As They Say - (Revised) - 7. Entry 11 & 12

6th May 1991: Part 2

Okay, so the day got worse as it went on. I should have gone next door to check on Ross. The reason I knew he was home is that when I went out to put my bike in the garage, he must have left the bike I had given him beside mine. Why didn't Ross knock when he got back? I know I didn't leave him in the best of positions, but I was offended and embarrassed. I needed to get out of there. I didn't exactly show enthusiasm or thoughtfulness when I abandoned him in town.

After I came home, I did nothing but listen to R.E.M. until the sun started to slowly set. I guess I still have time to knock for Ross but do I feel up to it? Does he even want to be around a person like me? What if everything Johnathan said had taken a toll on Ross?

Maybe Ross is second-guessing being friends with me. Perhaps I am a terrible friend.

I should just go next door and apologize for earlier to Ross.

But what happens if he doesn't talk to me?

Sigh.

Okay, Adam, you have to get up and go next door. I wish it was as easy as it sounds, but the truth, it isn't. There is something different about Ross. Well, I mean, since he arrived, I have changed or something. Normally, I'm okay with my friends who spark my interest, but I feel different since Ross arrived. I'm treading on a thin wire. I want to make an impression, a good one, that is lasting but not a ridiculous or bad impression that would scar me for the rest of my life.

I think I like him. This is so awkward. Ross is definitely straight. Even if he isn't, why would he even hold hands with someone like me? I should just do the right thing— say sorry. Just to be there for him as a friend even. I know my mind has other thoughts, but I feel like this is the best thing to do at the moment. Maybe I should bring my new album with me so I can break the ice with Ross.

Anyway, later,

Adam

(Just breathe… It's no big deal.)

***

7th May 1991:

Okay, last night for dinner, I had turkey, and it got me thinking about Thanksgiving in America. Somewhere along the line, turkeys got screwed; that's just how I feel right now.

When I knocked last night for Ross, his grandmother said that he was out, which came as a surprise to both of us. I wasn't expecting him to go wandering around these parts without any knowledge of the area. I did go looking for him, of course. I spent about forty-five minutes scouring the local lands for Ross.

I even checked the tree hill, where the terrain scrunched up and left a small slanted hill in the middle of the O'Neills’ field. I think half of the fun is getting out there; on any given day, the farmer, Mr. O’ Neill, will have a bull on the loose in the field. Yes, I have had to run through that field more than once in a terrified state. Every time I did it, all I could come to think about was how long would it be before a raging bull would catch up to me and gorge me to death, stampeding over me like a steam train while I'd be lying with my face down in the mud.

My overactive imagination soars wildly with all the possibilities of dying with a mad bull on the loose.

Carl and I have done it a few times, as well as Eli. The view is worth it, though, since all the land around here is flat. From O'Neills’ hill, you can see the town from a bird's eye view. Picturesque is just one word to sum up the magical feeling this spot offers up. I don't precisely know why I decided to walk by the O'Neills’ farm, but I’m happy that I did. When I looked off into the distance, I noticed the hill, atop the grassy slope, was a small figure sitting on the incline. I didn't really think much of it; I just crossed the threshold into the field while scanning for any hints of a bull.

While I sauntered towards the hill, I kept peering around anxiously, thinking, should I be running or should I be walking? Should I even be here at all? What if this figure wasn't Ross? These thoughts echoed in the back of my mind, and by the time I reached the slope of the unkempt hill, I gazed up to see the person. Sure enough, Ross was sitting alone, playing with fine strands of grass in between his legs. I had not seen a bull so far, so that was always a good sign.

I slowly crept up the hillside towards Ross. I wanted to see if he was okay; I also didn't want to scare him. He looked a little down or something. I couldn't tell if he was crying, but when I finally got to the top of the hill, Ross looked up surprised and flinched. Ross wobbly got up, mistaking me for someone else; he apologized. When he noticed it was me, he backed down.

"Oh, sorry, Adam," Ross offered before lowering back down to the ground.

I wasn't sure if he was mad at me. He looked like he had been crying. Surely, I did not make him cry. I sure hope that someone else didn't make him cry either. I decided to plonk down beside him in a messy attempt. I came down harder than imagined; that's when pain shot up my lower back from the harsh shudder of contacting the solid ground. I groaned in discomfort, just a grimace of pain, and Ross immediately pushed his feelings to the side and rolled out in front of me on one knee.

