Sullen
by M. F. LuderPrologue
Ryan looks out the window, watching the scenery as it passes by. The afternoon is dark and cloudy, saddening. He watches buses go by in the other direction every so often. Still, the road seems empty. He sighs.
The sun is already setting and the cars go by with their lights on. The road, along with the sky, gets darker by the minute and it feels as if it is going to rain. He wonders if it might.
Head turned to his left, he feels the strong cold breeze against his face. He doesn't know why he has the window slightly open. He thinks maybe he likes the sting it leaves on him, that shuddering feeling that things are wrong.
He sees the shape of mountains through the thick fog that has fallen onto the road. He's cold as he lifts the collar of his blue jacket.
It starts to rain as he glances in the opposite direction of the route. He thinks about the skating of tires and the probabilities of accidents for a moment, not really caring. The wind chills him to the bone and he closes the window.
Paranoia makes him move his hand to the empty seat on his right and his backpack is still there. He pats it idly, more out of habit than anything else. There's nothing important in there, nothing he can't live without.
There's the ring of a cell phone and he turns to his right, the sound catching his attention. There's a woman sitting on the other side of the aisle, blue business suit and a nice smile. Reddish hair falls into waves over her shoulders as she takes the phone out and flicks it open. Ryan can hear every word she says.
"No, no, I'll be there in an hour. Nah, don't worry about it. I can take a cab. Yeah, I'm fine." She laughs with her whole body, the sound loud against the otherwise silent bus.
She reminds him of Seth in that moment, in the way she moves. His heart tightens.
"Yeah, sure. Keep dinner warm for me, okay? Sure, I'll be fine. Don't worry, sweetie." Another chuckle. "Yeah, love. Love you too."
Ryan can imagine a guy waiting for her to get home, staring at his watch and counting the minutes. He tries not to think about it. He swallows and tells himself it doesn't matter that no one is waiting for him.
He sighs, turning back to the window. He's going home now, to his real home. Not the house he pretended to call home in chino, while in his mind while, he was staring back at the pool, the yard, the small pool house that's been his home for the past months.
He's going home now, and that should be enough.
It's weird how, in the past two months, all he's thought about is home, Newport, the house, the Cohens and Seth. And now, as he's on his way, and he's as close as he could ever get of having what he's been obsessing about, it doesn't feel as sweet as it should.
It feels sweet, but bitter around the edges. His fingers move to the watch he wears and he smiles. He's going home to be with Kirsten and Sandy, to stop the hollow sound in their voices he hears when they talk once a week.
He's going to be with Seth, who refuses to ask about him just as much as Ryan refuses to ask about Seth because, finally, Seth is home. And isn't that surprising how home really isn't home if Seth isn't there?
Ryan shakes his head, staring out the window once again. Minutes tick by and he realizes he can't see beyond the other side of the road, the fog is so thick. He can only see the car lights as the street divides, separated eight feet from each other.
It's dark and gloomy, and seems to fit his mood perfectly. The rain seems to pick up a minute later. The road gets darker.
He places his left ankle on top of his right knee. He catches glimpses of the ocean, wild waves hitting the shore and they remind him of genuine smiles that never meant any harm.
Droplets of water hit the window and Ryan watches them dim the already scarce light. A red Toyota catches up with them on their left. Red and yellow taillights draw his attention. The car honks and Ryan sees a woman on the passenger side. The bus doesn't slow down, nor does the car for the second he can see it.
A child starts crying in the front. Ryan closes his eyes shut at the sound. He can picture the baby, he saw her when he stepped onto the bus and made his way to his seat.
She can't be older than two, with black hair pulled back into a ponytail. She's wearing a purple shirt with a horse on it. Captain Oats. Blinking, he tilts his head to the side, almost smiling.
It's not him, he knows. It's not Captain Oats on the girl's shirt because Ryan would recognize that plastic horse anywhere, but the horse, the imaged printed on the purple fabric is close enough for Ryan to think about the plastic toy on top of the dresser by Seth's bed.
He chuckles, though the sound is low and not at all cheerful. The crying continues. Ryan's chest is tight. He hates crying. It reminds him of home. No, not really home. Not at all.
It reminds Ryan of the apartment-of-the-month with the boyfriend-of-the-month sitting by the TV, watching it, sipping beer bought by her mom -- a rare occurrence -- or by whatever Ryan's been trying to do to get money. Or maybe, just as weird, by Trey in a moment of weakness where he actually bought something for someone who wasn't himself.
He rests his forehead against the glass, closing his eyes as he does so. There's a screeching sound and he opens his eyes in surprise. The bus stops suddenly, the inertia pulling Ryan forward.
He hits his forehead against the back of the seat before him. His left knee hits the plastic edge. The crying gets louder. Another screech. Rain against the window.
The bus slides to the right. His shoulder crashes against the windowsill.
Pain.
Crying.
Shouting
His shoulder gives. A crack. More pain. More screams. He grabs onto the backrest, fingers tight and almost aching. The bus tips over, to the left.
He feels his whole weight against the window. Something hits him on the side, something heavy and loud and then there's a groan. Ryan's pretty sure it's not his. Limbs fall around him and the bus seems to keep on moving, it doesn't stop.
Crying by his side, screaming, the whisper of a name being spoken, and Ryan can only think Seth.
The shouting and crying continue as everything goes black.