On your knees // Bandom

54. Girl that you love

The music room squad weren't quite dumb enough to host another party after the disasters that Dallon had caused at the last two. They didn't know it was Dallon, of course, but whether they thought it was bad luck or the problems of getting music nerds drunk, they're wasn't going to be one at valentines.

Except that Lindsey Balleto had no such qualms. She was hosting one, and they're was going to be more than shitty cider and spin the bottle. Ray and Jimmy were going. Gabe and Pete were going. Brendon and Ryan were going. Dallon was going to crash.

Awsten wasn't going to be there, but he was going to be at Jack and Alex's, despite however that might fail what with the lack of talking. Dallon was starting to think that Brendon was a better victim, anyway. His notebooks full of plans worked better with him, and he was, in his own way, a Porphyria himself.

It was two weeks until the end of term, two-and-a-half until valentines day. Love was just seeping into the frosty air and the snow had been replaced by slush that filled shoes.

Dallon wasn't entirely sure how he'd get into the party, but he figured that through a combination of stalking, confidence, and the magic of 'true love' he'd be fine. He pictured Brendon on the roses, red and white. Body turning cold. Maybe even a little blood, not that Dallon wanted evidence, he just wanted to feel something. Pain, perhaps? It might hurt to never see Brendon again. Ryans funeral had been held in private, so after that sheet had been pulled, he was gone for good. He missed him, sort of, but he still missed Taylor more.

The world seemed more cold that winter, the sky more grey. Laughter was temporary and harsh, fire's burning blue without providing heat.

There were new things, too, that February: Walking to school as flakes fell down, crowning him, designating him an angel with a halo; Birds flying around and around, leading their simple lives in a way that almost made him a jealous emerald. He would like to just fly. Fly. Fly and never return. Around and around.
They didn't worry about morality, or love, or possessing a person. He did.

~

Ray was meant to be doing homework. But a lot of people are often meant to being doing a lot of homework and many do not. He was playing music, skipping through his playlist to find songs that suited his mood. He was like a magpie, easily distracted by his room or his phone...

Said phone rang and he grinned with delight, dropping his pen dramatically onto the mostly blank page. It rolled off the table.

"Jimmy!" He answered.
"Hey, Ray, ummm..." Jimmy wasn't as chipper.
"Whats wrong, babe?" He liked calling him that.
"I just need to be out of the house tonight. Can I come over?"
"Yeah, of course, what happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it," He swallowed. "I just don't want to be at home."
"Do you want me to come get you?"
"...yeah."
"Kay, I'll be there as soon as."
"Thanks. You don't have to-"
"Yeah I do. Do you need me to stay on the phone?"
"No, its okay. I'll wait just round the corner from my house. Thanks. I love you." Jimmy hung up.

Ray picked up his phone and jacket and made it to his bedroom door before processing what he finished with. He stopped dead and called Jimmy back.

"Do you always end calls like that?"
Jimmy had realised too. "I meant it."
"What?"
"I meant it. I didn't mean to say it but I keep thinking it — and now im taking it and running with it because I wanna get laid."
"You do?"
"Obviously."
Ray laughed. "I mean, do you actually love me? Obviously you wanna get laid. Took that for granted."
"Yeah, I... I called you to pick me up for no reason and you're gonna. You're, like, who I want to turn to for everything. Even with all your stupid rules about not going public and dicks out at I love you, I still really like you. I watched some rom-com with Lindsey the other day because she was kind of drunk and wanted too, and I couldn't stop thinking about you."
"I... I'm on my way to come pick you up." Ray said. He'd walked through the house while Jimmy was talking. Avoiding answering.
"I'm sorry. I know you're not sure."
"Not yet."
"Whenever. Just, I mean it."

Ray hung up and got into his car. He sat there for a moment, sending his mom a text saying he'd be back in 20 mins, adjusting the music. Avoiding his thoughts again. He wasn't even sure Jimmy did mean it. It'd been just over a month, which was not time enough to say that sort of thing, and yet... He knew Jimmy thought he meant it, but that didn't mean he actually did.

He had the journey to Jimmys memorised, and arrived to see him sitting on his neighbours wall, trainers kicking at the bricks, swinging in the air. He wanted to tell him he loved him too, but he didn't know if he did, and that wasn't fair. He'd never been fair.

Jimmy jumped down and climbed into the passenger side, throwing his bag into the back. He kissed him over the centre console, like he always did. It was their thing, now. They had 'things': inside jokes and idiosyncrasies.

"You ok?" He asked.
"Fought with my dad."
He set off, "You wanna talk about it?"
"I don't want to hurt you."
"Me?"
"My dad knows. Sorry. I didn't mean to tell him, or anything, he just found out."
Ray felt a bit numb. "Its ok."
"Are you sure?"
"Is he alright with it?"
"God, no. But he's never been. You're not the problem."
"I'm not a terrible influence?"
"You're the best thing in my life, I'm pretty sure."
"That doesn't say much about your life."
"I know. No offence."
"You couldn't offend me if you tried."
Jimmy giggled. "Heteroflexible."
"God-damnit."

~

Layla followed Dallon up to his room after dinner and sat down on his bed with her feet tucked under her, the way he sit.

"Dall..." She began, "You don't have to say, but, what happened to Ryan? I know you broke up ages ago, well, I assume, because he just stopped coming round."
"Yeah, we broke up before christmas."
"Oh. Okay. Why?"
"Just didn't work out." He desperately didn't want her to be anything like him. "And then he died."
Her eyes turned to dark saucers, "He died!?"
"There was an accident at that party I went to on New Years Eve."
"And he's... dead? Really?"
'Yeah, please don't ever drink, Layla.' It wasn't the drinks fault, obviously, but he felt like imparting brotherly advice nonetheless.
"Are you ok?" She asked.
"I'm okay."

She lay back on his bed. "Do you believe in God, Dall?"
"Do you?"
"Yeah, I mean, mum and dad say he exists, and always have. They fully believe in him. I'm just kind of worried he's like Santa, and not actually real. There's no proof, is there?"
"Do you want to believe in him?"
"I wish I did, unconditionally."
"Then that's enough. Try and keep your faith."
"But do you?"
"I don't think so. But I would like to."
"Yeah. It's comforting."
"Are you asking because you want to know if I think Ryan's in heaven?"
"Do you think he is?"
"I think if there is such a thing, he's there. And if there's not, then there's no harm in believing he's there."
"I'm really sorry he's gone. He made you laugh."
"So do you. So does Elle."
"Yeah, but it's different, isn't it?"
He nodded, "Sort of."

She considered for a moment. "Why do people say that if you're gay then you're going to hell? It doesn't say anything like that in the bible — me and Elle checked."
"You and Elle?"
"Well, mainly me, but she was there."
"People like to use religion to excuse their actions. They always have."
"Why?"
"To feel better? To try and act superior? To shame others? I don't know. Y'know, they used to not even let people read the bible, so they could say what they wanted and get away with it."
"So if you're gay you're not automatically going to hell?"
"No. And if you're straight you're not automatically going to heaven."
She nodded, "Okay."