The Impossible is Possible (Ryden)

Chapter 8

Just as he somehow manages to finish the fifth question on his page - and he guesses he's gotten it wrong - Brendon hears a small, muffled sound from his side, and starts, glancing over at Ryan in concern.

To his horror, Ryan has buried his face in his hands, evidently having just let a sob escape, and having evidently broken down. The boy stands up, kicking his chair aside, picks up his belongings, and leaves the room before anybody even seems to notice what's happened.

Mr. Dunn stands up, looking alarmed, but Ryan shakes his head as he leaves, evidently not wanting the teacher to get involved. Mr. Dunn looks helplessly around the class, probably feeling guilty at not being able to do anything to help his student, and before Brendon knows what he's doing, he raises his hand.

"Brendon?" Mr. Dunn asks, distractedly.

"Can I go, Sir? I have something to do," Brendon asks, with a meaningful look after Ryan. Mr. Dunn's expression clears, and he looks grateful, and nods. Brendon stands up, stuffing his books back into his bag hurriedly, and then leaves the room without a backward glance, ignoring the loud, suggestive whispers coming from Timothy's direction.

He casts around for Ryan as he steps into the corridor, and spots him walking hurriedly away, obviously not having realised that Brendon's following him. Brendon hesitates, for a second. So, maybe Ryan has been hurt, and he looked after Brendon when it happened to him. But Ryan also tried to fucking stab him, for asking one question. What might he try to do if Brendon actually shows him some sympathy?

But, Brendon realises, resigning himself to his doom, he has to try. He just can't let the boy walk away, alone, and maybe even crying. What sort of a person would he be if he did that?

"Ryan!" he calls, jogging after him, his heart beating painfully hard in his chest.

Ryan comes to an immediately halt, tensing. As Brendon nears, he turns, slowly, stiffly. His cheeks are a little red and his eyes are, too, but otherwise he looks the same as ever - aside from the bruise, of course. He spots Brendon, and his eyes narrow slightly, his arms crossing.

"What?" he asks, shortly, and the way that his voice trembles makes Brendon just want to pull him close and tell him everything will be fine, even if he doesn't really know if it will be.

"I just. Well. I wondered, um." Brendon shakes his head, stopping just in front of Ryan, and suddenly feeling overly stupid and awkward, and quite nervous. "Are you, uh, okay?"

Ryan surveys him, coolly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Your eye," Brendon says, gesturing to it. "It's, um. It's not well, by the looks of things."

Ryan sighs, heavily, and brushes the hair from his eyes. "Listen. Just leave me alone, okay? I don't care if you think you're indebted to me or anything because I helped with your lip, because you're not. You don't owe me anything, you can go back to class."

"I don't think that I owe you anything," Brendon lies, stepping a little closer, feeling a bit more at ease now that there's been no knife pushed into him. "I'm just worried about you. You've got a fucking black eye."

"Don't you think I know that?" Ryan asks, expression hard. "I don't need your sympathy. This has nothing to do with you. You shouldn't even be anywhere near me; you should be avoiding me like hell after yesterday, shouldn't you?"

"I'm not leaving you. I'm stubborn," Brendon informs him, licking his lips, nervously. "Stubborn and persistent and worried about you. It's not --"

Before he can justify his actions anymore, however, Ryan grabs him by the t-shirt and throws him back on the floor, showing surprising strength for one so skinny. Brendon falls back, head knocking painfully against the carpet, and suddenly Ryan is straddling him, his face almost fierce and frightening, but somehow vulnerable and, well, lovely, too.