Tutorial | Brendon Urie

Chapter Nine

"Are you sorry it happened, or are you sorry because of me?" He looks up and is quiet. I am definitely not sorry it happened. I'm sorry that he feels this bad about it. He doesn't say anything, running his hands through his hair, exasperated. He turns away from me and walks towards the window. My eyes follow him and the window draws my attention. I walk over and join him, staring outside. A snowplow is beeping obnoxiously, clearing the thick white layer from the road. The snow has stopped falling, and the roads are now clear. I'm going home.

"Looks like we are no longer trapped," he says.

"Great." Definitely not great.

I've finally changed into the outfit I was wearing on Friday, and my bag is packed. Brendon picks up his keys from the table next to the door.

We get in his car and he drives me home in total silence. Neither of us are comfortable, and it's only because of each other. We pull into my driveway, and we both get out of the car.

"Thank you for letting me stay the weekend, Brendon." This is the most timid I've been since we met.

"It was my pleasure. I'll see you tomorrow, won't I?" Regardless of our wildly uncomfortable sexually fueled night and morning, I think we are still on moderately good terms. I Thank God.

As I open the front door, the phone begins to ring. What a strange coincidence. I pick up and there is a very excessive amount of yelling coming from the speaker.

"GRACE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN I HAVE BEEN CALLING YOU EVERY HOUR OF THE PAST TWO DAYS WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN YOUR FATHER AND I WERE SO WORRIED ARE YOU OKAY WHAT'S GOING ON WE HEARD ABOUT THE STORM ARE YOU-" And more shouting of that nature. I told them I spent the weekend with Conner. Luckily, they hadn't called Conner, but they had called Dawn.

"We spoke to Dawn. She said she hadn't heard from you either. Why weren't you answering your phone?" Confused, I check my phone, to see that it is in fact out of battery. I didn't even notice. It must have been dead since Friday night.

"Sorry my phone was dead and Conner's charger broke." I'm going to hell. After more lame excuses for why I wasn't checking my phone, or I wasn't home, or I wasn't checking my e-mails, my sweet, concerned mother hangs up the phone.

I flop onto my own sofa now. A fresh change. I open up my laptop while my phone is charging and check my social media. All my feeds are full of shit. Just full of people pretending to be themselves. Their profiles are digital montages of the most eye-catching and entertaining parts of their lives and everybody's buying it. It's a competition. Who is the most fulfilled? Or who is the most depressed in need of love and attention? Who cares? Not me. 

 My phone starts up and I hear a never-ending chain of chimes. I look down and there are about eight thousand messages from my group chat. Most of them are about the storm, but the last message that I receive is asking where I have been. I'm usually pretty active in the group chat, so my absence was noticeable.

Dawn: where the fuck is grace tho i tried to message her to tell her the sleepover was cancelled on friday and she hasnt even messaged back

Jackson: idk actually havent heard from her

Conner: probs been sleeping this whole time hahaha

That's a fair assumption, Conner.

Jackson: no but really where is she

Ruby: i havent heard from her since friday

Dawn: hold on ill call her

Sure enough, my phone begins to ring.

"Hello?" I pick up after barely one ring.

"Grace, where the fuck have you been all weekend?"

"Um, home." I can't afford to throw Brendon under the bus, even though nothing really happened. The risk is there, and that's all that matters.

"You're a liar, Grace. Where have you been?" Shit.

"I just turned everything off. I wanted to enjoy the storm in my own company." That should do it.

"Uh, alright then. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." We continue with a little bit of small talk, chatting about her shitty weekend with her relatives and their temporary partners all trapped in a house together for the entire weekend. At this point, I don't even really care. I just keep thinking about my own eventful weekend. A brief moment, the most exciting part of my life, unshared.

"See you tomorrow then?"

"Yep, see you then." Our conversation finally ends. The sun has already set. I have never been more keen on sleeping in my own bed.