Handcuffs, Kisses and Awkward Situations: Mystery Romance

by Olivia Harvard

  “Thanks.” I offered a smile that he returned.

  “We should go,” Ryder grunted, his faded blue eyes meeting Chris’ in a glare. They held each other’s stare for a few tense seconds before Ryder tugged me along.

  “Wait.” Chris took hold of my arm, gentle but firm.

  He looked over my shoulder at Ryder, his brown eyes almost challenging him. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Ryder was returning the same death glare. Whatever was going on between the two was intense and I suddenly felt uncomfortable being in the middle of so much testosterone.

  Chris’ eyes swooped down to mine and they turned back into the warm pools of rich chocolate. He smiled and slowly removed his hand from my arm, fingers trailing a hot tingle down my skin.

  “I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow night,” Chris said.

  It was the moment I had been waiting for. Pictures of luxurious dinners and romantic walks in the moonlight flashed through my mind, followed by one of those sweet, soft kisses you only see in the movies.

  “There’s this new pizza parlour down Main Street. They’re meant to have the best stuffed crust,” Chris continued. “Do you want to, maybe, grab a slice with me?”

  Sure, pizza wasn’t a part of the romantic picture I had planned out, but I wasn’t complaining. I tried to bite back the grin that was threatening to spread across my face and strained to pull a casual expression.

  “Yeah, sure.” I tried to play it cool, but my high-pitch chipmunk voice kind of killed my nonchalance.

  “Cool,” he answered, grinning as he backed away and did one of those guy points at me. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  I sighed dreamily as he sauntered away and slowly floated alongside Ryder. We walked towards the main building in silence. I could hardly notice the cold because the warmth of Chris’ jacket resting on my shoulders. If I were in a normal state, the material of his blazer probably wouldn’t have done any good in protecting me from the strong winds, but my happiness blocked out any negativity.

  “He’s not worth it, you know.” The sound of Ryder’s voice broke through the silence and bruised my happy bubble a little.

  “Just because you guys aren’t friends, doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy. In fact, seeing as he isn’t your friend, means he’s definitely not a bad guy.”

  Ryder looked down at me, all tall and built and even though I was much shorter, I tried to look just as intimidating. “Don’t you know what kind of guy he is? He’s going to play you, Nora.”

  “Jealous much?” I sneered. “Why should you care who I date?”

  His stern face didn’t falter. All he did was raise an eyebrow at me. “Don’t come running to me when he breaks your heart.”

  There was seriousness in his tone and for a brief second, I saw my ex-best friend’s soft, caring eyes. But it was probably just the weak winter light playing tricks on his sky coloured irises.

  Six

  “I’ll have that, thank you, Mr. Collins,” our history teacher, Mr. Kansas, snatched the note from Ryder’s fingers just as he was about to slip it back to his friend. He gave Ryder a wicked grin of cruel satisfaction as he marched back up to the classroom. Ryder made a grunt and said a range of colourful language, to which our teacher scowled at in disgust. Mr. Kansas unfolded the thick piece of textured paper Ryder had ripped out from his sketch diary.

  “Have you touched her boobs yet?” Mr. Kansas read out loud to the class.

  This sparked up snickers and giggles chorusing through the class. Caine and Ryder exchanged cocky sneers, sharing some kind of best-bud telepathic bond. Mr. Kansas, on the other hand, wasn’t as amused as the rest of us. He crunched up the note in his big hands and glared down at the boys.

  “I’m glad you boys have a good sense of humour. I’m sure you’ll find detention this afternoon just as hilarious.”

  That wiped the smirks off their faces. Ryder replaced his cocky grin with a scowl of displeasure, leaning back in his chair and as he glared at the teacher. Caine looked just as frustrated and decided to find entertainment in his click-y pen.

  “Ha, ha,” I whispered mockingly, jabbing him in the arm.

  “Shut up, Nora,” he hissed back, poking me with his pen. “If you haven’t forgotten, you’re still chained to me.”

  Dammit.

