"Am I interrupting something?" Allie's voice echoed throughout my head, scaring me senseless. I jumped back on impulse with so much force I almost knocked over the kitchen chair, but instead my ass fell right on top of it. "Oh, so I am," Allie smirked.
I stood back up, flustered, and said, "what? NO! You're not! H-he was just icing my forehead. You're not interrupting anything except my healing process." I heard a snort turned into a cough barely escape Ryan's mouth as I made eye contact with nobody, especially not Allie.
I am just full of luck today, arent't I?
"I'm sure that's all I'm interrupting," she replied with, I'm sure, that evil little smirk on her face that's been there all morning. If she's assuming things why can't I?
"Dude, he was just icing my forehead nothing happened!" my voice exclaimed louder than expected. Yes, Taylor, you are soo convincing.
"Yep, you're definitely not lying to me right now." I finally looked up at her non-believing demeanor and accusing eyes. "Because you wouldn't lie to your best friend, right?" Aw shit, this is awkward. But luckily, or non-luckily depending on how you look at it, I was saved from answering.
"I think we all know who her real best friend is, Allie."
Allie scoffed. "Yeah. Me."
"That's not what I meant," he said with a crease between his eyebrows making him look like a little boy forced to make a decision between his favorite candies. God, he's so cute. This reminded me of the time when he didn't understand why floors are called 'hard wood' rather than just 'wood'. I'm not making that up either; he actually had a mental debate about that not even a couple months ago that left him dumbfounded. His argument was 'all wood is hard.' What a special kid.
"Oh! So you meant you and Taylor are best friends..." she paused as if for dramatic effect. Leave it to Allie to try and bring drama into a situatuon.
"YES."
"...with benefits." Ah, there's the continuation I was looking for.
"NO." me and Ryan spat at the same time.
"That's not the vibe I'm getting," she said with a twinkle in her eyes.
"I am so done with this conversation," I sighed, tuning towards the island in the kitchen.
"Ditto," Ryan agreed, joining me in facing away from Allie.
"Only because I'm right!" Allie cheered.
"Did you just say ditto?" I asked a smile growing on my face.
"Um, of course I did!" Ryan replied with confidence. I laughed, shaking my head at his response.
"Ooooh!" I heard Allie coo out of the corner of my thoughts. She continued, "you guys made pancakes too? You must really be getting along..." My head jerked up at the sound of the word 'pancakes' as she started walking around the island to face us. Now I can definitely see that trademark smirk on her face.
"Sorry Allie, but we didn't make any pancakes," I stated with a sigh. A sad sigh, may I add.
"Yes you did. Why else would there be a stack of such decadance on the counter?" Allie questioned. I looked up again, searching for that oh-so-decadent stack of pancakes until my eyes landed on them. Oh, how beautiful. I honestly had no idea where they came from, not like I was complaining.
Ryan and I grabbed one from the stack. The difference between us though is I stuffed the pancake in my mouth, pleasure and warmth filling my mind and soul, whereas he held it like it was his dad's dirty underwear and looked at it in disgust. How could a pancake be so discriminated against? While I was still in cloud nine, he said, "Where the hell did these come from?" But before his question was answered, a much bigger problem walked into the room.
“Language, darling,” Kathy, Ryan’s mom, criticized walking into the room.
“Oh, i Mrs. Drue,” Allie and I stated like we were surprised yet programmed robots.
“Ms. Bullock, that is to you,” she corrected like we were the scum that gathered on her boots. “Now Ryan, darling, don’t make me regret getting you breakfast. Eat up. As for you two...” she said looking between me and Allie like we should be in the Guinness book of World Records for being the most obese, teenage females to walk this planet. "It is still swimsuit season." Rude much?
"Thanks for the concern, Mrs. Drue--" I started.
"Ms. Bullock," she more than harshly corrected.
"Thanks for the concern, Ms. Bullock, but I am perfectly okay with my weight, as is Allie."
"Well you shouldn't be." I heard her mumble to herself. Oh, I would so go all spider monkey on her right now if I wasn't so terrified of her. Damn this woman. First, she brings her only son his least favorite food for breakfast, and second, she disses us, his best friends. Does she really think she desserves respect??
