes out.”

Chad sat down on the bench, feeling sick. “What the hell do you mean, in love with me? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. That’s stupider than you in a musical.”

“Me in a musical happened,” said Troy quietly. “And Ryan’s had a thing for you for ages. Since - I don’t know. A long time. But then you went and made friends with him.”

“Shit,” said Chad, and he could hear Ryan’s voice in his head saying If you’re just doing this because you feel sorry for me. He wanted to punch something - Ryan for not telling him, Troy for telling him now. Himself, for being so fucking stupid, because he was pretty sure he was going to hurt Ryan now.

“So, I don’t know,” Troy was saying. “Maybe you could, like, let him down gently or something. Start conspicuously dating girls.”

“It’s a little late for that,” Chad muttered, and because his luck was like that, Troy was actually paying attention for once.

“What do you mean?” Troy’s eyes went wide. “Has he said something?”

Chad shook his head. He wanted to crawl into his locker and hide under the three-months-old socks and last week’s lunch, because that would be better than this conversation. “No,” he muttered.

“Has he done something?” Troy asked, outrage sending his voice about three octaves skyward. “Did he - did he -” Lost for words, he sputtered.

“Oh my god,” said Chad. “You wouldn’t even care if it was a girl, but because it’s Ryan suddenly my virtue needs protecting?”

“Woah,” said Troy, backing off. “I’m just - I’m just trying to look out for you. Chill.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me,” said Chad. “I don’t need - Jesus, Troy, what’s your problem with Ryan?”

Troy looked away fast, but not fast enough. “I don’t have a problem. You know that. Ryan’s a great guy.”

“Ryan’s gay,” Chad snarled, low. “So suddenly he’s not allowed to do the shit you guys do, like check people out or get crushes or kiss anybody, because god forbid he makes you uncomfortable.”

“Chad,” said Troy, nervous, and Chad looked up to see a circle of faces, his team mates watching curiously.

“Fuck,” he said, and staggered out.

~

Jason found him in the back of the theatre. Onstage, rehearsals happened, and Chad didn’t think anybody noticed him lying on the floor behind the rows of seats, quietly panicking.

“Hey,” said Jason, and dropped a packet of Zeke’s ‘for emergencies’ cookies on his chest.

Chad wondered if he could escape under the rows of seats, but Jason didn’t try to talk to him. He just sat down, rested his back against the wall, and waited.

“Did I overreact?” Chad asked at length.

Jason shrugged. “Yeah. Unless.”

Chad sat up and looked at him sharply. “Unless what?”

“Unless you’re doing more than defending your friend.” Jason leaned over and took a cookie. “You were late to homeroom this morning.”

Chad glared. “You got something to say?”

Jason chewed on his cookie for a while. “Wow. These are good. I mean, stale, but good.”

“Jason.”

“My brother’s gay.”

Chad reeled back. “I’m not gay.”

“I didn’t say that,” said Jason patiently. “But my brother is. And when he told my dad, dad flipped out and kicked him out of the house.”

“Wait. Wait, in freshman year? I thought your dad kicked him out for doing drugs.”

Jason shook his head. “And then mom kicked dad out. And then there was the whole… thing.”

Chad winced in sympathy. His friends had held Jason together through his parents’ nasty, bitter divorce and custody battle. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I had to go see Ms Darbus this morning, about my detention. Over in the east corridor by the theatre.”

Near the empty music rooms. Christ.

Chad hid his face in his knees. “I’m not - it’s not.”

“Okay.” Chewing noises. “Does Ryan know that?”

“Do I know what?” Ryan stood over them, looking puzzled.

Possibly, Chad thought, the theatre was not the best place for his Ryan-related panic attack.

~

Chad skipped the last two classes and went home straight after lunch, not having to fake illness. His mother took one look at his miserable face and sent him to bed.

Chad crawled under the covers and prayed to never come out. He wanted to die. He wanted to turn the clock back and re-do the whole conversation with Troy, very calmly, without losing his cool or giving anything away.

