Tutorial | Brendon Urie

Chapter Twenty

All night, all I can think about is Brendon. How he tried to comfort me. And he tried so. I wonder if he meant what he said. If he truly thinks we will be okay. I can't imagine the repercussions that may arise and to think that I could be the cause of it. I don't want to ruin him that way. I'm sure I'm a broken record by now. I'm sorry. I don't know what to do, still.

I need consoling. I take my phone from it's charger and open Messages.

Grace: brendon

I close the app and check my other social medias briefly. Within seconds, my phone buzzes.

Brendon: grace

Grace: hey, um im still concerned, you know, about everything

I stay in the app, expecting an immediate response, but I don't receive one. My phone is quiet for at least a minute. I knew I would get on his nerves. I've fucked it. He's sick of me already. Whatever.

I throw my phone in my bedside table drawer and roll over in bed to face the wall. I fight myself to not cry. I begin to drift off into my own destructive thoughts.

A loud ring sounds from inside my bedside table drawer. It's my phone. I almost fall off the bed reaching for it. I must have fallen asleep, because it's been an hour since I texted him.

Brendon: i want you to know that you make me feel happier than teaching ever could. we have only known each other a little while, but you listen to me like nobody ever has before. i've never felt so true to myself than when i am around you. if being with you puts my career in jeopardy than i dont want it anyway. ive felt this way since the storm. i just didnt have the balls to say it until now. dont be scared, please.

I let myself cry now. He's more than anything I could have wished for, ever. I'm more confident in us than ever. This might actually become something. This might go somewhere other than the sheets of a stranger's bed.

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The past days have been bliss. Utter bliss. I don't feel the panic and the stress that I had. Brendon has made me feel more loved and appreciated than I ever thought was possible. I never knew that one person could dictate another's emotions so strictly, so expertly.

We still exchange notes in class sometimes. Well, no. That's an understatement. We write each other constantly. I'm always 'asking him for help' or 'needing feedback'. The ugly scribbles in red and black pen cover countless pieces of paper. Although we were writing them in class, for any keen eye to spy, they should never see the light of day.

Ms. Phillips looks at us sometimes. The students around me look at us sometimes. I would maybe care if I wasn't so infatuated. I might have maybe possibly cared if I wasn't having so much fun. I didn't care if they suspected anything. Let them suspect. I hope they suspect. Imagine. A girl like me, and a man like him. I hope that's what they think. I'm too lucky.

I've always towed the line, and finally, finally, I've stepped out. I've taken a leap. I've leapt into the freezing cold abyss. Brendon's with me though. He's making it okay for me. He's got enough warmth to keep us both from becoming victims of the darkness. If there are eyes on us, let them watch. Let them see what we do, let them see what we bring. Let them see our magic.

"I'm going to Dawn's after school today. I won't be too late."

"Grace, your English exam is three days away. You haven't forgotten have you?"

"No. That's why I'm going to hers after school."

"Okay, make sure you actually study. For your own sake."