The Diary of Ryan Ross

chapter ten

November 25, 2004

In case you were wondering, I hate holidays. I used to like them, especially Christmas and New Years and Thanksgiving.

I don't anymore.

Ever since my mom died, holidays seemed like an excuse for my dad and I to forget our shitty lives. We would sit around a table, the two of us, around a table set for three. Dad doesn't like them either, so we don't make a big deal out of them anymore. They don't matter as much to us.

My dad called me downstairs around seven last night.

"Ryan?" He called from the foot of the staircase. I turned off my radio and walked towards the door.

"Yes, father?" It pisses him off when I call him that, so I make sure to do it often. I'm not being mean, I just think that wet blanket needs a laugh every now and then.

"Your friend is calling you," I'm assuming he means Brendon, so I rush down the stairs. I grab the phone and walk back upstairs, my dad shaking his head and heading back to the kitchen. I close my door and jump onto my bed.

"Hey, baby," I said, smiling.

"You really shouldn't start off calls like that," a voice that definitely does not belong to Brendon says.

"Christ. Um, hey Spence," I mutter. Goddammit, self.

"What are you doing right now?" Spencer asks, completely unfazed.

"Wallowing in a hole of embarrassment and self pity, you?" I mutter. Jesus.

"Talking to you." Spencer replies. Such a creative response. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Thanksgiving,"

"Thanks for pointing that out," He said in a monotone. "I had no idea. Cmon Ryan, are you busy or not?" By this point, Spencer sounds kind of pissed off, which is hardly surprising. Everything pisses him off.

"Well, no. Not really," I said after a longish silence. "Why do you ask? Don't you have to spend it with your family or something?"

"Yeah, but it's some gross extravaganza and my mom always asks me to invite a friend. I can't invite Jon, for obvious reasons. And I really don't want to relive what happened with Brendon last year." I was about to ask what happened last year, but finally decided against it. "So I chose you," Spencer said.

"Wow I really love being everyone's last choice," I replied. It is true. No one ever thinks, Wow! A fun event! Y'know, I think I'm gonna invite Ryan! He's a rad dude. No, that never happens. I'm always chosen last.

"Ryan, don't," Spencer murmured. "Don't say that, man. I'm just. I'm inviting you because I want you there. You're like my," He sighs. "My best friend."

I set the phone down on my bed. Best friend. I'm his best friend. It's a silly thing to be so excited about but best friend? I shouldn't be getting excited over this. This is just depressing.

"Ryan?" I hear Spencer ask.

"Hey, yeah. Um, I'm here," I reply. Theres a long silence over the line. "But are you still here?"

"I am," He answers.

"So I'm your best friend?"

"Get off your fucking high horse, you dumbass," Spencer yells.

"Well, glad to have you back."

"Tomorrow. Six thirty. Be there,"

"Or be square," I say, but he hangs up because apparently my witty response isn't enough for him.