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    Comicality
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Secret Life of Billy Chase 4 - 5. Chapter 5

Friday - You know what's worse than having to waste an entire day in school doing practically nothing? Having to stay there even LONGER in some stuffy detention hall. That's what.

I think that this is gonna be the longest week in history. The only thing that makes it even bearable is the fact that Trace is there, sketching some graffiti in his notebook, and occasionally looking up to make faces at me. It didn't save me from detention, but it was entertaining enough to keep me from wanting to bash my own head in with a hammer. So I guess I should consider myself lucky.

Bobby sits on the other side of the room, and he doesn't even look at me anymore. I really have this compelling urge to tell him how sorry I am for treating him like shit. Not just jumping on him in the locker room...but for the whole stupid fiasco, from the very first day we had sex. I know that I was mad, and I still am somewhat...but...if Bobby feels about me anywhere CLOSE to how I feel about not being able to have Brandon in my life anymore...then I owe him some peace of mind. If nothing else, I can at least give him the opportunity to spit in my face and say that he doesn't want to have anything else to do with me. I didn't have the courage today. Plus Trace was around to chit chat for a minute or two after detention let out, and Bobby had already squeezed his way past me and out of the door by then. Maybe I'll talk to him on Monday. I hate to leave things like this over the weekend...but it's not like I can call him. My mom's not gonna budge an inch on my punishment this time.

It'll be ok on Monday. We'll talk. And maybe we can stop hating each other long enough to at least show up to gym class together without wanting to shank each other with a sharp chunk of metal.

There was one truly confusing moment today...when I saw Brandon coming out of the library during a passing period, and actually had our eyes 'connect' for the first time since he dumped me. I mean, he usually just turns his head completely away from me in the other direction. Or he snubs me completely with a role of his eyes, like he's just disgusted by the very sight of me. But today...it was different. More hurt than angry. More sad than dismissive. And while that's not really much better...it gave me a little bit of hope towards the idea that he was suffering too. And that maybe we could just stop the agony and try to work things out between us.

But when I went to talk to him...I was obviously wrong.

I mean, it really took a lot of courage to go over there and talk to him I was shaking so bad that I thought I was gonna be sick from it. But...just seeing him there, his big pretty eyes looking in my direction...I HAD to try to say something to him. Or...or just...bask in the warmth of his presence again, if only for a few seconds. I missed the scent of him on his shirts, and the soft little tilt of his smile...and the feel of my fingertips running through his hair. I miss him shrugging his shoulders in that really cute way when he was being shy, and the sound of his sweet giggles over the phone. And GOD I missed the way he used to kiss me on the lips. I always felt like I was in a total freefall whenever he kissed me, holding onto his broad shoulders for support as the taste of him filled me up inside. His embrace was so intoxicating. I can't believe that I went a whole five days without it.

So...I went over to him, and he asked me, "What do you want?"

I didn't know how much time I had before he turned his back on me, so I just came out with it. I said, "I miss you."

He wrinkled up his forehead for a second, almost as if to sneer at me. He's like, "You've got a hell of a lot of nerve, you know that?"

I'm like, "I know. And you have NO reason to want to talk to me right now. But..it's true. I really miss you, Brandon. Every second of the day feels like such a...waste without you. I just wish you could look past what I did long enough to talk to me."

But he's all, "'Look PAST' what you did? How the fuck am I supposed to just 'look past' what you did to me, Billy?" It seemed like the anger was coming back, and I started to think that going over there was a big mistake. He said, "How dare you walk over to me and think that you can just put on a sad clown face and expect me to brush this whole thing off of my shoulder like it didn't matter."

I told him, "I'm not saying that it didn't matter. I'm just trying to give you my side of what happened."

But he's like, "How many times, Billy? How many times did you and Bobby 'do it' behind my back?" The way he was looking at me...I wanted to cry. I could feel my insides shriveling up to nothing. I never thought that Brandon would ever look at me like that.

