Yelling
by M. F. LuderPart nine
You love me but you don't know who I am
I'm tore between this life I lead and where I stand
- Let me go. Three Doors Down.
On Tuesday morning, there's a feeling of lack of reality, and too much reality, as Ryan walks out of Calculus and sees Seth leaning against the wall, bag across his chest, smile on his face.
"Again," Seth says as they walk down the hallway, "that History thing, right?"
Ryan nods, looking at his feet as he wonders if maybe today Seth will start asking the question that Ryan has no answer for. "Yeah. We gotta finish that."
"Dude, how long have you been working on this? This is... what? Week four?"
Ryan swallows with difficulty and he can feel his palms starting to sweat even as they tighten on the strap across his chest. "Yeah, something like that."
"You know, you can give up on it. It's not that important."
And for a moment, Ryan feels like Seth's not talking about school as they pause at the end of the hallway and Seth turns around to look him straight in the eye. Ryan blinks, pausing, and he wonders what he can say. It feels like Seth knows and he wants Ryan to tell him that he'll stop doing this, doing this thing to himself.
Ryan presses his lips into a thin line. There's nothing for him to stop doing. "It's not that easy."
Seth shakes his head, snoring as he does so. "Ryan, it's so very easy. You just... stop. Worrying, at least. It's not that big of a deal."
Ryan pauses, his mouth opening but no words coming out. He wants to answer, but doesn't know what to say. And then Seth tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowing, piercing into Ryan and asking for a missing piece of this whole thing and when Ryan feels like another second and Seth will know, will see every single bruise and touch and mark under Ryan's shirt, Ryan ducks his head. "I have to do this."
There's silence for a moment and Ryan fears Seth won't be detoured that easily, not when he knows something’s wrong, something doesn't add up, but then, when Ryan looks up, Seth shrugs. "If you're sure."
Ryan nods, letting out a soft sigh of relief. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sure."
Seth bites on his lower lip, then nods once again. "Okay," he says, even as they reach study hall.
Surprising himself, Ryan gives Seth a small smile. "Don't worry," he says, words coming out of his mouth without him noticing. "It won't be much longer."
Seth frowns, but nods, before looking down at his feet even as he nudges Ryan's right shoulder with his left one, and Ryan can almost see a blush on his cheeks. "I'll pick you up today, k?"
"There's no need."
Seth shrugs, head still ducked, shifting from one foot to the other. Ryan frowns, confused. "I can do it. I don't have homework due tomorrow."
"You sure? What about French?"
"Nah. Finished it over the weekend. It wasn't much."
Ryan doesn't quite believe Seth, but he lets it go. He looks over Seth's shoulder and can see the three girls at one table, looking over at him and Seth. "If you're sure--"
Seth nods. "Yeah. Totally. Call me when you know it's almost finished. It’ll give me enough time to get there."
Ryan would rather Seth didn't bother because next time, next Thursday when Ryan has another History paper to get done, Seth might want to pick Ryan up, and what is he supposed to say then?
Still, Ryan nods because he knows Seth and Seth won't back down on something like this. Simply because that's Seth, and it's one of the many reasons Ryan really likes Seth. "Sure," Ryan says.
Seth swallows thickly and seems to debate what to do next before hitting Ryan's forearm with his closed fist in a goodbye salute that looks even more awkward than it feels. Ryan chuckles, shaking his head.
"You okay?" Ryan asks, head tilted, because Seth seems to be blushing from his cheeks all the way up to his ears.
"Yeah."
"Okay..." Ryan trails off before extending his hand to Seth, who takes it, and they say their goodbyes like they always do. Hands clasped together, Ryan brings his right shoulder against Seth's left, and at the touch, Ryan can feel Seth stiffening. He lets it go, seeing that Seth doesn't quite meet his eyes.
"I gotta go. Call me," Seth says, head still ducked, barely lifting his eyes for a second before bringing them up once again.
