Stressed

Ryan's POV

The next day, I woke up around 4:30 in the afternoon to my cell phone buzzing next to me. I grabbed it off the bedside table and struggled to focus on the words on the screen. I blinked away sleep and saw that it was a text message from Pete:

Hey (: what are you doing right now?

            I turned onto my back from lying on my stomach and yawned loudly. Pete. Oh s**t, Pete. I broke into a cold sweat, the events of last night replaying in my mind all at once. Rob… and even before that when Pete totally shut me down. I decided to pretend none of it happened. I replied:

You. In my mind.

            Maybe if I made him laugh, all would be good and fine and… My phone vibrated again:

Very funny. We should talk.

            F**k. Talking was last on my to-do list. He’d get me talking and then I’d get so nervous and worked up that I would accidentally end up telling him everything that happened last night, he’d cry, I’d cry, and then I’d probably just die. Maybe. I texted him back:

Kay, come over. Quick while I’m still naked ;)

            I rolled out of bed and quickly got ready, attempting to destroy the part of my brain that held my memory of the previous night. Failed attempt.

            Pete tapped on the back door lightly and I jumped down the stairs to let him in.

            “Hello,” I said.

            “Hi,” he said, stepping inside. I loosely grabbed his fingers and pecked his lips. He did that distant smile thing again. I tried not to vomit as thousands of possibilities raced through my head of how Pete could already know what I did last night. I followed him as he walked upstairs to my bedroom.

            “I just wanted to talk to you…” he started. He sat at the edge of my unmade bed, tracing one of the pictures of Spiderman on my sheets with his finger, and I sat in the chair in the corner facing him. “You made these road trip plans, but… you didn’t think about money or anything. I mean, I know the other guys are psyched about it, but what are we gonna do about food or hotel rooms and gas and s**t?”

            “Well, my parents are giving Matt and I each $200. Plus, Ron has that $150 saved up… I don’t really view this as a problem.” I explained. I felt like I was talking too fast and not breathing enough. Pete was silent, looking at the floor. The silence was burning my ears, and I needed a cigarette like my life depended on it.

            “Hey, what, um, what happened? Last night?” I asked, needing something else to talk about.

            “I’m really sorry about that. I was really stressed out and just tired and hung over… I’m still stressed out,” he said.

            “Well, you don’t have to worry about the money thing anymore,” I said.

            “I know. That’s good. But…” he rubbed the back of his neck. I leaned into him with my shoulder.

            “But?” I asked. I was instantly reminded of the conversation Rob and I had…

            “You and Pete, yeah?”

            “Yeah, but…”

            “But?”

            Pete sighed, “I dunno, I guess I’m just freaky,” I put my hand on his thigh.

            “Yeah, you are,” I chuckled, kissing his neck. His lips met mine in a sad kiss. Nothing felt the same. I pulled back and looked at him. His big brown eyes moved from my eyes to my lips… just like Rob last night… The guilt was like taking a bowling ball to the abdomen. Before I could give it a second thought, Pete pushed me down on the bed forcefully, kissing my collarbone.

            “Make me feel better,” he whispered in my ear. I had never experienced guilty sex and sad sex at the same time until then. Afterwards, I just felt depressed. Pete and I took a nap together and then we ate ice cream. We didn’t really say much to one another the rest of the night.

            After watching Harry Potter, Pete fell asleep in my arms. His red boxer clad body looked peaceful for once the entire day. As I ran my fingers through his soft brown hair, I glanced at my alarm clock- it read 11:54 pm. I wanted more coke- more of Rob’s coke- very soon.

            “Where are you going?” Pete asked sleepily as I got out of bed.

            “Just going out to smoke. I’ll be right back,” I replied. I pulled on some jeans, hopping up and down, struggling to get the ridiculously tight material on comfortably. I pulled a red tee shirt over my head and grabbed my jean jacket as I stepped out into the night.

            I put a cigarette between my lips and lit it, taking a long and much needed drag. I thought about it for a moment and hesitated before pulling out my cell phone and calling Rob.

            “Hey,” he said when he answered. He sounded a little tired. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again,” I couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.

            “Well, here I am… calling you. Again.”

            “I can see you smirking through the phone,” he stated. I quickly wiped the smirk off my face.

            “No you can’t,”

            “What do you need, Ryan?” he asked.

            “I need… you know…” What did I need? Morals? A conscience? “I need to get high with you,”

            He chuckled, “Alright, I’ll come by your place. Give me a few minutes. Try not to wake the wife,” he joked. Then, he hung up. I tried my hardest to understand why I was in my current situation.

            Rob. Rob McCormick. He was a drug dealer. He only finished three years of high school before he dropped out. He was the kind of kid that your mother told you not to make friends with, and the kid your dad always prayed you wouldn’t become. He was dirty and sneaky and… charming. Actually, very sweet. I burned the edge of my thumb with my lighter on purpose for thinking that last part.

            I could see Rob’s van coming down the street. My palms got sweaty. I wiped them on my jeans muttering, “What the f**k?” to myself. Why, why did he have this affect on me? He parked a little further down the street from my house, got out and walked around to the other side of the van. He opened the back door and motioned for me to get inside, all the while, smiling like a giddy little kid.

            I sat down across from him in the dimly lit van. The carpet square I sat on looked relatively new and smelled very strongly of pot.

            “Hi,” he said. I looked at his smiling mouth, framed with stubble.

            “Hi,” I greeted him back. He cut me a long line of coke on a piece of cardboard ripped off of a case of beer. I snorted it graciously. I felt better instantly. I felt like everything would turn out okay no matter what I did.

            “I… thought about you a lot today,” I said, fidgeting. He smiled.

            “Me too,” he admitted, “About last night…” he said, breaking the eye contact. “That was, um, nice,” he said.

            “Yeah, but… I have a boyfriend. So… we can’t,” I was having a hard time grabbing onto my thoughts. They were all bouncing around in my head, and I couldn’t hold onto one for very long.

            “But… we can,” he said mischievously, “We both want to, yes? So, why does Peter Pan have to know? He doesn’t party with the big boys any way.” Rob said. I closed my eyes and let his words sink in.

            His presence itself was becoming intoxicating as I remembered that dangerous feeling from the night before. It was making me want him more and more.

            “You’re so smart,” I said, flashing him a smile.

            “Are you flirting with me?” he asked, biting his lip.

            “Yeah,” I said, moving closer to him. “You make me feel… bad. I like it.” I whispered to him. His hand drifted to my thigh instinctively. My lips lightly traced the length of his jaw line until I met his lips. His hand slid further and further up my thigh as his tongue mingled with mine.

            “I have to go now,” I whispered in his ear. He made a pouty face. “I’m sorry,” I leaned in to kiss him one last time, but he deepened it, embracing me fully. After about five more minutes of messing around, I pushed him away. “Pete is sleeping in my bed right now,” I said.

            “Alright,” he said goodnight and let me go. I stumbled out of the van and watched it drive down the street.

            I climbed the stairs back up to my bedroom, pulled my shoes, jeans and coat off, and got into bed next to Pete again. He half consciously touched my face.

            “Love you,” he muttered.

            “I love you too,” I said.

Reviews

[Que]

S**t s**t, this is so sad.
I'll read more tomorrow, but just so you know, I can't describe how much I am loving this.
It's four in the morning, I have to run to bed, I'll read and comment more tomorrow.
Cheers and good night.