He wanted Ryan, which even he had to admit was pretty fucking gay.

He must have dozed, despite his racing thoughts, because the next thing he heard was a knock on the door. “Chad? Sweetie? You have a visitor.”

Before he could tell his mother he didn’t want to see anybody, the door opened and closed. The bed sank by his knees as someone sat.

“Interesting gossip around school today,” said Ryan lightly, putting a warm hand on his knee.

“Don’t tell me,” groaned Chad. “I really don’t want to know.”

“Apparently you punched Troy Bolton when he called me a fag.”

It could be worse. At least he didn’t…

“And then, you announced your undying love for me.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“I predict that by this time tomorrow we will be moving to Vermont after graduation and adopting a trio of adorable African babies.”

Chad tried to smother himself with a pillow. Ryan sighed and stretched out, lying down beside him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. No. I just - I got so mad. He was saying things.”
Ryan looked vaguely alarmed. “Wait, Troy really did call me a fag?”

Chad pulled his head from under the pillow and looked straight at Ryan. “No. He said you were in love with me.”

Ryan blushed. “Oh. That.”

“Yes, that.”

“Why would that piss you off?”

“Because he was acting like you were going to infect me. Like I had to get rid of you in case you got your nasty gay cooties all over me.”

“Bit late for that,” said Ryan with a sly grin, and Chad rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I told him.”

“Ah, the undying love part of the rumour.”

“Speaking of,” said Chad, and drew his thumb over Ryan’s cheekbone. Ryan’s eyelids fluttered shut.

“Aw, don’t, Chad,” he said, but didn’t try to move away.

“Apparently everybody knows you’re in love with me.”

“Well, everybody knows Sharpay is a natural blonde. Doesn’t make it true.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“Stop distracting me, then,” complained Ryan, snapping his teeth at Chad’s hand. “And in answer to the question you haven’t asked yet, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I’m eighteen, Chad. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve kissed a total of three people, including you, and I’ve done more with you than anyone.” Chad stared, but Ryan’s voice was flat and matter-of-fact. “I could be in love with you, but I wouldn’t know how to tell. I wouldn’t know what to do about it if I was, because I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t feel the same.”

Chad put his hand over Ryan’s mouth to make him stop talking. There was a heavy, unpleasant feeling in his belly that he recognised as guilt. “I didn’t mean to - I didn’t want to lead you on.”

Ryan smiled and touched his tongue to Chad’s palm, pushed his hand away. “You never promised me anything.”

“I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.”

He kissed Ryan then, because it wasn’t okay and he didn’t know how to make it better, how to make Ryan not love him or other people not hate him - them - because of it.

He pushed his blankets aside so Ryan could slip under. Ryan paused to kick off his shoes first, sliding between the sheets, and that was weird, having Ryan in his bed - not just on, but in it, curled up against Chad on the blue striped sheets he’d had since he was thirteen, with their knees knocking together because the bed wasn’t big enough for two.

“You look tired,” said Ryan softly, tracing the skin beneath his eyes.

“I’m bisexual,” said Chad.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “No. Really?”

“Shut up,” said Chad. “It took me a while. I like girls.”

“So you’ve mentioned.”

“And I like you.”

“I’m flattered.”

“And some other boys, maybe.”

Ryan frowned at that. “Should I be jealous?”

“He had an eyebrow ring. And eyeliner.”

“I hate him already.”

Chad slipped his hands underneath Ryan’s shirt, laid them against his belly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Ryan’s mouth curved into sweet shape, and Chad licked it, drawing a moan. He tugged at Ryan’s shirt until he got the hint and pulled it off, then set to work on the doubtless-expensive belt decorating Ryan’s fitted slacks.

“Chad - what are you-”

Chad ducked his head under the blankets and finally wrested the belt free. “I owe you one.”

