A/N: You all have the right to hate me now. So it's 12:40 a.m. (I'm not even rounding) and I whipped up, finished, and polished this chapter. So later in the morning (when normal people wake up), I'll read it again and see what crazy stuff I wrote. So far, when I read it over, I think it has potential to be a dramatic and wrenching scene if you que the theatrics in at the right time. I guess that's what actors are for. Guess I'll be calling Zac and Lucas up to run lines.
Oh, and btw, the ending totally reminds me of Brokeback Mountain. You haven't seen it? Watch it. Why? It's a pop cultural reference (if you are under 18, you did not get this advice from me).
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Never Easy to Say Goodbye
The Albuquerque heat only intensified as the sun rose higher into the sky, although Troy seemed unbothered by it while loading the last of his things into the car. He was to leave in a half hour; that way he'd be back at Berkeley by sunset. With each passing minute though, he squirmed. He didn't want to leave. Specifically, he didn't want to leave Ryan. Who knew when the next time they'd be able to see each other? Christmas? Even that seemed too long. Unsatisfied, he closed the trunk as Ryan drew closer.
He smiled, but it felt off. How was he supposed to smile when he'd be gone in thirty minutes? Having to drive away from the blonde boy seemed worse than if he had to drive Ryan to the airport himself. However, Ryan's flight was scheduled for tomorrow and he still had to get his books and registration stuff. And perhaps he'd get a job on campus to help finance his schooling. There were still plenty of details he had to figure out.
"Is that the last of your stuff?" Ryan asked, his normally bright face weary and solemn. Troy suspected it was an after-effect of the night before and never failed to pain him.
"Yeah," he replied somberly. Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple booklets, offering them to Troy.
"I set up a checking account for you," he explained. "And deposited $100,000 into it. The money will cover anything you need: housing, food, school, gas, necessities, anything. All your account information is in here as well as a checkbook for it." He handed them to Troy. "You don't have to worry about money anymore." Troy tried blinking the shock away, but he couldn't.
"$100,000," he repeated. "Ryan…I can't take this. It's too much."
"Look, with all the student debt out there and the economy being the way it is, it's better if you keep it," he countered. "Consider it a gift." Troy looked at the booklets in his hand, feeling uncomfortable holding all this money.
"I'll…I'll pay you back," he insisted. "Promise."
"You don't have to," Ryan remarked.
"I feel bad about taking this much, Ry," he tried elaborating. "So if you ever expect me to take it, let me pay you back when I can."
"If that's how you truly feel, I guess I can't stop you," he allowed. "But, if you just want to keep it, that's okay too."
"Yeah, so thank your dad for me for loaning this money," he said. "He has no idea how much this means to me." Ryan shuffled his feet, a small smile lighting his features for a moment before fading away.
"With all due respect to my father, technically this isn't his money," Ryan clarified. "It's mine."
"You just have this much money lying around," Troy demanded.
"Not exactly," he corrected. "Technically this money is coming out of my inheritance. My father's been distributing money into me and sister's accounts since he married my mother. What's in there is like half of our inheritance. He keeps the other half until he's dead."
"Your family is richer than I thought."
Ryan chuckled a bit, shaking his head. Troy tucked the account stuff into his back pocket and stood quiet for a while; taking in the scenery he wouldn't be seeing for a while. The few palm trees planted in the desert space, the baby blue hued sky, the fake rock formations, the reds and oranges and yellows of the area, the pretentious summer resort he was starting to learn to call home, Ryan…his breath caught. Oh what he would give to never say goodbye to him. Reminded of their oncoming separation, the question of what their relationship would come to came back to mind.
"So, let me ask the million dollar question," he started. "What are we going to do after today?" Ryan suddenly seemed rigid.
"Yeah, about that," he began, his gaze shifting away from Troy's face. "Troy…we…we can't…do this."
"Do what?" Troy asked, although deep down he could feel what was coming but didn't want to hear it.
"This," Ryan said, gesturing out toward him. "This relationship." If a piano fell from the sky or he was strapped to a rocket or abducted by aliens and then probed by them, none of them would be as terrifying or as painful as the meaning of those words were. Troy couldn't believe he was still standing when he felt that pile of bricks topple onto his heart. It was even worse when it started to sink it.
"What?" He asked in disbelief, his face almost pale.
