Opposing Forces
Chapter 3
By Jeff
"Clarissa," I said. "What are you guys doing here?"
"We were here to see if you needed emotional support, ya know, during those intense moments of hunching over the toilet bowl, but, it seems you already had backup," Clarissa spit out.
"Um...I'm feeling better," I mumbled. "I'm not going to sing showtunes or jazz dance around the block, but I definately feel a bit better."
"Cut the bullshit," Jacob said, speaking up. "You weren't sick!"
In my head, I wanted scream: NO SHIT! DUH! But of course, I said, "No, Jacob, I wasn't."
"Let's get out of here," Ryan said, finally speaking. "He obviously doesn't need us to be here right now."
Out of those three, I could read Ryan the best. He was pissed (well, duh), but he was more hurt than angry. But there was something else...was that jealousy I sense?
"Guys, wait!" I pleaded desperately.
None of them stopped or turned around, they piled into Ryan's car and drove off. There was a moment of awkward silence between Tyler and me, since I wasn't exactly at the point of chatting. Tyler finally spoke up.
"You still want burgers?" he asked, nonchanlantly.
"You're kidding me right? Did you NOT just witness World War III out here? How can you think of food at a time like this."
"Well, I'm hungry," he said. "Clarissa will get off her menstural cycle eventually and Jacob and Ryan will take the sticks out of their asses, and they'll realize how they blew this one way out of proportion."
"I can't believe you just said that," I said, astonished. "How can you be so heartless?"
"Being blunt and being heartless are two very separate things Dwayne," Tyler responded, defensively. "If you don't want to accept the truth then keep hiding behind this melodramatic bullshit, that's fine...meanwhile, can we just grab some food?"
I was confused...well, emotionally. I didn't know if I want to get food (I WAS hungry after all), sock Tyler in the face (for dissing my friends), or go into an emotional frenzy (lock myself in my room, whine, bitch, dwell in self-pity, shun myself from society)...but I just made an obvious decision:
"Food, it is," I said. "I'll think about all this on a fuller stomach."
The burger joint was full, so we settled for pizza. (There goes the burger craving). We ordered a large combination pizza and I just sat there contemplating.
"I still didn't appreciate what you said about Ryan and them," I said. (It would've had more of an emotional effect, if I only said it when the timing was JUST right.)
"I didn't appreciate being called heartless either," he quipped back.
"Tyler, we're not friends, you know this right?" I said.
"Well, what are we then Dwayne?"
"I don't know, but you can't leave my life and then reenter it four years later."
"Well, what was I suppose to do?" he asked. "Everytime I pass by, all I get are these nasty looks from you guys. I'm just suprise you guys haven't killed and buried me yet."
"We're not that belligerent," I said. "Besides, with what's going on, you AND I will both be digging our graves."
"So should I be hitting the hardware store after we're done here?" he asked jokingly.
"It's not funny Ty," I said. "Back to the original point---"
"---relax, will ya?" he said. "We're just eating pizza together, not like we're getting best friend bracelets or getting each other's name tattooed on our asses, so just eat up and we're through, cool?"
I considered his proposition, "Alright, pizza and that's it."
"Ok. Suit yourself."
The pizza came and we ate in silence, I looked up to find Ryan walking in towards the take out counter.
"Ry---" I began to call him, but Tyler told me to shut up.
"Why?" I asked.
"Let him cool down and then go apologize," Tyler said.
"Screw that," I said and hopped off my stool that I was sitting on.
I ran towards Ryan and tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around and gave me this suprised yet angered expression.
"What do you want traitor?" he asked.
"Traitor?" I retorted. "I'm eating one meal with this guy, and I'm a TRAITOR?"
"You're a traitor when you lie to us to eat a meal with this guy," Ryan said. "Beside, he was JUST your spanish partner, so why does that include a meal?"
"We're just eating a meal together..." I said. "It's not like we're becoming friends."
"That's besides the point Dwayne," he said sternly. "When you lie to us to be with Tyler for ANY reason, it means you don't trust us enough. And THAT my friend defeats the purpose of friendship."
I was silent for a second, Ryan had a point there. I HAD lied to them and...
"Well..." Ryan said, picking up his pizza. "I'll see you around Dwayne."
"Ryan..." I began and he brushed past me and out the door.
I walked back sadly to my stool and Tyler said, "Was that productive?"
"Shut up," I said back snappily. "And don't---" I said, as he mouth opened to speak..."---even say I told you so."
"Alright," he said, stifling his laughter.
I paid for my half of the bill and left.
