Ryan ends up calling his dad later that night to tell him he's sleeping over at Spencer's. Of course, he's not really though. He calls Spencer and tells him to cover for him if his dad calls. However, it doesn't really seem like he cares all that much, even if his dad did find out that he's really staying at my house... in my bed (sorry, I just had to add that one in there). But, like it was previously stated, it's not like it'll be too long before his dad finds about Ryan breaking up Dayna (and the reasons why) because, remember, our church doesn't exactly mind their own business when it comes to these things... or like, anything really.

Nothing too earth-shattering happens, just the usual heavy make-out sessions, with a few gropes because my parents come home not too long after our drama fest #203. Later on, we end up watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith downstairs with my parents, which is probably one of the most difficult things I've ever had to go through in my life. Especially, when the steamy sex scenes came on (even if they are straight ones) because, I mean, Ryan's sitting right there next to me with his thigh pressed against mine.

Oh, the difficulties of having such a hot boyfriend.

My mom lets Ryan sleep in my bed again, and seriously, how did I not realize my mom was so cool before? My dad on the other hand, doesn't say anything (like always), and just kind of just looks at us with the same look he gave us at the dinner table (you know, like we had multiple heads growing out of our body) when he first found out about me and Ryan.

In the morning, he walks in on Ryan and I kissing in the kitchen while in the middle of making some Caption Crunch, and he goes about five different colours, stutters something about going to feed the dog (we don't even own a dog), and practically dashes out of the kitchen. He doesn't look me or Ryan in the eye for the rest of the morning.

Ryan ends up taking his car to church, and I ride with my parents. That way, if his dad already found out about the Ryan/Dayna breakup thing, it might soften the blow a little. And if he didn't, well, it just gives us a little more time before he does.

We arrive at the church about the same time, but I hang back for a few minutes, just in case his dad is standing in the lobby and we walk in together. However, when I do get inside, his dad is nowhere in sight. I also don't see Ryan either, and I get a tiny bit freaked out for a millisecond 'cause he told me he'd wait for me (and apparently, I'm just a possessive boyfriend like that) but then I spot him and Spencer tucked in the corner, talking in hushed voices. And it's like, shit, because I know what they're talking about right away, just by the look on Ryan's face.

I walk over to them, even though me and Spencer are still pissed at each other (then again, when are we not?). "Hey," I mutter, casually.

Ryan sends me a small, forced smile, but his face is white and I can tell he's pretty much scared for his life. Spencer, on the other hand, gives me this little head twitch for a nod. But, hey, at least its something.

"My dad knows, Brendon," Ryan whispers. "He called Spencer's last night, and his parents got to the phone before him."

"Then why didn't he call us last night?"

He shrugs, and bites his lip uneasily. "I don't know... that's what's making me so worried. That's not like my dad at all."

"Maybe he just doesn't care about us being together anymore? Maybe he got over it, and is learning how to accept it," I suggest, and um yeah, definitely not. I don't think I even believe the tiniest bit of it.

Apparently Ryan doesn't either because he shoots me a look like, shut up, Brendon, you're an idiot.

"Hey, what? You never know," I say defensively.

Ryan rolls his eyes, and goes to open his mouth, but my mother dearest cuts him off to tell us that the service is about to start, as her and my dad disappear into the chapel.

Ryan squeezes my elbow, and looks up at me with pleading eyes. "Sit with me?"

"Uh... are you sure that's a good idea?" Spencer asks for me.

He shrugs. "Well, apparently my dad knows now, so why shouldn't we?"

I don't really have time to answer because Ryan's already dragging me after him by my elbow. He seats us near the back, just a few behind my own parents, and Spencer reluctantly follows, sitting down in the last seat near the aisle, beside Ryan.

I momentarily wonder if Dayna's here.

Ryan's hand moves from my elbow, down to my hand, and he holds on tight. My breath hitches in my throat, because really, anyone who looked could see perfectly well, and well, I don't particularly feel like dying today.

However, Spencer is the only one who appears to notice our locked hands at first, and he shakes his head like, Ryan, you are such an idiot. I kind of have to agree with him on that one, because even though I want Ryan to come out and just admit and accept who he is, it's just that, well, we're in a church, where his psycho dad is the freaking pastor.

Music begins to play, and everyone in the room rises, including me and Ryan. He keeps my hand gripped tight in his, so I can't let go, even if I tried. And I know there is no way people can't see our hands now, especially the people directly behind us. My face burns, and seriously, since when did Ryan and I switch roles? Why am I all of a sudden the blushing, closet case, and Ryan's the calm, brave one?

Spencer looks back down at our hands, and shakes his head some more.

Ryan stares ahead at the screen hanging above the stage, and mouths along to the worship song. Through the music and the singing, I can hear people whisper behind us.

The hand gripped into Ryan's is dripping with sweat, and there's no way he doesn't realize it.

