Chapter 13

Derek

You know, all I wanted was a normal life. Be a normal son, have normal parents, live a normal life. Well, that was pretty much what happened, until Ryder Dela Cruz came and ruined it all.

Actually, I'm also at fault.

Okay, fine. It's all my fault.

*

I had to change schools before grade 9 started because my dad's job suddenly changed location and it is miles away from our old house and my old school too. So, the only solution was to live nearer to my dad's job and make me change schools.

The first day of school was boring, as all first days go. I was kind of a loner at first. There weren't many people who talked to me, and I didn't bother making friends. Then I saw him.

Even as a ninth-grader, he's fucking gorgeous. Shit, man. If I wasn't questioning my sexuality that time, I would still be now, because Ryder sure is hot. Tall, lean, with rich tanned skin and gorgeous turquoise eyes. I melted immediately on the spot when I saw him.

Call me cheesy, but it was love at first sight.

The next logical thing I thought of to do was to get closer to him, of course. So, a few periods later, I mustered up the courage to go talk to him before class started. (We were in the same form class that time.)

"Hey," he said, closing his locker.

Damn. His voice. Deep and sweet like honey.

" ’Sup," I replied, trying to act cool and collected but inside I was a nervous wreck.

"You're the new kid, right?"

"Yeah, you?" I cringed inside at what I said. Such a pretentious ass.

He smirked at that. Hot damn. "I'm Ryder."

"Derek."

"So I've heard," he said. "Come, I'll introduce you to the guys."

He brought me to his table at the back of the classroom. A few guys sat around his table, talking. Their heads perked up at my appearance and they waved at me. Ryder introduced everyone to me: Nick, with rich cinnamon skin and dark wavy hair; Sinclair, the one with red eyes (I thought they were contacts); Ethan, the blonde with brown eyes, and Poe, pale-skinned with crazy red hair. Honestly, they were all good-looking (Nick was the cutest) but my heart already belonged to Ryder. Soon, I joined them in their conversation and laughed at their jokes.

All this while, I kept glancing at Ryder. I liked how his hair fell over his face or the way he laughed made me feel so mushy inside. He's so gorgeous, and I couldn't stop thinking about him.

*

Soon, we became closer.

We talked a lot, mostly about stupid things that made us crack up, but other times we talked about deep stuff. We told each other about everything - things we wouldn’t normally tell other people about; things about our parents. We were there for each other when one of us was sad, or just needed someone to listen.

I went over to his place a couple of times after school, just to watch TV and do homework. We even went out together a lot - just to do dumb shit like trying on ridiculous clothes at H&M or scaring birds away at the park or even ordering 6 boxes of nuggets at McDonald’s at one point (I puked afterwards but that was damn worth it). One time, we went out for trick-or-treating (we wore all black for camouflage), and we ran around a random neighbourhood scaring people, stealing candy from some houses and we also TP’d some trees but some angry people chased us out afterwards. Damn, that was fun.

Thinking back, my heart aches at all the fun memories we made, because soon they were no more. There weren’t anymore ‘we’.

*

I came home from school one day only to find my dad in my room. Shit. I panicked. He looked pissed. What did I do now? Then, I saw that my laptop was still on. Shit shit shit, I thought. I had forgotten to turn it off before I left for school.

My dad stood up from my chair, slamming my laptop shut. Then, he sat on my bed and stared at me while I stood at my door, thinking of escape routes.

"Mind explaining your browser history?" he said at last.

Oh fuck, I thought.

He probably saw the few years worth of ‘Am I Gay’ quizzes and. . . other gay stuff. I should have cleared my history ages ago, but I was too dumb to even know that existed.

“Look, this is just a phase, okay?” My dad said. “It will soon pass but I’m here to help it pass faster. There’s this thing I’m going to sign you up, called conversion therapy. . .”

Oh hell no. I’ve heard about that. Conversion therapy is no damn joke. It fucks you up deeply and if you even survive it, it leaves you a shadow of who you were before. No way in hell was I going to go through that - I’ll probably cut myself off if I ever did.

Then, I calmly said, “No.” and left the house.

But that didn’t stop them, though.