  “Whatever,” I scowled in defeat, sinking into my chair.

  “And that concludes the history of the Russian Revolution,” Mr. Kansas finished, placing the textbook he was gathering information from down onto his desk.

  The bell rang seconds after his rant and everyone instantly started shuffling their things together to get out to lunch. Shoving some loose paper sleeves into my bag, I scraped back my chair and followed Ryder out.

  “Remember to finish your essays for homework! We’ll be starting a new topic tomorrow,” Mr. Kansas yelled out to his students, but the excitement of lunch freedom had tuned him out.

  As we all flooded out of the classroom and drifted into the sea of students in the corridors, heading for exits, Ryder and I made our way to the lockers. We had gotten a lot of stares since we got to class. Not because of the handcuffs. Apparently that was old news. It was because Ryder had only shaved half his face and I had a drawn on eyebrow.

  We floated with the current of kids and we made a stop at Ryder’s locker which, conveniently, was right next to Mel’s. Her bright, green eyes lit up as she saw me and she slammed her locker door closed. She shifted the weight of her textbooks and grinned as she headed over.

  Her vibrant, red hair was in a messy bun, a few short curls framing her thin, pale face. However, as she neared, she raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me.

  “So, the rumours are true,” she said.

  “Yeah,” I answered, “I am chained to an obnoxious jerk.”

  Mel looked down at our chained wrists, then back up at me. “No, I wasn’t talking about that. I meant you really did draw on your eyebrow with a Crayola.”

  “I did not draw my eyebrow on with a Crayola.”

  My best friend gasped. “No way! Don’t tell me Rachel Fawn was right. So it’s true you drew it on with a permanent marker?”

  I was seriously close slapping her. Mel became seriously interested in my face art. She leaned in closer to eyeball it and just when she was about to poke it, I leaned back and smacked into Ryder.

  He frowned down at me, but said nothing, shifting awkwardly as he shoved something into his locker. I tried peeking over his shoulder but his broad shoulders blocked my view. Ryder pulled out his books for the next few classes and closed his locker, his face coming into view. Even though Mel knew we were handcuffed together, it didn’t stop her from gaping at him. Girls like us usually didn’t even come close to a five-metre radius with guys like Ryder.

  “Wow…” she muttered. “Is it true that half a shaved face is what’s hot in Europe?”

  As always, Mel had no problem with asking people about gossip. It was just the way she was; shameless with her addiction to rumours. And what she said about Ryder’s half shaved face was pretty insulting. I mean, he shaves half his face and it suddenly goes around that it’s a trend in elite fashion. But my missing eyebrow sparks up a story, making everyone think I used my face as a canvas with a couple of crayons.

  High school sucks.

  Ryder raised an eyebrow and shrugged, which, apparently, was enough to pass as an answer, because Mel gasped in understanding and nodded. I, on the other hand, just stood there and watched them exchange telepathic messages through facial expressions. I seriously needed to get in with the whole silent conversation thing. “So, are we still sitting together?” Mel asked, walking along side us.

  “Of course.”

  “Actually, we made plans with my friends,” Ryder cut in.

  “Since when?” I snapped as we exited the building.

  “Since just now,” he replied, nodding over at his friends that had gathered around the school fountain.

  It was a large group, but alth
ough they all hung out together, they still split into smaller groups. Ryder’s best friend, Caine, was sitting on the edge of the fountain, flexing for the giggly brunette who sat on his lap. They all had this superior aura around them and the guys shone like stars in their black and white varsity jackets.

  I knew instantly I wouldn’t fit it.

  Mel must have been thinking the same thing because she paused. “I think…” she said, trailing off and hesitating as she stared at the group of populars. “I think I’ll go find someone… Um, see you later, Nora.”

  “Hey,” Ryder called, just as Mel was about to drift away. “You can stay.”

  Mel’s eyes widened as she stared from the group of Ryder’s friends, to me and back to Ryder. “Seriously?”

