Don't Touch Me [ryden]

(29) Numb

This particular Friday in University seemed much unlikely from the regular Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays in University; which was not commonly occurring since everyday was not likely to be different in that place if you asked Ryan. However that whole week still felt glum to him. He had been acting morose and ill tempered all day, he couldn't bring to his mind an awareness of his actions that he followed. It was like running on autopilot.

That afternoon, without much attention or observation on how he ended up at the back booth in an old measly diner, Ryan was with Jon sitting beside him. Jon already has indulged himself in his meal convincing himself 'It's just the way my mom made it'. Ryan wasn't sure if Jon was away from his mother and never went home for that long that he might've forgotten what home-cooked meals taste like, either that or his mom was a terrible cook. Ryan sets his mushrooms aside, grimacing at the slimy porous organism that was now poorly wilted down. Ryan picks up his top sesame bun scraping the mayo of the bread along with the pickles. Ryan's nitpicking caught Jon's attention and the boy notices Ryan's dejected mood while he dissected his food.

"Hey you okay man?"
"Hm? Yeah I'm fine." Ryan says and Jon demurs.
"I've been friends with you for so long I think I know when something's up with you bud." Ryan sighs at Jon's perceptiveness. It was unusual considering Jon was pretty much oblivious about everything else.
"Let's just say I was performing a mentally straining observation of this demographic. From this very back booth, there might be a solid chance that only eight and a half percent of this sample came here because they actually like the food, that sample including you." Ryan gives Jon a smug grin. He wasn't lying about this too, hoping it would make Jon stray from the topic he dreaded to talk about.

"It's not that bad. You're just being picky, as always." Jon's features forming to a kind, pleasing one while he sneakily stabbed his fork on Ryan's french fries and stuffed them in his mouth. Ryan then pushed his unfinished plate of food towards Jon that looked like it was poorly cut up for an anatomical study.

"Well it's really not my fault if they didn't ask me if I liked mayo on my sandwich." Ryan says in wry amusement. He liked having the last say in everything, because it sort of represents a tacit authority that he is in fact, always right. Besides, isn't that what establishments practice? The whole customers are always right thing? He shrugged off the thought when Jon spoke. "Seriously Ryan, you're not okay."

He chooses to ignore Jon and rests his head on his palms that were laid flat on the table, which by the way Ryan handily sanitized himself. "Is this still about Brendon?" Jon guessed right again and Ryan mentally curses. He's been trying to avoid this all week, getting the thought of Brendon crying the last time he saw him out of his mind and wiped out of his memory forever. It wasn't going exactly well but Jon wasn't exactly helping his case.

Ryan lets out a long sigh before looking into Jon's eyes. It was impossible for him to lie to his friend either. Jon can call bluffs even in his sleep, so at this point he really had no choice.
"No...I don't know." He spoke quietly.
"You don't know?"
"Yes, I don't know! Maybe it's just me, I'm confused, I'm not exactly sure what the problem is; and under normal conditions when that happens, it turns out the problem is me." Ryan blurts out, troubled. This was why it was so much easier for him to be away from people, and why ignoring and disregards were equally important to him. If he couldn't find some way to contrive some sort of dislike towards a person, he'd be hostile and antagonistic. Why was Brendon any different this time?

Jon drops his fry on his plate and leans back to the worn out leather cushion. "Hey you know it wouldn't be...that big of a deal right? If you are?" His friend carefully suggests, hoping Ryan might find it reassuring, but instead Ryan just lifts his head from the table with his eyebrows knitted together and his forehead crinkling.
"Jon, I'm not g--"
"What? Gay? I didn't say anything about being gay, but I guess that applies too." Jon adds looking at Ryan's troubling emanation. He kicks Ryan's shoe under the table to catch the boy's attention again. "Hey, Brendon isn't exactly my friend, you know that of all people. I know most people think I'm homophobic for that but no..."