Because the next couple of weeks after that, my parents still insisted on sending me off to that damned place. And everytime I just left the house like before. Then, one night, my dad had it.

“Look, Derek,” he snapped, “we’ve been supporting you all your life and providing all your needs. We provided you with food, a roof over your head and education.”

My mom joined in. “If you’re going to be ungrateful and disrespectful to us, then that’s it. We no longer recognise you as our son, as how you no longer recognise us as your parents.”

Then, I got so pissed off at their illogic and screamed, “Fuck you both!” and they threw me out of their house. What assholes. It feels good to be out of that shithole anyway.

So, I stood at the end of my street with my overstuffed duffel bag slung around one shoulder and my phone in my hand. Without thinking, I dialled the number and let it ring. He picked up on the second ring.

“Derek!” Ryder said. “What’s up?”

“Can I, uh, stay over?” I said into the phone and mentally scolded myself. Why would I go to the house of the boy who got me into this mess in the first place? Well, I mean I had nowhere else to go, and he was the first person who came into my mind (but hey, what’s new?).

“Yeah, yeah sure.”

And I arrived at his door looking very distraught and homeless. Ryder helped me in and I flopped down on his black sofa, exhausted. Then, he cooked dinner for us and we ate in silence at the table.

“So,” he said, “what brought you here?”

The spoon stopped in mid-air. I couldn’t tell him the real reason - no, it’s too embarrassing - so instead I said, “Let’s just say I pissed my parents off so bad I’m homeless now.” Then, I shrugged nonchalantly and continued eating.

Ryder furrowed his eyebrows in thought and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you stay for as long as you need,” he said. “Do you have everything with you?”

I eyed my duffel bag at the foot of his sofa. “Yeah, everything.”

“Okay, that’s good,” he laughed. The eye-crinkling, hair-falling, perfect laugh. And the feelings came back in an overwhelming rush. No, stop that, you little gay fuck, the little voice in my head said. I gripped the spoon tightly and took a deep breath. Ryder stopped laughing.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I continued eating, forcing myself to not look at him or think about him anymore.

But, of course, that was damn difficult to do, when you’re literally living with the boy of your dreams.

Every day, every morning, every night, he was there. Always within my reach, but I forced myself to let him slip from my grasp.

And also, did I mention that he sleeps shirtless? Every morning he goes to the living room to wake me up - I don't trust alarms - in nothing but his sweatpants and dog tag only and I died every single time. It was pure torture for me, and I hated it. I hated how my feelings for him stayed even when I begged them to leave.

I had to do something to make myself stop ogling over Ryder.

So, I started hitting up on every girl I meet. I started making out with a lot of girls at every party I went to and I even slept with them. All this was done to make myself push my feelings for Ryder away. Not the best decision, but that was all I thought of.

And did that work? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Every girl’s lips I kissed, every girl’s hair my hand became entangled in, every girl’s body pressed against mine did not mask the fact that the only pair of lips I wanted to kiss, the only dark hair I wanted to run my hand through and the only lean body I wanted to press against mine was none other than Ryder’s, and I hated that. I hated my stupid gay thoughts. I hated everything about me.

Why must I be attracted to boys (Ryder, specifically)? Why can’t I be attracted to girls instead?

Why can’t I just be normal?

*

“Don’t think about Ryder, it will only give you more trouble” had become my mantra that time.

And it felt more like a death sentence.

*

A few weeks into said hooking spree, Ryder confronted me after school. He stood at his bedroom door, looking at me while I watched TV. I muted the TV and turned to him.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.”

I stood up to get water. “I’m going to get water. Want some?”

“Derek,” he said, ignoring my question and walked towards me. Something about his seriousness scared me (not in a good way).

“What’s up?”

Ryder was a few feet away from me then. I tried to look nonchalant as I drank water. He kept silent until I had finished.

“You being a makeout whore isn’t good, man,” he finally spoke.

“What?”

"Ever since you moved in, it's like my best friend suddenly became a playboy or something." He crossed his arms over his chest. “What happened?”

You see, I really like you but I hate it so I’m doing all this to stop myself from, you know, thinking about you, I thought, but I didn’t say it. It’s too embarrassing to admit. So, I kept silent.

