One-Night Stand Forever - [Five]
William was Ryan's best friend. Ryan let William in on basically every aspect of his life. Except that one detail he kind of, sort of, maybe skipped out on when informing his friend about what happened in the bathroom at the club. He knew how iffy William was about the whole thing, so he avoided drama-causing information as much as possible whenever they talked. At the same time, he felt so full of words, like water filling him up inch by inch every second of every day, and he had to drain it out somehow. He just couldn't let it out onto William.
That was how he found himself sitting cross-legged with Maja on the scruffy mattress laid out on his bedroom floor. The window was open behind her and the sun shone off of her platinum hair, and Ryan noticed the distant confusion in her eyes. It had been there since she arrived on his doorstep following his "urgent" call.
"So, you said you needed to talk?" she asked. He simply nodded. He wasn't ready. "And what did you want to talk about?"
A lump made it's way down his throat and into the pit of Ryan's stomach, sitting, rotting. The water continued to pour in around it.
"Well," he began. Really, he had never been good at discussing his feelings, especially not with foreign girls he had only met a few weeks prior and with a putrid burning in his chest that had something to do with the guilt of William not being the first to know. But he was kind of adapting to the feeling. He seemed to keep a lot from William lately. He would never shut up if he knew Ryan had been vomiting nearly every day for the past two weeks because of some stupid flu going around that William would diagnose as death. "Has anyone told you about Brendon Urie?"
Immediately, something in her eyes visibly changed. It looked like remorse. She glanced down and ran a cherry red-painted finger across his denim-clad knee. "I'm sorry, Ryan. William and Gabe told me all about it. They're just watching out for you so I don't make some mistake and mention it. I know they care about you so much, and we all know that Brendon just isn't the guy fo-"
"Just let me say something," Ryan interrupted. Maja looked up. "I don't know how much you know already, but I ran into him in the bathroom of the club. I asked if we could do it again and he said no because it would be awkward around our friends or whatever. Then I went back to hang out with you guys. That's all William knows." A short silence followed in which only the intakes of breath could be heard, and then Ryan continued meekly, "I'm scared to tell him the rest."
"Oh. Oh." Maja's eyes grew wide.
Ryan held up his hands. "Shit! No! Don't think we had sex again or anything." When he dropped them, his head and voice went down as well. "I went back into the bathroom and I reminded him that he had told me he really liked me and had feelings for me." Ryan's hands came up to cover his face and he spoke through the small opening between them. "He said he knew that was the only way he could get into my pants."
The girl sitting opposite him gasped audibly. "No fucking wonder you didn't tell William. He would be pummeling the jerk into the ground right now."
"I know."
"I want to pummel the jerk into the ground right now." She laid back on the sheets and stretched her body out, revealing even more inches of leg beneath her shorts. As she rested her arms behind her head and stared up at the ceiling, she asked, "So what are you going to do?"
"That's the thing! There's nothing I can do," Ryan complained.
"Maybe it's a crazy American boy thing, but in Sweden, we forget about things like this. I mean, sure he's an asshole, but he was right. You two are friends with the same people and since it's so likely that you'll see each other again, you can save yourself the drama and not become fuck-buddies. If you pretend it never happened then everything will go back to normal." Maja rolled over onto her side and gazed up at the boy next to her. He was obviously exhausted, with deep bags under his eyes and tousled hair from running his fingers through it so many times. "I don't know what's going on in that pretty head of yours, but whatever it is, the only way to solve it will be to forget about that night, perhaps even start over with him. As friends. Only friends."
Ryan sighed, but agreed nonetheless. He couldn't deny that he was more than ready for a fresh start.
So the first place he went was the mall. Shopping therapy.
"Bill! Bill!" Ryan called, raising his voice over the horrific pop music playing in the store. He turned back to the mirror, brushing two fingers over his thighs, which were seeming a bit larger than usual. Deliberately, his index and middle fingers hovered over the stretched fabric and his eyes followed in the mirror. His friend finally arrived and gave their traditional six-beat tap on the dressing room door before Ryan opened it. He clutched William's hand to drag the boy in, and then brought it around his waist to the front of the jeans he was trying on. Both boys gazed into the mirror in front of them. "Okay, I'm gonna take a really deep breath, and you're going to button them."
