I woke up the next morning to my phone ringing. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, searching for my phone. It was conveniently but strangely placed to my right, almost under my pillow. I picked it up without even looking at who was calling and answered.
"Hello?" I asked, sleep still very obvious in my voice.
"Hey Brendon," Ryan's voice rang from the other line and I could almost see his smile.
"Hey," I smiled. "Sorry for running out yesterday, I-I don't really know what happened and I feel so ba-"
"Brendon, it's fine. Andy diagnosed you with cabin fever after you left-"
"I self-diagnosed myself with cabin fever after watching an episode of Mythbusters last night!"
He chuckled. "Good for you." He almost sounded sarcastic (but then again, he always did).
"So, I'm guessing the storm cleared up?" I asked.
"Not really," he said. "I'm using Andy's super-fancy, super-green, super-high-tech phone."
"Ok, cool. But my cell's doing fine."
"I guess the super-high-techy-ness of this phone rubs off on your less techy one."
"Watchu tryna say?"
He laughed. "What?"
"Watchu tryna say 'bout mah fown?"
"Uh, nothing, I..." He laughed again. "You're cute when you talk like that."
"Oh, guurrl, you be playin'." I blushed anyways.
"I'm not playing, I just-" He was interrupted by a loud cheering from where he was.
I smiled. "What happened?"
"The power just came back on."
"Cool." I hadn't even noticed that the power was on my own house.
"Is the power on at your house?"
"Yeah, it was on when I got here."
"I kinda figured. Since we're out of city limits and everything."
"Ok." I didn't say anything else because I didn't know what city limits were and what they had to do with power. "So, why did you call me?"
"Oh, right, uh, I just wanted to say 'good morning'."
"Ok. Well, good morning."
I could hear the smile in his voice. "Good morning."
I smiled and pulled my covers up higher. "So how long do you think we'll be out of school?"
"I dunno. Hopefully until the end of school year."
I laughed. "But seriously. Do you think it'll be until New Year's?"
"Hopefully past then."
We laughed and I heard noises from downstairs that meant breakfast and realized how hungry I was.
"Hey, um, I gotta go," I said.
"Ok," he said. "They want to start another marathon of Rock Band anyways. I'll see you later."
"Ok," I chuckled. "Bye."
"Bye."
I hung up the phone and walked out of my room. I was walking down the hallway, but my stride was interrupted by James opening his door.
"Hey," he said, kind of aggressively, mostly loudly. "Next time you're on the phone with your boyfriend and I'm in the next room trying to sleep, try to keep the fuck down." I blinked at him and he slammed the door.
Huh. Irony.
I continued walking down the hall, turning it into a strut when I thought about the sassy comebacks I should've said.
I went into the kitchen and had breakfast with the people in my family that weren't total dicks. I thought about playing some stuff for Clara, but decided against it. If she asked me, I wouldn't say no, but I wouldn't be the one to bring it up.
She didn't ask and I had a pretty boring day. I slept a lot. I didn't know why.
The next day, I felt more proactive, so I took the top of the plastic tote for the Christmas decorations and went sledding. I bundled up and went to the top of the hill on the next street over. There were a bunch of kids already there. None my age (I felt so special). I used the lid as a snowboard and fell over before I started. I got back up and tried going down on my tummy (with the lid, of course). I continued sledding down and walking back up and sledding down and walking back up for a while until I decided I was ready.
Ready to go down on my feet.
I threw the tote lid down and stepped on it. Just like skateboarding, I told myself as I took a deep breath. I pushed off and slid down, doing pretty well, until I hit a bump and lost my balance. I wobbled and tripped off the lid and fell onto somebody that I hadn't noticed before. They had caught me and helped me regain my balance.
"Oh, man," I said. "I'm so sor-" I looked up at the person and smiled. "Oh, hey, Ryan."
"Hey," he said, smiling back at me.
"Thanks for catching me," I said.
"Any time," he replied.
We were still kind of hugging, so I pulled away and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets.
"So, what are you doing over here?" I asked, regretting getting out of the hug (can I even call it a hug?), missing his warmth.
"Um, I'm checking out the area for good places to sled," he said, "and I think I just found the perfect place."
I smiled bigger at him and he smiled back.
He went away and brought back the gang with their makeshift sleds like mine. Trash can lids, tote lids and Spencer even had a shower curtain.