“This isn’t like you, Derek.”

I started to turn away, to return to the sofa and watch TV, but Ryder’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. His thumb lightly grazed the inside of my wrist, sending shivers down my spine. No. Stop it. I pulled my hand away.

“Derek. . .” he started.

“Why the fuck do you care?” I yelled at him. The bottled-up feelings have suddenly become razor-sharp and jagged. Ryder looked hurt at my sudden outburst. Shit.

“Derek, you’re my friend. Of course, I care.”

Friend. Friend. Friend. Isn’t this what you wanted? Ryder’s your friend. Nothing more, I reminded myself, but it didn’t work. Strangely, I was riled up.

“You don’t need to know, Ryder,” I spat.

“Derek. . .”

“You know, if it weren’t for you, my life would still be normal!” I blurted out. Shit, I thought.

His face fell, and it hit me hard in the gut. Shit. What was I doing?

“What?” he said.

“A piece of shit like you is the last thing I need in my life,” I snapped. What the fuck?  Why did I say that?

Hurt and confusion clouded his face, then rage took over. He grabbed my shirt and pinned me against the wall. So close, he was so close to me. Our noses were almost touching and I felt his warm breath on me. Shit. The thoughts intensified.

“What the fuck did you say?” Ryder growled.

“I said you’re a piece of shit!” I answered, and again I regretted that. You see, that was the same thing his father used to call him, along with a few slaps and blows to his head.

And he looked like he was fighting something inside him. He looked down, black hair falling over his face. His breathing became rapid and his muscles tensed, gripping my shirt tightly.

Ryder was a hand grenade, and I was removing the pin, little by little.

I hated it. I hated hurting him. I hated myself the most, even more than my parents.

He looked up at me, turquoise eyes glassy. “Don’t,” he whispered, his voice sounding choked.

I hated myself. Stupid me, going all goo-goo-eyes on him and ended up hurting him instead. What a fucking dumbass I was. Stupid little infatuation.

“Or what, your dad’s gonna scold me?” I retorted. The pin has been ripped off. I hated myself. Even I  knew I’ve gone too far.

“Shut up.” He gritted his teeth, his iron grip still on my shirt. Silent tears ran down his cheeks, his nostrils flared and he stared daggers at me. “Shut. Up.”

What have I done?

Finally, he let go. He turned and went into his room, slamming the door. A couple of seconds later I heard muffled screams and sobbing coming from his room - it was damn painful to listen to - but I just stood there, not doing anything, not even apologising. I just stood there like an idiot.

He was finally out of reach.

But still, I hated it.

*

Living with Ryder who hated me was worse than when we were still friends.

Every morning before school, he would be out of the house even before I woke up, wandering to who-knows-where before strolling into school five minutes before the bell rings. Then, after school, he would come home a little later than me, and he would lock himself in his room all day, only coming out to use the bathroom or to cook (he still cooked for me too, but he ate in his room all the time). The cycle would repeat, and we barely saw each other - other than in school. It was like living with a ghost.

He couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as me, and it hurt because it’s like being with my parents all over again.

At school, he was so closed-off and distant. He rarely smiled or laughed. He would just sit there, his face devoid of all emotions; his body here but his mind in another dimension. Nick and Sin would try to weasel a few laughs or smiles - or at least anything - from him but nothing happened. It was so painful to watch the life seeping out of him all because of me.

A few weeks later, my aunt called. She heard from my parents that I got kicked out, and she offered to let me live with her. I readily accepted her offer. Now that Ryder hated my guts, I didn’t see a reason why I should continue staying - apart from having someplace to sleep, of course.

I packed my things and knocked on Ryder’s bedroom door. It took a while, but he eventually answered. I told him what my aunt had said, avoiding his intense gaze. He didn’t say anything, even after I left his house.

*

Ryder might hate me, but his hatred towards me never ran as deep as the hatred I had for myself.

And all this pure, undiluted hatred for myself, I took it out on him. With every insult I made, I felt a tiny bit of satisfaction but the knife just went in deeper anyway. This whole thing wasn’t even his fault, but I made myself think it was.

