The Hearts of Lonely People

Ryan didn’t know Jon, the creepy kid from art class, was also in his social studies class. To be honest he didn’t notice that Jon was in most of his classes.

“Where the hell were you,” Jon said, looking very pissed.

“Sick,” Ryan said, like it was a question.

He writes some lines in his notebook, and Jon looked over his shoulder more than a few times. He wasn’t even trying to act like he wasn’t noisy. Ryan hated when people did that. Just because he was writing didn’t mean he wanted people to see it. Some things are personal to him.

“Are you writing about rape,” Jon asked, titling his head to the side. Everyone in the class gives them strange looks but don’t make a big deal out of it.

“No,” Ryan said, trying to make the notebook as close to him as possible.

“You totally are,” Jon said a few more times.

“Mind your own fucking business,” Ryan said, as he sank into his chair.

Ryan didn’t mean to hate people; it’s their own fault really. He hates his family because their selfish, he hates Jon because he’s noisy. But he really does like him, he's the only one who is nice to him. He wants to hate Pete because he hurts him so much, but he can’t bring himself to think about what he did.

“Come on let me see,” Jon whined.

Ryan glared at him, holding the notebook closer. He sped out of the room when the bell rang, but Jon didn’t get the memo.

“The literary magazine needs more writers,” Jon yelled.

“Fuck off,” Ryan mumbled to himself.

Jon grabbed his arm and every part of Ryan tightened up.

“Where’d you get the idea, it’s good,” Jon asked, taking his hand off him. Jon didn’t understand why Ryan was so anxious.

Ryan didn’t say anything; he just let Jon stare at him, waiting for him to leave.

“Ryan, are you okay,” Jon asked.

Ryan couldn’t deal with this; he stormed off to the cafeteria to clear his mind. He hasn’t been in here for a while. Mostly because he avoids everyone, especially the noisy asshole Jon was.

All Ryan had was the spare change at the bottom of him pockets. Being an emotional eater, he struggled to find something he could eat without vomiting. He settled on some kind of soup that looked edible. He tried to avoid Pete’s table at all cost, until Pete called him over.

“Where the fuck have you been, Ross,” Pete said his name in the usual hateful way.

“Sick,” Ryan said standing awkwardly.

There were no chairs and he really didn’t want to eat anything with Pete. He didn’t know what their relationship was but it wasn’t healthy.

Taking deep, uneven breaths; Ryan tried to find his inner strength. He never had to stick up for himself before and the whole idea was foreign.

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” Ryan said weakly.

Pete kicks his chair as he stand up, and said, “Why the fuck would I want to talk a goddamn faggot.”

Ryan wanted to cry or to simply die. Pete pushes him down, opening the container of soup all over Ryan. Everyone at the table laughs, Ryan collects himself and tries to not cry until he leaves the cafeteria. In the safety of the bathroom, he cries as he struggles to clean himself out. He slides against the heater on the wall and cries into his knees. He’s not gay; if anyone would be gay would be Pete, not him. Pete made him do that.

“Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away,” Jon sang as he walked into the bathroom, dancing along to his headphones. He doesn’t notice Ryan until the song changes.

Ryan stares up at him and he wets paper towels as fast as humanly possible.

“When did this happen?" Jon asked as he scrubs at his t-shirt. He takes off his hoodie and throws it in sink. Jon blushes as he cleans off his neck.

Ryan is uncomfortable but happy that he doesn’t have to clean himself up all by himself.

“You really should come to the poetry reading tonight,” Jon said casually.

“Maybe,” Ryan said shyly.

Jon lights up at the possibility of going anywhere with Ryan, but he tries to hide it.

“If you don’t have a poem, you can read one of mine,” Jon said excitedly.
Ryan looks at him and smiles slightly.

“Trust me, I write poetry,” Ryan said flatly.

After school, even though every part of Ryan told him to run away, he gets on the bus with Jon.

“I wrote a poem about cats,” Jon said.

Ryan nodded and said, “I wrote a poem about my family.”

Jon unknowingly smiles.

All the food is expensive but Jon spotted him, understanding about how minimum wage jobs don’t pay well.

“I work at the mall and they totally expect you not to waste your whole paycheck in one day,” Jon said as he sits down.

A way too skinny girl in a flowing dress reads a poem filled with metaphors about cheating boyfriends. Ryan doesn’t think it’s that good but he claps along with Jon. When it’s Jon’s turn he reads an overly happy poem about snuggling with cats.

“You’re gonna do fine,” Jon said.

Everyone claps in encouragement. Ryan swallows all the spit in his mouth and opens his notebook. He coughs and tries to calm down his excitement.

