Callum's Colours

Ryan's Rules

When, after two days, Ryan still hasn't contacted me, I begin to worry.

I realize I should've asked for his phone number or email, but it never occurred to ask. For some reason, I feel too awkward to visit him. It's always been him chasing after me, never the other way round.

Besides, maybe he'll feel awkward if I, the gay loser from the year below, visits while his friends are with him.

But he called me his friend.

I know I'm just making up excuses but I can't seem to stop being a coward. After all, it is just the boy who chased me down the corridor, screaming my sexuality. I don't understand my fear.

On the third day of not seeing him, I decided to swallow my worries and check he's alright. As I try to figure out the part of town I dropped him off in, I begin to reverse the car. Then I break, noticing a fuschia pink Toyota parked on the drive, blocking my car from the road.

I sigh, assuming fate really doesn't want me to visit Ryan.

After waiting a few minutes for the owner to return, I write a note on a scrunched piece of paper, with my number, asking for them to ring me when they've moved the car.

I don't understand why someone would park in my driveway anyway.

After a few more minutes, I finally give up waiting and head back to the house.

A man, with a black hoodie, pulled up over his head, and baggy jeans stands to face my front door. As I approach him, I realize he seems to be fiddling with it. My first assumptions are that he must be a mugger. I don't think about my family, or the possessions inside, I just know that I need to protect my computer. If he gets hold of it he'll automatically have access to my saved login for Poems for Poets. If he touched any of my work I would be devastated.

Acting on instinct, heart pulsing, I charge along the gravel path, shouting, "Stop, what the hell are you doing!"

It's at this moment I most regret never exercising.

The man turns around. It's Ryan.

"Calm it gay boy!" he smirks, "It's just me."

"Shut the fuck up Ryan! Don't say that around here, my family don't know about me." I hiss, beginning to calm down, the shock wearing off.

Now I'm seeing him calmly, he's so clearing Ryan Gold.

Fierce ginger hair, a confident stance. Smugness practically rolling off of him.

He grins.

If I wasn't still in shock from the raping, I'd probably be developing a serious crush.

"Sorry fag. Do you like my car? It's a great colour isn't it?" He smiles.

"Yeah, super masculine." I smile back, unable to be upset around his arrogance. He must own the Toyota. "Why the hell were you trying to rob me?"

Ryan stares at me, shocked.

"You were fiddling with the door, it seemed like you were trying to mess with the lock." I continue.

He suddenly laughs.

"What the hell Callum, I was shouting through the letterbox, trying to get you to speak to me," he quickly turns serious.

I spin around, pretending to be mad.

"Oh, really Ryan! Because shouting through a letterbox is a really common thing to see," I retort.

He looks stressed.

"I thought you were ignoring me. I know we didn't agree to meet or anything but I thought you might at least come and say hi! That's the way a friendship works right? I came and visited you so now you come and see me!" He pauses, judging my reaction, "I thought I had pissed you off so I came round to beg you to speak to me."