I held my hand out as they walked up the sidewalk to the top of the hill and received high-fives from each of them. Ryan was last and he grabbed my hand to hold it as we walked together to the top of the hill.
We sled for a while. I didn't know exactly how long but it didn't matter; we had fun.
The best part was probably when Spencer was going down the hill and then hit the same bump I had earlier and fell out of his shower curtain and tumbled down the hill. He rolled until he got to the bottom and landed on his feet. Everyone there cheered and gave him high-fives.
My family came a little while later with their own makeshift sleds. I traded my lid for Spencer's shower curtain so I could slide down with Clara. Then Mom and Dad used it. James looked grumpy, so I didn't talk to him.
I went home when my family did, offering for the gang to come with. They politely declined and went home, too.
I was very hungry and very tired, so I had dinner and went down to the basement to practice before I went to bed. I got too tired to go up two flights of stairs, so I found a blanket and slept on the couch down there. I dreamt that the snow was actually marshmallows and we had sleds that were mugs of hot cocoa that kept us warm(?) (I swear, my dreams get weirder and weirder every night).
I was woken up abruptly by an ear-splitting guitar solo (that I would've complemented if I wasn't so sleepy and angry). I fell off the couch, tangled in the checkered blanket.
I groaned at the floor and the person who awoke me from my slumber.
I heard James laughing. Of course it's James, I thought.
I rolled over as his guffawing got closer. He better not have...
I looked up at him standing over me and saw that he was. He had played my favorite guitar. And he was going to pay for it.
He had calmed down to a gross chuckle. "Huh huh, gotcha," he said.
I stood up, letting the blanket drop to the floor.
"Could you please put her down?" I asked calmly.
"What?" he asked. "Do you want me to put the guitar down? It's an it."
"Not to me," I said. "She sings."
"You make it sing, dipwad. It's an inanimate object."
"She is my favorite guitar. And I'd appreciate it if-"
"-If I put it down?"
I sighed. "Yes."
He shrugged. "Nah."
"Excuse me?"
"Nah," he repeated.
I clenched my fists and closed my eyes. "James, please."
"Nah." I could hear the cocky smile in his voice.
"Put her back or..."
"Or what? Are you gonna get your boyfriend to come down here and get me?"
That was it. I opened my eyes and stepped closer to him. He was still smirking at me.
"You put her down or I will literally cut you to pieces with her strings," I growled, staring into his eyes.
He scoffed and glanced away. "You wouldn't." He looked back down at me and his cocky smile faded.
I held my gaze and the message came across.
I watched him as he slowly pulled the strap off over his head and handed me her. He backed away slowly, watching me carefully.
"Uh, Mom says breakfast is ready," he said. "Just, uh, come up whenever you, uh, are... ready." He backed into the wall next to the door and scrambled for the handle. He found it and quickly opened the door and went up the stairs. I heard him bump his head and couldn't help but crack a smile.
Drama club comes in handy sometimes.
I turned down the amp and closed the door before checking and making sure she was alright. She was slightly out of tune, but fine overall.
I tuned her, then went upstairs. Acted like everything was fine (because it kinda was). I hugged Mom and when no one was looking except James, I dragged my finger across my neck and glared the same way I had before. He quickly looked back down at his waffles (I think I almost made him wet himself. Man, I wish he had. That woulda been great).
I had eggs and drank orange juice, occasionally slowly (and creepily) looking up at James when I knew he was looking at me. He would always quickly look back down.
I couldn't wait to tell the gang about this.
*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*
I had a boring week. I called Ryan whenever I could, but had to get through awkward small talk with Andy first (the storm was still way too bad to use our regular phones). I had decided to save the whole James thing until we could all talk in person.
It progressively got warmer and warmer throughout the week and Dad went back to work a day after Clara and James went back to college. I worked on some paper for a boring class and called Ryan on his cell phone.
It worked(!) and he answered after a few rings. "Hey," he answered.
"Hey!" I exclaimed, then added, imitating Joey from Friends, "How you doin'?"
He laughed, but it was half-hearted. "Not much, uh, what's up with you?" He sounded rushed, but I continued like he didn't because if he was in the middle of something, he wouldn't've answered or would tell me.
