Status: It's Complicated.

It was the next day and I had the strong urge to talk to Ryan. Why? Well... I really wanted to know if he liked Brendon back. Was it possible? Maybe, maybe not. I couldn't really tell, honestly. It would be quite unfortunate for Brendon if Ryan didn't like him back. As soon as I was finished talking to some of my friends over the internet I planned to find Ryan and talk to him. I wasn't shy anymore around Brendon and Ryan. As soon as I got up to head out my door I heard a knock.
"Come In." I say in a questioning tone.
"Honey, we, as a family, are going out to lunch." My mom says in the doorway.
Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT, "Okay..." I get out.
"We are leaving right now so c'mon." She gesticulates for me to come with. I do.
As soon as we get into the car, I am dead silent. Could they tell I didn't want to go?
"Alice." My mother says in the passenger seat.
"What?" I say, trying not to throw it out like I was mad.
"I don't get you, sweetie. You used to love family outings."
"I guess I will just have to get used to them again then." My tone is flat.
"Maybe that's it." My mother says as she gives me a quick concerned look.
We are then all silent as we make our way into Burtolies Fine Italian Restaurant. I sort of missed coming here.
As soon as we get to our table, which was a booth, my parents sit together as I sit on the other side.
As soon as we get to ordering our food I just decide to get the simple pasta bowl. Throughout the time I rarely made eye contact. As we are still waiting for our meals my mother speaks up, "Honey, I think you have been hanging around those two boys too much."
Her words shoot at me, "Brendon and Ryan." I tell her a matter of factly.
"Honey, you know they are collage drop outs. They are bound to leave sooner then you think."
Oh c'mon Brendon told me himself that there was no way he would be getting a scholarship anytime soon. As for Ryan I wasn't sure, but it was probably the same.
"Mom, it's okay. They won't be leaving anytime soon."
"Why can't you hang out with people your own age?" By my mom's voice I knew she was concerned. What? Did she think I would hook up with one of them? I'm pretty damn sure at this point it's not even possible.
"Well there isn't anyone my age, mom." I tell her.
The food then comes and we fall silent again.

As soon as we got back I tried to find Ryan. First I started in their room. Nope. Then I looked in the kitchen. Not there either. The living room? Not there either. Then I went to check the last place I ever thought he would be: outside. I slowly looked into the backyard and to my surprise he was there. He never really got out much. I went into the back yard and made my way over to the bench he was sitting at. I then noticed something: he was writing in some sort of journal. A diary maybe? No, guys don't keep diaries. Without another thought I took a seat next to him. I felt a little nervous because I might have thrown him off his concentration.
"Hey." He says quietly. He had a pencil in hand and words written down in the journal in front of him. I had the strong urge to read what it said, but I didn't want to be rude.
"What cha got there Ryan?" I ask.
"Oh its just a lyric journal."
"That's cool. What kind of lyrics do you write?"
"Depends really. Sometimes it might be a ballad. Other times it could be about love. Sometimes its about... more personal things" When he said more personal things he seemed to get a little upset.
"Oh, well what have you written about today?" I was curious.
"Oh, well, its based off of a book I read." He smiles a little.
"That's cool. What book?"
"Invisible Monsters."
"That's nice. Can I read the lyrics so far?"
"Yeah, actually I'm about done with it."
Ryan hands me his notebook. In all honesty I have never read the book. Ah well. As I read through I notice how amazing his writing really is. Damn. As I finish reading all I could think about was how good the whole story was told in these lyrics.
I say, "Ryan, these lyrics are so good. You are an amazing writer!"
He smiles and laughs a little to himself, "Thanks. For collage, when I get my scholarship, I'm going to take something in writing."
I then wanted to ask him something that was burning at the back of my mind for a while: did he like Brendon? I wasn't just going to say: So Ryan do you like Brendon? Like, like like him? Cause that would be totally awesome cause Brendon does like you so if you liked him back, you know, yeah. Please tell me you will fall in love with him? Cause honestly, I have no chance with him anymore anyway.
"Ryan." I started.
"Yeah?" He looked at me.
"Do you like... like.. like like anyone here? Like in this house?" I felt nervous.
"No why?" He asked me like it was a crazy thought.
"Oh.. I was just wondering..."
"Why would you think I liked someone?" He asks, definitely flabbergasted.
I didn't talk. I felt a little guilty. He made me feel like I had done something wrong. Then I said, "What's your orientation."
He looked away from my eyes as his he drooped his head forward. His hands kept fidgeting in his lap. His response was murmured "Bisexual"
This was great! I thought. There was a chance of him falling for Brendon. I was caught off guard as I heard him say, "Who did you think I liked?"
The question stuck me like a tack in the wall. I didn't want to say Brendon, I couldn't.
"Alice... just tell me." He looked at me, not pleading for the answer, but needing it to move on.
Without another thought I pushed it out, "Brendon."
He then looked completely caught off guard. He even seemed a little surprised yet bewildered, "You think I would be crushing on Brendon?" He changed to a calmer tone, "He's just a really close friend to me."
We then sat there in silence. I didn't know what to say, I didn't dare want to know what he would say back.
"Alice." He then moves over towards me and whispered in my ear, his voice giving me sharp goosebumps; how haunting, "I have never fallen for any one of my friends before... and I don't intend to any time soon."
He then went back to what he was doing: writing more lyrics down in his journal. What I saw: him with a pencil in hand, staring at a blank piece of paper, trying to think but failing. He just wants me to leave. I then did what I knew he wanted. I got up from the bench and went upstairs. How the hell could that make him mad? How would something like that piss him off so badly? I don't really know if I would ever get the chance to understand.