Abomination (Ryden)

Chapter 9

It turns out, Spencer's mad at Ryan too. And of course, it's for the exact same reason Jon's mad at me. Which is totally just soo pathetic, but whatever, if they want to go and be childish, immature losers who just discovered the wonders of sex (which, I guess, it is true in Spencer's case) then go and be my guest.

However, when I get to the cafeteria the next day, Jon's sitting there at our table, stuffing his face with greasy cafeteria French fries, like the past week of him ignoring me never happened.

I sit down, hesitant. Then, he looks up and goes, "Hey Bren," all fine and dandy through a mouthful of food.

"Hi..."

"How's it going?" he asks, and squirts a few pounds of Ketchup out of the package until the fries are practically swimming.

Yeah, it's pretty freaking disgusting, but I'm about used to it by now.

"Uh, fine," I say, and slowly place my brown paper bag on the table.

"So..." he says casually, and runs his fingers through his beard. And Jon's totally like, the only one in my entire grade that can actually pull off a beard... and well, about the only one who can grow it, besides this awkwardly hairy guy in my math class. But that doesn't really count because he's just hairy all over since like, the third grade or something ridiculous like that. "I heard about you an Ryan," he continues, then bats his eyelashes at me a few times before putting his hand up in the air like, inches from my face. "You go, dude!"

I stare at his hand.

His face drops and he slowly lowers his hand, and goes back to his fries and lake of ketchup. "Fine, whatever."

"How do you know about me and Ryan?"

"Spence told me," he replies, like duh, I should of known this.

"How does Spencer know? I thought him and Ryan were in a fight," I say.

He makes this whole pfft noise with his lips, and spit goes flying all over our table and all over our food. Mmm, ketchup and spit. Tasty.

I tilt my head to the side, and mouth even falls open a little, because seriously? Has he discovered crack these past few days? "I thought we were in a fight..."

He does another pffft sound, and does this whole gay wrist-flail thing in the air. "Oh, Brenny. Do we ever get in fights?"

"Apparently..." I frown. "You walked out on me and ignored me for the past three days. Sorry, I don't know what ever lead me to think we were in a fight."

He smiles, grabs another fry, leans back in his chair, and goes, "Hm, me neither." He pops the fry I his mouth, then smirks. "So, tell me about you and RyRy."

---

I'm at Ethan's.

We're kind of making out on his bed, and his hand is kind of up my shirt. And maybe we're even do a little dry-humping, but, just a little.

And, sure, I feel bad. Or, well, that's a total understatement because I totally feel like complete and utter horseshit. I'm still thinking of Ryan, even as my shirt comes off, as does his, until we're both completely naked.

I'm still thinking about Ryan as Ethan rips open the condom wrapper with his teeth. I'm still thinking of Ryan as he slides the condom on. I'm still thinking of Ryan as he grabs onto my hips and pushes into me.

Ryan's all I can think about as my back slides against the rough material of Ethan's hemp sheets, as his fingernails dig deep into my skin, and as he kisses me long and hard.

I'm even thinking of Ryan when Ethan presses his hot mouth against my ear and goes, "God, I love you, Bren."

I choke back tears as I come, and somehow, I still manage to say Ethan's name instead of Ryan's, and I thank God for that.

When Ethan pulls out, he ties the condom up and chucks it onto the floor. Then he wraps his thin (but still somewhat muscular) arms around me, presses a soft kiss to my cheek and rubs his nose into my hair.

I stare up a the ceiling, and wonder what the fuck I'm going to do.

---

Ethan loves me. I love Ethan.

He's been my first everything. My first boyfriend. My first real kiss. He's the first person I slept with. He's my first love.

He's always treated me like gold, ever since the day I met him. He even looks at me like I'm gold.

He's a man. He's experienced. He knows what he wants. He knows what I like, maybe even more than I do myself. He knows how to make my toes curl, and my head spin. Heck, he knows how to make me purr.

In a way, he's even made me me. Before him I was just a shy, in-the-closet, sixteen year-old, that could only watch the things me and Ethan do now, on my computer.

But then... then there's Ryan.

Ryan, a kid who doesn't know what the heck he wants. He doesn't know if he's gay, straight, bi, whatever and is too fucking scared to admit it anyway. He's Ryan, the one who kissed me, then cried. Ryan, a kid who will probably never get past what his Father tells him, or what his father expects him to be.

It's just... Ryan.

He's also the most gorgeous kid I have ever laid my eyes on. The one that can light up a whole room just by his smile. The one who has a courage to follow something, to believe in something more than anything else in the world. He's so innocent, and cute, and just... so innocent but yet he manages to be the most amazing kisser in the history of this whole freaking planet.

Ethan. Ryan. Ethan. Ryan. Ethan. Ryan. EthanRyanEthanRyanEthanRyan.

And, fuck. I'm so screwed.