"Not a lot, just wanted to call you so you could distract me from writing a boring paper," I said, leaning back in my chair.
"Well, uh, that sounds important," he said, still sounding rushed. "I don't want to distract you from something important. You need to finish it."
"I got until past New Year's, remember? All the time in the world is what I have. Tell me what's going on there. Where are you?"
"Um, I'm in my room and... Look, uh, I'm kinda busy; can I call you back?"
"Yeah, of course. Call back whenev-" I looked at my phone. He had hung up on me. "Love you, too." I said sarcastically, setting my phone down.
I finished the (extremely) stupid paper before laying on my bed. I frowned at the ceiling before I got an idea. I got my phone from my pocket and called Mom.
"Brendon, why are you calling me when we are literally in the same house?" Mom answered the phone.
"Because I'm lazy," I said. "And I have an idea I need to ask your permission for." I asked her if it would be ok if I invited the gang over for New Year's. She said it was ok ("I just kind of assumed they would be coming over anyways.")
After I finished talking to her, I called Patrick because Ryan was probably way too busy for me (sarcasm helps subside the sorrow (and jealousy (but who's counting?))).
Patrick picked up and I asked him if they'd like to come over for New Year's. His thoughts were similar to Mom's ("Yeah, either we go over there or you come over here. It's kind of an unspoken rule.").
I asked about Ryan (because I can't help myself (I have a problem)) and Patrick said he thought he was napping.
He could've been crotchety from lack of nap, I thought. Or ready for a cigarette break. Or going to the tattoo shop. Or talking to Daniel. (I wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but I wasn't stupid.)
I finished my conversation with Patrick and hung up.
*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...*
New Year's was getting so close I could smell it. On the last day of the year, I walked over to the Ross-Smith-Stump house at lunchtime (but I ate lunch at home because Mom makes the best sandwiches). We walked to my house around three and Mom and Dad were surprised, I thought. I didn't think they expected that many people (five more than the usual group).
We just kinda sat around the whole day. Josh and Tyler brought Red Bulls that I assumed were for later, but they drank them in, like, the first second of being there. I didn't even have a chance to ask to have one. They were just slurp, boom, gone.
Some of us were sitting on the couch watching TV when I noticed Ryan had fallen asleep with his head leaning on my shoulder. I pushed it back up and that seemed to wake him up.
"What?" he asked, sitting up completely. "What happened?"
"You fell asleep," I told him. "You can't fall asleep. It's New Year's Eve. It's the whole point."
He stretched slightly and rubbed his eye. "Ok." He slouched and stared at the TV with the rest of us.
After a while, I got up and went into the kitchen and Ryan followed me. We snacked and talked and joked and closer to eight Ryan disappeared from my side. I looked around the kitchen/dining room, then checked the living room before walking upstairs. I checked the bathroom, the guest rooms (the one that James was in still grossly smelled of him), and finally checked my room and found him.
He was laying on my bed, curled in a ball with his eyes closed (awh).
"Ryan," I whispered (which made no sense because I was trying to wake him up). I cleared my throat and tried again. "Ryan." I took a step closer and placed a hand on his arm. "Ryan, wake up." I shook him and he slowly opened his eyes.
He furrowed his eyebrows at the ceiling and asked, "Daniel?"
"No," I said. "Brendon."
"Oh." He blinked at me and sat up. "Is it midnight already?" he asked.
"No, but you can't fall asleep!" I pulled him up by his arm. "Especially in my bed."
"But it's so comfy," he said, turning and stroking my duvet. He started leaning down again. "And I'm so sleepy."
I pulled him up on to his feet. "You are not falling asleep again," I told him. I took his hand and started walking. "You're coming back downstairs with me."
He sleepily followed me downstairs and into the living room. He said he wanted to go back into the kitchen around ten and thirty minutes later I got suspicious. I looked everywhere and couldn't find him. I ended up back in the kitchen to get some hot cocoa and I heard snoring when I took the first sip.
I looked around, nearly spilling the cocoa, because it scared me. I put my cocoa down and started looking again. Laundry room? Nope. Under the table? Nada. I focused on where the noise was coming from and found him in the cabinet.
"Ryan?" I asked loud enough to wake him up.
