Bound By Words Chapter 5

He lived in an apartment, I should mention. Room 54.

I already knew the number so there was no need to ask the person at the desk. I walked my merry way up, hands in my pockets. The carpet was dirty but played out to be classy, red against yellow golden walls. His door was average, red with the number plate on it.

My knuckles rapped against it and he immediately opened up. "Hey." he smiled.

"Hey. Whats up?" I asked, eyes squinted, trying to understand whatever was coming.

"Oh, just a whole bunch of shit," and he rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand groggily, almost like he was tired or just woke up or something. "But that doesnt really matter right now," and he looked up at me.

Time to put on my fake face.

I side smiled knowingly, and took the steps forward until I was in front of him, pushing him up against the wall with my hands on both sides of him, pressing against the wall.

Catching his lips, I smiled into the kiss, but I noticed he wasnt as...riled, as he normally was. Not as passionate.

But nonetheless our shirts were off in an amount of no time and we took it to the bed, messing up the sheets as we, er,created friction?

Whats the polite word for 'fucked'?

-----


Buried underneath the sheets, I could have had a complete meltdown.

Evan was dying of tuberculosis, as disease normally caught by kissing. Now I dont love Evan, but I'm not an entirely heartless person. I cant help but wonder if its partially fault, and nothing rules out the possibility of me having it as well. He brought it up after we started fucking, he was stressed and wasnt all into it when we began, and he mumbled into my throat for me to stop. Currently he was asleep on the other side of the bed, both of us in just our boxers.

All I could think over and over was that he was dying, or going to be dead in a short period of time. He said he'd rather kill himself so his standpoint is unclear, but I just feel awful. Like throwing up. Sick.

It had been 40 minutes and I should have been leaving. Sliding out of the bed I ruffled my hair and put my jeans back on,followedby the rest of myclothing. Evan tossed over, almost waking up, but settling back down. And with a sigh of relief, I walked out, snatching my keys and $15.00 off the dining room table.

Headed for the car, the ride home was fast. I mean really fast. I could barely think about where I was going, but sure enough I reached my house in a blur of a dumb blonde maze and waited the agonizing 3 minutes in the living room until my dad got home./

My dad was a scary, scary man. Tall, stubbly, unclean, strongly scented of many liquors. Now normally he only yelled at me, but occasionally he was really nice and hit me in the head with a heavy object. And its all for no reason, so you can never see where the confrontation was going. He's like Britney Spears to me, if CPS ever found out, I'd be out of here in no time.

without a word he walked past my frozen body, eyes glued unhealthily to the television screen ((hardly intiresting)). A large bottle ((for later)) was placed on the table and finally he spoke.

"Ryan." It was more of a statement, so I looked at him in response.

"That Smith boy cant spend the night, Ryan."

"I never asked if he could."

"Yeah, well, just so you know."

"Thank you, dad." I sarcastically showed undenying gratitude.

"Hey what'd your father always tell you about smart ass-ing me?"

"That its wrong-"

"Yeah. I dont see other kids backtalking Ryan. All your friends obey their parents. Smith obeys his parents. WHy cant you be more like them?"

"Sorry, dad-"

"No, not sorry! Get outta my face, I dont wanna see you."

"What did I do?" My tone was honestly confused.

"Get the fuck away from me!"

"Alright-y then," and I walked to my upstairs where Brendon sat when he was here. I sat in his spot obsessively, running one hand through my hair as the other softly touched the silk sheets where he was.

Oh, Brendon, why cant you exist in my world?

See, now you get a glimpse at just how pathetic I can be. I've known the guy for3 daysand I'm already seriously attached. Well, attached in the sense that I cant see livingtomorrowwithout him. And admittedly, while creating friction with Evan, I may have thought about Brendon once or twice. Or the entire half hour. Maybe.

And it was scaring me. What if I couldnt wait until next week to see him? What if all I can think about is Brendon? What if I, like, dream about him? What if I'm going positively mad? Yeah, I'll go with that. Because despite my demise I just remembered the fact that today was Wednesday and I'd see him tomorrow.


Haha, smart one.


My head leaned against the backboard of my bed and I drifted asleep.


---the-next-day---

Spencer greeted me at the door after 3rd hour, which was the only time we saw each other after the beginning of school ((I was late)).

"Dude, you forgot to call me! I was scared as fuck about you!"

I laughed at him and hisover-exaggeratedthoughts.

"Dont laugh, cause its not funny!"

He tried to keep a dead serious face but even hecouldn'thelp from laughing.

I decided to switch the subject. "Hey, is it alright if we sit at a different lunch table today?" I knew the expression on his face well. I liked to call this piece 'hey, its up to you but remember, its not a fashion statement its adeath-wish'. Decoded, it was more along the lines of 'if you really want to'.

"I have no problem with it, but you might be setting yourself up for social death. And its only your 4th day here." Well, kid cant talk. Spence made a good point, magically, he must have guessed that I meant 'with Brendon' and I've noticed that a high percentage of students here dont really like him.

"Well if you have no problem with it," I reasoned, taking no thought before speaking, "But I'm saying that the whole taste of popularity is delicious but Brendon's a nice guy. Maybe he'll get noticed more or something."

"Fuck that, Ryan," Spencer interrupted, "You just want to sit with him." and he smiled that smile healwayshad when he knew something other people might not. And naturally, being Spencer, he was right. I just wanted to get to know him better, for next week at least.