A loud puff of air was let out into Ryan's ear. "Why don't you just get the next si-"
"No!" Ryan hissed. "That would place me in dangerous waters. Like, fat lady dangerous." He twisted in his friend's loose grip only to get a view of William's shoulder. "Are you going to help or not?" he whispered.
William knew better than to argue with Ryan over clothing. "Sure, whatever. Breathe in," he directed. Ryan sucked in as much air as humanly possible and stood tall. The clasp closed.
Ryan breathed out. "Thank god. For a second there I th-" A loud ping echoed around the tiny, closed-in room. Hazel eyes scavenged the room and when they landed on the source of the sound, tears pricked at Ryan's eyelids and right away he was thankful that he was facing away from William. The button had flung off of the pants and into the mirror, and was now lying innocently on the floor. He hung his head low so that his crying wouldn't be visible in the reflection, buthe seconds he expected it would take to compose himself quickly transformed into minutes. William remained silent and kept his eyes trained on a dustmite decorating the floor.
From an early age, Ryan possessed a miraculous metabolism, so he never had to think twice about his weight. Nicknames such as "Toothpick" and "Manorexic" exclusively served as confidence-boosters that merely encouraged him to buy the skinniest jeans available. Besides, he enjoyed tighter jeans, and loved to pair them with funky vests and collared shirts. In the cluttered mind of Ryan Ross, thin opened the door to a world of fashionable possibilities.
Now he was at a loss of what to do. His family surely did not have the money to purchase everything he owned in a larger size.
For the first time in weeks, William discovered a frown upon his best friend's face. He couldn't stand it.
"Forget this dumb store. Let's go get ice cream." Will shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for a response. When he didn't receive a peep, he continued with a lure. "They have pistachio."
Ryan turned on his heel and began to pull the garment off, revealing his black briefs to the only person in the world (besides Brendon) who had ever seen him without clothing. "Ice cream?" he asked, an incredulous tone vibrating through his vocal chords. "Are you kidding? I'm not eating for a week."
William cocked a hip. "Are you kidding? Who the fuck do you think I am? I'm not going to let you do that to yourself."
The younger boy harshly threw the dark-wash jeans down on the stool in front of the mirror. "You know what, William? Fuck you and your stupid over-protective self," he muttered, directed more towards the floor than anything else. Suddenly, he spun around to face the long-haired boy. "I'm allowed to do whatever I want. It's my business," he stated. He pressed his index finger against his chest. "Not yours."
William didn't bother informing him that he stomped out of the dressing room in only underwear.
"Why the hell didn't you stop me?" Ryan asked later, over William's styrofoam container of greasy lo mein. He shot it a begrudging look. The stupid stuff had calories, the reason he was fat, but at the same time it was so tempting. He was torn between the desire to toss it in the nearest trash bin and the urge to grab his own fork and dig in. He could easily relate the same indecisiveness to many areas of his life at the moment.
When he looked up, William's face had adopted a smug look. The boy inspected his fingernails as if they were the most interesting things in the world, but he was clearly resisting the itch to laugh at the memory. He licked his lips, then brought his fork back down to the meal and twirled a few noodles around its plastic prongs. As soon as the food reached his mouth, he began chewing thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure I remember you mentioning something about your actions not being part of my business." William swallowed and gathered some cooked vegetables on his fork to raise toward Ryan. "Eat."
Ryan kept his lips shut tight and shook his head.
"Ryan," William warned. After a few more unsuccessful attempts he dropped his eating utensil and glanced around at the selection of eating places. "How about chicken nuggets?"
"No. I'm not hungry," Ryan assured him.
William peered at the displayed menu of the Greek place only a few feet away. "Then how about a salad? It's light."
Under the table, Ryan's fingers trembled against his knees, gripping tightly so that the bones of his knuckles pressed up under the skin. He counted to five and released his joints along with a stress-filled breath.
