The Diary of Ryan Ross

chapter eight

November 13, 2004

Tonight was almost a catastrophe.

As I said yesterday, Brendon has asked me to the school dance. I thought it sounded fun.

I borrowed a suit from my father. I'm sure he wouldn't mind, I am getting involved and that's what he's always wanted so I'm assuming that it'll take more than a stolen suit to piss him off.

Get dressed, avoiding the mirror until I'm completely dressed. I hate looking at my skeleton of a reflection. Anyways, I pull on my dress shirt and button it, closing my eyes and hesitantly stepping into the line of the mirror. I open them, disappointed by the reflection staring back at me.

The white shirt stuck to my skin, and the black pants made made my legs resemble twigs. I've been trying very hard to gain weight and look less thin. I hate myself, I hate my skin. I hate the way my reflection looks, and know I'm figuring out that that's how people see me. This is how Brendon sees me.

But, when I think about Brendon, I grin and tie the goddamn tie.

Brendon gets he shortly after I finish getting dressed. My father lets him in and I rush downstairs, not wanting my dad to spill anymore of my secrets to my lover. I walk quickly down the stairs, avoiding both of their gazes.

"Whoa," I hear Brendon say. I look up, locking eyes with him. "You look stunning." He sounds awestruck, but I don't know why. But, I blush anyways and dawdle towards him.

Brendon wraps his arm around my waist, still gazing up at me like I'm something else. I look over to my dad as he rambles on about whatever he was talking about before I entered the room.

"And what time will you bringing Ryan home?" My dad asks, folding his arms across his chest.

"Mr. Ross, would you mind if we stayed the night at Spencer's house tonight? I mean, he would be devastated if we at least didn't show up," Brendon asked. God, I love him but he is a total kiss ass.

"I'm not so sure about that.." He trails off, glancing at me as if I'll provide him an answer. "I mean, Ryan needs to be here in the morning to take his pills..." I bite my lip and ball my fists around the fabric of the suit. My dad looks up at the ceiling, debating or thinking or something. "Well, I suppose so."

"I promise to have him home by noon, sir," Brendon promises. My father nods. He shakes my fathers hand and escorts me through the door.

"So, are you excited?" Brendon asks, pulling me towards the car. I nod, reaching for his hand.

He takes it, running circles on my thumb.

*
We don't actually go to the dance. He drives me straight to Spencer's house. I'm glad, actually. I wasn't looking forward to a fucking dance to be completely honest.

Brendon squeezes my hand and pulls me towards the table, handing me a drink. I hate beer, mostly because my mom loved it, but I drink it anyways in an attempt to seem cool.

I look around the party. There aren't a lot of people I know, fuck there aren't a lot of people in general. I notice Jon immediately, chatting up some girl in the corner.

I see Spencer at the foot of the stairs, gazing at him. He notices me, stands up and walks towards the door, stepping outside. I make my way over to him.

"Hey, Spencer," I mutter, taking a seat next to him on the concrete steps. He waves halfheartedly. "How's it going?"

"Oh, just great. I mean, look at the sexy thing over there, talking to a girl. And look at this piece of trash right here, talking to a boy who has a boyfriend," He smiles. And i thought I sucked at fake smiles. "I'm doing great. Just great."