Sunday, Bloody SundayMature

Ryder:


At 7:30 exactly, my alarm begins beeping loudly, waking me from my fitful sleep. I let out a loud moan and hit the off button on it, sitting up groggily as I do so. 

"Why the hell do you have your alarm set for so early?" Dad yells from his bedroom, which is across the hallway from my own. 

"I thought we were going to church," I say, trying to sound disappointed. Honestly, though, I'm relieved. I hated going to church and I always will.

"No, we're staying home," dad explains. He sounds slightly annoyed, having gotten woken up earlier than he had expected.

"Oh, alright," I mumble. I hear no response from him, though; probably because I said it too quietly.

Knowing that there's no way that I'll be going back to sleep, I get out of bed. After putting my glasses on and quickly making my bed, I grab my guitar case from my closet and quietly slip out of my bedroom and down the stairs.

As I put on my jacket and open the door, I'm greeting with the crisp breeze that comes with fall weather. Emitting a slight shiver, I walk outside and close the door. 

"God damn it's cold out here," I mumble to myself. Ignoring the cold soon after I say this, I cross the street to the town park.

~~~~

After settling under an old oak tree, I take my guitar out of it's case and begin strumming quietly on it's strings. A few minutes later, I'm playing to the tune of "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" and singing along to it. 

I don't make it too far into the song, though, because I'm interrupted.

"What are you doing, dude?" A voice calls from a few feet away. 

Having not recognized the voice, I stand up and turn to look at who's speaking. To my surprise, it's Elliot; he's the quarterback for our school football team and my best friend. 

"I um... I was just... practicing guitar," I stammer, blushing violently. He raises an eyebrow at me, giving me a confused look with his dark green eyes. I shake my head slightly, trying to stop my thoughts from racing so fast.

'Damn, he's hot as hell,' I think to myself. This just causes my face to redden even more. Elliot's been my crush for three years now, but he's never noticed me. Or at least, noticed me that way. We've been best friends since 2nd grade; we're in 9th grade now.

Thanks to him, I realized that I was gay and my life has been a living hell since then, due to being bullied. Not only that, but I had to begin carrying the secret of my father abusing me and the fact that I like him.

"Something wrong?" Elliot asks, running a hand through his dark brown hair. 

"Oh, uh... No. You just caught me off guard," I say. This isn't really a lie, either; if I had known he was going to be here, I would've at least talked myself through some lines before talking to him. "Why are you here so early?"

"I come here every morning for a mile walk. Usually don't see people here when I'm doing it, though," he says, as if taking mile walks was something everyone did.

"Oh. Sorry if I interrupted you or something," I mumble, staring at the ground to keep myself from blushing even more. 

"No, you didn't," he says reassuringly. I nod, slightly comforted by that statement. "By the way, your guitar and voice sound great."

"You really think so?" I ask, jerking my head back up to stare at him. My face goes back to it's normal pale coloring and I grin. 

"Yeah, dude. You know... I've been looking for someone for lead vocals and guitar in my band. I play drums; you know that. I think you'd be great for that," he says, smiling back at me.

I stand watching him, motionless with shock. I attempt to rake my mind for an answer that wouldn't sound stupid, but he starts talking again before I can.

He's walking away now, but he calls over his shoulder to say one more thing. "I've gotta dash. I have church soon and I don't wanna show up wearing my running clothes. Think about it, though, and tell me once you've made up your mind."

I nod, even though I know he won't be able to see. 'Elliot's band... I just got offered to join Elliot's band,' I think excitedly to myself. 

The End

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