Status: completed
I Have Only Myself to Give, Nothing More
Sechzehn
Pete calls an emergency meeting after school.
“What is it, Wentz?” Gabe asks. “This better be worth missing the bus for!”
“We’re going to miss the bus?!” I exclaim. “No, I can’t miss it!”
“Then I’ll just have to talk very quickly,” Pete says and I notice Spencer and Patrick exchange exasperated glances. “We’re gonna have a Christmas party and we need you to invite Vicky and some of her girlies so we can have some fun.”
Gabe clenches his teeth. “You are so dead!” he spits. “That was so pointless! Come on Ryan, let’s go catch the bus.”
He grabs my wrist and as I’m pulled along after him, I twist my head to look over my shoulder, searching, searching, searching, and meeting Brendon’s gaze. He smiles at me, and I smile back. I reach one hand up to give him a little wave and he winks and blows me a kiss. I blush, and so does he.
“Goddamn Pete and his stupid ideas,” Gabe mumbles once we’re safely on the bus. “I mean, do you want to have a party?”
I think, remember that one fatal party that I never should’ve attended, and then I shrug. “Sure,” I say. “I like you guys. I trust you guys. And if you all trust and like Vicky and those girls, then … I’ll trust them.” I know that I’m treading water with a statement like that—trust is not a common guest in the Ross household—but I want to try. I want to try and be better than the boy I was before.
“So you heard about Vicky?” Gabe asks in a quiet voice and I nod, surprised at how calm I am.
“Yeah,” I say and look him in the eyes, flashing him the brightest smile I can muster. “I’m glad you’ve someone.”
He looks surprised and I’m also surprised at how sincere I am when I say that.
“Thanks, Ry,” he says. “You’re a real friend.”
I smile shyly and kiss him on the cheek. “You’re a better one,” I tell him and sit back in my seat, looking out the window in a haze of self-satisfaction. Call me a fickle slut (or call me a teenage boy crazy on hormones), but after being confronted by Brendon, I think I’m no longer lost in my feelings for Gabe. I feel like I’m recovering, healing, scabbing over that wound.
“Do you …” he begins to ask in a tentative voice and I meet his question gaze, smile, and shake my head.
No, Gabe, I don’t like you. Not in that way. I’m past that.
A small sigh of relief escapes from his lips and we spend the rest of the bus ride chatting amenably.
“Bye, Gabe!” I call over my shoulder, turning around to wave at the school bus and let myself into my house.
I’m greeted by a shattering blow to the head.
“What is it, Wentz?” Gabe asks. “This better be worth missing the bus for!”
“We’re going to miss the bus?!” I exclaim. “No, I can’t miss it!”
“Then I’ll just have to talk very quickly,” Pete says and I notice Spencer and Patrick exchange exasperated glances. “We’re gonna have a Christmas party and we need you to invite Vicky and some of her girlies so we can have some fun.”
Gabe clenches his teeth. “You are so dead!” he spits. “That was so pointless! Come on Ryan, let’s go catch the bus.”
He grabs my wrist and as I’m pulled along after him, I twist my head to look over my shoulder, searching, searching, searching, and meeting Brendon’s gaze. He smiles at me, and I smile back. I reach one hand up to give him a little wave and he winks and blows me a kiss. I blush, and so does he.
“Goddamn Pete and his stupid ideas,” Gabe mumbles once we’re safely on the bus. “I mean, do you want to have a party?”
I think, remember that one fatal party that I never should’ve attended, and then I shrug. “Sure,” I say. “I like you guys. I trust you guys. And if you all trust and like Vicky and those girls, then … I’ll trust them.” I know that I’m treading water with a statement like that—trust is not a common guest in the Ross household—but I want to try. I want to try and be better than the boy I was before.
“So you heard about Vicky?” Gabe asks in a quiet voice and I nod, surprised at how calm I am.
“Yeah,” I say and look him in the eyes, flashing him the brightest smile I can muster. “I’m glad you’ve someone.”
He looks surprised and I’m also surprised at how sincere I am when I say that.
“Thanks, Ry,” he says. “You’re a real friend.”
I smile shyly and kiss him on the cheek. “You’re a better one,” I tell him and sit back in my seat, looking out the window in a haze of self-satisfaction. Call me a fickle slut (or call me a teenage boy crazy on hormones), but after being confronted by Brendon, I think I’m no longer lost in my feelings for Gabe. I feel like I’m recovering, healing, scabbing over that wound.
“Do you …” he begins to ask in a tentative voice and I meet his question gaze, smile, and shake my head.
No, Gabe, I don’t like you. Not in that way. I’m past that.
A small sigh of relief escapes from his lips and we spend the rest of the bus ride chatting amenably.
“Bye, Gabe!” I call over my shoulder, turning around to wave at the school bus and let myself into my house.
I’m greeted by a shattering blow to the head.
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Sorry for the (lack of) length and the cliff-hanger.OMG GUYS! My birthday's in exactly six days and I think I'm going to be receiving the Panic! at the Disco Fever You Can't Sweat Out Tab Book. WIN!