broken | shyland ✓

chapter eight

r y l a n d

the last few days had been the best in a long time. sure, i'm grounded and the most popular guy in school hates my guts, but i digress. garrett, trish, joey, daniel, drew. they've all been amazing to me, so kind and welcoming, treating me like i've always been in their three-year-long friendship group.

and shane? well, there's so much to say about him. he's lovely, so lovely, and i think that, if i let myself, i could fall for him. i really like the way his eyes are a turquoise blue, yet sometimes - when he's talking about something he's passionate about - the irises tint with ocean coloured hues. pretty beautiful if you ask me.

today was my last day of being grounded, and since it was friday (four days since the milkshake incident), i walked out my front door with a spring in my step. leaning against the wall which divided our two houses, i brought my phone out and tapped in a quick message, feeling a strange feeling in my stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

ryland: i'm outside :)

i clenched my fists, a little anxious as i waited for him to reply. checking over my outfit, i admired my new navy-blue skinny jeans i had bought, the knees torn and the ankles turned up at the bottom. along with this, i wore an oversized black hoodie, a cap and my checkered, slip on vans shoes.

shane: give me two minutes! x

i smiled at the "x" at the end. in the last four nights, we'd spoken a lot. not just texting, but often at nights i would climb through his window, crawl next to him on his big, king sized bed and watch netflix till the early hours of the morning.

neither of my parents knew why i was so tired in the mornings, or why at dinner i would stare longingly at my phone, resenting the no texting at the table rule.

morgan had settled in well, too, mostly just hanging out with a boy called bobby, or so she said. i think maybe she likes him. she, like me, wore her heart on her sleeve. maybe that's why mine was so bruised, so damaged.

my reverie was broken my a shock of auburn hair flying out the door, shane in a complete fluster as he locked the hatch behind him.
'i'm so sorry, ry, i slept through my arm, and then my little brother couldn't find his left school shoe, and then i had to make him breakfast.' he burbled, furrowing his eyebrows with concern.

'it's okay.' i said gently, adjusting my black baseball hat on my head.

shane nodded with a smile. 'how are you, ryland?' he asked, falling into step with me as as we walked into school.

how was i? pretty shit, to be honest. kind of torn up. i didn't know who to trust. my parents were driving me insane, never leaving me alone. sometimes i get so nervous about things that i feel like my entire body is shrivelling up inside of me, screaming an internal war fest.

'good.' i lied with a wide smile. 'i'm good, thank you.' i tucked a strand of my brunette hair back inside of my cap, a few pieces of hair falling free. i decided to just leave it as it is, wondering if i should bring up what had been digging my brain for the last day.

i'd heard shane talking with garrett, laughing about something. i was in conversation with daniel and joey, but we were sat next to each other.  garrett had exclaimed something about shane being like his brother and that's why he teased him, to which the auburn boy retorted, 'i'm your brother? you don't kiss your brother!' the two collapsed in giggles.

i felt torn over it. part of me was thinking that holy fuck, shane liked boys and he was so kind to me, we lived next door to each other. if something happened between us, it would be perfect.

then that other part of me grabbed my heart, took it off my sleeve and placed it back behind my rib cage with a tut. he was with someone else, he was with garrett, he just hadn't mentioned it. maybe i wasn't meant to hear that conversation, maybe they were in a secret relationship.

i clenched my fists tightly as we walked down the road, the feeling fading. i looked up at shane, who was glancing up at the wisps of clouds that decorated the blue sky. i liked that he was so much taller than me; perhaps it sounds stupid, but it was almost reassuring and protecting that someone like him was stood next to me. his eyes stared down brightly at me, twinkling.

he bit his lip, contemplating his speech before opening his mouth. 'ryland? i don't want to push you, or anything. but, i saw you crying last weekend. from my window.'

i tried to act normal, but inside i was flooded with embarrassment that he'd witnessed my stupid tantrum. sure, i'd had a reason to be upset - my boyfriend of six months had just confirmed my cheating suspicions - but not to yell and throw my phone to the ground. i stuttered for an answer.

shane's face turned worried. 'i- i wasn't watching or anything, i just heard you shout...' he covered, scratching the back of his neck.

'no, don't worry, it's fine.' i replied, my voice feeling slightly rough against my throat, 'my boyfriend of six months sent nudes to me that were addressed to someone else, and he confirmed he'd been cheating for most of our relationship.'

my breath hitched and i clenched my fists, mentally cursing myself for getting upset over something so stupid.

'i'm sorry, i've upset you.' shane mumbles, looking down at the ground solemnly. great, i thought, i'd made someone feel bad now. my grip tightened against the palms of my hands as i grew more anxious.

the walk to school was quite long, twenty minutes, and for the next five we walked in silence until shane grabbed my wrist and uncurled my fingers. my heart started to beat super fast as i felt our hands brush against each other. he stopped and turned to face me.

one by one, shane unclenched my fingers until my palm was completely flat. 'stop. you're hurting yourself.' he said quietly, examining my hand. i don't know why i did it, sort of habit i suppose. not on purpose. whenever i get nervous or anxious, i clench my fist in the hopes of it going away. most of the time it works straight away. sometimes it doesn't, so i squeeze tighter and eventually it stops.

the crescent moon marks, indents from my nails, were red and raw on my skin. i'd started to do it in my sleep, i'd discovered, because in the morning the skin around the scars would be inflamed and sore.

'how are you, ryland?' he repeated, face forlorn. he was still staring at my hand, which laid between his two as we stood aimlessly in the middle of the empty sidewalk.

'i'm okay.' i whispered.

so he placed his hand in mine and curled my fingers until they were wrapped around his. this is when i realised it.

shane is the bandage, the sticky tape, the stitches, that held my broken parts together.

a/n: should i make a spotify playlist for this, who would listen?