"I said," he articulated, to make sure this time William would understand that he shouldn't ask again, "I'm. Not. Hungry."
After a speculative eyebrow raise, William was about to hold his hands up to admit defeat. But Ryan's body beat him to it. A subtle, yet noticeable growling of the boy's stomach revealed his dishonesty.
William's eyes were full of pride in knowing he had won, and Ryan's, a sad attempt at innocence. Both stared at one another. Ryan broke first. "Okay, fine. I'll get a smoothie."
He kicked the chair out from under him and stood up, removing his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and counting the bills inside as he strutted through the chairs and tables of the food court. He had $23 left from the $50 he had taken from his dad's wallet. The man had been wasted out of his mind when Ryan found him sprawled across the recliner in the living room, but he was still conscious, so Ryan felt it fair to not refer to it as "stealing'.
He grasped a ten-dollar bill and tucked the others back into the money pocket. He approached the counter and had to remind himself to breathe when his eyes located Brendon Urie standing casually behind the cash register, flipping through the pages of a gossip magazine with what had to be one of the dumbest lime green ball caps lying atop his head. His eyes flicked from a photo to Ryan.
"Well if it isn't Ryan Ross. Coming back to ask for more?" he asked smugly.
The immediate, timid personality that Ryan's body developed around Brendon shone through as he muttered a simple, "No." He scanned the menu in hopes that it would distract him long enough from the awkwardness of the situation.
It was clear that Brendon wasn't feeling it. "You know, Ry, you shouldn't get so quiet and shy around me. I kind of liked it better when you were begging me to get inside you." He had gone back to reading the magazine so he didn't get the chance to see Ryan's surprised expression that quickly turned into a scowl.
Ryan twisted around to glance at William who was fortunately too wrapped up in ripping the tags off of his new clothes to notice where Ryan was, or more importantly, who he was with.
He turned back to Brendon and remembered what Maja told him, to forget. He took a deep breath and said, "I'd like a low-fat bananaberry."
When Brendon looked up he registered the words and released a loud guffaw. "Are you kidding me? Did you seriously ask for a low-fat beverage?"
Ryan scoffed. He couldn't believe that Brendon had the nerve. All of the protective walls he had put up around himself instantly fell down around him. "Okay, so it might be kind of obvious I'm ballooning to the size of a whale, but do you have to be such a prick about the fact that I'm trying to lose weight?"
A frown flashed across Brendon's face, but was hastily replaced by a light chuckle and an eyeroll. "Yes, Ryan. You're the fattest thing in the world."
For the second time that day, water welled up on Ryan's eyelids. He backed up slowly and spun around to sulk back over to he and William's seats. He pretended not to hear the groan or the mutter of "what the fuck ever" behind him.
On the drive home, Ryan slumped low on the seat and rested his feet on the dashboard, humming along to the soft rock song flowing through the speakers and ignoring the sound of William calling out the name of every single fast food place they passed. It was becoming more than tiring to hear it progress into pleas of wanting to know why he hadn't bought a smoothie. His eyelids drifted shut and his head lolled to the side, but it snapped back up at William's next comment.
"I know you're telling Maja." Ryan could see the stiffening of William's jaw after the words were released and the boy kept his eyes hard on the road ahead of them. He was holding on tightly to composure. Ryan was grateful. "I know you're telling Maja all of the things you're not telling me."
Ryan dropped his gaze down to his hands.
William let out a whimper and his voice went soft. "Why aren't you letting me in, Ryan? I thought I was your best friend. All I want is what's best for you; to keep you happy and okay."
Ryan wished those weren't tears he saw glistening at the corner of William's right eye, so he tried not to sound too harsh when he asked, "How do you know about Maja?"
A sigh exited the other boy's mouth. "I'm not stupid. I see how her eyes flicker whenever Gabe and I mention you. Her face has guilt written all over it whenever we talk about you."
At that, Ryan laughs. "Oh, you talk about me. That makes me feel great," he exclaims, sarcasm seeping through his lips with every word.
