apparitions and other everyday abnormalities

part two

"So, when's your mom getting home?" Brendon asks. It's a Friday night during the summer, and I'm at home with no plans. Oh yeah, that's probably because I no longer have any friends. Awesome. At least I'm not alone.
"Next week. It was a weeklong trip," I reply sulkily.
"You know, it's Friday night; you should be out having fun. You aren't obligated to stay here with me," Brendon says. I look up at him to see him with a sort of sad look on his perfect features.
"But I like hanging out with you...even though I've only known you for three days. Plus, I don't know anyone here. Not like it matters; I've never exactly been a social butterfly," I say, rolling my eyes.
"Really? Huh," he replies. He looks surprised.
"What?"
"It's just, you look like the type who's like, the most popular kid at school and has eight billion friends."
I scoff at that. "Yeah, right. I mean, I'm never unpopular, but I'm just quiet, so I don't talk to many people. I had a few good friends in New York."
"Hm. Do you want to have a movie night?" he asks randomly. I give him a funny look. He is such an odd boy, really. But there's something about him that I just like. I want to be friends with him, I really do, but then when I think about it, I just get sad. He's dead. We could never be friends the way I wish we could be. He's really nice, and funny, and it's just not fair.
"You are really, really weird, Brendon."
He scrunches his eyebrows. "Well I'd rather be weird than plain and boring. Keeps things interesting," he smiles.
"Well, I definitely can't say that you aren't interesting," I smile back.
"So, movies then?"
"Only if we can watch Moulin Rouge."
"What? You've got to be kidding me. If you didn't already tell me you were gay, I definitely would've figured it out by now," he says playfully.
"Well, that's just plain rude," I pout.
"I'm only kidding, don't ruin my fun."
"You're mean," I pout some more.
"It's not my fault you're flamboyant," he says matter-of-factly with a shrug.
"Flamboyant?" I gape. "Is it possible at all for you to go five minutes without insulting me? And-why are you laughing? This is a serious matter!"
"Yes, of course," he giggles, "very serious, indeed."
"Oh, fuck you," I glare at him. He just smirks and rolls his eyes.
"It's okay to be a little obvious about your sexuality, Ryan," Brendon says, smiling. "It's kind of cute, actually." I immediately feel blood rush to my face at his words. Did Brendon just say that I was cute?
"Um...yeah, so let me just go find that movie..." My words tumble out awkwardly. Brendon smirks and nods. Was he flirting? Or am I just imagining things? This is all entirely too fucked up.

***

"Ryan!" I hear my mom call. I guess she's back. I hop off my futon and jog downstairs to the kitchen to be greeted with my mother's worn-out looking face.
"Long trip?" I ask.
"You could say that. Even though it was only a week, it seemed like absolutely forever."
I give her a hum of acknowledgment and go to the fridge to get a soda.
"Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" she questions. Oh yeah, I met the ghost who's been living in our house for five years.
"No."
"Did you even leave the house?" she sighs, long and drawn-out. "I told you that you could go do whatever you wanted. You have a car, Ryan, and you never even use it. What kind of teenager are you?"
"I just...I like being home." There's no point in trying to explain it to her; she never gets it. She never understands. "Plus, I kind of don't have any friends here, you know that."
"Well, what about Spencer? You two used to be friends when you were little, and his street is five minutes away."
"Mom, I haven't talked to that kid since we moved away."
"Well, so? Go to his house, let him know you're back," she argues. The thing I hate the most about my mom is the pushiness.
"Mom, I can't just waltz up to his house and strike up a conversation. I'm sure he doesn't even remember me. I barely remember him." It's true. I don't really remember much of my time being friends with Spencer, even though we were friends for five years. We weren't really that close, but we lived next to each other, and we played together a lot. Okay, so maybe we were sort of inseparable, whatever.
"Please, Ryan? Just try. You act like doing this one thing is going to kill you. You can't spend your whole summer alone. Plus, you'll be going to school with Spencer this fall anyway, so you might as well get reacquainted with him now." Damn, she does make a good argument. That's the downside of having a lawyer as a mother, I suppose. Although, I can't help thinking...but I'm not alone.
I sigh dramatically. "Fine, Mom, God. I'll go see him tomorrow, okay?" She rolls her eyes at my exasperation and nods, satisfied.
As I'm trying to tear open a bag of chips, someone grabs my shoulder behind me, causing me to shriek and rip the bag of chips open all over the floor. I spin around, seeing Brendon wide-eyed and grinning apologetically.
"Eh...sorry?" he says, inclining the last syllable a tiny bit.
"Ryan, are you okay?" my mom asks warily. I laugh a little nervously.
"Um, yeah, sorry, I just couldn't get them open...and, yeah. Sorry." Brendon laughs. I glare, causing me to receive another strange look from my mother. I quickly clean up the mess. "I'm going upstairs now," I mutter.
Once I'm upstairs, I close my door and turn around, knowing that Brendon will be there. And he is; sitting on my bed staring up at me innocently. "You are such a jerk," I say in a bitchy tone. "My mother probably thinks I've gone crazy."
"Not my problem," he shrugs, grinning cheekily. My eyes narrow, and I stare him down until he relents. "Fine, I'm sorry."
"Good."
"So like, what do you do for fun?" Brendon asks.
"Um...stuff," I reply vaguely. Brendon gives me a look, and I sigh dramatically.
"I told you, I'm boring, okay? I'm uninteresting and useless, and I sit here and play guitar and do pointless shit all day."
Brendon just kind of looks at me strangely, cocking his head to the side. He does that a lot, I've noticed. "Do you really think of yourself that way?" His light, playful tone is gone, now transformed into a more serious one.
"Well...yeah," I say in a small voice.
He sadly shakes his head. "You shouldn't." I raise my head to meet his eyes, and he's looking intently at me. "I know I've only known you for a week, but you're definitely not boring. You're funny, and really fucking smart, and you always have good stories to tell. You may act like a bitch, but really, underneath that façade you're the nicest person I've ever met. You're awesome on guitar, and nothing you ever do is pointless. I like you," he finishes with a nod. And just like that, the heaviness in my chest that always seems to reside there is lifted, replaced with something lighter, more pure; accompanied by another new feeling, much like a tingling sensation. I know Brendon is only being friendly, but I also know that it's genuine, and his eyes are so open and honest that I have no choice but to believe him.
"That's...that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," I mumble, meeting his eyes again.
"That's crazy. You should hear things like that every day, honestly." A smile makes its way across his face. A real smile.
I really don't have any control over the answering smile that etches across my own face.