Friday
2:48 PM
outside of school
As cliche as it sounds, it felt as if the bell to end the day would never ring. When it does, I feel like I'm so close, through the double doors to end yet another day of hell, when I feel an arm sling around my waist and a pair of lips roughly press against my cheek.
I'd have to be stupid to not know who it is.
"William, I'm not in the mood," I mutter and I thrust his arm off of me.
"Come on baby, what's wrong with you these days?" William whines. He replaces his arm over my shoulders and he pets my hair affectionately as we walk.
Let me introduce William Beckett. The William Beckett. He's always been really good to me. He hits on me a lot but he's a good friend when I need one. He was the only person in school that knew I'm gay. He was the only one until a week or so ago when my ex-everything walked back in and now lurks the school, concealing my little secret deep inside him. Deep in the shadows of his stomach, where he can easily disregard all of it. Probably the same shadows where he hides his own past. His past with me.
William doesn't know about Brendon and I though. I could even go as far as to say that not a soul in the world knew or knows about us. William's probably suspicious, sure. But God, I would trust that boy with my life.
"Let's go get coffee, sweetie."
It sounds good, but, "I don't need anything else keeping me awake at night, Will."
"Then I'll buy you something else."
William's voice isn't begging like it usually is. He has this different thing in his voice instead. Hm, it sounds like he actually wants to take care of me?
He looks at me with the most hopeful brown eyes, and the most adorable, curled smile, and I smile as well.
William stirs his coffee kind of absently; his matching eyes could probably pour into the cup with how low they were hung. His waves of gorgeous hair swing low too, hiding his high cheekbones and his perfectly crafted lips and every other asset to his pretty face. "William," I say quietly, just above the low music of the coffee shop. "I thought you took me here to make me feel better," I say with a smile.
"I can't if I don't know what's bothering you," he says, raising his eyebrows, looking at me through his naturally long eyelashes, stirring his coffee.
I sigh. There's tension between William and I, (there usually always is), but it's comfortable. I suppose it wouldn't be so bad if William knew... Maybe he could help.
I'm about to open my mouth to spill my guts, but he gets there first. I'm about to tell William everything, when he says, "Did you hear about how Brendon joined the football team?"
I literally choke on my water, and William shoots up out of his chair, stopping several seconds later when I realize I'm okay. I sit and breathe for a second, processing. Brendon. My Brendon? No. My Brendon hated sports. He's the writes-sad-stories kind of boy. He's the boy that went home after school to catch up on his reading, while the other boys stuck around to shoot hoops. He's the boy that resented gym class and made out with me in the locker room instead.
I need to let go. But... I can't. Not yet. Not ever.
"Yeah, varsity. I guess they just let him on because he was really good. Is that surprising?" William adds with a chuckle. I still can't respond. I'm picturing Brendon dirty and sweating, running around with tons of other big, built boys. It doesn't seem right, but I can see it. I can see him doing something like this, just to hurt me some more. Just to find another way to move along.
And William, he smirks. "Ryry..." he cooes. "Do you have a thing for Brendon?"
I sigh and stare at the small tabletop. Tell him now, Ryan.
"I'm in love with him, William."
He doesn't say anything. He reaches across the table and places his hand over mine instead. And he smiles. That adorable smile that's always borderline smirk, but I can tell when he means it. "I always thought so," he says quietly. "When you guys were freshmen... I mean, damn. You never looked at me like that."
I blush and stare at my lap. "He...he doesn't feel that way anymore though." Then my eyebrows furrow sadly. "I actually think he hates me."
And William's fingers stroke the back of my hand soothingly. "Come on, sweetie, let's get outta here."
We exit the coffee shop with William's arm over my shoulder once again. We push through the door to be passed by a boy around our age, black hair and deep, dark eyes. William does a double-take.
"Now, he is gorgeous."
I grab William's hand after a few glances around and then lead him to the side of the building, muttering "You're gorgeous," before colliding my lips with his. For whatever reason, William takes every chance he can to make out with me, and when I kiss him first? That turns him on more than anything.
Technically, Wiliam Beckett is an awful kisser. He's sloppy and wet and I never know what he's going to do next. He can never get the space between us quite right and he always smells like other boys. Today? Travis McCoy. This leads me into forgetting about our little spontaneous kiss and thinking about him instead.
Already knowing the answer, I ask, backing away and flipping the fallen hair out of my eyes, "So who are you crushing on these days?"
He tries to hold back a grin. "You know who. You still can't tell anyone yet though."
Yet. William is the biggest player I've ever met. He's a lot of things, actually, but player is one of the most frequent. He has a girlfriend; she's absolutely beautiful. And yet, he kisses me. He crushes on Travis McCoy. He could have sex with either of us and Darcy probably wouldn't even know. She and William really are adorable together. She's the graceful captain of the dance team. He's the melodramatic actor. Everyone belongs to their own part of the school, even Brendon now.
It's sad to think of how William's going to hurt her one day. Maybe in the same way Brendon hurt me.
Even as William Beckett has me up against the wall of the coffee shop that we shared so many intimate talks in, all my thoughts still lead back to Brendon Urie.
Let's just stop, drop everything, forget each other's names -->
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