Ryan nods and watches Seth walk out of the study hall and down the hallway. Sighing, Ryan turns around and makes his way toward his group.
They don't really take that long, barely an hour and a half, and when Ryan sees that it's just a matter of getting things together, he calls Seth. However, Ryan seems to suck at calculating time because by the time Seth arrives, they still need to write the conclusion. Ryan's forced to introduce the girls to Seth, who's here to pick him up, and Sarah and Bridget look at each other for a moment before giggling. Seth sits at their table, writing on the edges of Ryan's notebooks, silly things like I'm bored, and we're going to the movies after this, and I forgot how boring History could be. Ryan chuckles when he reads the doodles along the margins.
When they are done and the two of them walk toward the parking lot, Seth turns around to look at Ryan. "Dude, we're so going to the movies."
Ryan tilts his head to the side. "What about homework?"
"You don't have anything for tomorrow, I know it, you did everything over the weekend." Seth rolls his eyes. "I don't understand this fascination of yours with doing homework. Really, dude."
Ryan chuckles. "What's playing today?"
"Tons of stuff."
And as Seth knew, Ryan does give in and they go to the movies. And then Ryan gives in once again, even though he knows better, and they see "The Boogeyman." Seth's track record when it comes to horror movies is not really perfect, actually bordering on tragic. Seth doesn't take horror movies well. He ends up with nightmares and sleeps with the light on, and that’s if he sleeps with Ryan.
So Ryan should have put his foot down and told Seth that no, they weren't watching that movie, the poster alone made it pretty obvious that this was a ghost kind of movie, and they would go and see...
But this is Seth, and what Seth wants, Ryan usually ends up giving him. So he gave in.
Ryan could feel Seth shuddering from moment to moment, jumping in his seat, even slightly, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. And the pretending was pretty good throughout the rest of the afternoon and dinner. However, when night came, Ryan could see Seth looking over his shoulder, taking a second look in the corners and in the mirrors. Seth was scared, plain and simple, and Ryan wasn't going to let Seth not sleep like that. Because when Seth's scared, he doesn't sleep.
Ryan sighs, shaking his head as they finish watching TV, closer to eleven than Ryan would like. Seth's probably trying to get enough courage to go to bed at this hour, too tired to even think about shadows in his closet, but by the way Seth keeps swallowing with difficulty, it's not really working. The parents have gone up to bed and Ryan knows there's something to get done.
"Come on," Ryan says, nudging Seth on the shoulders. "Let's go. It's late."
Seth nods, frowning slightly, looking over at the edge of the den where the light doesn't reach and there's nothing but shadows. But Seth stands up and nods and turns off the TV. Total blackness takes over the den and Ryan can almost hear Seth's heart pounding in his chest. Ryan sighs. Stupid of him, really, to let Seth watch that movie. God. What was he thinking?
Ryan nudges Seth's shoulder once again and watches Seth jump a few feet off the ground and chuckles. Scared out of his own skin. It's the last time they watch something like that. Last time, period.
They walk to the kitchen and Ryan turns on the light, shaking his head at the soft sigh of relief from Seth.
"You need anything from your bedroom?" Seth lifts an eyebrow at Ryan's question and Ryan snorts. "Your sweats, probably. Look, I'll wait here, go get them and let's go to the pool house."
Seth shakes his head. "Dude, not at all. I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, sure."
Ryan turns off the light and he hears a small squeaking noise escape Seth's lips, then a hand grips his forearm tightly. Ryan shakes his head and turns on the light once again. "Right, you're fine."
Seth sighs, shakes his head and mutters an "I'll be back in a sec," under his breath.
It doesn't take long for Seth to come back and they make their way into the pool house in comfortable silence. Ryan changes inside the bathroom, scars from last week not yet healed. They don't heal anymore, Ryan notices. By Monday, both his shoulder and his hip used to look almost normal. But not this week. He sighs, shaking his head and putting on his sweats. It'll stop soon, nothing to worry about.
