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

Give Me Your Attention, Baby, Give Me a Break

Our first kiss tasted like hot chocolate and snicker-doodle cookies.

Now I’ll never be able to eat another snicker-doodle cookie without being reminded of Ryan’s lips. Damn and I really liked snicker-doodles too.

But I like Ryan more.

I don’t know how long I stand there in the cold air, staring after a bus that left too long ago, with my fingers pressed to my lips because I can’t think of anything better to do.

Then my phone goes off and Spencer’s yelling into my ear. “Where the hell are you, Urie?” he shouts. “You were supposed to pick me up after skipping, you dick! I had to catch a ride with Pete—you know I hate Pete—and you’re not even home? What the hell, Brendon? What. The. Hell.”

“I …” I manage and then my voice dies on me. I’m coming home right now, I think and begin working my way up the sidewalk to Spencer and Jon and the place where I feel loved.

When I open the door and walk inside, I’m greeted by Spencer’s frosty eyes. “If I were your mother, you’d be grounded,” he says coldly.

“But you’re not and I won’t be,” I mumble back.

I’m not in the mood for Spencer’s lectures right now because I’m in shock and I hate talking about my family.

“Mom,” I said quietly, closing the bedroom door behind me. “Mom. I … can I talk to you?”

“Sure thing, sweetie,” she said with her perfect smile. “You can talk to me about anything. It’s part of my job as your mother.”

I crossed to sit on the bed. “Anything?” I asked. “You promise?”

“Promise,” she said and dropped a kiss on the top of my head.

“Mom,” I said slowly. “I think I … I think I might be … gay.”

She froze, staring at me with large brown eyes. “You what? Oh,” she laughed nervously. “Funny joke, Brendon.”

“No,” I said firmly, with more decision. “I’m not joking. Mom, I’m gay.”

She didn’t say anything, didn’t look at me, just stood by the window, staring at the floor with empty eyes.

“M-mom?” I began, reaching a hand out to touch her shoulder, but she spun around, slapping my hand away.

“Don’t you touch me!” she hissed. “And don’t you call me that! You’re no son of mine!”

“Mom?!”

“Get out of my house, you f—you faggot!” she spat, eyes blazing with fury.

I ran down the road, choking on my tears, until I got to the little park down the street where I always went when I wanted to get away from everything.

“WHY?” I screamed, falling to my knees beneath my favorite pine tree. “How could you do that to me?! And hey God, are you listening? Well, FUCK YOU! What did I do wrong? What the hell did I do wrong?!”

“It’s ‘cuz God hates homosexuals,” a drawling voice reached my ears. “Or haven’t you heard?”

I spun around to see a boy with dark bangs standing between the trees. “W-who are you?” I asked, roughly wiping my eyes. “And how did you know?”

“I’m one of you,” he said softly and disappeared.

The hell?

I ended up calling Jon since I didn’t know what else to do and his family is cool. I lived with them for a couple of months until Jon’s mother kicked us out of the house even though we weren’t yet legal adults. Then we called up Spencer and the three of us bought an apartment, splitting the rent three ways.

My new life kept me busy, what with school and a part-time job at a local bookstore, and I was happy enough.

I never spoke to my to family again.


“Brendon? You okay?” Spencer asks, waving a hand in front of my face. “Snap out of it! Whatever happened, it’s okay now.”

Is it? I wonder vaguely and stumbling into the living to collapse on the couch.

“Brendon?” Jon asks, coming over to pull me into his arms. He’s like my best friend-brother that I never had, and that’s what makes me crack.

I bury my face in his shirt and just let it all go—cry, cry, cry, and don’t forget to breathe while you’re at it.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, Brendon,” Jon says, rubbing my back as I shake and shudder. “You wanna talk about it?”

I shake my head in a stubborn ‘no’ but we both know that I’ll break down and tell him eventually.

Only this time I can’t.

So when he asks what happened and I lie and say instead: “Spencer just said something which reminded me of my family. No big deal.”

Jon doesn’t know I’m gay but he knows that my mom disowned me and kicked me out and that it’s still painful for me. He calms me down and we sit together in silence until—

“Whoa, Brendon, was Ryan over earlier?” Spencer asks, coming out of my room.

“Huh?”

He holds out the tray of an empty plate and chocolate-stained mugs. “You baked cookies,” he states in flat surprise. “You don’t bake for anyone except for Ryan.”

“Uh.”

And just like that, Jon the Caring is gone and Jon the Joker is back. “Omigawd, you had sex, didn’t you!” he exclaims. “My little Brenny’s finally a man.”

“And you baked him cookies afterwards?” Spencer says skeptically. “That was sweet of you.”

“Yes,” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “Ryan and I skipped school so we could have wild, passionate sex, and then I baked him cookies. Now I have homework I need to do, if you don’t mind.”

With that, I stalk off to my room, where my backpack full of schoolwork awaits. Tonight is gonna be a long night.

A couple hours later, my cell buzzes and I glance at it to find a new text from Ryan:

you told Jon we had sex? wtf?

Groaning, I leave my pre-calc to text back:

sarcastically. didnt think he’d take it srsly. sorry.

Ryan must be bored with homework too since his reply comes quickly.

the doof. don’t worry about it. thanks for everything today.

And I have to stop and think about this; do I confront him about the kiss?

no prob. i know youd do the same for me.

Perhaps some things are best said in person.
♠ ♠ ♠
A bit little history. I wonder who that boy was? O.o

Title--adapted from "Time To Dance" by Panic! at the Disco