Ryan Diaz

I woke up the next morning and it was like I hadn't even slept a wink at all. My mind was like hyper active all through the night and I had different dreams each trying to form and break the mystery and drama surrounding Ian's life. I had come up with different life scenes of how Jon died and somehow I always ended up by the road, staring in shock as the guy in a mask takes off his mask and August's face come to view.

"Shit," I drew on my hair as I got out of bed. How did I become so invested in this? It wasn't even my life. I sighed, picking up my phone and hoping to see a string of notifications, maybe visit my real life again even though it's just from the screen but then it wasn't my phone and there were no single notifications. "Really Ian?" I scoffed, "not even Instagram?" I shook my bed, throwing the phone on the bed and sulking while making a mental note to create social media for him if he didn't already have one.

I missed Ryan. I missed Ryan's life so much, I wanted to cry. The last year I usually woke up to Becca knocking incessantly on my door if it was locked and if it wasn't then she'd somehow open it, yes, she barely three years old, get into the room and get into the bed with me. If she tried and couldn't wake me up, then she'd cuddle beside me and fall asleep again, most time she succeeded though and I'd be wide awake in a second. If not Becca, then it was Wayne yelling, "wake up champ!"

I stared at myself in the mirror and the dark circles in my eyes did nothing to cheer me up. I got out my room and the house was so quiet, it was weird. It has never been this quiet with me. Cuba was alive and noisy morning, afternoon and night, especially with all my cousins and relatives and then in Liverpool, Wayne was always up to something.

"Mr..." I coughed, cleared my throat. "Dad?" There was no answer. I proceeded to take my bath, chose one of Ian's clothes, I wasn't left so much option and ended up with a black trouser, no rip and a blue baggy hoodie and sneakers. Basic.

When I got downstairs, I met a plate covered up in the kitchen with eggs and bagel on it. I searched around for a note but there was none. Nothing, he just left. I brought out a note to scribble thanks and to tell him I would be staying at the Junkyard tonight but then I squeezed the paper and put it in my pocket. He didn't leave a note for me and I wasn't sure if Ian was a note leaver.

I got on a bus, installed a racing game into Ian's phone and played it quietly until I reached the school. I didn't want to talk to anybody and I didn't want anybody to talk to me.

"I wasn't sure you'd come anymore," Myra said the moment she saw me alighting from the bus. She was waiting outside the school for me. I smiled at the warm gesture and put my arm around her in a hug. "Would have called but I had to borrow my sister my phone."

"What happened to hers?"

Myra rolled her eyes. "Got stolen. I don't understand her either so don't ask."

I raised my hand up in surrender. "That's fine with me."

She paused and came to look me up close in my face. "How come you look more Ian now?"

"So Ian is sleep deprived and miserable?"

"Eh," she shrugged, then chuckled. "Wait, why are you miserable? Did something happen with your dad?"

"No, I didn't spend long enough time with him for something to happen. I just didn't sleep and woke up missing my life. I should have brought my phone with me here." I pouted. "I miss social media." Then I blinked. "Oh that's reminds me." I brought out Ian's phone, put my hood on, covering half my face and then I took a picture.

"What are you doing?"

"Opening Instagram for Ian."

Myra laughed. "He is going to kill you when he wakes up and it'll be useless anyway. You'd be too busy here to even think of social media."

"Really?" I set his username as the_realIan. Ha, how ironic.

"Yes. We have to make deliveries after school, so don't disappear. You've got the 'stuff' in your bag, right?"

I swallowed, pocketing the phone. Remembering that I had drugs in my bag just dampened the mood. "Which I think is very risky, what if I get caught? This is academic grounds."

"You wouldn't get caught," Myra said as we walked into a school grounds. It was different seeing such a gathering without identical uniforms. Some girls even wore short shorts. Interesting. Many students were either with bicycles, walking or in a car. I saw one or two skateboards and motorcycles though. "Nobody cares over here and Ian has clients here too. He denies it and doesn't want me getting involved but I know he sells here too so some people might approach you for something.  Be on alert." She finished or so I thought. "Oh and if the principal byes drugs from you, promise to tell me? Not because I want to expose her, no. I just want to know that I am right and there's no way she's always that cranky without drugs helping once in a while."

I chuckled, "ok, I promise." I was honestly not looking forward to seeing any Principal drugs though.

