I Have Only Myself to Give, Nothing More

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Groaning, I blindly reach a hand out to fumble for my alarm clock.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Is he—?”

“Shh!”

Oh. That is not my alarm clock.

I open my eyes in confusion to see two blurry faces hovering above me. “What?” I croak out and rub the sleep from my eyes. The two faces reveal themselves to be Brendon and Jon, and there’s an IV drip attached to my left hand. “What happened?” I ask groggily.

“You’re in the hospital!” Jon tells me, almost gleefully.

“Are you okay?” Brendon asks, concern creasing his forehead. “Jon’s mother got a scary phone call from one of the nurses last night.”

I try a smile and look around myself at the white, sterilized pillows, machines, and walls, and I feel a little bit of claustrophobic for my tastes. How did I get here?

“So what happened to you?” asks Brendon timidly, and Jon brightly chimes in—

“You look terrible.”

Licking my lips to wet them, I reply in a shaky voice: “I, uh … mugged on my way home from school.”

Brendon nods. “That’s what the nurse said your dad said when he brought you in,” he tells me grimly.

Dad brought me here?

And then—

It’s a good thing we’re liars along the same vein. Hey, maybe we’re related.

“Wait … how come … why would the nurses call your house?” I ask Jon, and he points to a thin booklet sitting on a table in the corner of the room.

I recognize it as the school directory and I cringe, remembering how I had circled Jon’s home phone number in bright red ink because I didn’t want to forget that Brendon also lived there.

“Do you … d’you how long I have to stay here?” I ask, feeling caged by the heavy hospital blanket.

An unhappy frown flits across Brendon and it’s left up to Jon to tell me.

“A couple of days, I think,” he says. “You were pretty beat up—cuts all over your arms and head, lots of bruising, ‘specially on your neck, and they had to remove glass shards from your elbows and neck and stuff.”

Brendon blanches. “Stop it!” he begs Jon.

“Oh, and you lost a scary amount of blood,” he continues. “Who ever got you, got you bad.”

“Thanks, Walker,” I mutter under my breath, unable to believe that this is the same guy who once dared me to lapdance Brendon. Oh wait, maybe I can believe that. “So … it’s Saturday, right?” I ask, wondering how long I’ve been here, and Brendon nods. Oh good, only one day. “How long can you guys stay?”

Jon opens his mouth, but Brendon beats him to it. “As long as you want,” he tells me solemnly and I manage a grateful smile.

“But we promised Mom we’d be home in time for dinner!” Jon protests, and Brendon turns a death glare on him. “But.”

“Then you can go home, Jon,” Brendon says firmly. “I’m staying as long as Ryan wants me.”

Oh god, yes, I want you.

Jon looks torn between his promise to his mother and his duty to Brendon, and maybe even me.

“Go on,” I tell him softly. “Keep your promise and go home. I understand. “As long as I have Brendon …” my voice trailed off as it hit me—

As long as I have Brendon, I’ll be happy.

“Thanks Ryan,” Jon says and heads for the door. “Brendon … call when you’re ready to be picked up, ‘kay?”

“’Kay.”

The door closes behind Jon and Brendon turns to look at me, eyes fixing on my face. “You look like you’re in so much pain,” he murmurs and laces his fingers with mine. “I wish I could take away all the hurt.”

“You already have,” I whisper back, staring desperately into his dark eyes. “Just by being here.”

“Oh, Ryry,” he murmurs and closes his eyes.

“B-Brendon? What are you doing?” I ask, stammering, as he leans over me. “Bren.”

And a small gasp escapes from me when his lips touch my forehead. “You’re my best friend, Ryan,” he says, brushing my bangs out of my face. “And I … I love you, you know?”

Blushing and uncomfortable his open declaration of affection for me, I twist my lips up into a crooked smirk. “Aw, thanks, sweetheart,” I drawl. “I love you too.” And is it my imagination or do his eyes flash at my sarcastic tone, my self-defense mechanism.

“Best friends?” he asks quietly, and I link our pinky fingers together.

“Best friends,” I breathe and prop myself up to kiss the tip of his nose.

I’ll be happy as long as you’re by my side.