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

A week passes, and Ryan and I don’t act any different then we usually do.

Are you trying to drive me insane?! I want to scream but I’d like to think I have more tact than that so I keep quiet, waiting for him to bring it up first.

Only he never does.

“Hey, Bren,” he says on Friday. “Let’s have a sleepover-movie party … thing.”

Maybe he wants to talk about it now? “Yeah, that sounds like fun,” I say brightly. “But we’d have to do it at your house since Spencer’s been super pissy lately. I think he might be PSMing.”

Ryan gives a weird look. “Ooookayyy,” he says slowly. “Yeah, I guess that would work. You sure we can’t do it at your place?”

“Ryan. Do you really want to put up with Spencer being bitchy and Jon being an ass?” I ask, mentally adding, If we’re gonna talk about “us” and all that …

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “Good point. I think my dad’s gonna be out tonight, so it should be fine.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask slowly, watching Ryan. “Would it be not okay if he were home?”

He goes all deer-caught-in-headlights on me and I tilt my head to one side. “Ryan?”

“Oh! Um, no reason, I was just thinking out loud,” he says hurriedly. “Sorry.”

“It’s nothing to apologize about,” I tell him with a slight smile. “So tonight’s a go?”

Ryan hesitates and then: “Yeah. You’re gonna come home with me after school and I’ll lend you stuff to sleep in.”

“Awesome! Can’t wait!” I say excitedly, and he gives a look that says Yeah … neither can I …

When school ends, I meet Ryan outside in the parking lot. We get on the school bus that Ryan takes and find a seat near the back and we spend the whole ride sitting in silence.

Where did our conversations go? I wonder, watching Ryan stare aimlessly out the window. When did it go from back and forth banter to stretches of silence?

Why isn’t everything as a simple as it was a week ago?

“Hey, we’re here,” Ryan’s voice jolts me out of my depressing thoughts and I follow him off the bus and silently down the sidewalk until we get to a Victorian-looking house, which I recognize as Ryan’s.

He lets us inside and we head through a dark and empty feeling house up to his room, perhaps the only warm and lived in feeling room in the house. I immediately fall down on his bed. “Why is your house so unhappy feeling?” I ask. Okay, so maybe I don’t actually have good tact.

Ryan sits down beside me. “I can’t tell you,” he says quietly and I stare at him in shock because I didn’t really expect any answer.

“Umm, okayyy,” I say slowly. “So what happens now?”

“You bake me cookies?” he asks hopefully.

“Wrong,” I say flatly. “It’s your house, you bake this time.”

Ryan sticks his bottom lip out in a pout and gives the most irresistible puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen. “Awww …”

We end up in the kitchen, baking chocolate chip cookies together. “You remind me of a former love, that I once knew, and you carry a little piece with you,” I sing softly, dancing around Ryan. “No, no, no! Not yet! We have to add the chocolate chips first!”

“Ohhh,” Ryan says with a goofy grin. “Oops.”

When the oven timer finally goes off, we bring the cookies up to Ryan’s room and sit together on his bed and I have the plate of cookies in my lap. “Close your eyes,” I command Ryan and he doesn’t question me, just lets his eyes flutter closed.

I break off a piece of cookie. “Now open your mouth,” I say and gingerly place the cookie bit on his tongue, my fingers brushing against his lips as I pull away.

His honeyed eyes fly open and he stares at me while chewing. “Is it good?” I ask.

Ryan doesn’t answer, just places a hand over my eyes. “Is it bad?” I ask and he drops a cookie piece in my open mouth, causing me to giggle.

“It’s delicious,” he whispers, gently touching my face. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” I breathe, trying not to hyperventilate. Just kiss me, you dolt, and forever ruin all cookies for me!

But he pulls away and gives me a cocky little grin. “D’you wanna watch a movie?” he asks.

“Sure.”

* * *

We fall asleep with our arms around each other and the TV still on and I dream that one day someone famous writes a movie about us and we star as ourselves and it’s a romance.

“Why’d you kiss me?” Brendon asks quietly, watching Ryan’s silhouette stand by the curtained windows. “What did you mean by that?”

“I …” Ryan’s husky voice trails off and he walks slowly over to sit beside Brendon on his bed. “It was my way of saying ‘I love you.’”

Brendon leans forward and presses his lips to Ryan’s. “And that’s my way of saying ‘I love you,’” he whispers, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s neck. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Yours or none,” Ryan whispers back and tenderly pushes Brendon backwards onto his bed. “Yours or none.”

The two boys make love as the sun rises. “I love you,” Brendon tells Ryan.

“What the fuck are you doing in my son’s bed?!” a deep voice roars, and I jolt awake to see a man that looks Ryan, only aged thirty years, standing over me.

“Wake up!” I hiss, shaking Ryan, whose arms around locked around my waist. “Ryan!”

When his eyes open, Ryan pushes me out of his bed. “Go!” he whispers, eyes wide with fear. “Get out of here!”

“George Ryan Ross!” the man, who I assume to be Ryan’s dad, bellows. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“But—” I begin, but Ryan cuts me off.

“The window!” he hisses, giving me a nudge in the direction.

Shaking myself out of my paralyzing fear, I pry the window open and drop out side, just in the time to see Ryan block the window after me.

Quivering, I wait for Ryan to drop down after me, but he doesn’t and I hear his father yelling: “Just what do you think you’re doing? Are you a faggot, huh? Are you?” And I hear Ryan whimpering and the sound of a body hitting the floor.