I wanted to stop, to apologize, to have him again. But I couldn’t. I was stuck in a never-ending loop of self-loathe, pain and guilt.

And that’s the story of how I became an asshole.

*

I want to end it right here and now.

The music’s too loud, clouding my thoughts. I refused drinks - I need to stay sober for this. Then, I see Nick’s silver Toyota pull up in front of Jace’s house. I hide behind a wall and peek at them. Nick and Ryder talk to Jace for a while, then they say something into each other’s ear before splitting up. Ryder goes upstairs while Nick goes into the kitchen, near me. I quickly run away to avoid being seen by him.

A long moment passes. Ryder will come down anytime now to get more water - I hate how I know that. My mind is a nervous wreck but I remind myself to stay calm because I need to get it out of my chest for years. Then he finally comes down the stairs and heads to the kitchen. I quietly walk to the kitchen and lean against the wall, thinking of what to say and how to say it.

Ryder turns around and immediately scowls. “Why the fuck are you here?” he says.

“I got invited. You?” and he rolls his eyes at me.

Well, this is going pretty fucking smoothly.

He’s starting to walk away but I quickly grab him by the wrist. I need to tell him this. I only have one shot. I can’t let it slip from my fingers (literally).

“What the fuck?” says Ryder.

I bring him towards the first-floor bedrooms for privacy. Ryder struggles a bit but I hold his wrist tightly. I might not be as muscular as him but I sure am strong. Then, I let go of him.

This is it.

I corner him and Ryder glares at me. I look into his gorgeous turquoise eyes, still seething with anger. This is it. My stomach twists and my brain turns into mush. Right now, my heart is beating so fast I might die, but I finally say the thing that has been eating at me for so long.

“I like you, you know?”

I’m looking away now. I can’t look at him - I’m scared of what his reaction would be - so I keep talking. I say everything that I kept bottled up for three years. I tell Ryder how I feel about him.

My chest feels a little lighter now, and I finally look at him, my cheeks heating up. He’s still glaring, but not as harshly as before. That’s a plus, but there’s one last thing I need to do. I cup his face.

“What are you doing?” he growls.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” I say and lower my lips to his.

Damn, his lips are soft.

I’ve been waiting for this since grade 9. I’ve been waiting to feel his lips on mine, and now I’m nourished. For three years straight, he has always been the subject of my daydreams, whether I liked it or not. I feel Ryder relaxing a little and I calm down a bit.

But, just as I’m about to run my hand through his hair, his body suddenly tenses and he forcefully pushes me away. I look at him, feeling confused and a little gutted. All stupid hopes I had immediately disappeared.

That didn’t go well.

I’m trying to take it back, but he’s not having any of it. Hatred, pain, guilt - it’s all coming back big time. Fat tears start to roll down my face and I can’t stop them.

I’m begging him now, trying to make him understand. But it’s all too late.

Ryder’s voice sounds choked with tears and his eyes are watery. “I- I like. . .” he says, and my hopes go up a little. I stupidly hope he says, I like you too, but instead, I hear, “S-someone else.”

The pin’s ripped off, but this time it’s me who goes off. I completely break down in front of him, holding his wrists. I feel so dumb for even thinking he’ll like me back. Why would he? Why would he return the feelings of the boy who hurt him so deeply and still continued to?

He likes someone else. I bet it’s that guy he’s always hanging out with during recess - Nathan Adler. A little shorter than Ryder, fluffy ginger hair, gold-rimmed glasses and always wearing an oversized sweater no matter the weather. Shy, mousy, cute - I get it. If I were Ryder, I'd definitely date the cute freckled boy rather than the desperate fuckup.

I let him go. It’s no use. I shouldn’t even have tried; it’s doomed from the start anyway.

I continue crying, each intake of breath like a knife to my chest. I hate myself even more now. I shouldn’t even have stepped foot into this school.

He’s gone now, and I let it happen.

Once again, he’s out of reach.

____________________

Oh my god, 3500+ words I- bsjbwhs

Sorry if this chapter is LoNg, I had to squeeze Derek's whole life into one chapter ⚰️⚰️

Anyways do yall still hate him?

Feel free to vote and comment! Stay safe my fellow comrades ❤️❤️