  “Sure.” Ryder shrugged. For a brief second, I thought Ryder was being nice. “I mean, it’s not like any of my friends like Nora.”

  Nope. Still an ass.

  We hardly took a step further before a group of giggling girls rushed over to him.

  “Jessica, Hailee, Bree,” Ryder soothed, giving each of them five precious seconds of his killer smile.

  One of the girls reached up and touched his cheek. “Loving the new look, Ryder.” Then she turned and saw me. “Nice Crayola eyebrow.”

  “Gee, nice to meet you too,” I grumbled, feeling even more self-conscious about my drawn-on eyebrow.

  I focused my attention on the fountain in front of me. It was painted coral blue, surprisingly clean, considering all the messy teenagers who loitered around it. In the centre of the fountain was a sculpture of a half lion, half human god. From its upraised palms, water, as clear as crystal, squirted and cascaded into the pool below. If you leaned in close enough and looked past the rippling sea, you could see glittering coins. And each of those coins held a wish.

  It was a school tradition that each graduating class would surround the fountain, toss a coin and make a wish on the last day of their academic careers. I was exactly seventy-three days away from doing so. Suddenly feeling nervous, I stepped away from the water and back into safe grounds.

  Although the fountain was reserved for the graduating class, any day that wasn’t the last day of school, the fountain belonged to the populars. Rumours go around all the time about kids getting tossed into the fountain because they got too close. And even though I doubted it was true, I didn’t want to get close enough to see if I was wrong.

  “Man,” Mel muttered, “I didn’t know chilling here would be so intimidating. They’re all so… mature. I’m scared to eat my sandwich in front of them.”

  My eyes flicked towards her. Her hair was dancing wildly around her porcelain face, like tongues of fire. “I know. I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

  Mel’s eyes widened as she gaped at me. “Are you serious? Do you know how much gossip goes around here? I can finally get some information right from the sources, rather than it being tossed around half a dozen times. This is great!”

  I rolled my eyes at my friend. Mel really had no shame when it came to gossip. By the time lunch was over she had discovered that one of the jocks had a third nipple and one of the girls had a feet fetish. She couldn’t stop chattering about the excitement, her enthusiasm oozing from her lips with every juicy word. I always thought she’d make a good journalist.

  When we departed to go to class, Mel left in a happy flurry and I returned to my miserable state. Detention couldn’t come fast enough.

  Seven

  Since Ryder and Caine were being distracting during detention, Mr. Kansas threw away his Sudoku puzzle from the newspaper and took Caine out for a “special job.” In other words, he was going to be scrubbing the gym with a toothbrush. With a look of annoyance, Caine sauntered out of the classroom, hands shoved in his pockets.

  In the meantime, we were put on chewie duty. Ryder and I were given two scrapers and a pair of gloves each and were expected to start cleaning immediately. But once we were under one of the desks¸ Ryder pulled his gloves off and tossed them away.

  “I’m not cleaning anyone’s gum from under those desks.”

  “If anything, I shouldn’t be scraping gum off desks!” I answered. “It’s your fault we’re in detention.”

  Ryder raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I’m in detention. You just had to come along because we’re chained together by these stupid handcuffs.”

  The thought had never occurred to me.

  “Oh my God, so why am I cleaning?” I wondered out loud.

  “Yeah, why are you?”

  Snapping my gloves off and throwing away my tool, I nodded. “I’m not.” With that, I made my way out from under the table.

  Only problem is, I forgot how close the table was to my head, so when I was shifting around uncomfortably, I hit my head… right into a big chunk of gum. Realising what I had just done, I tried to slowly pull myself out, but the gum was fresh and it stuck to my scalp like sticky glue.

  Raising my hand, I placed it on the piece of hair and yanked hard. All it did was break a few, blonde strands but a majority of my hair stayed stuck to the gum. I scanned my panicked eyes to Ryder. He was leaning against the chair, skilfully sending out a text with one hand and grinning in cocky satisfaction.

  “Ryder!” I hissed, poking his chest.