When he walks out of the bathroom, Seth's already lying on the bed, all the lights on, clutching the sheet tightly and looking straight at the ceiling. Ryan smiles. Scared out of his own skin, yes, and no more movies. No matter what the hell Seth says.
Ryan turns off the lights and pushes back the sheets, lying down on his side, looking at the fear etched on Seth's face. His hand reaches out to touch Seth's shoulder. Seth stiffens under his fingertips for a second, barely a blink of an eye, before letting out a soft sigh that Ryan can hear clearly, and then relaxing.
"You're scared," Ryan says, needing to state the obvious.
Seth sighs, shaking his head, but Ryan knows he won't really deny it. "It's dark."
Ryan nods. "Yes, it is."
They don't say anything else, Ryan can't really think of a word to add onto this. Seth knows that he's scared and they shouldn't have watched that movie. Ryan knows that he will not watch any more horror movies with Seth. Seth knows this. They both do.
Ryan swallows thickly past the lump in his throat. For a pair that is so honest with each other, Ryan knows there are words that can't be spoken, sentences that can't be said and secrets that can't be shared. He wishes it wasn't like this, that he could open his mouth and let the words flow out of him, but he can't. Even if he could, Ryan wonders if he would. There are some secrets that aren't meant to be shared.
Ryan's hand moves from Seth's shoulder to his forearm, pausing by his elbow. Seth's skin under his fingertip is soft and warm, arm no longer shaking, and Ryan lets himself smile. Everything will be okay.
"I'm here," Ryan says, for a reason he can't quite understand.
Ryan sees Seth nod under the soft light coming through the pulled curtains as he replies, "I know."
Seth rolls on the bed, until he's facing Ryan. Seth closes his eyes, slowly, letting out a sigh through parted lips, and Ryan follows. Seth's arm moves under his touch and when Ryan thinks that maybe Seth'll pull away for a more comfortable position, he's surprised to find his hand being clasped by Seth's, tightly, almost hurting. Ryan doesn't say anything, only squeezes back once before relaxing so much, he doesn't notice when sleep takes over him.
"Teach me how to shoot," Ryan told Trey on a Friday afternoon. Trey looked down at him, snorted and turned around.
"Sure, little brother. Whatever."
Ryan placed his hand on Trey's shoulder and pulled, turning Trey around. Ryan glared as much as he could at his age and set his lips into a thin line. "Teach me."
Trey learned how to shoot when he was fourteen, or thirteen probably, Ryan didn't exactly remember, but he learned and now, well, now Ryan thought it was his turn.
"Why do you want to know, anyway? I thought you didn't like that."
Ryan sighed softly, looking down at his feet. He remembered Eddie telling Trey that it was time he taught his little brother a thing or two, and shooting was one of them. He was ten, yes, and maybe a little bit young, but he could very well hold the gun. Ryan had refused. Trey, Eddie, Arturo and the rest had mocked him for a while, but forgot afterward. That had been four months ago.
"I thought you wanted to teach me." Ryan shrugged, turning around and watching the small screen TV. "If you don't want to teach me, I can ask Eddie. I'm sure he'll agree."
There was one thing about Trey, and that was, whatever concerned Ryan, had to go through Trey first. Trey wasn't against pulling a nasty prank on Ryan, or two. He wasn't against shoving him or kicking him out of the room, as long as Trey did the shoving and kicking. And Trey would most certainly not let somebody else teach Ryan something as basic as how to shoot.
"I don't know why the fuck you want to learn anyway," Trey said, leaning back against the chair, picking up one piece of stale bread, no more cheese left. "You sure you wanna learn?"
Ryan nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, fuck. Whatever. Tomorrow. I'm sure I can get some ammo for tomorrow."
And so, that was settled. Trey left that night, went out with the gang and when he came back, close to five and the light coming from the window clear and bright blue, Trey nudged Ryan on the shoulder. "I've got the stuff," he said, pulling off his shirt. "We'll do it in the morning, while mom's out. Go to that site outside of Chino."
