Ryan stands frozen at his dresser, red underwear clutched in between his long, boney fingers as his dad's footsteps thud against the wooden floor just below us.

"I told you so!" I hiss, glaring, pulling the big, poofy covers off of me and sliding out of his bed. "I knew he'd come home, Ryan! Because it's so just our luck. See, are you happy I refused sex now?!"

He shoots me an annoyed look, and does the classic Ryan eye roll. "Shut up, and calm down," he orders, voice surprisingly calm. "It doesn't matter. I had to talk to him sometime, it might as well be now."

"Fuck!" I groan, burying my face in my hands. Why? Why? WHY?! I am so not in the mood to deal with his dad today, then again, when am I ever? And I know I'm just gonna stand there like a brainless idiot while he tears into Ryan again.

Ryan shakes his head as he lets out a long exhale of breath, and ignores me while he shoves the last of his things into his bag before zipping it up. Somehow, he manages to slide the thing (that probably weighs as much as him, if not more) onto his back. However, not without scrunching his face together and letting out a loud grunt first.

I smirk. "Need some help there?"

"No," he snaps, making his way to his door, small steps at a time. I switch the light off behind us, and follow close behind just in case he ends up falling over from the weight on his back.

I'm silently praying George is clueless to our presence so we can sneak out the front door, and out of the house without him ever knowing we were here in the first place. But then I remember Ryan's car sitting out in the driveway and our shoes at the front door, and I figure George would have to be pretty frickin' stupid not to know we're here.

Ryan must have finally just given up on the bag, because he lets it drop to the floor when we reach the stairs, and ends up dragging it behind him by the handle, as it thumps down the stairs very, very loudly. I figure that there's really no way of leaving without having to face his dad now.

Of course, I'm right, because once we get to the bottom of the stairs, Pastor George is standing right there, watching us with his hands crossed over his chest.

"I just came to get some clothes," Ryan explains instantly, cutting his dad off before he even has a chance to speak. "I'm leaving right away."

Mr. Ross doesn't say anything, he just stands there, and watches us with his lips pursed tightly together. I stare down at the ground, pulse racing. Why is it that every time I'm around him, I'm expecting to get hit by a bolt of lightening at any second? Oh right, because I probably will.

He still stays silent as Ryan me I slide on our shoes, and in a way, I really just wish he'd say something, anything, because the silence is almost worse than him telling us how disgusting we are.

I grab onto Ryan's duffel before he has a chance to because I figure I'd rather not have my boyfriend die on me today. He looks up at me, but doesn't argue, instead he mutters a soft, almost silent goodbye to his father before going to open the front door.

"Ryan, wait," Mr. Ross finally says, voice exhausted.

He stops, and slowly turns to look at him, hair hanging in his eyes. "Yeah?" he asks, sounding almost hopeful.

"I think it's time that you come back home," he says.

No. No. No. No! You cant take him away from me and out of my bed! How would I live? How would I sleep? How would we have lots of sex?

Ryan looks at him, eyes wide with shock. He looks over at me, then back over to his father, and shakes his head, unsure. "I- I don't know..." he stutters, then looks back at me, eyes begging for help as he gnaws on his bottom lip.

"Ryan," he says, voice icy, "you need help. Help that you certainly aren't going to get living with... him."

Ryan doesn't say anything at first, he just drops his head and stares down at the ground. Slowly, he shakes his head in disbelief, and lets out a small, forced laugh. "Right, of course. How could I have honestly thought you might have changed your mind at least a little from the last time I saw you?"

"I am never going to change my mind. You are living a life of sin, Ryan. You are living your life exactly the way God doesn't want you to live. You are going against his word. You need help to go back to how you were, living a rich, pure life down God's path, before - before he brainwashed you." Mr. Ross glares at me at this, and it's like, okay, wait, hold on a second, I brainwashed him?

"Brendon did not -" Ryan starts, fists clenched in tight little balls at his sides.

"I'm sorry, but I did not brainwash your son, alright?" I finally just snap out cutting Ryan off, my anger bubbling out from inside of me, and it's like, whoa, I actually have a voice? "Ryan has his own brain if you haven't noticed. You just need to let it go and accept your son for who is, because it is who he is. Why does it even matter to you whether he likes boys or girls? He's not going to hell because of it, and I don't care what you try to tell us, God doesn't hate him. So, just let it go because its getting kind of old."

