I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive...22/?
I was practically living at Spencer’s house, but nobody seemed to mind, in fact, they all just treated me like an extension of the family, much in the same way, I supposed, that Ryan was.
Walking into school with Ryan and the others on Tuesday - okay, bounced, as Ryan corrected me with a smile - was awesome.
“You know, awesome is actually used in the wrong context a lot, y’know, ‘cause for something to be awesome it would have to be like, immense, and amazing, and whoa,” I said as I dragged Ryan along by the hand to first period, which happened to be art.
“Yeah,” replied Ryan, sounding confused, and the class went silent all of a sudden as we stepped through the door. I shrugged. I didn’t care; I knew what they were staring at. The vibes I could feel were ferocious, and he slunk into his seat, letting his hand drop from mine. I glared around at everybody, attempting to shove my hands in my pockets angrily and failing dismally.
“My jeans are too tight to accommodate hands,” I whined to Ryan as I fell into my seat, and his eyes widened.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh...” I blushed and he snorted, seeing the normal people in the class raise their eyebrows and look away as the teacher came through the door.
“Okay, today, I want you all to draw something you saw recently from memory, because you all should be able to do that,” said the teacher in a faraway voice, pushing her long black hair out of her face with thin fingers.
We all murmured our assent dully, and she nodded, rolling what looked like a cigarette between her fingers before opening the fire exit door and leaving us in peace.
Translation: do whatever the hell you want for the next hour.
“Our teacher’s on drugs!” I whispered loudly, and Ryan answered, “Duh.”
“I’m bored,” I moaned loudly, putting my head on my arms and slumping over the table dramatically. Ryan pulled his stuff out of his bag and dragged some of the paper that had been left out for us over, scribbling away.
I stared at his paper, finally realising that he was actually doing something with it and leaned over him, interested. His long fingers held the pencil with a delicate precision, each stroke creating a definite shade on the page, and it fascinated me.
A boy, no, two boys, sitting with their backs to the viewer, arms around each other, one’s head on the other’s shoulder. He was good. He was very good.
“Where did you see this?” I asked curiously, slipping my arm around his waist and pulling myself closer to him.
“In the backyard last night,” he replied and it dawned on me.
“This is Jon and Spencer?”
“It was really early in the morning, and I got up to get a drink, and I saw them through the curtains in the kitchen.” Ryan paused, concentrating on the images in front of him. “I dunno what they were doing, I’m assuming it was them unless we had two randoms in the yard last night, their beds were empty at least.”
I nodded, watching him finish the sketch and push it away from himself, turning to me and smiling slightly. “Can you smell that?”
I sniffed, wrinkling my nose. Some weird, smoky, burning-plant smell drifted through the slightly open fire exit door.
“DRUGGIE!” I yelled, and Ryan shushed me with a look, as many of the class turned to look at me.
“Now is one of those times when I want you to be less hyper,” he muttered, and my spirit’s sank, down probably past my knees.
“It’s not like she doesn’t know!” I retaliated, and slung my bag over my shoulder, moving down to the other end of the class and sitting on the floor. I yanked a book out of my bag and glared at it, turning the pages with a wanton ferocity. He was looking at me, I could tell, and he became more and more uncomfortable as the lesson wore on, and I glared up at him occasionally.
Okay, so I’m being unnecessarily precious, but still, I’m allowed to feel pissed off...
I guess I was daring him to come and apologise to me, and the people in the vicinity either glared or grinned. Either way, I was starting to feel a bit stupid.
I couldn’t understand why I was acting like such a bitch all of a sudden.
When the bell rang, I was up in a flash and out the door, not even bothering to laugh at the teacher as she staggered in, a dreamy look on her face.
I went as fast as possible to whatever it was I had next.
----
Ryan silently sat down next to me at lunch, keeping his distance. I scooted that little bit closer and wrapped my arms around him, muttering a ‘sorry,’ and kissing his cheek quickly. The reason I was being such a cow escaped me, and I didn’t want him to ask because I had no answer.
Jon shot us a look before exchanging one with Spencer, who ducked his head, leaning further over his food.
“Fags,” I heard in a whisper as I pressed myself closer to Ryan, and I spun around, yelling, “What the hell did you just say?”
Yeah, well. I found myself face to face with Gabe Saporta of all people, whom I’d never met, never wanted to meet, because of everything I’d heard about him, and yet was now nose-to-nose with. William Beckett stood beside him, looking vaguely exasperated.
He looked down at me arrogantly, his very stance portraying the ultimate image of evil. Or something along those lines.
I am so not putting up with this crap...
I shoved myself out of my seat, wincing inwardly as I realised he was a good several inches taller than me, and therefore far more threatening. It had gone quite quiet, considering the size of the cafeteria; many people had turned to observe the exchange between the tall, dark haired boy and me.
“I called you fags.” He smirked, his eyes wandering over Ryan and me, and also Jon and Spencer, though he kept his attention mainly focused on me, as I was glaring at him at short-range.
