Almost lifelessly, I moved into one of the guest rooms in the basement of Ryan’s house. Ryan’s younger sisters welcomed me after about a week of living there; Ryan’s older brother, Will, could’ve given less of a shit about me, and vocally told me several times in private. I broke the news to Alyssa that my dad and her mom had lost us completely, but she already knew. When I told her that she needed to go back, she promptly refused, saying that I needed her support.

Which was true. Though I wouldn’t of minded if she had gone home.

After the first day, it became clearly evident what lengths Ryan went through to make sure I had a roof over my head, that I wasn’t a burden, and that he wouldn’t leave me alone like he promised. There was one night that I remember where Ryan’s family had departed to see a movie. He got into a fight with his parents earlier to stay behind with me, which they eventually allowed for him to do.

I don’t remember what movie we ended up watching – some terrible parody film that received universally negative reviews that we had mocked – but he put his arm around me. It was made even more awkward because Ryan tried to be nonchalant with it. But I was tired, and allowed it to stay. It was almost comforting. Though I don’t think he liked me all that much when I began drooling on his arm.

Nevertheless, Ryan was unashamedly supportive of me, no matter what the decision was. He was there for me when Alyssa wasn’t; the energy he put into reminding me how much he liked me was almost baffling, but was also kind of sweet.

Evening walks with him became a weekly thing rather than a daily occurrence. With the changed context, the walks felt different. Ryan shed his winter coat and hat for more weather-appropriate clothes, and changed the path he walked through town.

But then there was school, which was still horrible. Now and then, Ryan would approach in the hallways and talk to me, but I could see people’s eyes when that happened. It must’ve been like magic or something, because everyone suddenly asked me about how I knew him.

The kids in the technical theater department were still really curious about me. It bordered on harassment, and then Ryan told them to stop.

It raised questions about his circumstances, like if Ryan was out to his friends or not. Or did it just seem weird that he was now talking to the quiet, closeted gay kid? On an extremely broad level, it could’ve made sense if someone overlooked several of the details, but it just felt so flawed the closer you looked at it.

Along with that, rumors started going around that my life was falling apart. Which I never addressed until graduation. But it still sucked.

But one night, we were working on homework in the guest room I occupied. Ryan knew what he was doing; meanwhile, I was a hopeless mess when it came to algebraic equations.

“Okay, are you going to tell me what’s wrong or should I play the guessing game?” he asked suddenly, leaning back from his seated position on the floor.

I didn’t bother dancing around what it was. Besides, both of us didn’t like it either. I traced the bed sheet’s creases with my fingers. “Are you…out to your friends?”

“No, why?”

I sighed. “Then, I don’t think you should talk to me at school anymore.” Before Ryan spoke, I followed up with, “You might not realize it, but you’re breaking the school’s hierarchy code.” By that point, the school’s code was in the beginning stages of crumbling because of the anti-bullying policy, but it would take another year for it to disappear completely.

“Fuck the code.”

“Well, it’s easier for you to say. You have one more year of high school left before you go off to college. I still have two.”

“Adrian, what are you worrying about?” he asked, sitting down next to me on the bed.

“It’s just…” I trailed off. “Do people even know that you like me? That I was kicked out of my house and now I’m living in your basement? That we can be chummy together?”

Ryan shrugged nonchalantly. “Do you want me to answer those questions? Because its two ‘no’s and a ‘yes’.”

I sighed loudly through my nose; he wasn’t getting what I was asking. “I just think your friends should know. I also just don’t want to hide in the basement anymore when your friends come over.” It had happened twice already. Ryan began to speak, maybe to justify his actions, but I put my hand up, feeling like I had stepped over the line. I sighed again and finished, “I shouldn’t even be complaining. I’m sorry. You’ve been so nice to me, letting me stay here and all.”

Ryan’s body sagged momentarily before he ran his fingers through his hair. “I really just don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to, then.” I looked away, feeling slightly ashamed. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to pry.”

He took my cheek and led my eyes back to his. Ryan dropped his hand quickly and said, “Honestly, stop apologizing. You haven’t offended me unless I say so.” I quickly nodded and he continued, “But, I mean, you’re right. I’ve been putting it off for a while, and it would be easier to just tell my friends so they know, right?”

I nodded. “Ryan, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

Ryan smiled softly, and ran his hand over his face. “Oh my God, you’re too sweet,” he told me earnestly. The statement made me simultaneously grin and frown. “I should do it. I mean, I’ve just been putting it off because…it’s coming out. It would just be easier to get it out of the way.”

I nodded. “I’ll, back you 100%, okay?” I told him, encouragingly.

Ryan smiled warmly. “Thank you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his hand inch towards mine before I pulled it away.

Hands folding into my lap, I shyly smiled before turning back to my homework. “Sorry, I need to finish this for tomorrow.”

He nodded, slid off my bed, and began working again. I was somewhat surprised that Ryan had agreed so willingly, but I went back to work, too, occasionally glancing over at him, watching him work quietly, and not helping myself in thinking that I was in pretty good hands.

