If I Told You I Loved You, How Far Would You Run?

Ryan and I are standing in line, trying to decide what to order, and the blonde girl in front of us keeps glancing back over her shoulder.

I instinctively take a step closer to Ryan and try to will the girl away with my thoughts. Can’t you feel my “gay boy” vibes? Now go away! Alas, no luck.

When it’s finally our turn at the counter, I order a pumpkin spice latte and a cinnamon roll and Ryan gets a caramel latte, and we snag a small table by the window.

I’ve barely bitten into my cinnamon roll when the blonde girl from the line is standing in front of us with a silly smile on her face. “Ryan? Omigod! What are you doing here?” she asks, flipping a strand of hair over her shoulder.

“We’re having brunch,” Ryan says with a slight smile.

What does it look like? Bitch! I add in my head.

“You know Brendon, don’t you?” Ryan asks, gesturing at me. “Brendon, this is Keltie. She’s in my Writing For Life class.”

Keltie turns her brown eyes to me and gives me a sickeningly sweet smile. “Oh, I don’t think we’ve meet before. It’s nice to meet you, Brandon,” she says.

I swear she messed my name up on purpose. “Brendon,” I say. “It’s Brendon.”

I don’t like her.

But then again, I’m a biased, jealous, raging closet gay boy.

Keltie pulls up a chair and eats her fruit salad with us. I regret having dressed Ryan so nicely today since she can’t keep her eyes off him.

He’s mine. Whore, I think, glaring down at my latte.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow in English,” Keltie says with a wave and finally—finally!—leaves.

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Ryan says, glancing sideways at me.

“No,” I say shortly. “Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t question my bitterness, just nods and follows me to door.

Back at the apartment, we’re greeted by an overly enthusiastic Jon. “So how was your date?” he asks with this goofy grin plastered all over his face.

“It wasn’t a date, Jon, and we were joined by one of Ryan’s classmates,” I say, brushing off my excited roommate.

“A classmate, eh?” Jon says, nudging Ryan in the side.

Ryan’s completely oblivious to Jon’s underlying meaning, to my underlying anger. “Her name is Keltie,” he says. “She’s really nice.”

“What about you, Brendon? Did you think she was nice?” Jon asks.

I evil eye him in response.

* * *

Monday morning. School. School! DOOOOM!

“Hurry up! You’re gonna be late!” Jon shouts, pounding on my bedroom door. He graduated last year, the lucky bastard. “BRENDON!”

“I’m coming!” I yell back and throw the door open.

One tense car ride with Spencer later (neither of us are morning people), we arrive at school, and I meet up with Ryan outside the chemistry room.

“Hey, what’s with the sunglasses?” I ask, reaching out to take said sunglasses from Ryan’s face. “It’s the middle of January.”

He grabs my hand before I can pull the sunglasses off. We stand there for a few charged seconds, staring silently at each other before he lets my hand go and slide his sunglasses off to reveal one heavily bruised eye.

“Poor baby!” I gasp, dropping the sunglasses in shock. “What happened to you?”

Ryan stoops to pick his sunglasses up and put them back on. “I was jumped on my way home from your place,” he mumbles. “Last night.”

“Omigod, are you okay?” I ask, cuddling him close to me.

“No,” he whimpers, crying into my embrace.

“Okay, that’s it. We’re skipping,” I decide. “Spence will let us borrow his car for today.”

We end up sitting in Spencer car, parked outside a pawnshop, and I’m wondering if I can pawn my future and buy Ryan a big house where he’ll always be safe.

“What are you thinking about, Bren?” Ryan asks, ticking the side of my face with his scarf.

“Secrets,” I lie, and his face falls.

“Are you still mad at me because of that?” he asks quietly.

“Mad?” I say with a twisted laugh. “No. Hurt? Yes.”

Ryan turns to stare at the window. “It would hurt you more if I told you,” he says softly.

“Don’t give me that bullcrap, Ross,” I say, watching him flinch and cringe under my searching gaze.

“I can’t tell you!” he cries, and we end up locked in each other’s arms, crying and whimpering and trying so hard to breathe.