"Bob." I greet him quickly, and he turns to look at me, squinting and smiling slightly. He seems much taller in this light; handsome, and mysterious, like a book character or something. Mr Darcy perhaps? Well, yeah, but not as fancy, and minus the flowy shirt. I guess he didn't have a lip piercing either. And Bob is blonde -
Okay, I'm getting a little ahead of myself here. Bob Bryar is not a character from Pride and Prejudice. He's Bob. Stop being weird, Sunny.
"Bob. Look, can we go somewhere private?"
Terrified. Terrified of Gerard seeing us. Terrified of him knowing I lied. I don't want him to upset with me; I don't want that hurt look in his eyes that I've seen too many times already. The only real reason I forgave him so quickly is because I hate him not being happy with me, and also I felt guilty about Bob.
I sound like the worst person ever, don't I? I feel like it, anyway.
I suck.
"Sure." He nods, and gestures for me to follow him. I do so, walking in step with him until he stops momentarily. "You look cold. Want my jacket?"
I am cold. Very, very cold. But if Gerard saw me with Bob AND wearing his jacket, that'd seem like double betrayal. But, again, nothing's actually happening between us, and never will. But he'll just get paranoid again -
Perhaps it was a mistake coming here. Doubt's creeping into my mind already. But I AM cold...
"Um, yeah, please. I mean, if you don't mind -"
"'Course I don't!" Bob shrugs off his black military jacket chivalrously and hands it over to me. I pull it on thankfully, wrapping it around my shoulders with a smile.
Well. He's charming like Darcy.
"Thankyou. It's fucking freezing!" I remark, but then I immediately change the subject. "I, uh, thought you were still mad at me."
His eyes - a piercing blue, very nice - look towards me an he coughs, walking slightly ahead. "I wasn't mad. I was just...sad."
"Sad?"
"You didn't, y'know, feel the same way. I found it hard to talk to you." He clears his throat, curling his school sweater's sleeves over his hands to act as gloves. "And I just realised last night that I was being immature, ignoring you just because you didn't feel the same way. So that's why I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to say sorry." Bob nods, his golden fringe flipping over his face, his stare sincere.
"Oh!" I reply, surprised but forgiving. "That's okay. Thanks for apologising. But about that text..."
"The, uh, one this morning?"
"Yep. So, my, um, my boyfriend saw it." I say, averting my eyes so as not to show what I'm hiding and being careful not to say who my boyfriend is. "And, uhm, that was kinda awkward."
"Oh, God, Sunny, I'm so sorry." He looks anxious, almost. And disappointed at the same time. "I'm sorry. I didn't even know you HAD a boyfriend."
"That's...okay. Try not to, you know, do that again." I reply awkwardly. I had intended to go mad at Bob but now I feel guilty after these heartfelt applogies.
It's guilt fucking central today.
"Who is he?" Bob asks, then tries to apologise for asking that, too. "I-I mean, you know, I'm just curious, not jealous or anything, I'm sorry -"
"Bob, don't be sorry for everything!" I nudge him, laughing a bit, and he laughs shyly in return. "He's...he's..."
What should I say? What should I do? Frankie, for some reason, had wanted Gerard and I's relationship (I don't know, whatever you call it) to be kept secret until his birthday and until we gave Venom to Jamia. But practically everyone in the group knows about us dating, minus Bob, Ray, Cyanide and Jenny. Even fucking Keke Turner knows! What's the point anymore?