William's knuckles contrast white against the black wheel. He clutches tighter and finally turns towards Ryan. "What the fuck did you expect?" he nearly screams. "First you're a virgin and you get fucked at some party by a complete douchebag, then you act all hostile and one second you're crying over him and the next you're begging him to fuck you again, then you puke all over my house, and now you can't even fit into the same size jeans from the same store you've been buying jeans at for years!"
"What the fuck?" Ryan shouts. "You've gone too far. First," he begins, in a voice that's mocking William's earlier listing. "I don't really mind that I lost my virginity to some random guy, so stop making such a big deal out of it. Second, have you ever seen me cry over him? No. Third, I didn't puke all over your house, only in the toilet and a bit on the floor. Fourth, could you please stop pointing out the fact that I'm huge? And lastly, what the hell does any of this have to do with anything?"
His friend cussed and swerved the car to avoid hitting another, then spoke again, voice much opposite in volume than that he had previously been using. He kept his eyes trained half on Ryan, half on the road, as he articulated the words. "You're pregnant, Ryan. You're pregnant with Brendon's baby."
Instinctively, Ryan raised a hand to sweep across his stomach. He couldn't feel anything different with his belly, but another feeling entirely was engulfing his body. "You don't know what you're talking about, William." The buildings and greenery outside of the window blurred by faster than before. Raindrops were beginning to fall. Ryan didn't want to think, so he opted for staring at things as they passed and racing raindrops.
"Gabe and I have discussed it. A lot, actually. Morning sickness? Weight gain? Mood swings?" Ryan gulped loudly beside him. "There's really no other explanation for it, Ry."
Ryan breathed out through his nose and spoke in monotone, one hand still splayed across his midsection, "I don't believe you."
"I think you do." William reached out a hand to massage Ryan's left shoulder. Ryan shrugged it off. "I think you do, but you don't want to. It doesn't matter, though. I want you to take a test. If not for you, then for me, so I don't have to worry about my best friend. Please, Ry?"
"Fine. But it's going to be negative." He finally turned away from the window. "I only puked that once at your house, I've been eating crappy food lately, and I'm a teenager. I have the right to experience mood swings."
William would have dropped his head in his hands had he not been driving. He settled for an exasperated groan. "You're still in denial? You're not fooling anyone. I saw puke on your sweater last Tuesday, and almost everyday for the past two weeks you've escaped into the bathroom many times during the day, especially in Chemistry. You never used to go to the bathroom during class. Besides, Gabe told me Brendon realized the condom was broken afterward."
"I'm not fucking pregnant, okay?" Ryan retorted sharply. He nearly smiled upon realizing they were pulling up to the curb near his house. He reached into the back of William's car to gather his bags and whipped back around in anticipation of finally leaving the conversation.
"So maybe you're not," William breathed. "But you're taking the test. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Ry."
Ryan didn't reply. He slid out of his seat and slammed the car door behind him.
***
That night, after a painstaking three hours of trying to fall asleep with an intensely rumbling stomach, Ryan woke up at 1:28 AM. He rolled off of his bed and heaved himself up until he was racing through the house and into the kitchen where he rushed to open the fridge and grab the bowl of leftover mac-and-cheese. He took a few pickle slices out of the jar next to them and clutched a cup of chocolate pudding. After mixing them all together he grabbed the largest spoon he could find and took a deeply satisfying first bite. Then a second. Then a third. He continued eating until the family-size bowl was empty and he had licked it clean.
As he was busy washing it out, realization dawned over his face. He heard shuffling behind him and turned to see his mother, small and cautious at the doorway in her powder blue robe and pink slippers.
"What are you doing, honey?" she yawned out.
"I just didn't get much to eat today," he stated. He placed the now clean bowl in the cupboard and walked past his mother. He stopped when he got to the entrance of the hallway. "Um, the mac-and-cheese was really good."
She smiled over at him in the moonlight. "Thanks, sweetheart."
"Yeah. I'm just gonna - " he made a signal with his thumb " - go back to sleep."