Ryan nodded, rolled over in bed and slept for three more hours. It wasn't like Trey was going to be getting up at the crack of dawn.
It wasn't until almost noon that Trey actually woke up, and two in the afternoon when they drove to the outskirts of town in Eddie's cousin's old car. They had enough ammo for a couple of rounds, and Eddie and Arturo and Trey got first dibs.
When it was Ryan's time to shoot, he couldn't stop his hand from trembling as he held the gun in his fingers for the first time.
"It's not that hard," Trey said, standing by Ryan's right shoulder. "You just aim and shoot. That's it."
Ryan looked over his shoulder at Trey, then down at his hand. He had no idea the name of the gun, or the brand or whatever. He only knew it was a gun and he had it in his hand.
"Just pull back the safety and aim."
Ryan did that. Pulled back the safety with his thumb, like Trey showed him to, and lifted the gun, aiming at the cans on the floor, about thirty feet from him. His finger touched the trigger and Ryan felt bile in his throat. He took a deep breath and pulled. The sound of the bullet was loud in his ears and Ryan realized it hadn't even gotten close to the can. Ryan shot five more times, not once hitting the target. Ryan was fuming by the time Trey took the gun from his hand.
"Why are you so fucking pissed off?" Trey said, going back to the car, opening the passenger door. "It's not like you're in a fucking rush to learn. Get in the car."
Ryan sighed, did as he was told and folded his arms across his chest. He didn't say anything on the way back.
When they reached home almost six hours later, detouring to visit some of Trey's friends, have a couple of beers and Trey and another guy going to the bathroom for a moment and coming out with a weird look in his eyes, his mom and dad were sitting on the couch, plates on their laps, watching the TV.
Trey walked straight to his room to change his shirt, which had been spilled with beer at some point. His mom looked away from the TV for a moment, realized it was Trey and Ryan, and then looked back at the screen.
"You want grilled cheese? There are some sandwiches left on the stove."
Ryan bit on his lower lip, watching his parents. His dad reached down for a beer sitting by his feet. His mom tilted her head and leaned back on the couch. Neither of them looked at him. They barely even blinked.
Help me, he wanted to say to his parents in that moment. Help me.
Ryan sighed, turning around and walking to the kitchen. There were three sandwiches left. He split one in half and took a part, leaving the rest for Trey. He sat on the small armchair by his mother's left and pulled his legs up on the seat.
Trey walked into the kitchen, picked up the remaining sandwiches and made his way to the living room. He sat on the floor, by Ryan's feet, and asked what they were watching.
Ryan blinked, not quite seeing the screen or understanding the plot. His hand shook as he held his dinner, and he told himself to cut it out. It wasn't the time. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at his mother -- she couldn't stop it --, at his father -- he didn't listen -- and at his brother -- who couldn't protect him -- before letting out a sigh, shaking his head, and staring down at his hands.
It was only Saturday night and Ryan could already feel Thursday looming close, the fourth week of his living nightmare, and the people around him had no idea, probably never would. His hands kept shaking until the show finished.
They probably could be doing homework. Ryan knows Seth has two papers due Monday, and about a ton more things for the rest of the week, and Ryan's school load isn't easy either, but it's Friday and there is nothing to get done for tomorrow and there's an ever-present aching on Ryan's thighs and shoulder, so when Seth suggested video games until dinner, Ryan can’t say no.
Some time after six, when Ryan's fingers start to hurt because he has been pressing the buttons too much, trying to get his car to move faster and his ninja to actually kill the evil ninjas around him, that he shakes his head and lets his control fall down on his lap when the last game is lost.
"Another one?"
Ryan cranes his neck to the side, hearing something inside pop, and he groans in discomfort. Too much and too long of a game. "Nah, I'm tired."
Seth looks down at his hand then up at the game. He sighs. "Yeah, you're right. My fingers hurt."
Ryan snorts. "You're not the only one."