"Are you okay?” Ross asked in a worried voice.

Giving a small smile, I nodded. The sharp sting was bearable, yet Ross's panicked response to my rescue made me feel all gooey inside. He just sighed in a cute way after I told him that I was okay, and he sat back in his place beside me. The view was not as nice as some evenings; some clouds on the horizon suggested rain.

(It panned out to be true because while I'm writing right now, the heavens are releasing their bowels over Ireland.)

Anyway, Ross remained quiet until I finally spoke up. I was nervous about approaching the subject from earlier, but I had to find out what he was thinking.

Was Ross disappointed with me? Did he think I am a bully?

It did hurt that Ross had just left the bike I gave him right beside mine back at the house. He could have knocked for me, surely. Did Eli screw up my chance of making a new friend? I wish that Johnathan guy hadn't turned up. It would have made everything easier. Everything was going well until he reared his ugly mug. Okay, that was harsh. Still, I was trying to be cool, and he fucked that up for me.

Officially, I think the f-word is the first swear word I have ever written in here. Mam doesn't like me to use foul language. Besides, it's in this book, so does that really count? It's only the little voice inside my head that said it. Theoretically speaking, I have said nothing of the sort. Do I make sense? Well, it does to me.

I just swallowed my pride and waited for the striking blow. I asked Ross, “Are you mad at me?"

I'll tell you this, I was so… so… so happy when he looked at me with a soft expression and promptly answered, "No… why would I be?"

Okay, so maybe his response was not exactly what I wished for. I would have liked him to say something more about what was truly on his mind. Yet, I guess it is better than nothing at all. Ross wasn't angry at me. Though something was truly on his mind, he was very secretive and very protective of this information. I just sat with him for a while, then he noticed a bulge in my hoodie pocket and jokingly said, "Is that your boner?"

I looked down at the small lump in the hoodie pocket and shot back a snarky response. “You wish!” I said.

Ross just chuckled in a really adorable way.

I could not help it; it was virtually impossible to not join in with a stupid, hearty giggle.

At some point, Ross had stopped laughing. However, I didn't; I kept giggling unknowns to myself. When I finally calmed, I noticed that he had stopped laughing, so I forced myself to stop. I could feel my cheeks burning; I was so happy there and then. What followed next caught me off guard. I have no idea what to even make of the statement, let alone think of what to say back to it as a response.

Ross waited until a silence presented itself and said, "What a magical laugh you have."

I wasn't sure if he was genuine initially, but he did appear to be sincere. I offered a nervous chuckle of shyness and gave thanks back in the form of, "So is yours."

I'm not sure what he meant by that, but he did become a little flushed in the cheeks after saying it. We mostly spent the rest of the evening conversing.

There were no odd exchanges of conversation, and I finally worked out what Ross was sad about. He had received news from London that his mam and dad were having a hard time in England with finances, or so he said. There was talk of them emigrating to Ireland in order to make a living. So, I guess this is what Ross was sad about all along, and it wasn't me. Possibly, Ross was here because things weren't good at home.

I tried to comfort him in any way I could. We remained until the sun went down, until we finally ran down the hill, both chasing each other. At one point, I thought I was going to fall, but that didn't happen, so thank God. Or whoever. I'm not sure if I believe in God. How can you believe in something you can't see? I don't know why I used that reference. I guess it's etched into my list of viable options for dialogue when I have nothing better to offer up for that particular acknowledgement.

Oh, and I only realized that the bulge in my hoodie pocket was the R.E.M cd when I got home. Ahaha. I had intended to listen to it with Ross. Anyway, I think today has really drained me mentally. Any energy I have left I have put into writing this page. I have to write it. Is that weird? A couple of years ago, when I started writing, I found it hard to keep a consistency going. However, this time around, it’s almost like it has become second nature.

As for today, nothing really happened. I went to visit my granny for the day, and when I came back, it was too late to really meet up with Ross.

On the plus side, I came home with money. I love that about my granny. Every time I visit, I leave with cash. Grandparents are awesome. Even though I would have preferred to be hanging around Ross today, the day ended satisfactorily for me. I will get up early tomorrow and knock for him. I missed not having him around today; that's odd, even I'll admit that.

Anyway, night,

From a really tired - Adam