The thing is, I don't really mind going to Church. I mean, yeah, it's kind of boring, but sometimes it's not too bad, except for the Sundays that Pastor George goes off on his favorite subject -- homosexuality. And then, it just really sucks.

Sitting there for an hour, listening to some fifty year-old man - who's got a ridiculously hot son that you secretly jack off to from time to time - go on about how you're a terrible person, God hates you, you're going to hell, and all that kind of wonderful stuff, isn't exactly my idea of a fun time.

Some Sundays however, he doesn't talk about it. I like those Sundays. Those are good Sundays. Of course, this isn't one of those Sundays. Because it's me, and apparently, God does hate me.

The only good thing about the whole ordeal is that Ryan is sitting two rows in front of me, and I wind up staring at the back of his head - which I have to say, is almost as beautiful as the front, the boy's really just beautiful all over - all service tuning out the 'Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination' that I've heard so many times before. I swear, if I hear it anymore, my brain will explode into a million little pieces.

After the service, I'm standing outside in the lobby, arms crossed and pouting on the inside - and maybe even a little on the outside - because the thing about my parents is that they just never leave. It's like, their solid duty to make sure they talk to every single person in the church every single Sunday. And, I'll tell you, my church is big.

Then, to make matters worse, this really annoying girl, Faye, with stringy, blond hair, thick box glasses and teeth that go in every which direction who's had a crush on me since I was like, four, comes up to me and like, starts attempting to flirt or something.

She's all like, "Ooh, Brendon, how are you? I haven't seen you in so long! You're so attractive. Marry me. Have my spawn."

And I'm kind of like, "Fall off the face of this planet."

Okay, so, maybe it doesn't go quite like that, but it's close enough anyway.

Then, God really must hate me today, because then Ryan comes skipping over and goes, "Hey, Bren!" all enthusiastically with his big, huge 'the world is wonderful' grin.

I give him this weak smile back while thinking, does it ever end?!

Of course, it doesn't, because then he goes, "I was thinking maybe we could hang out for awhile. We could go for some pizza or something."

Right when I'm about to open my mouth and give him some excuse like I'm going to go bury my dead cat or something, my mom jumps in all crazy and chipper and goes, "Oh my god! He'd absolutely love to, Ryan!"

My head just kind of snaps at her all on it's own and I give her the death look to end all death looks. She smirks back, and bats her eyelashes just like any other respectable forty-five year old woman.

My mom officially hates my guts.

Ten minutes later, I'm sitting in the passenger seat of Ryan's little blue sedan, that's blasting Relient K, which I only know because whenever my older sister, Amanda comes home from home from college she just sits in her room and listens to it all day on full blast.

Ryan's hand is tapping against the steering wheel, and he's mouthing along to the words, and I'm wondering why the hell he wanted to hang out with me. I thought he'd like, never even look anywhere near the direction of where I was even standing anymore.

"So, the pizza place we're going to is really good," he says, still drumming along to the music, which is almost too happy it hurts. "I've been going there for forever."

I give a short nod, and stare out the window, past the golden cross hanging from his rear-view mirror.

The pizza place is like, the definition of a suburban teen's hang out. With the big, comfy red booths and checkered floors. There's a jukebox in the corner, and the waitress' are dressed in uniforms that you'd see in the 50's. I have to admit, it's kind of cute.

Ryan suggests a meat-lovers pizza, while drool is practically dripping down from his mouth. I shudder a little, and say awkwardly, "I don't eat meat..."

"Oh, okay." He beams, like it's no problem whatsoever and when the waitress comes he orders one extra large vegetarian pizza. I kind of love him for it but, just for a second.

"So..." he starts, running a finger along the linoleum table.

And, it's still bugging me why he invited me here in the first place, so I just kind of blurt out, out of nowhere, "If you invited me to hang out just to like, try and turn me straight or something, it's not going to work so you might as well, just like, stop before you start."

His eyes go wide, and his mouth kind of hangs open a little, and it's not the oh-my-god-you-just-figured-me-out kind of look but more like the oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-you'd- think-that kind of look.

I shift in my seat and feel sort of like a jackass now. But, just a little.

"I'm... I'm not like that," he says, voice soft and he really does look hurt that I'd even think that about the perfect saint that is him.

"Oh... okay..." And now it's even more awkward than before. Good job, Brendon.

"I'm just... I'm curious, I guess," he says, eyes shifting from me, cheeks a little pink.

I raise an eyebrow. "Curious?"

