Hold Me Close (Edited Version)

Chapter 6

Ryan lead me up to his room and I sat down on his bed, trying to act like nothing was wrong though everything felt wrong. Ryan studied me closely, observing the façade and bypassing it like it wasn't even there. "So? What happened?" he asked.

I looked at him, calm and collected on the outside. "Nothing," I said.

Ryan frowned. "You can't expect me to let you stay here without at least telling me why," he said. "I mean I'm happy you're here, but I don't want to act like nothing is wrong. Tell me, I'm your friend."

I flinched at the mention of friends and shook my head. We were acquaintances at best. I gave him a fake smile. "Really. I just had a dumb argument with my dad," I said.

He raised his eyebrows. "And you went against your own boundaries just for that?" he asked.

My smile slipped and I looked away. "It was just an argument..." I insisted, wanting him to just leave it be so I didn't have to relive it.

Ryan moved to sit next to me and put a hand on my shoulder. I tried to ignore the feeling of his palm touching me as he spoke. "I won't force you to tell me, after all, it's none of my business," he said, sounding disappointed to admit it. "But my mom always tells me that the best way to deal with emotions is to talk about them. Get it out so you're not the only one to carry the load."

I chewed on my lip, contemplating this philosophy. It made sense, but I still didn't want to talk about it. Maybe if I got it out though, it really would be lighter. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I nodded my head. "Okay..." I said. "But I don't need you giving me some weird advice that only relates to social people like you. It doesn't always work the same way for different people."

This was goo enough for Ryan and he pulled two bean bag chairs out of his closet. He pointed to one. "Sit," he demanded. "It's more comfortable than the edge of a bed, and you can relax."

I did as I was told reluctantly and he sat in the other bean bag chair. I played with the hem of my shirt, still uneasy about telling him about my personal issues. He sighed, smiling softly. "It's okay, Jacob. Just tell me," he said.

I stared at him for a moment, solidifying who it was I was talking to. Then I nodded. "My dad was talking about me making friends," I started. "I told him... I didn't want to make any friends, that I didn't care."

Ryan shifted, a little uncomfortable with the sudden subject, but didn't interrupt me. Whatever he thought of me now was out of my hands. I continued, speaking slowly so I could choose my words carefully. "He doesn't understand why, so he disagreed. I didn't want to talk about it with him because I knew he would ask questions I couldn't comfortably answer. So, I left and came here," I said.

Ryan looked curious. "Why didn't you want to talk about it? What happened?" he asked.

I swallowed, my mind drifting back to Connor for a split second before snapping back into focus. "That's... personal," I said.

He frowned and scooted his bean bag closer. "Come on. I told you it'll never get easier if you don't let it out," he urged.

I sighed and slouched in my own bean bag. "I know. I was just..." I looked away. "I really don't think it's a good idea. You might not see me the same."

That wasn't a good enough excuse for Ryan, which I should have known, and he shook his head at me firmly. "I don't care what you look like. Despite what you may think, you are my friend and I'll see you whatever way I do and I won't care," Ryan said.

I felt my heart warm at that statement. That was a first. Even Connor hadn't been that understanding. I gave a small nod. "Okay..." I said. Ryan waited patiently for me to get settled again before I started. "When I was really little my mom and dad split up. My dad didn't even petitioned for custody. That meant that I went with my mom whether I liked it or not."