Two more songs play, until Ryan's dad steps out and tells everyone to take a seat. Thankfully, there are far too many people in front of us, blocking his sight from mine and Ryan's hands.

We sit with the rest of the congregation, and Pastor George starts off with pointless announcements, like Mr. and Mrs. Whoever are having a baby, and the potluck picnic is next Sunday after service, blah blah blah. I'm barely listening, because all that's going through my head is, oh my God, we are so going to get bashed. Right here, outside in the church parking lot. Who cares if Ryan's the pastors son, we are getting killed. Then again, these are church people, so we'll more likely just get bashed with words and bible scriptures, but still.

Then, just as Pastor George is in the middle of announcing the Youth Group bake sale, his eyes land on us, and he just stops talking, completely. It's probably only seconds that he stops, but it feels like hours for me. He stares at us, with a look that could kill, and I swear, I see my life flash before my eyes.

I look down at my lap, but Ryan just keeps on staring back, almost daring.

Pastor George clears his throat, and looks away. He opens his mouth to continue, but instead of finishing off the rest of the announcements, he closes the folder on the podium and looks up at the congregation, eyes flashing with anger. "Today we're going to talk about homosexuality."

I hear a few faint groans, and see a few head shakes, and I guess there are people who are just as annoyed about hearing this over and over and over again as me. However, there are a few that nod their heads along, and hum along in agreeance.

My stomach drops, and Ryan's grip becomes noticeably tighter. I sneak a glance at him, but he doesn't return my look.

"Homosexuality is an abomination," is how Pastor George starts off, and it's like, wow, how original. Can't you think of something new already? "As mostly all of you know, homosexuals are included in the list of sinners, which means if they do not repent, they will not inherit the Kingdom of God. Homosexuality is a rebellion against God and God's natural order, and embodies a deep-seated hatred against true religion." He keeps his eyes glued on me and Ryan as he says this, I swear, he doesn't take them off for even a split second.

He continues, but I barely listen. I can see people subtly turning around to look at us too, but all I can think about is Ryan sitting next to me with tears in his eyes, and my hand gripped tight into his, losing circulation.

This sermon is different than the others. The others were preaching, passages from the bible. But now, these are only his words. This is, well... it's pure hatred. Pure hatred directed right at us.

"God hates homosexuals," is the last thing he has to say, before Ryan's out of his seat, pushing past Spencer and dashing down the aisle, out the wooden doors.

The doors shut with a loud bang, and everyone is silent. I don't really give it too much thought before I'm running out after Ryan, the entire congregation - including Ryan's dad - stares at me. My head pounds, and I'm sure everyone can hear it loud and clear.

Ryan's nowhere in the lobby, and I'm in complete panic mode as I frantically search for him, my heart pounding and face burning. I check the washroom, the youth room and I even run past the Pastor's office to see, but Ryan is nowhere in sight.

Finally, I spot a figure outside of the glass, front doors, leaning against the brick wall. I breathe a sigh of relief as I make my way through the lobby to the doors, and as I get closer, I'm surprised, but glad to see his cheeks are dry.

Ryan doesn't open his eyes when I join him outside. His mouth is moving, but no sound is coming out, and I realize he's praying, even after all of this.

Something inside me stirs, and flutters, and does fucking somersaults because that shows some serious faith. And sure, maybe I'm not exactly sure about this whole religion thing, but something about how he can still this belief in a thing that started this whole situation in the first place is really kind of admirable (okay, and a little bit of a turn-on, but then again, what about him doesn't turn me on?).

I don't say anything as I step closer, and take his hand in mine. He gives it a quick squeeze of recognition, but keeps his eyes closed and continues to pray.

A few minutes pass before he finishes, and opens his eyes to look at me with a blank expression. His eyes are wet, and he looks so tired and dead, like he's been awake for days. It occurs to me then, that maybe he has been.

All of a sudden, Ryan kind of just collapses into my arms, and presses his cheek to my shoulder without a word. I rub my hand along his back, and press a kiss to the top of his head. "It's okay, it's okay," I repeat, softly into his ear, over and over again until the words feel foreign on my lips.

He sniffs, but I'm not sure if he's crying or not.

"I cant believe him," Ryan finally says.

"I know, Ry, I know."

The door slams behind us, and we barely have time to think before Ryan's being yanked off of me - by none other than his father. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Embarrassing me like that in front of the entire church?" he seethes, Ryan's skinny arm gripped tight in his large hand.

"You honestly thought I'd want to sit and listen to you go on saying those things about me?" Ryan snaps back, trying to yank his arm free, but George holds on tight.

"I don't really give a damn what you want, right now," he hisses, yanking on his arm. "This is something you need to hear, because I am not going to let my son continue to lead a filthy and disgusting - "

"Oh, okay, so I'm sick and disgusting?" Ryan questions, eyes flashing as he finally yanks his arm free of his fathers grip.