"Come on, Troy," Ryan tried reasoning, his eyes searching for somewhere to look that wasn't Troy's face. He caught a glimpse though, and couldn't believe the pain he'd caused already. The most agonizing part of it though was that he wasn't done yet. "We both knew from the start that it wouldn't last past summer."
"I thought we'd work it out," he argued. "Come up with a plan so we could see each other. You know: Thanksgiving, Christmas, anything!"
"It's not enough," he told him. "We're too far apart. Literally on opposite sides of the country. Long distance relationships never work out so let's cut to the chase now."
Troy fought his lower lip from trembling.
"There's a thing called Internet," he tried. "We don't have to break up. Please."
"I'm sorry."
Troy's face tightened, trying to prevent tears from coming to his eyes. The expression reminded Ryan of a few summers ago when he twirled Gabriella around the pool. He never really forgot that day since, at the time, he'd had the biggest crush on the athlete. Then to find him standing there, looking hurt and betrayed and slightly angry, his first impulse was to comfort him since he felt so guilty for causing the expression. He hadn't though. It wasn't his place. And neither was now, even when every instinct told him to.
Troy shook his head, trying to shake off everything that made him want to burst.
"It's just like how it was with Gabriella," he commented. "She pushed me away too."
"Gabriella wanted a relationship with you no matter the cost," Ryan stated sourly. "Every time she 'pushed' you away, it wasn't to get rid of you. It was to make sure you went after her. Even if it meant leaving your family, your friends, or your future. And you did exactly that every single time. Troy, I could never ask you to do any of that. It's not fair to you. And you shouldn't ask me to give up my dream either. Especially for a summer romance that's just started."
"I'm not asking you to move across the country!"
"Well, I can't be in a relationship with you if we're going to be that far apart," he explained. "And neither of us should have to move for this dumb relationship."
"Dumb?" he questioned. "Does this mean anything to you?"
"That's not what I meant–"
"Sounded like it," Troy replied, his voice growing louder. "You know, you're definitely not the Ryan I thought I was in love with."
"Oh, you prefer the high school Ryan?" He asked, his voice turning to venom. "Well suck it up, I'm not him anymore."
"Yeah, but I liked that Ryan," he said in return. "I admired that you could show up to school everyday with a smile on your face. I liked that you were open to everyone you met. I liked that you could stick up for yourself and show Chad who's boss. I liked your style of performing and you definitely had a way with dancing. It was those things that I fell in love with, and I thought I was fortunate enough to see that they hadn't died. You're still sweet and optimistic and you're amazing at choreography, but this? The guy I see right now? That's not you."
All words left Ryan momentarily. He wasn't sure how to fight back on that one. He couldn't exactly deny it, for he knew he'd grown skeptical and critical. The last of his naiveté that kept him charismatic and bubbly had been spent on Luca. From that experience, he'd learned caution when it came to his emotions. He couldn't throw everything he had into a relationship. It was too risky. And he couldn't make an exception to that new set of rules. Not even to Troy.
"Well then," he remarked. "You should go."
"That's it?" Troy asked. "Ry, you're breaking my heart…I loved you – I still do. I thought…I thought you felt the same." A tear slipped past his eye unexpectedly which he swatted away. "Did our relationship mean anything to you?"
"Dammit, that's the problem!" Ryan snapped. "I can't do this, Troy! I won't go through this again. I can't!" He took in an uneasy breath as he tried to calm himself again. "Just go. Please."
"No goodbyes?" Troy inquired. "Not even one last –" Ryan shook his head.
"It's just better if you leave," he insisted. "Just a clean break. You know, with no strings attached."
"So you break my heart and then have me leave you," he shook his head as he went over to open the driver's door.
"I gave you some insurance for it though," he replied.
"I don't want your money," he said frostily. "You can have it back for all I care." He reached for his pocket.
"Keep it," Ryan reminded him. "You need it more than I do." Troy sluggishly shoved both back into his pocket again. He then took a moment to catch his breath before looking Ryan in the eyes.
"The stupid thing is," he admitted. "I still love you." He then got into his car, starting the engine. Ryan got out of the way as the Impala headed for the gates, his composure falling apart as the he watched Troy drive away from Lava Springs. He felt devastated, his sorrow drenched in melancholy, but in a way unlike how he felt when he found Luca cheating on him. This one was amplified and infinitely worse.
Meanwhile, Troy drove out of Lava Springs; the tears he'd been wasting energy trying to stop were running freely and they were indomitable. Each one that slid past, he wiped away with the back of his hand as quickly as he could.
He never once looked back.