"Yeah, well, we could just tell people its for the L.A. project. I'm partnered with him anyways-"

"But dont you think thats a little offensive?" And once again, he was right. It was like saying, "Oh. I like you, but dont let anyone know, or I could be a loser like you."


"He shouldnt mind. I mean, why should he hear?" Yes, I was a deceptive little demon, but really, did Brendon have to know?

"Thats rude." Naturally he disagreed with me. See I was always the one with the wrong decisions and he was my conscience that constantly yelled in my ear, and unfortunately it worked in his favor every time.

"I know, but can we at least try? I love being popular, you know I do. I cant go back for shit." Surely he must have understood as we walked our way down to the lunch room.

"I know, Ryan, but-"

"Come on, Spencer, let menotdo the right thing just for once. I always do the right thing! Well," I shrugged to myself to tease him, "While you're looking."

With a scoff, he looked ahead as I smirked. "Of course."

"So..." I prodded, "Can we?"

"Woah, whats this 'we' shit? Youre the one who's risking it all for some guy who youre madly in gay love with, not me." He was planning on not being there?

"Spencer, you have to come with me! You think I'm man enough to face the man of my dreams alone?" my eyes pleaded, big and multi-colored.

"Ryan, I hope you realise how much was wrong in that sentence." he commented, laughing at me.

"Yeah," I sighed, letting him have his fun. "But please?"



"Fine." he huffed as we walked separate ways, me walking straight to the lunch room as Spencer went to the line to get his lunch.


Hands in my pockets, I avoided my normal table as I looked shifty eyed for Brendon. And just my luck, it was all the way across the fucking lunchroom.Ishuffledthrough the crowds of people shyly, head down, as I saw him at the second to last table on the left side.

"Hey," I smiled.

His expression was shocked as hell, those brown eyes wide in astonishment.

"C-can I sit here?" I know I must have seemed insane to ask him permission to sit at a lunch table, but I really didnt want to disturb him.

He nodded, looking down to the disgusting mess that this place called society liked to call food. I really didnt want to disturb him, and I noticed that Jon kid giving me a 'holy fucking shit what are you doing here you crazy son of a popularity queen bitch'.

Nonetheless I sat down, biting the inside of my cheek.

They returned to their lunches after gaping at me for a good long while. Jon spoke up.

"So, why are you sitting here, Ross?" He grunted as Brendon kicked him under the table. Me, being the totally clueless child, didnt get why. And honestly, I probably couldnt if I pressed the pause button and sat here for hours trying to figure it out.

"Uhm, I-I just..." Truth was, I didnt have a reason. I mean, it was because of Brendon obviously, but I couldnt say that. Nor could I use my clever idea for an excuse.

"I-Its fine," and Brendon defended me. "You dont have to answer that."

I smiled in gratitude, looking down at my hands in my lap.

"You do know that youre probably killing yourself right now, right?" his look was rather serious as he smirked up at me. Kind but devilish.

"Oh well," I shrugged in a lower 'I dont give a shit' tone.

"Really?" Obviously this was the most amazing news ever to reach the boy's ears, his head perking up and face glowing and everything.

"...Yes?"

What was I supposed to say? "No not really, youre on a show called Punk'D and I'm Ashton Kutcher in a douche bag suit!"


But he resumed his normal stance, "Your friends wont care? You sure youre not embarrasing your girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?" I gagged. Haha, stupid me. I forgot, I cant be gay. Arent I intelligent? But he probablydidn'ttake it the way I thought he might have, so I just looked for response.

"Dont you have one?" and he himself almost choked on his vile concoction of cats, my grandmother, and gasoline food.

"Uh, sure!" Really I sounded more like I was guessing a question on my math final, so I rephrased. "I mean yeah."

"Mmh." All of a sudden Brendon got sulky, by a tad. Jon stopped chewing as Spencer walked over, sitting his own ass down next to me.

"Hey Ry."

I gave a curt wave and looked down at the table, hoping he would start conversation instead.

"Arent you gonna eat?" Brendon seemed to notice my lack of food and frowned, leaning his head to one side like a puppy.

"No, I'm not hungry, thanks."

I dont eat often. Its not that I find myself fat, it just feels so...sinful.

"Yeah, the food here is pretty repulsive." Jon agreed, nodding down at his dog spit, lefttesticle, and MC Hammer pasta.

I took a glance at it and exclaimed, "Kinda!"

Brendon laughed, making me smile just upon happening. For a second I felt like it was too much eye contact, but after a while we looked away, occupying ourselves.

"Oh, so Tyler Booker comes up to me today and you know how he found 'Defying Gravity' on my iPod?" Spencer decided to input. "Well we comes up to me in math class, right behind me, in my ear, and whispers 'I like to defy gravity'."

"What?!" Jon laughed loudly, followed by Brendon and then my soft chuckles.

"Of course, of all people, Tyler would be the one going around 'defying gravity' with random people." Brendon nodded.

"Yeah, and now I'm afraid to sleep alone at night." Spencer said as if it was bullshit.

"Yes, because he's going to come and rape you in your sleep." I commented, and Spencer nodded while laughing.

"I know someone else who is capable of that," Jon inhaled, smiling down at his food.

Brendon's glare turned ice cold as he grimaced at him, kicking him under the table.

"Should I ask?" Spencer's eyes shifted between them.

"No!"

"Yes!

Brendon and Jon spoke on a spontaneous note, causing a lot of suspicion to arise.

"I wont even," Spencer shook his head, and we laughed again.