Bully // Ryllon

Chapter one

I'm gonna start this off with a quick note:

this story is half 1980-1990, half 2017. There's technology like laptops, but the dressing style and general acting style is definitely later '80s to mid-'90s. I guess it's set in like 1980's ish? The more I write it, the more it relates to the 80/90's.

"Mr. Ross, late. Again," Mr. Nelson says as Ryan makes his way inside the classroom. He covers his jaw with his hand in pain as he sits down, and Spencer immediately looks at him worriedly as he puts his notebook and textbook on the table.

"Yeah?" Spencer asks, and Ryan sighs.

"Yeah," he says. He pulls out a notebook, quickly taking notes. Mr. Nelson continues teaching, as usual, Ryan and Spencer repeatedly looking at the time. Kids pass notes and Spencer and Ryan exchange terrified looks. The end of the day is their least favorite part of any weekday. That's when they have to run for their lives, grab their books and just run.

The boys wait nervously for the class to be over. The second that it hits 15 seconds before 3:00, they hold their books closely and get ready.

"Remember, if one of us gets caught, the other runs as fast as he can. No hesitation, just running," Ryan says nervously. Spencer nods.

"Struggle as much as you can but don't fight back," Spencer notes. 5 seconds. They look at each other.

"Good luck," they say in unison. The bell rings and they both bolt out of the room. They run out of school as fast as they can. Down the block is how far they get to realize that they're being chased again.

They take a sharp left down the old neighborhood, occasionally looking over their shoulder to see if they're getting closer, only to realize that they are. Right, straight, turn left, right, left, straight, keep going.

They run down the old path between the fence and the trees of someone's yard, then run through the small hole of the fence. The other boys, all wearing leather jackets, jump the fence and chase after them. Ryan yells and struggles as someone grabs him by his arms. Spencer continues running, knowing that he's getting closer to his house.

The other two keep running after Ryan's best friend as Ryan's pulled back by the tall, laughing blue-eyed boy.

"Little too slow, Ross, it's almost like you were begging for me to catch you," Dallon says, then throws Ryan to the ground. He kicks him repeatedly, then gets down and starts punching him and hitting him and slapping him. "Pretty boy looking prettier with blood, huh?"

Ryan tries to push him off. Struggle, but don't fight back. Dallon punches him once more, enough to make him really dizzy, then stands up.

"Enjoy that, you fag," Dallon says, laughing as he kicks him again. Ryan groans, now facing the ground, and Dallon walks off once the other boys come back. Ryan pushes himself up, but Mikey kicks him.

"Eat dirt, barf bag," Mikey says, laughing.

"See you next week," the other boy, Brendon, adds, all laughing and walking off. Ryan pushes himself up and spits out blood to the side before grabbing his books. His nose and mouth are bleeding and he's probably gonna get another few bruises. He hurriedly makes his way back to Spencer's before they for some reason come back and beat him some more.

Spencer patiently and nervously waits on his porch step, then stands when he sees his best friend. He grabs their stuff and puts it inside, then wraps one arm around Ryan's waist as Ryan wraps his arm around Spencer's shoulders. Spencer holds his hand and helps him inside. They walk to Spencer's room, him grabbing a towel from a cupboard on the way. Ryan groans tiredly and sits on Spencer's bed.

Spencer leaves the room to wet down the towel, then comes back and hands it to Ryan, as well as a cup of water.

"Thanks," Ryan says, drinking the water first. He puts it on the nightstand, then brings the towel to his nose.

"One of these days, we're gonna stand up for ourselves. Show them who's boss," Spencer says, turning on the radio. They lay back on his bed.

"Tomorrow?"

"Hell no," Spencer says, and they both laugh.

"One more year of this hell hole, then we don't have to worry about them anymore. We'll run away to some big city. Not stay in stupid Wisconsin," Ryan says.

"That'll be the day," Spencer says sarcastically, sighing and shaking his head. "I wish it was that easy."

"Isn't it?"

"Gotta have money, somewhere to live, somewhere to run to." Spencer turns his head to look at Ryan, and Ryan does the same. "Somewhere to go."

Ryan sighs and sits up.

"I hope I never see Dallon Weekes again, and if I do, I'd probably fall in love with him," Ryan mutters, because he knows exactly how he hates himself for admitting how gorgeous he is.

"Hm?" Spencer asks, sitting up, but Ryan shakes his head.

"I better get home before Dallon does," Ryan says, looking outside carefully to make sure that there's no sign of the blue-eyed boy.

"Good luck," Spencer says. Ryan pulls away from the towel once knowing that it's not bleeding anymore.

"Thanks," Ryan mumbles, walking out of the room and downstairs. He grabs his books and cautiously walks outside. He rushes to his house, opening the door and almost slamming it shut. He takes his shoes off and walks upstairs with his stuff.

"Oh, sweetie, you're home. We're having guests over for dinner tonight, so wash up and clean up your room," his mom says, smiling at him. His eyebrows move together as he stares at her in confusion.

"Who?"

"The neighbors."

Ryan raises an eyebrow. Across the street, to the left, to the right, everyone around them is their neighbor basically.

"Oh, right, sorry. The Weekes family."