It was in my precalc class, fifth period. I was sitting and listening to Mr. Bernard talk and shout at his students, a deadly combination to kids either waiting for lunch or slipping into an after-lunch food coma. We were arranged in rows, with me being in the front, but I was so bored that I could have fallen asleep. Nothing in that class was interesting to me. It was work alone to stay awake.

Then my phone buzzed. Pulling it out of my pocket as subtly as I could, I notice Ryan’s name flash across the screen. He had given me his number the day after I moved into his basement, and texted me quite often. Though the three words that were written beneath his name made me nervous.

doing it now

He said he would do it tomorrow. We agreed that he would do it tomorrow, because then it was Friday and then the weekend and we could field any negative backlash that his coming out could produce. So, naturally, I felt nauseous from the nerves I had in my stomach. I quickly asked to be excused, and ran to the other side of the school to watch the possible train wreck.

The oldest portions of my high school date to around 1911, so everything built around it had to flow “seamlessly” together; the school built little ramps and extra stairs. From the second floor, there’s a sad staircase that descends into the main cafeteria – a two story space with tan subway wall tiles, skylights that obstructed the light by numerous pillars and dirty glass, flags from every country strung across the ceiling, and a small one-story café attached to the side – that’s barely ever used except by the staff.

But I got in because the door to it is never locked. I frantically texted him a:

WHY????

which got no response. So I hid in a small, dark corner at the top of the stairs by the door, which allowed me to look over everything.

Ryan sat at one of the lunch tables off on the far edge of the room, his friends gathered around him and partially obstructed by a pillar. I watched him mouth words, which elicited no response. He became more animated, which also elicited no response. Then he got up on the bench and pulled out a piece of paper while smiling broadly.

He had a goddamn speech??

“Excuse me, everyone?” No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. “Can, can I have your attention, please?” No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Oh dear Lord, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. “So, just getting things out of the way, I like guys. Yep, so…sorry to all the girls who liked me. And I like Adrian Murphy…the, quiet closeted kid. Well, not really closeted anymore, so, uh – ” By that point, he was approached by one of the security guards who apparently told him to sit down.

The reaction was that of indifference. Literally, no one cared. Sure, there were a few homophobic remarks tossed around, but that was about it. It was almost as if Ryan had never spoken.

He locked eyes with me as he sat down and smiled wearily. I left and returned to class. When I got back, half the class had their phones out while an oblivious Mr. Bernard still spoke. He welcomed me back from the bathroom and asked me to sit down; the rest of class watched me do it.

There were whispers. Giggles exchanged. The occasional “shut up, he’s right there” passed around. I just sank into my seat and waited for when I could smack Ryan.

It was two periods later when he sat down next to me in the hallway. I was reading. “So,” he asked, “how did I do?”

I slammed the opened book down; in the empty hallway, the sound echoed. “You know, if I wanted to be humiliated in front of a third of the school, I would’ve done that.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry. It just felt like the right time to do it.”

A pair of students walked passed, giggling and watching us. “I thought you were just going to say it to your friends.” Would’ve been easier for all.

“I just wanted to get it out of the way. I got cocky and confident, and I thought you would’ve survived better if rumors weren’t going around about you and me.”

“Why didn’t you just go to the principal’s office and say ‘Hey! I like guys and R – Adrian Murphy. Okay, bye.’ At least then the whole student body would know.” I closed the book and pushed it to the side. “What was on that paper?”

“Talking points,” he admitted. “It went ‘A) I’m gay, B) Sorry, ladies, C) Adrian Murphy is rad as hell, and D) I really like him.’” I raised my eyebrows; there was no way in hell that Ryan Anders needed a paper to remind him of that. And then Ryan handed me the paper, which basically said just that.

I scoffed openly and handed him the paper back. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you needed a paper to remind you.”

Ryan nodded. “I didn’t want to chicken out. Or get stage fright.”

Another pair of students passed, their gazes trying to be inconspicuous. Three seconds later, another group of students observed us openly, their tone loud and mocking. I sighed in disgust as they disappeared into the depths of the school. “Well, besides how everyone’s going to react in the long run, you’re out to the school.” I looked at him. “How do you feel?”

“The same, just like on birthdays when people ask how it feels to be older. Though I’m not necessarily thrilled with the lackluster response. I was kinda hoping for, like, the worst, or the best. Not that.”

I softly smiled, now looking at my feet. “Well, at least now you can freely do, well, anything. Well, almost freely do anything.”

“Well…when you put it like that, I kinda want to date you.” I looked at him and Ryan smiled like he had accidentally said something touchy. His smile faded slowly into a slight frown. “Sorry, I shouldn’t of said anything.”

I frowned as well. “No, you’re okay. Hell, you’ve told me you like me constantly for weeks. Frankly, I was kind of, waiting for when you would say you wanted to date me.”

Ryan smiled. “If you were waiting for that, do you want to go out with me?” I turned to him and glanced, unimpressed. “Too soon?” he asked. He looked away and began fiddling with his fingers. I watched his green eyes that are specked with brown glance from me to his fingers over and over for about a minute. Ryan was talking, but I wasn’t really listening.

Suddenly, he was so endearing. When did that happen?