"Guys?"
Kirsten's voice forces Ryan to stand up from the floor and make his way out of the den and toward the kitchen. Both her and Sandy walk into the kitchen, arms full of paper bags. Ryan takes two.
"Thanks," Kirsten says, giving him a small kiss on the cheek.
"Oh, food!"
Seth takes another bag, getting out a container. "What did you get for dinner?"
Seth pulls open the container and reaches inside to pick at a roll of chicken. Kirsten swats away his hand.
"Seth, don't, we're having company."
Seth raises an eyebrow as Ryan opens the fridge, placing the gallon of orange juice inside. "Who?"
"Dick."
Ryan's hand stills on the door as he's about to close it, his chest seems tight and he lets out a shaky sigh. He can almost see his breath in front of him. Oh, God. He shakes his head to clear his mind, but it doesn't seem to help as he bites down on his lower lip and closes the door with a shaky hand.
"What?" Seth groans, resting his forehead against the counter. "Mom, God. That's--"
"I invited him over, Seth, please. He's a friend of this family."
Ryan picks up the vegetables as well, putting them in the lower cabinet of the fridge. Apparently, they got the groceries as well. His chest is still tight and something must be wrong with his lungs because he can hardly draw a breath. If he keeps his back to them, if he doesn't say anything and keeps on putting away the groceries, they might not notice how his hands are shaking and how he's sweating even though his fingers hurt from the cold.
"Yeah, well," Seth keeps on saying, not quite pausing, "Whatever. He's boring." He turns around to look at Sandy as Ryan picks up the milk and two boxes of cereal. "Can we go out for dinner? Leave you three seniors to your... stuff. The news about who has the new nose and who's cheating on whom."
"That's not all we talk about, Seth."
Seth rolls his eyes at his mother. "Whatever. Like I really care. Oh, come on, mom. You can't force us to sit here and listen to you."
Sandy seems to be on their side. "Well, it will probably be very boring for you two."
"Sandy."
Sandy chuckles, leaning forward to give Kirsten a kiss on the corner of her lips. "Let them go. They can have pizza, watch a movie. We can have a decent dinner with some adult conversation."
"Argh, dad. Really. Adult conversation? How boring can you get?" But Seth's bouncing on his feet even as he says this, and takes the couple of bills that Sandy gives him.
"Okay, but this is the last time," Kirsten says with a shake of his head. "Next time he comes over, or we go to his place, I want both of you with us. We're supposed to make him feel like family."
"Be back before eleven," Sandy says, turning around to catch Ryan's eye. Ryan's breath catches in his throat and he nods from sheer habit. "Call as soon as you're leaving the theater, or the restaurant, either way. Call to say you're on your way back."
"Sure," Ryan manages to get out, putting the cereal away. He pauses, his hand on the knob, and takes a deep breath before turning around once again.
For a moment, Ryan considers the possibility of what Mr. Dart coming here might imply. It's Friday and next week will be week five and that can't happen. It didn't happen before, it can't happen now. So... so this means it will stop.
They'll find out, Ryan can't help but think. They'll stop this. His mom, the wreck that she was, found a way to stop it. If she did, if she somehow did it, then so can they Cohens. They can. They'll figure out a way to stop this and it might happen today and he doesn't want to be here when it happens.
"Thanks," Seth says, jumping off his seat by the counter. "I'm gonna grab my jacket."
Ryan nods, turning around to look at the two more bags he still has left to put away. But if he stays longer, he might be here when Mr. Dart arrives and that's something Ryan's not willing to risk.
"Don't worry about it," Sandy says, jerking his head on the way to the French doors. "Go on. Get out of here."
Ryan gives them what passes for a smile these days and turns on his heels. He walks into the pool house and looks around. His jacket. He just needs his jacket to get out of there, not be there when Mr. Dart arrives for dinner, and that's exactly what he wants. He picks up his jacket from the armchair in the corner and when he straightens, he can hear a voice on his ear, a soft whisper that catches him by surprise.