He opened his eyes and lifted his head quickly, bumping his head on the top of the cabinet. He groaned and rubbed the spot he had bumped and I held him in the cabinet because I was afraid he'd fall out. He rubbed his eyes and then I helped him down.
"How did you get up there?" I asked.
He thought for a second before looking at me, a mix of horror and amusement on his face. "I don't remember," he said.
We busted out laughing and that's when I realized he knocked my cocoa over when I helped him down. We cleaned it up and decided to join everyone in the living room to watch the countdown.
Ryan got up to use the bathroom around eleven and when we were going outside a quarter till midnight, I went to the hall closet to get my jacket. I opened the door and found him sitting on the floor of it with my jacket on. I pushed all the jackets out of the way and sat down with him.
"Hey," I said. He kept sleeping. "Hey, wake up." I shook him and he woke up.
"Happy New Year!" Ryan shouted, throwing his hands in the air.
"No, not yet," I said before standing up. I held my hand out. "Come on, we're all going outside to see the fireworks. You can keep my jacket on." He stood up and I grabbed a random jacket from the closet.
We walked outside holding hands. Mom and Dad had laid out blankets on the front yard and put extra chairs on the porch for tonight. We did this every year. You could always see more from the front yard.
Ryan and I sat down on a blanket and I looked across the street. Alex lived right across from me and I saw the gates to his backyard open. All the goons (including Brent and Vic) ran out of the gate naked. They were streaking as the clock struck twelve and fireworks boomed everywhere.
Spencer and Joe wolf-whistled as they ran down the street and I covered my eyes. I held in the feeling to throw up and glanced over at Ryan, who was laughing softly and filming it with his phone. I laid back and ignored everyone and just watched the fireworks.
After a while, Ryan laid there with me and held my hand (I don't mean to sound cheesy, but our hands were, like, made for each other's).
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.
"Not as much as you are," I said, still blushing from the complement.
"Aww," he said. "You're cuter, though."
"No, you're cuter," I said.
"Then you're the cutest," he said.
"And that makes you-" I was interrupted by Spencer.
"I don't want to interrupt you guys's whole lovey-dovey thing," Spencer said, smiling, "but you may want to see this." He pointed across the street.
Brent and the goons had come back and were all huddled behind Vic, who had covered himself with his SnapBack (he also had his hair in braids(?)). Standing in front of them was a man who I recognized as Alex's dad. He was wearing his work uniform, blue shirt, black slacks and a badge (he was a police officer). He was talking at them angrily, gesturing with his hands to emphasize. He pointed to the gate and Alex walked through the gate ashamedly.
Alex's dad kept yelling and we heard, "...until your parents get here!" before he walked through the front door, slamming it.
All the goons scattered across the yard and stood/sat in various places, none of them really talking to each other. I took this moment to count all the goons.
Alex, Jack, Brent, Vic, Gerard, Frank, and a few other guys I didn't recognize.
Everyone (well, all the kids at least) were laughing. We laughed until it wasn't funny (which took a while, to be honest).
When I slipped back into a debate of cuteness with Ryan, someone pssted at me from across the street.
I looked over and furrowed my eyebrows at everybody. The person pssted at me again.
I kept looking and eventually Jack said, "Hey, Brendon. Over here."
"What?" I asked him rather rudely.
"Can you lend me some pants?" he asked.
"What?" I asked. "No."
"Come on, please," he said. "It's freezing out."
"Then you shouldn't've streaked," I replied.
He scoffed. "Fine." Then he added under his breath, "Rude."
I scoffed back at him and lay down on the blanket.
Ryan and I lay there, switching between watching the fading fireworks show and goons being taken home by upset parents. We alternated falling asleep on the blanket until Mom told me to go inside and the gang wanted to go home.
I just about fell asleep on the stairs on the way to my room. I got up there and stripped down (because I slept in my boxer-briefs. Get over it) before getting I to bed. I was about to turn out my lamp when my phone rang.
"Hey, cutie-patootie," I answered, because the caller ID said it was Ryan.
"Hey," he said. "I just wanted to call to say 'goodnight'."
"Ok," I said. "Go ahead."
He laughed. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
I hung up the phone and turned out my lamp. I fell asleep and dreamt that I had fireworks that, when they exploded in the air, were in the shape of Ryan's face (but one looked like Matt LeBlanc (Joey from Friends)). Dreams are crazy (and super great).