Spencer sat at his usual lunch table, waiting for Ryan—or possibly Brendon—to show up. Though he wasn't alone, he felt slightly awkward sitting by Brent Wilson. The two hadn't spoken much in the past, for it only consisted of "when is it due?", "tomorrow", and "do you mind if I sit here? There aren't any seats open". They had minimal classes together, and with both of them being mildly more introverted than most, they hadn't really bonded much.
"So, uh, I've heard you play the drums," Brent started, obviously wanting to break the silence.
"Yeah! I've been playing for a while now," Spencer perkily answered, "what about you? Do you play any instruments? Or sing?" Brent nodded as he took a swig of his bottled water.
"I play bass, but I've always wanted to try the drums. I guess it's a great way to let out some steam," he said.
"Nice one, haven't heard that before." Spencer chuckled and shook his head. The two were quickly interrupted by Ryan, who slammed his backpack on the ground next to Spencer's feet. He slid next to him and began to take out his lunch. Spencer and Brent exchanged concerned looks.
"Uh, Ryan," Spencer said, crinkling his eyebrows, "are you ok? You seem a little—"
"Agitated," finished Brent. Ryan threw his hands up in the air.
"Now I've been asked three times. That's great," he replied sarcastically. Exhaling deeply, he took an aggressive bite of his sandwich. Spencer rolled his eyes and sighed loudly.
"Good god, do I really have to be the mom of this group? First Brendon, now you," he mumbled. Standing abruptly and grabbing Ryan from under his arm—which caused him to drop his sandwich, making him more irritated—and pulled him along to the nearest hallway.
"What the fuck is your problem, man?" Spencer scolded, "You've been acting all antsy and angry for the past two days. And I swear—"
"Ok! Jesus Christ!" Ryan said, scrunching his face and pushing him away. "Am I even allowed to have normal human emotions anymore? Sorry I'm not as calm, cool, and collected as you." At first, Spencer looked as if he was going to explode, until his dark brown eyes drooped and his hair covered his face as he dropped his head.
"Ok, dude I'm sorry," he apologized, shoving his face in his hands, "I guess I came off as super annoyed—well I was, to be honest—but I should explain. I'm just really worried about Brendon. He's never missed school, even though he hates it with a passion. Like, ever since I've known him—and we go way back—he's always managed to go to school. Through sickness and pain, he never missed a day. Even though his home life isn't great, he's always tried to be a role model for his little sister. Since he hasn't been here, I don't want my only other friend acting grumpy 24/7." Ryan stared at him in disbelief.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I never knew you guys were that close," he said, sympathizing Spencer, "And, uh, about what you said about his home—how bad is it? Do his parents fight a lot or something?" Spencer looked up at him and cocked his head.
"He's never told you?" he asked, "Well I mean, you haven't know him for long, but his mom died when he was really young and he only lives with his sister, Brianna, and his fucking asshole of a father. I guess the last time he missed school for a few days was back in sixth grade when—shit." he finished quickly. He began to pace back and forth and started slamming his fist against the lockers, creating a loud echo that seemed to shake the entire building. Anger boiled inside him, spilling over his sides and threatening anything near him. Ryan had never expected that much upset to be contained inside such a kind-hearted person.
"Spence—Spencer!" he exclaimed, placing his hand on his shoulder. The boy's hair was a mess, with random strands sticking out in every direction. The familiar round-but-squarish face seemed to change as it turned bright red. One single tear formed at the base of his eye and rolled down his splotchy cheek. "What the hell is going on?"
"Donald fucking Urie! That fucking bastard!" Spencer examined. "I knew he was the reason Brendon hasn't shown up! I fucking knew it!" He shook his head and clenched his fists.
"The last time Brendon missed a few days of school was when his dad beat him. He tried to cover it up with some cheap makeup, but I saw his black-eye amidst the concealer. I tried to talk to him about it, but he just shrugged it off saying he walked into something. But I knew it was his dad's fault. He always seemed to give off a perpetually drunk vibe." Spencer ran his fingers through his hair. "Fuck!"
"You think Brendon's dad did something to him?" Ryan asked worrily. So much information had entered his brain, he could barely function. Spencer kicked the closest wall, almost puncturing it with his shoe.
"Or worse," Spencer answered, "Brianna." He shook his head and grunted loudly. "God damnit, I'd check on him if I didn't have a five chapter calculus test. God fucking damnit. Unless . . ." He eyed Ryan interestedly.
"Say no more. What's his address?"