I, on the other hand, just stand there, useless, with my thumbs up my bum (not really, because I have a feeling that would be highly inappropriate), not having a clue what to say or do.

"If you continue to lead the lifestyle that you are right now, then yes," George replies.

Ryan lets out a small, bitter laugh, and nods. "Right, okay. Well, then I guess you're out of luck then, because I'm done pretending to be someone I'm not just to impress you. I know that God still loves me, and accepts me, and I really, honestly don't give a shit what you think anymore. If you don't want a gay son, well then, I guess you no longer have one then. Because I am gay, and you can give me all the speeches you want, send me to therapist after therapist, or even kick me out of the house but that's not going to change."

When Ryan finishes his little speech (which I am so proud of him for, by the way), nothing is said for a long time. George stares at Ryan, eyes burning, and I'm actually considering running away and getting a bucket of water before something catches on fire.

After what feels like a few more centuries pass, Ryan steps back toward me, and grabs a hold of my hand, forcing me to realize that, oh yeah, I actually am still here. "And you see this dad?" he asks. "This is Brendon, my boyfriend, and I love him."

Pastor George must have had enough, because he's grabbing back onto Ryan's arm and dragging him off into the direction of the parking lot. "That's it," he yells. "I am not going to stand here and allow you to humiliate me in the house of God."

Ryan screams after him, cursing and swearing as he tries to pull his arm away from his fathers grasp. Then there's me still, eyes wide and feet planted to the ground. And why do I have to be such a freaking wimp?

"Let go of him, George!" a voice calls, and we all stop and turn to see my dad standing there, complete with his hands on his hips and all. And it's all like, dun dun dun, my usual spineless dad to the rescue!

My mom must be just as shocked as I am that he's actually standing up for something for once, because she stands behind him, with her mouth literally hanging open. Then, I look behind her to see practically the whole fucking church 'subtly' surrounding the door to see the action take place. I realize that Pastor George must have just left them all to sit there in the middle of a sermon so he could run outside and yell at his son for being a fag.

And I'm still kind of standing there like, when did my life become a soap opera?

"Don't tell me what to do with my son, Boyd!" he yells back.

My dad says nothing back, and it's like yup, he's back to being spineless. I knew it was too good to be true.

However, my mom goes rushing over to him, and it's a good fucking thing she's here and it's not just me and my dad, because if it was, Ryan would be long gone now and on his way to his death.

"George, come on, I think you're overreacting a little here," my mom starts, calm and reasonable. "You need to take a deep breath and let Ryan go. This is no way to deal with anything."

A few seconds pass, but slowly, and surprisingly, he obeys and drops Ryan's arm, who doesn't skip a beat before he's rushing back to me, grabbing onto my waist. He presses his face into me, just under my shoulder, and I notice his arm where his dad was holding onto him is red from his fingertips.

"Brendon," my mom says, turning her attention to us, "why don't you take Ryan's car and go to our house? We'll meet you there."

"I don't think so," George starts, but Ryan's already pulling me away at great speed.

When we reach his car, Ryan reaches into his pockets and pulls out his keys. Since he has one of those super fancy (okay, fine, to me at least) automatic button things, he unlocks all the doors at once and practically dives into the passenger seat, even though his dad is still quiet a few feet away with my mom and dad.

I can tell Ryan is seconds away from breaking down, but even as we drive out of the parking lot, he keeps it in, biting down hard onto his bottom lip.

I sneak a quick glance at him from the corner of my eye, and I feel too pathetic and embarrassed to say anything, because I just stood there the entire time not doing a thing to defend him. I mean, what kind of a boyfriend am I anyway, just letting his dad drag him away?

Obviously, a really shitty one.

Thankfully, my house is close to the church, but as I park Ryan's car in my driveway, he still has yet to cry. He just stares ahead with a blank expression on his face. Which, I'm not entirely sure, but it is possibly, even a little worse than him crying.

We stay in his car, letting the silence wash over us. Finally, I decide to just open my mouth and I don't know, apologize for my absolute patheticness. "Ry, look, I'm so sorry, I should have done something. If my par - "

"Don't say sorry," he says quietly, cutting me off. He shrugs. "It doesn't matter. I don't blame you, I mean, I probably would have been the same. My dads pretty scary."

Pff, yeah, that's an understatement.

"I know, but - still." I sigh, running my hands through my hair. "I'm the shittiest boyfriend on the face of this planet."

"No," he says, shaking his head, "you're not."

"I am. I mean, I just stood there while - "

Ryan closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. "Brendon, please, just shut up, okay?"

I shut up.

He drops his forehead to my shoulder, and says nothing. I pet his hair, and stare ahead of us at my closed garage door, Ryan sniffling and hiccoughing against me.

We stay there until my parents knock on my window, telling us to come inside