"Yeah... it's just, like I said, I've never known anyone gay before," he replies, he coughs awkwardly and stares at the table so intensely it's like he's trying to set fire to it or something. "It's just, ever since I was younger I've heard my dad... well, you know, I've heard my dad speak about how terrible it is and stuff, and it's such a sin, an 'abomination' if you will. And, I guess after all these years of him telling me everyone that is... gay, is just this horrible person, I guess I just expected them to be like, murderers or like, throw ceremonies to worship Satan or something."

"How do you know I don't?" I challenge. "How do you know I'm not plotting your death right now, Ryan Ross?"

He looks up from the table to see the grin that I just couldn't contain, and sends me a doubtful look. "Shut up. I'm trying to have a serious conversation here, Brendon."

"I know, sorry." I mumble.

There's a pause as he stares off into the restaurant that's quickly filling up for lunch. He looks back to me, straight in the eyes and asks, "Do you believe in God?"

I actually have to think about this one, because I'm still not entirely sure. Minutes pass, before I finally open my mouth and say, "I don't know. I guess I do, but, it's like, I don't want to pretend I'm something I'm not just to follow something that I can't even be sure is real. I mean, the way I look at it, if God was real, then why would he make me who I am but then turn around and tell me it's wrong?"

"So... you didn't choose to be gay?" he asks, and he honestly looks really confused by this.

I laugh, and shake my head. "No, definitely not. Trust me, there were many times in my life that I just wished I was straight."

"Oh," he says quietly, and stares down at the table. We don't speak until the pizza comes five minutes later.

By then, my stomach's growling so loud people across the noisy restaurant can probably hear, and I pick up a piece and practically shove it all down my throat in one try. Ryan, on the other hand, kind of just picks at it, taking small, almost unsure bites every few seconds.

"Do you not like it?"

Ryan looks up at me, blushing, like he didn't realize I had been watching. "Oh... no, it's good. I just... I don't like mushrooms very much." he says meekly.

"You should have told me!" I cry. "Then I could have just gotten my own pizza."

"Oh, no. No, it's okay!" he says immediately, waving his hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind. It's okay. I'm fine picking them off."

And this is when I realize, that sure, maybe he is this perfect saint that makes me feel like the devil in comparison or something, but maybe, just maybe, he's not as bad as I thought.

----

The next day at lunch when I tell Jon I hung out with Ryan twice during the weekend, he looks at me - once again - like I've grown a second head and goes, "Who are you?!"

"He's not that bad." I reply, shrugging, like it's no big deal and I have no idea why he'd have this sort of reaction, even though I know it totally is a big deal. "He's pretty cool actually."

"I never said there was anything wrong with him," he says. "I believe it was you who had a problem with him just a few short days ago."

"Well... I changed my mind, I guess."

He doesn't say anything more after that but he still looks at me weirdly for the rest of the lunch, while I try not to sit and stare at Ryan the whole time.

As the week ends, and the next week after does too, Jon still looks at me like I've grown a second head every time I mention Ryan and how 'we did this', and how 'Ryan said that'. Which, okay, so maybe that's pretty much all the time, because after these couple of weeks of hanging out with him, like, everyday, I've began to develop a tiny-winy, little crush on the guy, and really, he's all I want to talk about (and he's really all I think about). And okay, so maybe I've also blown off Ethan a few times to hang out with him... but still, it's just a small, little crush.

Of course, my mother is nothing less than ecstatic about this. The friendship that is, not the crush. She'd kill me (slowly and painfully) if she ever found out about that. 'Cause you just don't have a boy-crush on the Pastor's son, it just isn't right.

Now, it's Tuesday at lunch, three weeks later, and Jon and I are sitting at our usual cafeteria spot, all by ourselves, when I tell him Ryan's going to be eating lunch with us tomorrow. He sends me another weird look while shoving a greasy fry into his mouth, and mumbles, "Whatever, dude." because it's not like it'd matter if he said no, and he knows it.

So, the next day when Ryan comes strolling up to our table, hideous, bright orange tray in his hands, my stomach does a few flips. Because, gah, sososososo gorgeous. Then, I see Spencer standing behind him and my stomach drops, and I scowl a little.

"Hey," Ryan beams, his cute, little adorable smile that I now love dearly, and want to like, bottle up and keep forever, and I forget all about Spencer for a moment.

"Hey," I say back, and I'm just a big pile of mush inside.

Then I remember Jon, and I tear my eyes off of Ryan to see him glaring at me, like, 'how could you do this to me?!' He's so white I'm actually scared he's going to pass out right here in the middle of the cafeteria.