He lied. He knew he was going to spend the night curled up beneath his worn bedsheets, sniffling into his pillow, thinking of stupid, dumb, mindless Brendon Urie.
And possibly their non-existent, unreal, totally imagined, unborn child.
That was how he found himself sitting cross-legged with Maja on the scruffy mattress laid out on his bedroom floor. The window was open behind her and the sun shone off of her platinum hair, and Ryan noticed the distant confusion in her eyes. It had been there since she arrived on his doorstep following his "urgent" call.
"So, you said you needed to talk?" she asked. He simply nodded. He wasn't ready. "And what did you want to talk about?"
A lump made it's way down his throat and into the pit of Ryan's stomach, sitting, rotting. The water continued to pour in around it.
"Well," he began. Really, he had never been good at discussing his feelings, especially not with foreign girls he had only met a few weeks prior and with a putrid burning in his chest that had something to do with the guilt of William not being the first to know. But he was kind of adapting to the feeling. He seemed to keep a lot from William lately. He would never shut up if he knew Ryan had been vomiting nearly every day for the past two weeks because of some stupid flu going around that William would diagnose as death. "Has anyone told you about Brendon Urie?"
Immediately, something in her eyes visibly changed. It looked like remorse. She glanced down and ran a cherry red-painted finger across his denim-clad knee. "I'm sorry, Ryan. William and Gabe told me all about it. They're just watching out for you so I don't make some mistake and mention it. I know they care about you so much, and we all know that Brendon just isn't the guy fo-"
"Just let me say something," Ryan interrupted. Maja looked up. "I don't know how much you know already, but I ran into him in the bathroom of the club. I asked if we could do it again and he said no because it would be awkward around our friends or whatever. Then I went back to hang out with you guys. That's all William knows." A short silence followed in which only the intakes of breath could be heard, and then Ryan continued meekly, "I'm scared to tell him the rest."
"Oh. Oh." Maja's eyes grew wide.
Ryan held up his hands. "Shit! No! Don't think we had sex again or anything." When he dropped them, his head and voice went down as well. "I went back into the bathroom and I reminded him that he had told me he really liked me and had feelings for me." Ryan's hands came up to cover his face and he spoke through the small opening between them. "He said he knew that was the only way he could get into my pants."
The girl sitting opposite him gasped audibly. "No fucking wonder you didn't tell William. He would be pummeling the jerk into the ground right now."
"I know."
"I want to pummel the jerk into the ground right now." She laid back on the sheets and stretched her body out, revealing even more inches of leg beneath her shorts. As she rested her arms behind her head and stared up at the ceiling, she asked, "So what are you going to do?"
"That's the thing! There's nothing I can do," Ryan complained.
"Maybe it's a crazy American boy thing, but in Sweden, we forget about things like this. I mean, sure he's an asshole, but he was right. You two are friends with the same people and since it's so likely that you'll see each other again, you can save yourself the drama and not become fuck-buddies. If you pretend it never happened then everything will go back to normal." Maja rolled over onto her side and gazed up at the boy next to her. He was obviously exhausted, with deep bags under his eyes and tousled hair from running his fingers through it so many times. "I don't know what's going on in that pretty head of yours, but whatever it is, the only way to solve it will be to forget about that night, perhaps even start over with him. As friends. Only friends."
Ryan sighed, but agreed nonetheless. He couldn't deny that he was more than ready for a fresh start.
So the first place he went was the mall. Shopping therapy.
"Bill! Bill!" Ryan called, raising his voice over the horrific pop music playing in the store. He turned back to the mirror, brushing two fingers over his thighs, which were seeming a bit larger than usual. Deliberately, his index and middle fingers hovered over the stretched fabric and his eyes followed in the mirror. His friend finally arrived and gave their traditional six-beat tap on the dressing room door before Ryan opened it. He clutched William's hand to drag the boy in, and then brought it around his waist to the front of the jeans he was trying on. Both boys gazed into the mirror in front of them. "Okay, I'm gonna take a really deep breath, and you're going to button them."