“Kathy, a word,” Ryan demanded, pulling her into the connected living room out of eavesdropping reach. Or is it... hehe.
Thank God Ryan is the complete opposite of his mom though, and that’s to say the least. He is a hilarious, caring, and best friend that both me and Allie could ask for, and he is already a better person than his mother will ever be. And what is this ‘Ms. Bullock’ crap? Is she actually being passive aggressive and trying to tell us she’s getting divorced again? She is going through her men like I do hershey kisses. She just can't help unwrapping a new one to satisfy her appetite. What's next for her now? A sex tape? Maybe I’m being too judgmental?
Shaking off my thoughts, Allie and I huddled up to the den door to take back our right to eavesdropping on the world’s most dramatic duo.
“…are my friends, mom, you don’t treat them like that,” Ryan was saying.
“Oh darling, please, I can d—” his mom was saying heartily before Ryan cut her off.
“You DON’T talk to them like that. Got it?”
“Ryan, remember I just have your best interests in mind...”
“Mom, shut up.”
“…and they are just these replaceable, white-trash girls that are filthy in every way,…”
“Mom, what the hell!”
“… Do you see their eating habbits? Disgusting..."
"Yours used to be worse?"
"...You can just do so much better. I raised you to be a better man than…”
“That’s enough! You don’t get any say in who my friends are or what they’re like! They’re amazing people, mom, but of course you wouldn’t understand because you have no sense of morality left in you!”
“Ryan, I very well—”
“You should be glad I’m not who you ‘raised me’ to be. Be glad that I’m the spitting image of dad because when I was growing up, you were in your own psychotic bitch bubble that no one wanted to burst.” His mom gasped.
Not to ruin the heated conversation, but I remember Ryan's mom before her "phase," and she was actually the best mother there could be. Continue...
“...now please get out of this house before I do or say something I might regret.” I could just see how Ryan’s vein on his neck would be pulsing, ready to explode, and how he would be rubbing his forehead to relieve his anger. I know him too well... The worst thing though, is hearing his mom chuckle at his outburst.
“Oh, darling, you don’t really mean that.”
“Yes. I. Do,” he annunciated.
“Well, darling, if you do, you know just what I can do to make you see from my side of town…”
“Kathy, you are not going to threaten me.”
“…and believe me I don’t want to bring that on you again of all things,”—again? What is she talking about?— “but if you do believe everything you said, darling, you really do leave me no choice.”
“Oh my f*cking god—”
“What did I say about language, Ryan?”
“I don’t give a sh!t about your language rules, Kathy; you are no loving mother to me, not anymore, so whatever you’re threatening on me, go ahead and do it.” There was a pause in the conversation, only heavy breathing that I’m assuming was coming from Ryan. “But before you do, I would like to remind you of that trip to Miami. It was you, dad, me, Taylor, Allie, and dad's work associates. Oh, boy, was that a fun vacation or what? Do you remember it?” Ryan said sarcastically. I remember that, I wanted to say. Where is he going with this? "Oh, but of course you do. If I recall correctly--"
“Darling…”
“Don't!...call me darling. But I’m sure you remember how much fun you had on that two week trip because I sure remember a lot of stories if you’d like a recap.”
“I thought we agreed—”
“Agreed to what? To not bring it up?” Again, silence. “So if you don’t threaten me with that, I won’t threaten you with this.”
“Ryan—”
“Now that we’ve both agreed, please get your ass out of my house because I can’t stand the sight of you and your botoxed face.”
“Honey—“
“No 'honey's either! Stop trying to sweety-pie your way to my heart. This argument is over. Please leave.” Silence. Wow this is way too overwhelming, maybe we shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Then again, I’m not moving.
“Fine, okay, you got me I’ll stay away, but not forever Ryan, what I can do is more threatening than that weak information you’ve gotten on me.” Are these two actually mother and son?
“Out. Now.” Oh shit, that’s our cue. We scurry back to the counter and both grab one of the pancakes trying to make it look like we’re innocent. I mean, what’s better than cute, syrupy faces?