Ryan takes a seat beside me, and Spencer has no choice but to take a seat beside Jon, who makes some sort of a weird, choking noise and now I'm really sure he's going to fall off his chair and die.

But, hey, seriously, it's not my fault. It's not like I knew Spencer would be joining Ryan. Really.

"This is Spence," Ryan says, nodding towards him like we actually didn't know who he was. Ha, good one.

Jon makes another noise again, and Ryan sends him a concerned look, and he looks like he's about to ask if he's feeling okay, but he doesn't.

"Um, this is Jon," I say, quickly. "He's not feeling all that well... I told him not to get the egg salad but he just didn't want to listen to me."

Ryan sends him another sympathetic look while Spencer just looks away, nibbling at his sandwich. "Oh, yeah, it's terrible. You just can't trust the food here, it's like, they try to poison us or something. That's why I bring my own food."

Oh, he's gorgeous and smart! I love him.

Jon does this little nod, and stares down at his food.

I look at Ryan, and go, "So, how was your day so far?"

He smiles his smile that practically lights up the whole room and says, "Pretty good, actually. What about you?"

"Good," I reply, then without thinking I just blurt out, "I'm glad you're eating lunch with me today."

Spencer makes this kind of snorting noise, and I swear, he gives Ryan this look that says, I told you so, and then goes back to eating his sandwich. I blush, and glare at him, and oooh, my hate for you burns Spencer Smith! Just you wait!

Ryan still smiles regardless, and says, "Me too."

Spencer shifts in his chair so someone can pass by, and he must have brushed past Jon or something, because he makes another squeaking noise and practically jumps in his chair, his face going a weird mix of bright red, puke green and pale, pale white.

Spencer finally looks at him, eyebrows wrinkled together. "Dude, are you okay? Do you need to go to the nurse or something?"

Jon's eyes immediately go wide, because Spencer Smith is talking to him, and I'm pretty sure he'd never thought that'd happen in his whole entire life. And, in one way I really want to just burst out laughing at him, but at the same time, I kind of just want to cry for him 'cause he just looks so helpless and embarrassed and just ohmygod. "I-I'm fine," he squeaks.

Spencer gives him a weird look, but goes back to his sandwich anyways.

There's a few minutes of awkward silence between us all, and Spencer finally breaks it by sliding out of his chair and going, "This has been fun and all, but I've got to go to my locker and do some stuff before class starts." He stares at Ryan, waiting for him to get up and join him, but Ryan avoids his gaze and stays seated.

Oh, I love him even more!

I kick Jon in the shin under the table, and shoot him a look that says, you better go with him, you idiot.

He stares back at me with wide eyes, and I just stare back at him.

"Uh, yeah, I'll um, I'll come with - you, cause I uh, I need to go um, talk to Mr. um, I mean, Ms. Wake." Jon stumbles out, getting out of his chair to follow Spencer.

Spencer gives him a weird, almost confused look, like he's trying to figure out if he's mentally challenged or what. I cover my face because I'm embarrassed for him; I've never seen him like this before, ever. Not even over Taylor Orchard, who he was like, obsessed with last year. He's always so calm, and charming, and just not like this at all.

"Um, okay," Spencer says slowly, and I know he's totally wondering how Jon knows his locker is right beside Ms. Wake's room. I only know this because I've had Jon point it out many times when we were on our way out of English.

Then, as if he couldn't embarrass himself anymore, he trips on the chair Spencer just got out of and practically falls flat on his face. I cover my face more, and now I really, really feel bad for him. I kind of want to get up and give him a big hug, that's how bad.

When they're finally gone, Ryan says, nice and slow, "Okay then..."

"Yeah, don't ask." I mumble between my fingers, and I can't help but let out a little nervous chuckle.

"Wasn't going to." He laughs back, and takes a sip of his orange juice.

There's a short pause as I nibble on my own sandwich. "So... where's your girlfriend?" I ask.

He looks at me, a little startled that I'd even ask about her. Which, I even am, because in these past few weeks we've been hanging out, we haven't brought her up once. "Oh, uh, she's with her friends." he mumbles, and looks down, fingers fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Oh, okay..."

"Yeah."

Enter long, awkward silence.

When the warning bell rings five minutes later, Ryan's the first to get up, gathering up his trash and finally says, "Do you want to come over tonight?"

I do a little cheer inside. "Oh, yeah, sure."

He smiles. "Okay, cool. See you later." He gives me this little pat/nudge thing on my arm before heading off through the cafeteria.

I sit there by myself for awhile longer, just smiling to myself. Then, the bell rings, and I'm late.