A loud puff of air was let out into Ryan's ear. "Why don't you just get the next si-"
"No!" Ryan hissed. "That would place me in dangerous waters. Like, fat lady dangerous." He twisted in his friend's loose grip only to get a view of William's shoulder. "Are you going to help or not?" he whispered.
William knew better than to argue with Ryan over clothing. "Sure, whatever. Breathe in," he directed. Ryan sucked in as much air as humanly possible and stood tall. The clasp closed.
Ryan breathed out. "Thank god. For a second there I th-" A loud ping echoed around the tiny, closed-in room. Hazel eyes scavenged the room and when they landed on the source of the sound, tears pricked at Ryan's eyelids and right away he was thankful that he was facing away from William. The button had flung off of the pants and into the mirror, and was now lying innocently on the floor. He hung his head low so that his crying wouldn't be visible in the reflection, buthe seconds he expected it would take to compose himself quickly transformed into minutes. William remained silent and kept his eyes trained on a dustmite decorating the floor.
From an early age, Ryan possessed a miraculous metabolism, so he never had to think twice about his weight. Nicknames such as "Toothpick" and "Manorexic" exclusively served as confidence-boosters that merely encouraged him to buy the skinniest jeans available. Besides, he enjoyed tighter jeans, and loved to pair them with funky vests and collared shirts. In the cluttered mind of Ryan Ross, thin opened the door to a world of fashionable possibilities.
Now he was at a loss of what to do. His family surely did not have the money to purchase everything he owned in a larger size.
For the first time in weeks, William discovered a frown upon his best friend's face. He couldn't stand it.
"Forget this dumb store. Let's go get ice cream." Will shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for a response. When he didn't receive a peep, he continued with a lure. "They have pistachio."
Ryan turned on his heel and began to pull the garment off, revealing his black briefs to the only person in the world (besides Brendon) who had ever seen him without clothing. "Ice cream?" he asked, an incredulous tone vibrating through his vocal chords. "Are you kidding? I'm not eating for a week."
William cocked a hip. "Are you kidding? Who the fuck do you think I am? I'm not going to let you do that to yourself."
The younger boy harshly threw the dark-wash jeans down on the stool in front of the mirror. "You know what, William? Fuck you and your stupid over-protective self," he muttered, directed more towards the floor than anything else. Suddenly, he spun around to face the long-haired boy. "I'm allowed to do whatever I want. It's my business," he stated. He pressed his index finger against his chest. "Not yours."
William didn't bother informing him that he stomped out of the dressing room in only underwear.
"Why the hell didn't you stop me?" Ryan asked later, over William's styrofoam container of greasy lo mein. He shot it a begrudging look. The stupid stuff had calories, the reason he was fat, but at the same time it was so tempting. He was torn between the desire to toss it in the nearest trash bin and the urge to grab his own fork and dig in. He could easily relate the same indecisiveness to many areas of his life at the moment.
When he looked up, William's face had adopted a smug look. The boy inspected his fingernails as if they were the most interesting things in the world, but he was clearly resisting the itch to laugh at the memory. He licked his lips, then brought his fork back down to the meal and twirled a few noodles around its plastic prongs. As soon as the food reached his mouth, he began chewing thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure I remember you mentioning something about your actions not being part of my business." William swallowed and gathered some cooked vegetables on his fork to raise toward Ryan. "Eat."
Ryan kept his lips shut tight and shook his head.
"Ryan," William warned. After a few more unsuccessful attempts he dropped his eating utensil and glanced around at the selection of eating places. "How about chicken nuggets?"
"No. I'm not hungry," Ryan assured him.
William peered at the displayed menu of the Greek place only a few feet away. "Then how about a salad? It's light."
Under the table, Ryan's fingers trembled against his knees, gripping tightly so that the bones of his knuckles pressed up under the skin. He counted to five and released his joints along with a stress-filled breath.
"I said," he articulated, to make sure this time William would understand that he shouldn't ask again, "I'm. Not. Hungry."
