The Black Rose Season

17

When we get back to the frat house, I am miserable. I need to break up with Brendon before we ever even got together. Why? Where is the fucking justice? All I can think of is him, I am goddamn obsessed with Brendon. Fuck, I want to have his babies, and I'm a guy. So this, right now? This sucks. I hate Pete Wentz, I hate Jon Walker, but most of all, I hate myself.

I hardly take notice of Spencer's reckless driving on the drive back. When we get to the frat house, I follow him to his room in hopes of delaying the inevitable conversation I have to have with Brendon. Brendon will hate me. He will go back to hating me, and it will kill me. But Jon is right, I can't do both. I can't date Brendon and spy on him. It'd be wrong and immoral and not a basis for a healthy relationship. Jesus, fuck. Twenty-four hours after Brendon and I dry-hump (which doesn't sound very romantic, but it still was in my eyes), I dump his ass. I hump and dump. Excellent stuff, Ross, I should put this in a poem.

"Is everything okay?" Spencer asks me with a frown when I keep staring out of the window of his room.

"Yeah..." I mumble.

Spencer keeps staring at me with his blue eyes before shrugging and going back to unpacking his stuff. Sisky barges into the room, laughing about the stupid shit he did over the weekend and how he can't remember most of it. I keep fidgeting, terrified of what I have to do, what I don't want to do.

I have to do it in a nice way. "It's not you, Brendon, it's me." No, that's cliché. "I can't sleep with the enemy." No, definitely not that. "Jon is going to tell Pete unless I break your heart!" Er... no. And that makes it all the more stupid! How the fuck is Brendon going to invite me to join his society after I pull a stunt like this? But at the same time, I know Chiz is a member. I can start sucking up to him. And maybe Brendon won't hate me, maybe I just need to say I'd rather be friends with him. Yeah, friends. I'll try that.

Brendon isn't in our room when I get back. His stuff is here, but he isn't. I suppose I'll just wait.

I try to get some work done, but it just isn't happening. I keep dreading Brendon coming back. He does, after a while, saying he was watching TV in the common room. I sit by my desk, trying to launch into this thing of us taking a step back, just being friends, all this bullshit I don't want.

Brendon walks over, swaying his hips ever so slightly, forcing my legs apart and standing between them as he leans down to kiss me on the lips.

"Wanted to do this all day," he murmurs quietly.

Oh, god, I have to put a stop to this? Why? What did I do in my previous life to deserve this?

I don't kiss Brendon back, just helplessly try to memorise the feel of his lips on mine. Brendon frowns, standing up straight.

"You okay?"

I look away, already feeling guilty. "Yeah, um. I just feel... sick. Must have been all that English food."