“Chad, no, that’s not - fuck.” Chad finally got his pants open, and it figured that even Ryan’s underwear was of the highest quality, some soft, silky black material. There were still spots on it from their music-room adventure that morning, which seemed a ridiculously long time ago now.

Chad felt ridiculous with the blanket over his head, hiding him from the world, but he was glad for it as well. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of Ryan’s underwear, Ryan obligingly lifted his hips, and Chad pulled them down, pants and boxers together.

Ryan groaned when Chad touched him, and from this close he could see the desperate twitch of his hips, the slight tremble of his thighs. He stroked Ryan’s belly soothingly, and took a breath to steel himself.

It didn’t taste like much. Maybe a little salty. Far above him, Ryan made a broken noise, quickly muffled. Chad suspected he was stuffing the pillow in his mouth. He licked again, the tip of his tongue lapping curiously around the head, and the noises became strangled.

Sucking on the head made Ryan’s whole body twist, and the sounds from behind the pillow resembled a choked-off scream. Chad pulled off, to a moan of distress, and threw back the blankets. “Calm down, princess. It’s a blowjob, not the second coming.” Not even a particularly good blowjob, Chad thought to himself.

“Don’t stop,” said Ryan, frantically, and Chad laughed and bent his head. He didn’t try anything fancy, nothing like he’d seen in porn. Just wrapped his hand around the base and licked all over, sucked on the head, and pulled away quickly when Ryan pushed his forehead with a muffled warning.

The last time, he hadn’t really been in any state to watch Ryan, but now Chad could drink in the way the flush spread down his neck and chest, his thighs fell open wantonly, his hands clenched and toes curled. And his face, the open, joyful ecstasy in his expression, deepening to a kind of bliss as his breathing began to slow.

He leaned over to get some Kleenex from the nightstand, and was surprised when Ryan touched his face. “Thank you. That was awesome.”

“Not bad for a novice,” Chad replied, and Ryan snorted.

“Come on, I want to,” he didn’t finish, but his hand settled at Chad’s waist and his eyes dropped coyly.

“I won’t last,” Chad warned, and pulled his shirt off. “Not after -”

And he didn’t, not with Ryan’s hungry eyes and warm, clever hands and sly smile. He came with his pants around his ankles and Ryan’s hand on his dick, and Ryan’s other hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.

Afterwards, he curled himself around Ryan and they watched the shadows made by the setting sun on the wall opposite the window.

“I have to get home,” said Ryan when it was almost entirely dark.

“Stay for dinner.”

“You want me to go downstairs and have dinner with your parents when we’ve just had sex?”

“Well, when you put it that way. Does this count as sex?” He pulled Ryan closer to his chest, unwilling to let go.

“This? No, this is cuddling. Any way I can get out of here without your mother psychically divining how I’ve corrupted you?”

“Out the window’s easiest.” He hung on a little longer as Ryan wriggled free, swatting his hands away.

“Clingy bastard. Have you got one of my socks in there somewhere?”

Between them they got their clothes sorted out, and Chad showed Ryan how he could climb out the window, across the trellis, and swing down onto the lawn in front of the laundry.

“So, I’ll see you at school tomorrow?” said Ryan, perched on the windowsill.

Chad nodded, gloom returning at the thought of figuring this all out. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he confessed.

Ryan pulled his hair very gently. “It’ll be okay,” he said.

“Really?”

“I have no idea. But,” he took Chad’s face between his hands and kissed him almost chastely; “I will see you tomorrow.”

Chad watched Ryan make his way nimbly down the trellis, drop onto the lawn. He waved, and Chad waved back, and then he was gone, sneaking around the side of the house. He stood until he heard the rumble-purr of an engine that cost more than most people’s houses.

Chad went back to bed, and sat against the headboard with his pillow across his knees, staring at the tangled sheets, and until his mother’s voice broke him from his reverie.

He sighed, put on a sweater against the evening chill, and went downstairs for dinner.
Previous post Next post
Up