George goes to open his mouth, face red and furious and just plain terrifying, but I cut him off, and go on anyways. Because apparently, you know, I want to die today. "Do you think this has been easy on him? Do you think he likes having you say these things to him?"

"Brendon," Ryan hisses from beside me, touching my elbow lightly to try and stop me.

"Ryan, no," I say, teeth clenched. "Just - just let me say this, okay?"

Ryan bites his lip nervously, and looks down, but doesn't say anything else.

"Do you think he enjoys listening to you tell him that he's disgusting, and a disgrace? His own freaking father that he's looked up to his whole life is telling him he's going to burn in hell? Do you even know how many times I've seen him cry because of things you said to him? Any idea at all?" I snap, and I really need to take a deep breath or drink some water or something before my head just like, spontaneously pops off.

George opens his mouth again, eyebrows furrowed, but for some reason, I just keep going. "And don't give me that shit that he choose to be gay. Because that's just so fucking stupid... and just, god. Do you really think he's putting himself through this shit just for the fun of it? I can tell you right now, that I'm sure if he had the choice he'd choose to be straight, stay with Dayna, get married, live 'normally'. Heck, even sometimes I wish I was straight so I wouldn't have to deal with ignorant assholes like you!" I'm practically screaming now, and whoa, whoa, whoa, pause. Did I actually just call the pastor an ignorant asshole? Oh my goodness, I better just start planning my funeral now.

I finally take a deep breath, face burning and heart pounding in my skull. Ryan's standing beside me, staring at me with his jaw practically all the way down to the floor. He so knows I'm going to die too. There's no possible way I won't.

I grab onto Ryan's wrist, snapping him back to reality, and tug him towards the door, slinging his bag over my shoulder.

"Come on, lets go." I nudge Ryan out of the door, but before slamming it shut behind me, I turn to look at George, speechless, and standing there with a just as dumbfounded a look on his face as Ryan's. Ha, bitch! "You really need to get your priorities and beliefs straight before Ryan comes back here. He has enough shit to deal with without your fucking bullshit!" I slam the door shut, right in his face, still fuming and shaking with anger as I storm down the patio stairs, and over to Ryan where he's standing by his car, eyes still wide with astonishment.

"Keys," I order, thrusting out my hand towards Ryan. It's probably not the best idea that either one of us gets behind the wheel, seeing as I'm fuming and contemplating marching back inside and decking the Pastor in the face, and well, Ryan can't even seem to talk. However, we have to get home somehow, and quick before Pastor George snaps out of his shock, and comes running out with a steak knife.

He nods, digging into his pocket to fish out his keys, hands shaking.

Ryan doesn't say anything the whole ride, instead he just stares at me like I'm possessed or something, while I drive down the street, hands gripping the steering wheel and teeth clenched. I can still feel my heart racing inside my chest.

Once we reach my house, I turn off the car and just sit there, still gripping onto the steering wheel, knuckles white. Ryan's still staring at me, but slowly, he says, "I can't believe you just did that," he breathes.

I close my eyes, and drop my head against the back of the seat. "Me neither," I admit. "I just... I just couldn't help it. He's just so... so... fuck!" I cry, slamming my fist against the steering while in frustration, making the horn go off.

Ryan flinches, but continues to stare at me in amazement. "I've never heard anyone stand up to my dad before..." he says carefully, something in his voice slowly changing.

I turn to look at him, and see his lips are now turned up into a small smile. The shock in his eyes are now replaced with something very, very different. I know that look. Boy, do I ever.

I raise an eyebrow, and gulp.

He leans towards me, and lowers his voice. "That was really hot, you know?"

Now, I'm the shocked one here, because you'd think Ryan would be like, in tears right now. But nope, he just wants to have sex. Fuck, he is so going to be one of those people that finds everything to be a turn-on and are constantly horny.

Um, score?

"It's only..." Ryan starts, pulling his cellphone out from his pocket to check the time, "1:37. I'm sure we have plenty of time till your parents get home..." he says, low and huskily, into my ear, hand running up the inside of my thigh.

Before you have a chance to say myboyfriendisahorndog, we're jumping out of the car and dashing up to the front door, leaving Ryan's bag to sit in the backseat.