Are you sure you don't want to stay, wait for him? You know he likes you. You know he'd like to see you. You might... he might touch you.
Ryan shudders at the thought, shaking his head, hand reaching forward to grab the armrest tightly. No, no. Go. Leave. Fuck. Go.
He can almost feel a hand on his shoulder, breath on the nape of his neck, and a throaty whisper. Beautiful. So beautiful.
"Ryan?"
He swirls around, surprised and half afraid, the fingers holding the jacket loosening, letting it drop to the floor.
Seth tilts his head to the side, confused. "Dude, you ok?"
Ryan swallows, nodding as he does. He offers Seth a trembling smile, not more than a curl of his lip, and picks up the jacket. "Yeah, sure." His fingers shake as he puts on the jacket, walking out of the corner Seth seems to have placed him in, and toward the doors.
"Why do you think they invited him?"
Ryan shrugs. "Don't know."
But even as he says the words, Ryan wonders. Last time, so many years ago that he'd rather forget completely about it, it was his mom who fixed it. In her very wreck of a way, but she did. And Ryan can't help but think that if she did, then so must the Cohens, with a better reason.
"What do you think about Mr. Dart?"
The question makes Ryan pause by the door, turning around to look at Seth with wide blue eyes. "What did you say?"
Seth shrugs, taking a step forward and sitting on the edge of the bed, black jacket on. "I don't know. It's just that... I don't know. He seems... weird. He looks weird. I think that's it. He looks at people weird."
"Weird, how?" Ryan takes a tentative step closer, Seth's knees almost touching his calves.
"I don't know." Seth shudders, looking down at the physical contact between the two of them instead of at Ryan's shaky and wide blue eyes. "Dude. I don't know. He gives me a bad vibe."
"You have nothing to worry about," Ryan says fiercely, "Okay? Nothing."
His nostrils flare as he inhales, his throat works when he swallows. He won't touch you. He won't dare. I won't let him. Fuck, I won't let him. He won't touch you if he's got me.
A question rises in his mind and Ryan can't stop himself from asking it, even though he knows better, even though he's certain he would have noticed, seen the signs. "You haven't been alone with him, have you?"
Seth gaps. "Dude, first of all, ew. Second, God, no, are you insane? Do you think I'm that much of an idiot?"
Ryan sighs, letting relief wash over him even as he gives Seth a small smile. "No, of course not." You're not. I am. You would have told. I couldn't. I can't.
Seth shudders, nudging Ryan's leg with his knee and Ryan takes a step back. Seth stands up. "Ew. Dude. Really. Ew. Ugly mental picture."
Ryan snorts, shaking his head. He pats Seth's shoulder with a slightly trembling hand, but the warmth under his fingers is enough to put him at rest, to let him breathe a little bit easier.
He won't touch you, Ryan thinks, breathing hard. Fuck, because if he does, I'll kill the bastard.
"I just didn't want to have dinner with him, you know?"
Ryan nods, totally understanding. Seth actually read his mind back then, in the kitchen. Saved him. Had his back. Ryan smiles easily this time, squeezing Seth's shoulder. "I know." I understand. "It's okay." Neither did I. "It's better if we have dinner out."
"I know." Seth looks over his shoulder as he pushes the door open. "Let's just get out of here before mom changes her mind."
His brown eyes are friendly and Ryan can almost hear words that aren't really spoken. It's okay dude. I've got your back.
Ryan nods, smiling, walking past Seth out into the back yard. I know.
They say their goodbyes to the parents, Seth getting a few more bills from Kirsten and Sandy gives Ryan the emergency credit card, not underlining the emergency enough.
They walk out of the house and take the Rover long before Mr. Dart makes his way into the house. Ryan breathes easily from the passenger seat. United, Ryan thinks after a moment, and he smiles even as Seth makes a joke and then Ryan's laughing, forgetting about the shadow touch on his shoulder.