After a speculative eyebrow raise, William was about to hold his hands up to admit defeat. But Ryan's body beat him to it. A subtle, yet noticeable growling of the boy's stomach revealed his dishonesty.
William's eyes were full of pride in knowing he had won, and Ryan's, a sad attempt at innocence. Both stared at one another. Ryan broke first. "Okay, fine. I'll get a smoothie."
He kicked the chair out from under him and stood up, removing his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and counting the bills inside as he strutted through the chairs and tables of the food court. He had $23 left from the $50 he had taken from his dad's wallet. The man had been wasted out of his mind when Ryan found him sprawled across the recliner in the living room, but he was still conscious, so Ryan felt it fair to not refer to it as "stealing'.
He grasped a ten-dollar bill and tucked the others back into the money pocket. He approached the counter and had to remind himself to breathe when his eyes located Brendon Urie standing casually behind the cash register, flipping through the pages of a gossip magazine with what had to be one of the dumbest lime green ball caps lying atop his head. His eyes flicked from a photo to Ryan.
"Well if it isn't Ryan Ross. Coming back to ask for more?" he asked smugly.
The immediate, timid personality that Ryan's body developed around Brendon shone through as he muttered a simple, "No." He scanned the menu in hopes that it would distract him long enough from the awkwardness of the situation.
It was clear that Brendon wasn't feeling it. "You know, Ry, you shouldn't get so quiet and shy around me. I kind of liked it better when you were begging me to get inside you." He had gone back to reading the magazine so he didn't get the chance to see Ryan's surprised expression that quickly turned into a scowl.
Ryan twisted around to glance at William who was fortunately too wrapped up in ripping the tags off of his new clothes to notice where Ryan was, or more importantly, who he was with.
He turned back to Brendon and remembered what Maja told him, to forget. He took a deep breath and said, "I'd like a low-fat bananaberry."
When Brendon looked up he registered the words and released a loud guffaw. "Are you kidding me? Did you seriously ask for a low-fat beverage?"
Ryan scoffed. He couldn't believe that Brendon had the nerve. All of the protective walls he had put up around himself instantly fell down around him. "Okay, so it might be kind of obvious I'm ballooning to the size of a whale, but do you have to be such a prick about the fact that I'm trying to lose weight?"
A frown flashed across Brendon's face, but was hastily replaced by a light chuckle and an eyeroll. "Yes, Ryan. You're the fattest thing in the world."
For the second time that day, water welled up on Ryan's eyelids. He backed up slowly and spun around to sulk back over to he and William's seats. He pretended not to hear the groan or the mutter of "what the fuck ever" behind him.
On the drive home, Ryan slumped low on the seat and rested his feet on the dashboard, humming along to the soft rock song flowing through the speakers and ignoring the sound of William calling out the name of every single fast food place they passed. It was becoming more than tiring to hear it progress into pleas of wanting to know why he hadn't bought a smoothie. His eyelids drifted shut and his head lolled to the side, but it snapped back up at William's next comment.
"I know you're telling Maja." Ryan could see the stiffening of William's jaw after the words were released and the boy kept his eyes hard on the road ahead of them. He was holding on tightly to composure. Ryan was grateful. "I know you're telling Maja all of the things you're not telling me."
Ryan dropped his gaze down to his hands.
William let out a whimper and his voice went soft. "Why aren't you letting me in, Ryan? I thought I was your best friend. All I want is what's best for you; to keep you happy and okay."
Ryan wished those weren't tears he saw glistening at the corner of William's right eye, so he tried not to sound too harsh when he asked, "How do you know about Maja?"
A sigh exited the other boy's mouth. "I'm not stupid. I see how her eyes flicker whenever Gabe and I mention you. Her face has guilt written all over it whenever we talk about you."
At that, Ryan laughs. "Oh, you talk about me. That makes me feel great," he exclaims, sarcasm seeping through his lips with every word.
William's knuckles contrast white against the black wheel. He clutches tighter and finally turns towards Ryan. "What the fuck did you expect?" he nearly screams. "First you're a virgin and you get fucked at some party by a complete douchebag, then you act all hostile and one second you're crying over him and the next you're begging him to fuck you again, then you puke all over my house, and now you can't even fit into the same size jeans from the same store you've been buying jeans at for years!"
