"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Every door is locked. There's no way I can fit through the windows. And I'm fucking locked in the school for the weekend.
Way to go, Brendon!
Who ever thought to lock the school doors with keys, is a moron. Normal people use deadbolts. That would make my life easier. Then I could go home. No one will be here for the whole weekend and there's nothing I can do about it.
I decided to go try the doors in the back of the building again. Not that anything would have changed.
It's creepy being in school after hours. No lights on, the hallways are dark. All the classrooms are dark. I wonder if any of them are open.
God, this is going to suck. This is how ghost stories start in schools. I'm going to die.
-
The doors are still very much locked. I might as well just deal with it. I won't be out of here until Monday.
"You too?" I jumped at the voice behind me and turned around.
"Great." I rolled my eyes and started to walk past him. "I'll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine."
"Good idea," he said. "but wouldn't it be a better idea if we figured out a way to get out of here?"
I stopped and turned around.
"I've already tried. We're not getting out until Monday." And I walked away, leaving him in the hallway by himself.
How the hell does this happen!? How do I get stuck with him? This can't be happening.
I try my hardest to stay away from him during school hours, how am I going to do that when we're the only ones here, for a whole weekend?
He'll probably tell everyone that I planned it. That it was all a big plan to get ourselves locked in the school.
Then everyone will hate me even more.
Fuck you, Ross. Fuck you.
-
It's been a couple of hours since I ran into Ryan. I'm starving, but that's normal.
I haven't been eating much lately because I want to lose weight and if I eat, then that won't happen. But I'm sure a poptart from the cafeteria won't hurt.
I stayed on the second floor just sitting in the hallway, because there's nothing else to do. Ryan's not come up here at all, thank God. That's what's best for the both of us.
Can you believe we were actually friends once? Well, kind-of-friends.
Back in middle school, we'd get paired together for projects and sometimes we'd have to go to each others houses. But other than that, we never spoke to each other.
And then we got to high school. He was in most of my classes and he got seated next to me or in front of me. He actually seemed like he wanted to be friends until the day he told me to leave him alone and to go fuck myself. I never could figure out why he hated me so much.
Oh, and that one time at that party that we both got invited to. It was over the summer last year. Jon is best friends with Ryan and I'm best friends with Spencer and Spencer and Jon are best friends. I think they're more than friends, to be honest, but I won't get into that right now. Anyway, Jon's mom agreed to buy him a bunch of alcohol if he cleaned the entire house for two weeks. So that happened.
I arrived to Jon's house with Spencer and there was a lot of people there. People I didn't even know existed. And of course, Ryan was there.
Wearing his stupid pin striped slacks and his stupid white button up and his stupid face. He looked fucking hot and I hated him for hating me.
I was drinking a lot. I don't think I got drunk, but I was pretty buzzed and from what I can remember, so was Ryan.
Everyone decided on playing truth or dare, the dirty kind, and someone dared Ryan and I to -
"Hi." His voice cut through my thoughts and made my heart race. Like it always does.
"What?" I said almost bitterly.
"Just saying hi. No need to be all pissed off." He was walking beside me now, following me to the cafeteria. "Where are we going?"
"I'm going to the cafeteria. I don't know where you're going."
"I guess I'm going, too." I rolled my eyes and kept walking, trying to get away from him. "You do realize my legs are longer than yours and no matter how fast you try to walk, I'll catch up to you. You know that right?" He said mockingly.
"Why are you talking to me?" I turned to face him, this ignorant grin on his lips. "Why is this any different than before?"
"Well there's nothing else to do -"
"So just fuck with me, right? That'll cure your bordem." I've suddenly lost whatever appetite I've had. "Just do us both a favor and go back to ingoring me and hating me like you do everyday." I pushed past him and walked up the staircase.
"I don't hate you, Brendon." I heard him say.
I scoffed and kept going.
-
Two of the classrooms upstairs were unlocked and one of them had the TV stand in it. But the movies sucked and I've already seen most of them already.
"This is so fucking stupid." I sighed to myself, leaning back in the teachers rolling chair.
You know, it's not fair that they get these comfortable chairs to sit in and all we get are hard, uncomfortable chairs that make my ass hurt. The school system is all fucked up, if you ask me.
The computer has a password on it, or I would have tried getting ahold of someone to get me the hell out of here and away from Ryan.
My stomachs growling. I hate it.
It hurts.
Maybe if I'm quiet, I can sneak into the cafeteria and grab a poptart before Ryan sees me.
Yeah, and what if he's in there?
Just walk away from him again.
Grab your poptart and leave. Yeah, do that.
I walked as fast as I could to the cafeteria and found the doors to the lunch line area were already opened. Obviously, Ryan was here.
I walked in slowly and saw the rack that the poptarts were on and I grabbed one.