---

It's Friday, five minutes after the final bell rang and I'm heading over to Ryan's locker, humming to myself because I'm just... well, I'm so freaking happy, okay? Because, well, for the most part, since Tuesday everyone has seemed to move on and have left us alone. I wouldn't be surprised if they don't even remember who we are anymore. Oh, and of course, because Ryan's perfect. I'm also not dead. And, I'm getting so much sex that I swear, I could just die. Oh, and... did I mention Ryan's perfect?

I turn down the hall, and Ryan comes to view, but I'm surprised to see he's not alone - and he's not with Jon or Spencer either, that's for sure.

It's - It's Dayna.

I approach them slowly, almost scared (okay, fine, I am) But okay, I mean, she so obviously totally hates me, and just... ugh, I don't want to face her. Ever. Then again, I faced the big, scary monster that is Pastor George (and called him an ignorant asshole, at that) so I'm pretty sure I can face a short, little seventeen year old girl. But, I mean, I stole Ryan from her. Ryan. I know if I was her, I'd so be dead.

I expect Dayna to be yelling, or calling Ryan a fag or something unoriginal like that, but as I get closer I see that she's... smiling. Ryan's even smiling. And what? Is that laughter?

Ryan turns to see me, approaching with extreme caution, because I'm still trying to figure out if what I'm seeing is actually happening or not. "Oh, hey, Bren." He beams, grabbing onto my hips to pull me in for a quick kiss. I turn, however (I mean, hello?! Dayna, right freaking there!), so he catches my cheek, just above my jaw.

"Um, hi," I mumble, hands jiggling nervously in my hoody pockets. I don't even dare sneak a glance at Dayna. Not even a quick one. God, I am such a wimp, aren't I?

Ryan frowns, looking me over before a knowing look spreads over his face and his mouth forms a large 'O'. He gives me a look that says it's okay, but I shake my head and look away, because no, it's not.

"So, anyways, what were you saying?" Ryan asks, focusing his attention back onto Dayna.

What the heck is going on?!

"Oh, I was just wondering what you were up to tonight?" she asks, casually, voice cheery with not even a hint of bitterness.

"Oh, me and Bren are going over to Spence's Grandma's for the night," Ryan answers, yanking my hand from my pocket to intertwine our fingers together.

I glare up at him, wondering why he had to bring me into this, and then hold my freaking hand at that!

"Oh, okay. Cool," she says, and she doesn't appear to even notice our hand-holding. That, or she just doesn't care. "Well, have fun. I gotta go meet Becky before she has a conniption though, so I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah, 'course. Bye." Ryan beams, face positively glowing.

Once she disappears down the hallway, out of earshot, I turn to Ryan, incredulously. "What the hell was that about?!" I demand.

"What?" he asks, forehead wrinkling and smile fading.

"Were you just having a normal conversation with Dayna? Dayna the girl you cheated on and dumped for me?" I cry.

"Yes..." he says, slowly, like he really doesn't have any idea why this is a big deal.

"B-but..." I splutter, and I don't even know where to start. Just... just... what? "Doesn't she - doesn't she like, hate you?"

He lets out a small, amused laugh, and leans back against his shut locker. "That's what I thought too, but we talked the other day and I told her I was really sorry, for like, everything that happened, you know? That I never meant to hurt her, because she did mean a lot to me, even if it wasn't in that way. And she thanked me for apologizing, and she knows it's not my fault I don't like girls, but she just wished I had told her sooner, instead of you know, like, cheating on her and stuff. And well, pretty much leading her on. But she knows it not an easy thing, but she respected me for having the courage to tell her everything in the end." He runs his thumb along mine, and continues, "I mean, she said she was really hurt and furious and everything in the beginning, because she did really you know, love me or whatever. But, yeah, she said as long as I'm happy... And you treat me good..."

I raise my eyebrows, because holy crap, that's more than I ever expected. I mean, she must be pretty amazing if she's that understanding and accepting after her boyfriend of four years told her he was gay and was dumping her for a guy. "Wow." Is all I can really say.

"I know." He smiles. "See," he says, poking my shoulder. "I told you she was great. So, you don't have to be all scared or whatever around her. She doesn't hate you, and she definitely doesn't feel the same way as my dad."

"That's - That's good." I nod.

He smiles some more, and nods along with me. "It is." He pulls himself off of his locker, and begins to drag me down the hall, towards the stairs, smirking as he says, "Now, lets go home so we have enough time to... dosomethings, before your parents get home."

Um, and oh yeah, did I mention my boyfriend is perfect?