"What the fuck?" Ryan shouts. "You've gone too far. First," he begins, in a voice that's mocking William's earlier listing. "I don't really mind that I lost my virginity to some random guy, so stop making such a big deal out of it. Second, have you ever seen me cry over him? No. Third, I didn't puke all over your house, only in the toilet and a bit on the floor. Fourth, could you please stop pointing out the fact that I'm huge? And lastly, what the hell does any of this have to do with anything?"
His friend cussed and swerved the car to avoid hitting another, then spoke again, voice much opposite in volume than that he had previously been using. He kept his eyes trained half on Ryan, half on the road, as he articulated the words. "You're pregnant, Ryan. You're pregnant with Brendon's baby."
Instinctively, Ryan raised a hand to sweep across his stomach. He couldn't feel anything different with his belly, but another feeling entirely was engulfing his body. "You don't know what you're talking about, William." The buildings and greenery outside of the window blurred by faster than before. Raindrops were beginning to fall. Ryan didn't want to think, so he opted for staring at things as they passed and racing raindrops.
"Gabe and I have discussed it. A lot, actually. Morning sickness? Weight gain? Mood swings?" Ryan gulped loudly beside him. "There's really no other explanation for it, Ry."
Ryan breathed out through his nose and spoke in monotone, one hand still splayed across his midsection, "I don't believe you."
"I think you do." William reached out a hand to massage Ryan's left shoulder. Ryan shrugged it off. "I think you do, but you don't want to. It doesn't matter, though. I want you to take a test. If not for you, then for me, so I don't have to worry about my best friend. Please, Ry?"
"Fine. But it's going to be negative." He finally turned away from the window. "I only puked that once at your house, I've been eating crappy food lately, and I'm a teenager. I have the right to experience mood swings."
William would have dropped his head in his hands had he not been driving. He settled for an exasperated groan. "You're still in denial? You're not fooling anyone. I saw puke on your sweater last Tuesday, and almost everyday for the past two weeks you've escaped into the bathroom many times during the day, especially in Chemistry. You never used to go to the bathroom during class. Besides, Gabe told me Brendon realized the condom was broken afterward."
"I'm not fucking pregnant, okay?" Ryan retorted sharply. He nearly smiled upon realizing they were pulling up to the curb near his house. He reached into the back of William's car to gather his bags and whipped back around in anticipation of finally leaving the conversation.
"So maybe you're not," William breathed. "But you're taking the test. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Ry."
Ryan didn't reply. He slid out of his seat and slammed the car door behind him.
***
That night, after a painstaking three hours of trying to fall asleep with an intensely rumbling stomach, Ryan woke up at 1:28 AM. He rolled off of his bed and heaved himself up until he was racing through the house and into the kitchen where he rushed to open the fridge and grab the bowl of leftover mac-and-cheese. He took a few pickle slices out of the jar next to them and clutched a cup of chocolate pudding. After mixing them all together he grabbed the largest spoon he could find and took a deeply satisfying first bite. Then a second. Then a third. He continued eating until the family-size bowl was empty and he had licked it clean.
As he was busy washing it out, realization dawned over his face. He heard shuffling behind him and turned to see his mother, small and cautious at the doorway in her powder blue robe and pink slippers.
"What are you doing, honey?" she yawned out.
"I just didn't get much to eat today," he stated. He placed the now clean bowl in the cupboard and walked past his mother. He stopped when he got to the entrance of the hallway. "Um, the mac-and-cheese was really good."
She smiled over at him in the moonlight. "Thanks, sweetheart."
"Yeah. I'm just gonna - " he made a signal with his thumb " - go back to sleep."
He lied. He knew he was going to spend the night curled up beneath his worn bedsheets, sniffling into his pillow, thinking of stupid, dumb, mindless Brendon Urie.
And possibly their non-existent, unreal, totally imagined, unborn child.