I buttoned up my coat as I walked through the park, the same park when I encountered Tyler. Sorry folks, no bridge scene here, how melodramatic will THAT be? I just took a seat on the bench nearby and surveyed the night life.
"Figure I'd find you here," a voice said behind me.
I turned around and I found Ryan standing there.
"Ryan," I said, suprised.
Truth is, I was suprise. I thought it was Tyler pestering me or something, but instead I find my best friend standing there.
"Can I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the spot next to mine. (Probably presuming it belonged to Tyler.)
"I don't know, can you?" I retorted with a chuckle.
"May I sit here?" he rephrased, agitated by my grammar corrections.
"Well..." I said, pretending to ponder.
"I'm going to leave..." he stated.
"I'm kidding," I said. "Yes, you MAY sit down."
We sat there enjoying the view when he spoke, "So why Tyler?"
"Why Tyler? What do you mean 'why tyler'?" I asked, confused.
"Why do you have to become friends with him again?" he asked. "That's just making all this...so much harder."
"All THIS?" I replied back. "Spanish project and a pizza...not exactly trading sides here."
"You know Italy traded sides in World War I...and THEY almost died," he said.
"Are you foretelling my treacherous death?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, I'm just stating that I, or we, don't like traitors."
"I don't either," I responded. "Listen, I lied to you guys because...well, I didn't want to go to see a movie and have all you guys hound and bombard me with an alligation about my association with Tyler...I just wanted a quiet night to sort things out, and then at around 6, he rang the doorbell. He showed up, proposed a meal, I needed food...and I agreed...I opened the door...and that's when all THIS started."
"Quite an adventure," he remarked. "Well, truth is, we're not mad at you."
"Really?" I said, with a sigh of relief.
"We're more hurt than mad, honestly," he said. "But I understand...well, I'm trying to understand...you don't have a thing for Tyler do you?"
"WHAT?!" I said, my voice hitting a higher octave. "No, I don't have a thing for Tyler."
"You don't?" he asks uncertainly.
"No, never," I said convincingly.
I find Tyler attractive but that's just my hormones talking, I know Tyler is bad for me. Tyler is bad, bad equals Tyler.
"All right," he mumbles, still unconvinced.
"Why does that matter anyway?" I asked.
"I don't know," he said, dazing out. "I'm just asking, don't get too defensive."
He took something shiny out of his pocket, it was a small bottle of vodka.
"Want a swig?" he asked me, showing me his bottle.
"No," I said. "And since when do YOU drink?"
"It's a good way to clear your head," he said.
"How so?" I ask. "You drink your worries away and they'll come back to haunt you when you're sober....like your mother-in-laws."
He chuckled.
"Were you drinking before you got here?" I asked suddenly.
"A few sips..." he replied.
"Ryan Andrew Knickenbocker, drunk driving....have you no shame?" I said.
"I walked smart-ass," he replied. "I'm not that stupid."
Ryan took a few more sips and he was delirious...
"C'mon Ryan, let me take you home, you're wasted," I said.
"NO!" he screamed. "I don't want to go home! THEY don't understand!"
"Who don't understand?" I asked, trying to calm down a very hysterical boy now.
"My mom...my dad!" he said, yelling still. "They don't understand."
"Ryan, I know they don't understand...but what don't they understand?"
"They do'nt understand..." he kept chanting....he was starting to frolick around the park.
I chased after him...I grabbed him...and he fell, both of tumbling onto the ground.
I was wincing in pain, while he was laughing hysterically at the mishap.
"Ryan," I said. "Stop being like this."
"Just laid he--re," he said, his words starting to slur together.
"All right," I said, hesistantly. "ONLY if you stop chanting and acting like an idiot."
"I promise," he said. He gestured, "Scout's honors."
"Ryan, that scout's honor thing doesn't work anymore," I said.
"Why not?" he demand.
"We dropped Scouts when we were nine, it is only effective when you're in the scouts stupid," I replied.
"Fine then." he said. "Just lay down."
I just listened to him, he's drunk anyways.
"Look at the stars," he said, pointing at the beautiful shimmering diamonds up above. "Remember how we use to lay in my treehouse and open up the trapdoor to the roof to see the stars..."
"Yeah, that was so long ago," I said, recalling our childhood days in the treehouse.
"I miss those days," he said sadly. "When it was just you and me baby...nothing to worry about...just childish pranks and endless sleepovers...stuffing our face with junk food..."
"Where's this all leading to Ryan?" I asked him, I turned to find his eyes set upon me.
"This," he said, and he leaned in to give me the softest and wettest kiss.
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