Bitter [Part 3]

Over the next week, I was going crazy. Wherever I went, I saw Ryan—and wanted him more than I ever had. A part of me was saying, “Leave him be; you respect him enough not to push him.”1

While the other part was saying, “Jump him! Now!”2

The next day we avoided each other, while the following day I went to Oceanside and spent the night there. I came back Saturday and saw Ryan back at the normal house.3

He flirted with me. Enough to tempt me but doubt myself, still. So when I stood up and said I was going to pass out, he followed me in.4

What else was I supposed to do?5

He leaned me against the wall and when we kissed, it was sweet and languid. I woke up the next day in a better mood, but doubting my own self-worth—after all, we both knew it was going no where.6

Andrew came to my house with Ryan Sunday. We drank, smoked, and swam all day in the middle of summer—beautiful. Ryan was on a beer run with Andrew when we ended up next to each other.7

“I should hate you for everything you’ve done to me,” I said out of the blue.8

“What? Why?” And we talked.9

Andrew is either as manipulative as I can be or more than I’ll ever dream—I haven’t figured that out. But I grew to see everything as a stupid time of drama and that no one had the facts straight, so why would it matter?10

And when Andrew jacked my seat, I whined until he pulled me into his lap.11

His hand brushed my chest, right over the rings. I knew he did it on purpose; I could still feel his hand resting on my hip possessively, the heat radiating between us. 12

I smacked his chest and stood up. Later I said to him, “Why are you flirting with me? You shouldn’t be doing that.”13

“I don’t get it,” he responded. “Do you want to hook up or not?”14

I felt played like an instrument. How was I so weak, I wondered, after everything I had been through?15

But why would I be exclusive with a guy I really did not want a relationship with?16

“I just wouldn’t want Ryan to know, alright? That’s my problem with it, and I can’t trust you not to tell him.”17

That night I only kissed Ryan—who still would stand next to me protectively, kiss me in front of everyone, as if staking a claim. 18

Sadly, whenever Ryan and I were around each other after then, we were awkward. This was a good thing, in one perspective--I was comfortable with being uncomfortable around the opposite sex.19

The bad thing, though, was that he became Ryan the Dick...ultimately.20

Maybe it was the fact that he knew I could still have a casual night with him when we weren't on the best of terms. Maybe he was just playing me all along after the night he realized what was between us. 21

The biggest tip-off was the night we went to Hollywood. Our friend's mom, Suzi, was given twenty tickets to a concert, along with two limos. She invited everyone who was close to her in her daughter's group, which was the main part of our crew. We went through at least five twenty-four cases of beer and a good amount of vodka in that limo. 22

When we got to the show, there were a bunch of punks and scene kids running around and moshing. I watched Ryan join and decided I didn't want Andrew that night; I wanted Ryan. Good old Ryan--not the one who called me a dumb broad on the drive.23

So I ignored Andrew on my lustful level and eyeballed Ryan until he was near me. In the middle of the crowd I leaned up and kissed him, but the response was not what I expected. He barely let me close and kept it to a peck.24

On the ride home Andrew and Ryan decided to be loud, drunk, and gay together. I sat in my corner half-asleep the whole three hours (since we had a blow-out on the freeway, go figure) while they made the limo bounce and Suzi laugh hysterically. I didn't even want to look at them it disgusted me--and not in the homophobic way.25

See, I think you know by now that neither of these two boys likes men--I am an example, after all.26

When we got back to Suzi's I smoked a bowl and felt better. Enough to flirt and laugh, at least.27

Until, of course, Ryan called me a dumb broad again. Then I was just bitter.28

The sky was the bright blue before sunrise when I called it a night. I asked Ryan to follow me and we went into the laundry room.29

"Why don't we just go into the room and fuck?" he said.30

What? My mind went numb because this wasn't something he had ever said to me before.31

He must have seen my shocked expression and continued, "Why do we got to always pussyfoot around it?"32

Where was the Ryan I knew? The one who, when I said no, logically thought about it and backed off for another two weeks. 33

I was drunk, though, so I was down, but I still wanted to flirt.34

"You're so sketch," he told me next.35

I hated that word. Between Ryan and Andrew, the word "sketch" was said enough to compete with the word "beer". 36

I shook my head.37

"Why you gotta be like that?"38

All I wanted to do was lay down and cuddle with this boy. He kept pushing, though.39

"You don't know why?" I finally pushed back.40

"No, I don't."41

"It's because I'm about two weeks late."42

Ok, I didn't mean to make it sound like I was, in truth, pregnant. I knew I wasn't--at least, I hoped I wasn't. The three tests I'd taken since that first one all told me negative.43

So I told him that, too.44

"What the fuck," was all he kept repeating.45

"But I'm not," I finished. "I just stress about it and it's made me like this."46

"It's bullshit," Ryan said.47

He walked away again a second later. I took that moment to recoup in the laundry room, my mind a chaotic mess of anger, want, and alcohol.48

He was on the couch when I walked through to the back room. I ducked my head; I didn't want to look at him because I was confused. Honestly, if he had tried at that moment to show at least an ounce of compassion, I would have given him what he wanted that night.49

I fell asleep and didn't wake til I had to go to work. Andrew and Ryan were still up, outside, smoking hooka and drinking beer. I wanted to join them, but work beckoned. And the way Andrew and Ryan talked to each other intimidated me.50

They were becoming best friends too fast.51