The one thing Ryan was truly terrified for was lunch. Who would he sit with? Where would he sit? Did everyone buy school lunch (he had brought his own)? Would he be made fun of? Worrisome questions danced around his head, making it spin with dread.
Ryan didn't have any other classes with Brendon, unfortunately, so they never had a chance to talk after their music elective. He would've asked him for advice, if only he caught this eye in the hallways. Gripping his jacket sleeve with the other, Ryan entered the cafeteria. Well, chaos was the more proper term to define the room.
An overwhelming feeling of fear crept up his spine. Being the introvert he was, Ryan completely disliked loud crowded areas, especially if he was forced to stay in them. Guffaws echoed throughout the entire cafeteria, reverberating off the grimy walls. The scraping from plastic forks against styrofoam plates sounded like nails on a chalkboard, but placed directly by a speaker. One boy walked past Ryan, accidentally spilling his apple juice on his shoes.
Well I'm fucked, he thought to himself, I really hope Brendon's around here somewhere.
"Ryan! Over here!"
Speak of the devil.
Following the outburst, Ryan found Brendon sitting at a table alone, with the exception of another boy. His long straight hair reached just above his dark brown eyes, flicking it towards the side as to grasp a better view of the newcomer. A friendly smile grew upon the boy's round-but-squarish face. Dusting his hands off of his red flannel, he outstretched his hand to greet Ryan.
"Hiya, my names Spencer." Taking his hand to shake it, Ryan nodded.
"I'm Ryan," he replied.
"Of course you are," said Spencer, the sides of his mouth upturning, "the whole school knows, thanks to this guy shouting your name so loudly." Jutting a stubby thumb towards Brendon, he chuckled. Ryan blushed again.
Good god! Why do I always act so different around him!
Brendon looked up a Ryan, a lazy smile appearing, causing the sides of his chocolatey eyes to crinkle.
Oh, that's why.
"So," Ryan began, as Spencer offered a seat next to him, "about what happened in music . . ."
"Ah forget it," Brendon interrupted, swatting the air with his hand, "they've been doing that for years. You get over it after a while."
"Oh," Ryan said, still remembering the face of upset Brendon made after he was called a "fag".
"They've been doing that since he wore his sisters clothes and heels to school in first grade," Spencer peered over his sandwich. Brendon squinted his eyes at him, as to silently remind him never to speak of that.
"That was like, what, ten years ago? It's in the past. Why do you always have to bring this up around new people?" Brendon said, looking annoyed. His cheeks turned pink. Ryan's did, too, as he giggled. Brendon, with irritated face gone, looked to Ryan, starting to laugh along with him. Spencer assessed the situation, and decided to make a move.
"Hey, uh, Ryan," he said, "I gotta talk to Brendon really quickly. I promise it won't be long." Spencer stood up, walked around to the other side of the table, and dragged Brendon towards the cafeteria exit. Brendon was both confused and startled, pulling his arm back to his side and flashing Spencer an ungrateful look.
"What the hell?" Brendon whispered.
"Do you think I'm stupid? Or blind?" Spencer said, "You do, don't you?" Brendon crossed his arms.
"I have absolutely no—"
"You know what," Spencer interjected, "you're a very bad liar. And very obvious when you like someone. Do you honestly think nobody has noticed the way you look at him? The way you act around him? Listen, I know you're gay. Or bi. I don't care. Just please don't act like you haven't a clue about what I'm talking about." He raised his eyebrow, waiting for an actual answer as Brendon sighed.
"Do you think he knows?" he asked, leaning in closer to Spencer. He chuckled.
"It's only been a few hours and I'm pretty sure everyone knows," he said, trying to hide his laugh, "Unless he's absolutely oblivious, I think you're good." Brendon ran his fingers through his hair as he exhaled deeply.
"I just—I just don't want to screw up, you know? I—I saw him on the bus, didn't recognize him, and thought maybe—"
"I know," said Spencer, "You thought maybe because he's new and possibly gay, you'd have a chance. Because he's never met you. Because he's the only person—besides me, of course—who hasn't bullied you." Brendon stared at his shoes, as he anxiously messed with the buttons on his leather jacket. He nodded. Looking up, he embraced his friend in a hug that seemed to last forever.
