Something More | Randy

chapter twenty-five | answer

Where the hell was he? If Rye hadn't gone home, then where had he been staying for the past few nights? I sat shivering on a park bench down the road from his house, searching my mind for possibilities. 

Sitting in the cold was a necessary choice. I knew his family well, I could easily have been making these decisions inside his warm home. Instead I chose to leave, not wanting to worry his family, but more than that not wanting to have to explain the situation to them, when Rye clearly had not even had the courage to do that himself. 

I couldn't come to a guess that made sense and the crisp night air urged me to action. So I gave up on speculation, resorting to my only real option. I called him. 

After only a couple of rings, he was on the other end of the line.

"Andy? Is that really you?" 

Despite everything, the sound of his voice was music to my ears. 

"It's me, Rye," I replied softly, "where are you? Why aren't you at home?"

"W-what?" Came a drawled response, "Where am I? I don't know- wait, did you come to my house?" It was obvious now from his slurred speech that he was drunk. Again. 

"Rye, where are you?" I repeated, my worry increasing. 

"Do you still love me? You came to get me so you must love me." He was clearly fucked up. Before I could demand once again that he give me his location, an unmistakably female voice piped up in the background.

"Rye, who are you talking to? Is it Andy?" 

Shit. I knew that voice. It was the worst voice I could have possibly heard in that moment. It shocked me enough that I hung up on the spot. 

He was with Kylie.

***

I was back at the train station, fuming. My eyes were red and my heart was heavy. How could he do this? How could he go back to her? The betrayal cut me deeper than I could have expected. We were supposed to be taking time apart to think about our relationship. Instead, he had been playing house with his ex. 

My phone was going haywire but I was ignoring it. I wanted to go home, wanted to never see him again. I would catch a train and in just a few hours be in my bed, being comforted by the other boys, telling them they were right to warn me all along. I was moments away from buying the ticket home, when a small voice in the back of my mind made me hesitate. 

Fight for him. 

He sure was making me fight hard, fight my own nature, my pride, my admittedly damaged ego. Yet fighting was what I came here to do. It might not have been the healthiest decision, but I wouldn't give in without answers at the very least. I bought a different ticket. 

I had been to Kylie's flat before, to crash after one of those atrocious club nights. I'd attempted to sleep in her  cramped living room while their moans echoed through the paper thin walls. As much as I didn't blame Kylie for anything, her place did not hold happy memories for me. It was not somewhere I'd wanted to return to. 

I must have been hopelessly whipped for this boy, because here I was after another hour long train ride, rapping on her front door. 

"Andy! You came here?" 

The shock was evident on Kylie's pretty face as she opened the door to me. I took in her appearance. She was in sweats and a low cut cami. So it was a night in they had planned. 

"Where is he?" I asked through gritted teeth. 

"Thank God you're here," she breathed, opening the door wider to let me in. That was a shock, I hadn't expected my presence to be a relief, but she had no sign of guilt or resentment on her face. "Come in. He's not in a great state."