Myra guided me into the school and took me to my locker. We were actively talking and smiling but in reality she was showing me around so I don't get lost. I opened Ian's locker and it was packed with books again. "Jesus, is he a librarian?"

Myra burst out laughing. "No but I've asked him that too. Ian almost always has his head buried in a book and has gotten into plenty of trouble in this school. In fact to stay in character, you need to have your head buried in a book too."

"Thanks but I'd rather not get into trouble in school."

"Just do it."

"No way."

"Do it."

While Myra and I argued, someone suddenly yelled, "clear the way." And then the packed hallway, parted in the middle a little. We heard tyre rolling on the ground sound and soon enough, a skateboard rolled by with a familiar bloke on it. August.

He had in baggy cargo pants, a big top, sneakers and pulled off the perfect Instagram worthy streetwear as he whizzed by. His curly hair was still curly and shiny and he had headphones on. I was backed up by my locker but somehow still, our eyes happen to meet and he smirked at me, spreading his arms wide as he rolled away. It seemed like my world paused when our eyes met and I could hear my own breathing and he was in some kind of slow motion as he went but I reality it actually happened so fast. August looked away first, making an exciting, "wohoo" noise as he used a leg to propel himself forward more.

It was Myra's deep swoon sigh that brought me back to the present and I turned to look at her resting on a random locker with a dreamy look on he face. "Ah, August. What a specimen, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Right."

"I need to tell him how I feel this session Ryan and ugh, it's so hard." She grabbed my hoodie. "Why is it so hard to confess something so natural?"

I gulped, remembering Ian's book. Not only was Ian a murder suspect to me but he was also an ex hook-up arrow. I couldn't talk about August at all. "You know he knows you like him, right?"

"What?" Myra eyes sparkled. "Did he say anything to you? Did you notice something?" Then she paused. "Oh wait, you're Ryan. You wouldn't know shit." She smacked me. "Stop getting my hopes up."

"I wasn't trying to get your hopes up," I closed my locker after picking a random book out. "I was trying to tell you that he knows you like him. If he liked you back, he would have said something to you by now. Maybe even acknowledge your existence and the fact that you like his mop head."

"Ouch," Myra looked hurt as she touched her chest. "Rude."

I sighed, "fine sorry. I'm just saying."

She looked like she was going to sigh too and start pouting but the next second, she flips. "And what do you mean mop head? I hope you didn't mean that as an insult because August is perfect."

I bite my cheeks to stop myself from speaking but it's so hard. "Doesn't his hair looks like he sprayed it with wood shine and mopped a place or two?"

"Ryan!" She yelled, then coughed, looking around to make sure nobody heard. Nobody who was close enough heard because they couldn't care less about us. "Sorry, Ian! Don't say that. August's hair is perfect. It's shiny and curly and so cute the way he runs his hands through it and it just bounces back in place like nothing happened. I bet they are so soft and luscious and rich with hair juice or whatever."

I blinked at her.

She blushed and rolled her eyes. "I'm serious and about the him knowing I like him part. It's not valid, in this time and age, if you don't say it, then it doesn't count. Do you know how many girls look at him and admire him in a day?" She waved me off with a silly smile. "He can't possibly come up to all of them. If I don't say it, then it's not real."

I shrugged, just at the bell rang. "Just saying, he might be gay and a murderer."

"What?" She raised her brows.

I winked, masking my serious accusations with comedy. "Chop chop, here comes Michael."

"Ryan," she called and stopped to clear her throat. "Ian, I swear to God, it's you I'd chop chop to pieces and cook!"

I laughed and Myra led me to my first class. I wasn't going to tell her about my hunch and the things I read in Ian's dairy yet. I wasn't sure of anything yet and Myra loved August. She'd surely pick his side over me who she's barely known in person and that would be all for me. Plus, nobody was really to be trusted if not Ian would have told somebody already. No way he would want to torture himself and bottle all that in. He had no choice, he had no one.

Thinking about that made me kind of sad because I thought he had me. I had him and I told him stuff and he told me stuff too. Just not life threatening stuff which is actually the stuff that needs to be shared. I also kind of got him though. During the years we found and got to know each other, I noticed that Ian always tried to portray his best and perfect self to me. If it wasn't Myra who told me about the gang thing, he wouldn't tell me. It was like he didn't want to disappoint me and got the huge misunderstanding that he could ever. But I get why he thought that too.