"You should eat more," Ryan's voice said. I closed my eyes and sighed. "I never see you eat lunch. And you look like you've lost weight. Too much weight, actually."
"What's it to you?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't answer.
"Because eating disorders are life threatening and it can be very bad for you."
"And you would know, right? Because you know everything." I scoffed.
"Yeah. I do know. Because I went through the same thing. I thought I was fat and it wasn't until I actually looked in the mirror that I realized how sick I was. How sick I looked. My ribs and hipbones were showing clearly, like they were just covered with skin. It was gross." I turned around and looked at him.
"Why do you care what I'm going through? You barely know me at all. You don't know what I go through." Ryan put his head down and leaned against the door frame.
"You don't have to know someone that well to care about them." He said quietly. I felt my heart rate pick up and my palms felt sweaty and what? I laughed, because that seemed like the right thing to do. Ryan looked up at me.
"You don't care about me. You never have and you never will. I think being locked in here is starting to get to your head." I tried walking past him, but I was pulled back. He grabbed my arm.
"And you don't know me that well to know what I go through or how I feel." Why is he doing this to me? "I actually pay attention to you, you know. I pay attention to all the little things you do. The way you bite your lip when you're trying to focus on something. The way you pull on your hair when you're frustrated. And the one thing that I really pay attention to, is how you don't eat. You grab a tray and pick at it, but I never see you bring the fork to your mouth. Never. And it drives me fucking crazy because you're not fat. I don't even know why you started thinking that."
"Stop," I pulled my arm from his grip and stepped back. "just stop. Stop watching me. Stop paying attention to me. Just leave me alone." I don't know why his words hurt me so much.
I angrily threw the poptart that I wanted so bad on the floor and walked away. But Ryan was walking behind me. Of course he was.
"We need to talk," he said. "about a lot of things. And we should do it now."
"No!" I yelled. "I don't want to talk to you! Ever! You're just trying to be nice to me -"
"I'm not trying to be nice to you. I am being nice to you. I'm always nice to you, you just never notice it." I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at him.
"What are you talking about?"
"The notes in your locker? Me. The new guitar picks you found on your desk last week? Me. The shirt that magically appeared in your locker after you spilled gatorade on you, that was me too. It looked good on you, by the way."
"All of that was you? Even the stupid balloons they brought me from the Depot and the stupid gift card to that stupid fancy restaurant that I never even used? Why?"
"You never used that?" Ryan asked. "That was like fifty dollars!"
"Why!? Stop doing things for me. If this is some sick way of you trying to secretly be my friend, stop. I don't want to be your friend. I don't want you to be nice to me, I don't want anything from you. You're an asshole. That's all you'll ever be." I should have known those words weren't going to fly with Ryan. He hates being called an asshole. I know that.
And now I'm being cornered and Ryan's got his hands on the wall beside me, his arms blocking me from moving.
"I'm sorry you hate me. I know I've been an asshole to you lately, but I've got my reasons."
"And what reasons might those be? Because if I remember correctly, I've been the one trying to talk to you and all you've done is yell at me and call me names and tell me to stop bothering you. Are those your reasons?"
"No. You know my reasons." He said. "Back at the party -"
I laughed.
"Are you kidding me? I have tried and tried to talk to you about what happened and you blow me off every time! You act like it never happened!" Ryan sighed. "Well, it did Ryan. It happened and there's no taking it back."
"I know it happened, I was there. And that's the fucking problem. I wanted it to happen. And then it did and I was so confused and -" He paused, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I think about it all the time." He spoke quietly, more calmly.
"Bullshit. You don't get to fuck me with me like this."
"I'm not, Brendon." He said subtly.
"I'm not falling for this," I laughed. "it's probably some kind of joke. You don't care about. You didn't want anything that happened between us to happen. You're just saying that because we're stuck here, together, and if you think saying all this is going to get you into my pants again, you're wrong." I pushed Ryan out of my way and went back upstairs to get my backpack.
Hopefully the music room is open.
-
I sat in front of the piano and opened my lyric book, setting it up in front of me. I placed my fingers on the piano keys and started playing.
"Placing a smile at the perfect event, gracing your skin with the side of my hand.
If I ever leave, I could learn to miss you. But Sentimental Boy is my nom de plume.
Let me save you, hold this rope.
I may never sleep tonight, as long as you're still burning bright.
If I could trade mistakes for sheep, count me away before you sleep.
I'll stay awake til I trade my mistakes or they fade away."
I sang quietly, fucked up a key and slammed my hands down on the piano.
"Did you write that?" He just doesn't understand what leave me alone means, does he? "It's nice. I like it."
And then he was sitting next to me on the bench.
"What do you want?"
"I heard you playing when I was walking down the hall," he said. "thought I'd listen. You're really good, you know."