Spencer’s eyes had turned flinty.
“Why?” I asked coolly, glancing quickly at Ryan. He didn’t look scared; concerned maybe, he was looking at me as though I was insane for taking on Gabe Saporta, but scared? No. Bored even.
“Why not?” replied Gabe, curling his lip. “I just thought I’d let you know that not everybody appreciates seeing homos like you displaying tender shows of affection in the lunchroom. It’s not to everybody’s taste.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” said Spencer from behind me. He stood up, his gaze hard. Gabe looked slightly shocked. Spencer was, to him, the quiet type, the one who never answered back, never said no. Yeah, right.
And I’m the Queen of England.
“Didn’t you get the memo?” I asked. “National Become an Asshole Day’s been cancelled.”
Gabe’s face hardened and he glared back. From what I’d observed of Gabe, he didn’t like people to stand up to him, which I’d already done. He especially didn’t like it if he lost to that person, which had never happened, but I was about to change that.
“So, wait, what?” I stated, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t like it if I do - this?”
I bent down and kissed Ryan, in front of the whole cafeteria, dragging my tongue over his bottom lip. I pulled back and gasped exaggeratedly for air. Gabe swallowed, apparently disgusted, looking anywhere but at me.
“Your boyfriend’s getting annoyed, Gabey,” Spencer said loudly, looking at William. He did looked annoyed - whether that was due to Spencer calling him Gabe’s boyfriend or just the whole situation was hacking him off, as it was me, I wasn’t sure, but he rolled his eyes behind Gabe’s back while Gabe blushed, and I flashed him a quick grin as was my way.
Yeah, you don’t need to tell me...
“Go on,” I told him, sitting down again. “Back to the bleachers with you both. They’re waiting.”
I ignored them completely, engaging Ryan in conversation, and watching Spencer glare for a full minute before sitting down again.
I’m gonna take that to mean that they’ve gone...?
“Dude, what a hypocrite,” Jon laughed, slipping his arm around Spencer and shaking him lightly. “Seriously, that was probably the weirdest thing that’s happened ever, apart from -” He broke off suddenly, biting his lip.
“What?” I asked, because Spencer was still too bitch-faced to be able to speak for himself.
“Nothing.”
Ryan laughed. “Spencer! Come on. It’s not like he insulted your mother or something dreadful like that, he was just being a freak.”
“And now they’ve gone back to the toilets or the bleachers or whatever where they belong,” I muttered, feeling a bit shaken from the encounter with Gabe, “so it’s all good.”
Nobody was paying us the slightest bit of attention anymore, and Ryan piped up with, “I never understood the fascination with girls.”
“What the hell?” spluttered Jon, choking on his drink. “’Cause that was completely normal?”
“It’s because you’re gay, dearie,” said Spencer in the manner of someone’s grandmother, putting particular stress on the word gay. “When boys and girls get to a certain age, they get strong feelings for people of the opposite sex, because of retarded things called hormones. However, some people, these gays have feelings of deep attraction towards those of the same gender, and don’t see those of the opposite gender in the same way as straight people do.”
Ryan stared silently through his whole speech. “A simple ‘no’ would have done,” he said monotonously.
I laughed. I bet it’s all Jon’s fault that Spencer’s like this; he’s all warped now...
“Notice that I said, “I never”, rather than, I have never, meaning that it has passed, and have since understood the last part of the sentence, the fascination with girls. It was weird, when I was younger, and I heard guys talking about how they’d kissed some girl on the weekend, or how some chick had amazing boobs, and I was just like - whatever. Y’know, I was like - I was just indifferent. Surely you dealt with that?”
I wondered how hard exactly it had been for him, because I hadn’t really had to think about it. Hell, I just went with it, I didn’t even stop to think about who I was attracted to, it was just - Ryan. I hugged him tighter, resting my chin on his shoulder.
“Dude, I’ve known since I was nine,” Jon said matter-of-factly. “How do you think my parents reacted when I told them I was going to marry a boy when I grew up?”
“I don’t want to think about it,” I muttered.
“Well, it was, y’know, ‘that’s lovely dear, run along now, play with your friends,’ sort of thing, and that’s not easy when you don’t have anyone who can get you books on it or whatever, and you have to summon the courage to go to the library and ask the old bint behind the desk, ‘Excuse me, do you have any books on homosexuality?’” Jon frowned slightly, staring at his food. He didn’t speak for another minute or so before he finished. “It was hard.”
“Mmm,” murmured Ryan, and I began stroking small circles on his back with the pad of my finger.
We all sat there, not staring at each other, more - contemplating what might’ve been going through the others’ heads at that particular moment.
It was the first time we’d really had a moment like that, one where we all were completely silent and just wanted to know what thoughts were gracing the others’ minds. It was interesting, I must admit.
Then Ryan spoke: “What were you two doing on the lawn last night?”
haha, sorry for the delay, yeah, still sick, WOZ has been HIDEOUS, so yeah.
Comments = much love