Recess

Brendon would just simply laugh whenever Ryan got a time-out for throwing spitballs at their third-grade teacher. It was funny how she never seemed to suspect that it was Brendon who was throwing the spitballs. What made it even funnier was that he was forced to wear the dunce hat while missing recess. Brendon would always peer into the classroom’s window during recess. He would see Ryan slouched in a chair in a corner with a pen scratching away at a piece of paper. He would never once look up anywhere but at his paper. When the teacher would catch Brendon staring she’d take away Ryan’s recess for tomorrow too but Ryan never seemed to care. He was never one for running around.

*

One day in fifth grade Brendon invited Ryan to go trick-or-treating with him. Ryan was new to the idea of accepting candy from strangers but with hesitation he agreed. He wasn’t expecting to get left at a mansion, the police bagged on him for a house and yard flooded with yolks. He never had even thrown a ball before in his life, how could anyone have expected that it was him who egged the house? Then again, logic set in and he was the only one present at the scene of the crime. Ryan didn’t talk to Brendon for three years, then again he never talked much in the first place, just seemed to write. They had every single class together. Some things were possible.

*

In High School, things weren’t much different. Brendon never understood why anyone would hold a grudge for so long. He needed to speak with Ryan, he just needed to.

On a bright December day, Brendon took off all the Christmas lights from the houses that were on Ryan’s street. Ryan was punished with a warning from the police as his house was the only one left with simple white lights immersed with tree branches. He didn’t seem to care much as he went to his room and furiously banged on the keys of his laptop. Brendon sighed as he slyly watched him through binoculars while standing on a friend’s balcony. He had to do something.

*

Senior year came; Ryan kept up his quiet façade for over six years. Brendon was silently crying as he pulled up to the school parking lot. He noticed someone out of the corner of his eyes and an idea popped into his head. When this person left he rammed his bumper, but not so much that the damage was too costly. More like just enough to get noticed. He parked next to the car, wondering if the person would take the hint.

The next day the person came on the bus. Ryan actually rode the bus. His face was overcrowded with cover-up; it didn’t suit him so well. It didn’t cover anything up. Then Brendon knew. He knew why he wrote all the time. He knew why he was quiet. More than anything, he realized that he’d been putting Ryan through hell.

During lunch, when Ryan sat alone under the oak trees, Brendon followed. He noticed Ryan had a black leather book clutched tightly to his chest. He hid behind the oak tree before sitting down next to Ryan. Ryan didn’t look up at him before he spoke.

“What do you want?”

“What do you mean?” Brendon inquired in response.

“I think you know.”

“I want your attention.”

“Why?”

“Because you never paid attention to me.”

“I don’t pay attention to a lot of things.”

“Yes, you do.” Brendon pointed to Ryan’s notebook.

“So if I acknowledge your presence, you’ll leave me alone.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”  This time Ryan turned his head around and his hair slightly fell over his auburn-honey glazed eyes. The stare was intense, and Brendon could see years worth of desperation, loneliness, and pain screaming at him through Ryan’s eyes. He tilted his head slightly and whispered to Ryan.

“I’m not saying anything.”  He meshed his lips with Ryan’s, letting their tongues dance. Ryan didn’t pull away. He felt needed, and the hand that was tangled in his hair certainly helped calm him. They were both desperate for air, but neither broke apart from one another.

Suddenly, all the detentions were worth it. The yolks accented the mansion’s yellow daffodils. A house was much prettier if it was the only lit up one on the street. And a car with a smashed bumper was more unique than one that was whole.

That’s what their lips did. They crashed. No body saw it, but after years and years they all knew it.

Brendon was glad that he never second-guessed his actions. Ryan was glad that he did.

Recess couldn’t have been more fun.