"Thanks. But I don't want your compliments." I angrily flipped the pages in my lyric book and stopped on a different song.
"Collar Full." Ryan read the title. "What's it about?" I could see his eyes skimming the words on the page.
"It's just a song." I placed my fingers back on the keys and started playing the notes I had written down. But I didn't sing.
"Why aren't you singing?" Ryan asked. "Or is this one of those songs with a crazy long intro?" He smiled.
I shook my head and kept playing.
"I don't feel like singing anymore."
"Is it because I'm here?" I nodded.
Ryan didn't say anything after that. But he stayed and sat next to me and watched me play. I could feel his eyes burning into me, watching my hands move along the piano keys.
I finished the song and closed my lyric book and stood up.
"Can we just talk please?" Ryan grabbed my wrist, stopping me from walking away.
"You know, I can't help but think you somehow had something to do with us being locked here."
"That's funny," Ryan laughed. "I was in here, actually. Packing my guitar up and going over my notes for the test on Monday. I hadn't even realized that everyone was gone and and all the doors were locked."
"So you didn't plan this?" I asked. Ryan shook his head.
"No, but I'm glad you're here with me. Just wish you'd talk to me." His voice trailed off and he kept hold of my wrist. "Sit down." He said.
I sat down looked at the floor.
"What?"
"We should talk about the party," he said. "about what happened."
"It was nothing. We were dared to make out, that's all. You just took it too far. You were drunk."
"I wasn't drunk," Ryan said shaking his head. "I only had one beer. I don't like drinking. You were drunk."
"I was not! I was just a little buzzed. It's not like I don't remember anything that happened. Trust me, I remember." Ryan's hand loosened around my wrist but he kept it there.
"I'm sorry if I forced you into anything. I just couldn't help it, you looked so hot and the way you kissed me only turned me on even more. I tried to stop myself, but it was too hard."
"Is that what you tell all the people you sleep with?" Our eyes met and he grinned.
"No," he answered. "I've only ever slept with you."
My eyes widened.
"You're lying."
"I'm not." He sighed. "Wish I were, honestly. But I'm not. You're the only person I've slept with. That's one of the reasons I've avoided you."
"Because that makes sense." I rolled my eyes.
"I was afraid of the feelings I was getting for you. I thought that maybe if I stayed away from you, they'd go away. Do you know what people would say if they saw us together? The quiet, shy kid and the popular, outgoing kid? People would talk."
"Oh, right. I forgot how important other peoples opinions are. I'll remember that the next time I want to do something that someone else would disapprove of. Thanks for reminding me." Ryan will never change. He'll always be worried about what people say. Especially if it's got anything to do with him. And apparently, anything to do with me. "So did avoiding me and being an asshole rid you of the so-called feelings you have or had for me?"
"Would be believe me if I said no?" He asked in a quiet voice.
"I don't know what to believe from you. How am I supposed to know if you're being honest with me? You've always stayed away from me, ignored me, whatever. I don't think you did all that just to make some feelings go away. There's gotta be more to it than you're saying."
"Goddammnit, Brendon!" Ryan stood up and pulled on his hair. "What do I have to do to prove it to you? Everything I've told you is the truth. And you're just going to shoot me down."
"You're a well known liar, Ryan. Even you know that. I'm surprised you believe anything you -" Ryan turned around and made me lean back against the piano, his hands resting against the keys and his face dangerously close to mine.
"I've done nothing but dream about what I want to do to you," he spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper. Chills ran all throughout my body and I'm pretty sure I shivered. "all I think about is the way your body moves underneath mine. Those desperate moans you make. Your fucking ass, tight and hot and needy." Ryan inched closer, his nose lightly brushing against mine. "D'you have any idea how bad I want to fuck you right now? How bad I've wanted to fuck you senseless for the past year?" I couldn't form words, only shake my head. "No? How about I show you? Will you believe me then?"
I nodded slowly and Ryan's lips were on mine, almost forcefully and his tongue was being pushed past my lips.
"Ryan," I said against his lips. I put my hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away. "Ryan, stop." I pushed him back and stared at him, breathing heavily.
"What?" He asked, clearly confused. "You just said -"
"I didn't say anything. You're fucking with my head." I stood up and walked toward the door. "I can't do this. Maybe if you still feel this way when we're not locked here for the weekend, and you're hormones aren't spinning out of control, maybe then we'll talk. Until then, just stay away from me. Please." I walked out the door and I could hear Ryan muttering things to himself and the sound of something being thrown, I'm guessing.
I went back upstairs and into the classroom with the TV. I stayed there for the rest of the night and Ryan hasn't bothered me once.
—-
This is just something I thought of last night. I was going to write it in third person, but I suck at writing stories like that. So yeah. The whole thing will most likely be Brendon's point of view.