I’d like it if
Instead of a bottle
Two daughters
Or a loud fight
If you asked me if
If I was okay
If I was Healthy
If I was safe

I’d like it if
Instead of forgetting me
Ignoring me
Abusing me
If you would
Love me
Listen to me
Or at least tolerate me

I’d Like it if
It were that easy

Ryan coughed and stood awkwardly before returning to his seat. Everyone clapped and the next person went.

“Good job,” Jon said as Ryan puts his notebook back in his backpack.

Ryan smiles as everyone else reads.

They leave after nine thirty to wait outside for the bus. Ryan has never been this happy but he feels weird telling Jon, who is still a stranger to him, anything about his life.

“I had fun,” Ryan said.

Jon nods as he blushes some more. He’s trying to get better at hiding his feelings but Ryan still thinks he wants to take pictures of him only for the purpose of masturbation.

“I hope what Pete said is true,” Jon said to himself, the only thing he knew about Ryan were probably rumors, one of them being that Pete and him had some kind of thing. Jon knew none of the details but the soup incident was obviously the end of it all.

Ryan looks at him strangely as he gets closer. Jon quickly pecks his lips.

“Sorry,” He muttered.

“Its fine,” Ryan said, because worse has been done to him.

“No it’s not I mean are you gay, I don’t even know,” Jon said.

Ryan laughs at him as the bus comes.

“I don’t know what I am,” Ryan said. Ryan knows that he is lying; he’s never actually liked a girl. He knew that if Jon actually liked him, Ryan could try liking him back. This startled Ryan a little, so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

“I’m sure,” Jon said with a smirk.

Ryan frowns and changes the subject, “Do you want to go to my sister’s wedding.”

“Is Ryan Ross asking me on a date, I might die,” Jon said, overdramatically fanning his face.

Ryan finds a seat in the middle, he doesn’t want anyone to hear his conversation or be around anyone. Jon sits practically on top of him, which makes Ryan a little uncomfortable. Ryan has a problem with touching. It wasn’t ever that bad until Pete, after that any touch makes him want to vomit.

“It’s not a date, you’re just the only person that I could take,” Ryan said.

“I’m flattered,” Jon said.

Ryan blushes and looks out the bus window. He can’t look at his face without smiling, and it hurts to use muscles that he never really uses. Jon doesn’t say much else so Ryan doesn’t have to struggle to sound interesting.

The next day Ryan felt the muscles in his face, which is a weird thing to feel. Most people ignore it, but he never really smiled. It felt like he worked out his face, but he doesn’t even know if that was a thing.

School didn’t feel horrible, Jon was in a lot of his classes, which Ryan didn’t even realize before. Ryan didn’t pay attention because Jon mostly threw pieces of paper at him in every class he was in.

Ryan didn’t like Jon sitting next to him, because he would go to close to him and Ryan could feel the bile mixing in him stomach. Jon figured it out and he didn’t seem to mind.

Ryan was almost disappointed when art class came, he didn’t want Jon to leave him alone. It was nice to finally get attention, even if Jon tried to take a billion pictures of him. Ryan struggled to write because he felt like he should wrap it up, Jon entering him life would make the story too happy.

He got to the last page and it felt wrong finishing it, but the words flowed so smoothly he had to end it.

“You finished it,” Jon practically jumps on him.

“Yeah but you can’t read it,” Ryan said protectively.

Jon frowned, and tried to grab at it.

“No you can’t Jon just stop,” Ryan said putting it in his backpack.

“But you are a good writer, if you published it in the literary magazine everyone would know,” Jon pleaded.

Ryan wanted to punch him, he knew nothing good lasted forever but he should have known that Jon was too noisy to be his friend.

“We aren’t friends Jon, you don’t fucking know me and you don’t know what I want,” Ryan said.

There was at least twenty minutes left in ninth period, but he couldn’t look at Jon anymore. It’s almost like he felt guilty for his random bursts of anger, but he didn’t want to make up to him when he felt so violated.
Jon’s eyes almost pleaded for him to stay, but Ryan couldn’t do it. Ryan gathered his things and left without looking back.

He just wanted to go home, and just relax before going to his shitty minimum wage job. A familiar sound startled him, the van in the senior parking lot opened. Ryan felt himself walking faster.

“Hey Ry,” Pete called.

Ryan didn’t turn around, but Pete caught up to him.

“Listen I know the soup thing was rough, but you ignored me and ran out on our date,” Pete said.

Ryan wanted to yell at him, but his voice couldn’t go louder than a whisper.

“I’ll give you a whole pack if you promise to come hang out in the van on Monday,” Pete bargained.

Ryan didn’t want that he wanted to go home, he wanted to be safe. The school bells rang, and Pete smiled going back to his van. Ryan was never more thankful for school, but he needed to get home before Jon found him. He had enough of boys for one day.