My life was basically perfect, I lived in a polished proper mansion. I attended the best school, ate the best food, had the best step dad and half sister and the best friends and girlfriends. My problems were so ordinary compared to his; girl problems, sexuality problems, mom not listening to me etc. We barely delved into our souls and now I just want him to wake up so I can tell him that he is perfect and I don't judge and I think his life is really cool even though he'd think he is at a disadvantage. I wanted to tell him that and much more.

Myra waved me goodbye at my class and walked off to hers. I kept my hood up as I entered the class, slouching slightly with my hands in my pocket. The teacher was there already but the class had not begun and students were still talking. I looked around and my eyes landed on August's curly mass of shiny hair. Really? Is he everywhere? He was sitting at the side of the class, first row from the door and second to the last column. He had his headphones on and had a big book opened in front of him, colored pencil in hand as he wrote or drew.

I blinked, stopped looking at him and entered further into the class, picking a sit at the last row counting from the door and second to the last row. We were at two ends. I slouched in my seat and turned my head to him. I could faintly hear my mom smack my back and tell me to sit up straight but Ian didn't have mom in his life so he must be a sloucher. If I had a choice I would be one too so... figured. Now getting a closer look at the book on August's desk, it was a big sketch pad, he was drawing and I couldn't tell what from the distance.

My eyes moved from his bare hand, he had tiny hairs dusting on it and I trailed up to the half sleeve of his baggy shirt. He wasn't bulgy now that he was relaxed and drawing, he still had muscles but was really slender. He looked like if he didn't work out, he wouldn't have those and would be a thin broom stick. I couldn't outline his chest because of the baggy shirt. My eyes moved to his neck, not too long, not too short and upward. His ears were covered with the headphones, his hair was shiny and actually looked really soft, his lashes seemed long...

"Ok class, settle in!"

...His nose had to be perfectly straight and thin, his lips... still full and red-ish. He looked so calm doing whatever he was doing. Like an angel that couldn't hurt a fly. Was he camouflaging and was actually a murderer or was I just insane for thinking such things? I watched his hand move up and push the headphone down to his neck, he had a headphone print in his hair and one swipe through with his fingers brought the curls back up and equal. I watch him sit up straight and then I watch him close his sketch book and calmly turn to me.

Our eyes met and my lips immediately parted like I couldn't breath through my nose anymore and I quickly looked away. My heart was pounding now and I really couldn't breath through my nose and my face and stomach was hot. I drummed my fingers on the desk.

One. Two.

And then I looked back at him and he was still looking at me. I'm startled but for some reason I don't look away and he doesn't either. I fervently drum my fingers and if I was a rocket, my countdown to launch into the sky would have started. August looked like he wanted to smirk but caught himself quickly and frowned. Then he looked away first and I let out an exhale of relief, turning back to my front.

"Close one, Ryan. You could've died," I whispered to myself.

"Saying something Ian?" The teacher asked but I was too absorbed in my me moment and that wasn't my name. "Ian? Ian!"

I looked up sharply. "Y-yeah?"

"Did you say something?" She glared at me.

I shook my head. "No. So—" I looked away. Ian wouldn't apologize, he was rude. I looked back up and narrowed my eyes at the teacher. She raised her brow in confusion before looking away and continuing her class.

I looked back at August... I can't fucking control myself and now he's has a perfect frown on, looking at his book. Did I cause that? I sighed, making a mental note to stop whatever it was I was doing. I couldn't find out if he was a murderer from just his looks anyway. I reached into my bag and grabbed the book I took from Ian's locker.

Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen.

I opened a random page and started reading, keeping my hood on and trying to dissociate from the class. It was hard but I did it.

*

Lunch break came and I stupidly told Myra I could find the restroom on my own and that was how I found myself wondering the empty hallways instead of eating my chicken sandwich that I bought at quite a price.

As I attempted to walk past another, not bathroom corridor, someone clamped on my hand and dragged me into the little corner, pushing my back on the wall and caging me in.

"The fu—" the words literally went down my mouth when I saw it was August. I exhaled in relief, too soon in retrospect.  "Aug—"

He came closer until our bodies were literally touching, if he wasn't an inch or so taller than me, our nose would be too. He leaned down and his nose actually touched my cheek, my eyes went wide when I felt his breath fan me.

"Why?" He asked, more like whisper-groaned out. It was like he was fighting himself from doing and saying this. "Why the fuck do you do this to me?"