Ryan and his mom come out of the door a couple seconds later with a pure rigid air between them.
“See, darling, at least someone appreciates my food,” she says looking at us and then the pancakes like she’s mentally deciding if she should grab one. She didn’t. “Even if this someone should be cutting it back a little,” she added walking through the room like she owned the place. Which she kind of does.
I stuff the pancake the rest of the way into my mouth, knowing she was talking about Allie and me and say, “Look bitch, we’re going to eat these pancakes and we look hot doing it," I accidentally snapped. She looked at me like I had three heads, and then dramatically turned around and walked away.
“Have a good day!” Allie add as the woman walks away with no words coming out of her mouth. "Sike!"
We hear the door shut and we all breathe like it was for the first time. “Ugh, that bitch doesn’t even acknowledge us when we're screwing with her,” Allie comments, face-palming her head.
“I know, but whatever,” I say. "At least we're hot and she's not," I said with a smirk on my face.
"Damn right!" Allie agreed as we high fived. I look up at Ryan to see no expression, like he’s completely frozen. “Hey, Ry, are you alright?” Silence. “Ry," I said resting my hand on his shoulder.
“What? Yeah, I’m great,” he says going for nonchalance but completely failing. I raise my eyebrows, but he just looks away and grabs a pancake ignoring everything. “I'm fucking great. These pancakes are delish by the way..”
Allie and I look at each other. “Ryan, do you want to talk—” Allie started.
“You just ate a pancake!" I exclaimed. "He just ate a pancake!" I said looking at Allie. "Looks like someone owes me twenty bucks. ‘I don’t eat carbs’ my ass! Carbs are what you live on,” I rambled on remembering our bet. Ryan has never eaten a pancake in his entire life—right! He’s completely insane!—and for a long time all I did was try to get him to eat one. Finally, after still not giving in, we set up a bet that has lasted 3 years without him eating a pancake. Until now, of course, since he’s eating away his feelings and giving me his money. Score one for me.
"Taylor," Allie nudged me with gritted teeth and then whispered under her breath, "not now."
But Ryan just pulled a $20 bill out of his pocket, threw it on the table, stuffed the pancake the rest of the way in his mouth and said, “Go get yourself something fancy ‘ms. nothing was happening,’” and then walked away.
I blinked twice at what he said and his changed attitude, and then took a double take as Ryan actually started leaving the room. ‘Nothing was happening?’ Does he mean about earlier with the icing my forehead? I shook my head and looked at Allie’s puzzled face and looked back to the empty doorway.
“Ryan! Wait! Where are you going?” I called, leaping up from my chair. As I got through the doorway he was just exiting the front door. “Ryan, stop.”
He didn’t listen and just slammed the front door. What the hell just happened? One second he’s all smiles, the next he’s all devil. We weren't the ones who made his mood like this, that was his mother. But despite his bipolar-ness, I'm not going to let him get away this easy. “Ryan!” I yelled as I ran out of the door, but instead ran right into his pacing body on the porch. “Oh, sorry,” I mumbled as Allie followed me out the door.
“Ryan, are you all right?” Allie asked with 100% concern showing on her face.
“Guys, I’m okay, you don’t need to follow me around like little puppies to their master,” he retorted, clearly frustrated beyond belief. I mean who wouldn’t be after that argument?
“Alright, Ryan,” I started, challenging him with my eyes. “We’re not leaving until you tell us what’s actually wrong.”
“Why would you think something’s wrong?” he says, plastering a smile on his face.
“Ha-ha, Ryan. Don’t be stupid," I said. "You just ate a pancake! Of course something’s wrong with you!”
“And you just stormed out of the house like the Tasmanian Devil,” Allie said, giving the obvious and only sane answer.
He let out a short breath and said, “Girls, I’m fine,” and put his hands up in a defensive, spirit finger formation. “Just mommy problems. I’ll be going now, see you all later.”
He walked off the front porch with a wave and the start of his car. Allie and I looked at each other for the second time today, both thinking the same thing: Ryan is having a breakdown. Time to get worried.