I looked down at my feet, and I said, "I don't know. I can't remember, because I didn't feel anything for Bobby..."

And he's like, "You felt SOMETHING, Billy!" And had to look around at the other people in the hallway because he started to raise his voice. So he lowered it again, and he told me, "You know what? It doesn't even matter. I don't care. One time is more than enough to let me know that I need to stay the hell away from you from now on."

I was almost ready to BEG him right there in the hallway! And I'm like, "PLEASE don't say that! Brandon, this is all just some fucked up 'mishap'! Why don't we just get together this weekend and try to talk about it?"

He says, "I don't WANT to talk to you about it. We're done. Plain and simple. There's no way I'm gonna give you the chance to hurt me again, are you sick in the head?"

I'm like, "I'm NOT trying to HURT you, Brandon...I just wanna talk to you. Ok? Please? I really have been so empty inside, you have no idea, I just...I need you Ok? I'll say it. I'll say it as many times as you need me to say it. I need you. I NEED you!" He backed away from me, but I could see the hurt in his eyes. And I thought that if I could just 'touch' that one emotional string, then maybe he'd listen to me. Maybe he'd give me a chance to show him that I'm worthy of some kind of temporary forgiveness until I could tell him why I did what I did.

But he just told me to stay away from him. He said, "I don't need you anymore, Billy. I did once...but I don't anymore. So you can save your apologies for the next person you totally fuck over. Maybe he'll give a shit." And then you know what he said to me? He said, "And I heard about your little 'fight' in the gym yesterday. You're wasting your time blaming Bobby for your problems. Because HE'S not the one who betrayed me. YOU did." And he left me. Brandon walked away from me and he honestly didn't want me to follow him. This wasn't some hurtful reaction any more...he...he really didn't want me around. He really wanted us to be....'over'.

That's been the prevailing thought of the evening tonight. From the second that he walked away from me, to the second that I picked up this notebook to write in this new entry...every part of me has been dying inside. Turning to dust. I can honestly say that my heartbeat no longer serves any purpose at all other than working to maintain my survival. Effectively prolonging my miserable existence without the one thing in life that truly made me happy. Why survive? What do I have to look forward to...other than more pain?

Sam did come by today to see if he could talk to me, and my mom sent him away. Telling him that I was still on punishment, and that we could hang out next Thursday when it was over. I could hear him trying to 'reason' his way in, but my mom isn't anywhere near as forgiving as his mom is when it comes to this kind of thing. Just as well though. I doubt he'd be able to cheer me up anyway.

My mom only cut me some slack to talk to my father on the phone when he called. And that was just because she wanted him to get an equal opportunity to chew me out for getting into trouble. He was all like, "Dammit, Billy...what have I told you about fighting in school?" and "You're supposed to be the man of the house right now, and this is how you act?" and the ever popular, "I'm so disappointed in you." I really couldn't do anything other than apologize and promise to be a better 'person', or whatever. It's not like I had any real defense for myself. He said, "You listen to your mother, and you do EVERY little thing she tells you, young man. You hear me? I don't care what it is. You make that whole house sparkle! Wash the car, cut the lawn, take out the trash...and I'm going to let her know that if she runs out of stuff for you to do there, I'm pretty sure that I can find some chores over here to keep you busy. Maybe if we put you to work for a while, you'll be too tired to pick fights with your classmates." Great. There's no better way to bring parents together than to have them double team you in punishment. Maybe I should try setting a random fire, or shoplifting at the mall. Maybe I can fix their whole marriage.

Anyway, that's it for today. It's not much, but I don't really have a whole lot of 'adventures' to go on when I can't talk to my friends.

I really shouldn't have started that fight with Bobby Jinette. Because...just sitting here in silence...I've got nothing to do but thing about how bad things are right now. I've got nothing to do but think about...'him'. And how much I wish I could just have him back. Just for a little while.

Whatever. Fuck this. I'm done writing in this stupid book. Bye.

-Billy

Copyright © 2010 Comicality; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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