  He grunted distractedly as he finished off the rest of his message and finally looked up at me with a glower until he noticed that my head was connected to the table. A grin spread out across his face and he let out a deep chuckle.

  “What the hell did you do?”

  “Does it matter? Just help me out!”

  Ryder laughed over my stupidity for another couple of long minutes before he finally reached over to grab his bag. Drumming my fingers impatiently on the floor, I waited for him to do something. When he turned around, my stomach dropped. He had something in his hands. The handles were a deep, sapphire blue and the blazes glinted in the afternoon light.

  Ryder was holding a pair of giant scissors.

  “No,” I said firmly. Then, to emphasise my displeasure, I repeated,“No.”

  “What else am I supposed to do?” he questioned, skilfully spinning the equipment in his hands.

  “I don’t want to have a bald patch,” I cried.

  But deep down, I sadly knew that this was the only way out. Looking up at Ryder, I heaved a sigh and motioned for him to make the snip. Shuffling closer, he ducked his head under the table with mine, scissors aiming for my head.

  We were close, really close. So close that I could feel his warm breath against my cheek. I watched every even rise and fall of his chest, and saw his muscles tense in concentration. I could feel warmth radiating into me, from the heat of his chest to the warmth that flowed from his hands.

  He leaned in closer, to see the gum, so close that his rough, unshavened cheek brushed against mine. I could hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears, and it drowned out all the other sounds to a point where I didn’t notice Ryder had finished cutting.

  He leaned back until his face was inches away from mine. His faded denim eyes glittered with rebellion, his lips slightly parted. I could feel his warm breath on my lips as his hand gently slid down to my elbow. Cerulean irises skimmed down to my mouth and they lingered there for no longer than a devilish second before he met my eyes again.

  A full smirk grew across his face and his eyes shone with arrogance. “You have a booger,” he whispered, taking his hand off my elbow.

  Feeling flustered from embarrassment and intimacy, I did nothing but glare, feeling my cheeks heat up.

  “Wow.”

  A sudden voice came from the door and Ryder shuffled away from me. It’s not like he could go really far. Unlike myself, Ryder seemed to be calm and collected, no sign of colour blossoming into his cheeks. I, on the other hand, looked like an over ripened tomato.

  “Did I just disturb ‘a moment’?” Caine asked, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. A smirk danced on his lips.

  “Just a di
sturbing discovery,” Ryder snorted.

  Caine stepped forward and grabbed a chair from the front row. He swung it back to front and sat on it, placing his long, muscular arms over the backrest. “As tempted as I am to ask what the hell that means, I’m hungry. Want to break out of here? I feel like a double cheeseburger.”

  “Sweet,” Ryder answered, already trying to stand up. “Let’s hit Macca’s.”

  When I followed Ryder, Caine took one look at me and burst out laughing. “Were you that bored that you decided to cut your own hair?” He chuckled.

  “Shut up,” I hissed.

  ~♥♥♥~

  Although Ryder and Caine ordered two double bacon cheeseburger each with large, chocolate sundaes to devour afterwards, they still ate faster than me. I had a happy meal, which, might I mention, came with a really awesome stuffed Nemo toy.

  Once we had finished eating, Caine dropped us back to my house. Ryder told his parents that we were still doing our ‘important project’ which allowed him to stay for another night. But, really, I didn’t know how long we could use the same excuse. Any normal kid would have just told his parents, but Ryder’s were… scary.

  As we walked up the stairs, I hardly got to fish my key out from my pocket because Eve swung the door open and glared at us. “Where have you been?” she snapped.

  I looked past her and towards the grandfather clock sitting by the staircase. We had arrived home just after six. Eve blew away a piece of hair that had fallen out from her low ponytail and continued to glare at us with icy, hazel eyes. When I tried to brush past her, she slammed her hand against the doorframe and blocked my entrance. Drumming her fingers against the frame, she raised an eyebrow.

  Sighing in exasperation, I said, “Ryder got detention.”

  “That’s Ryder’s excuse, not yours,” Eve snapped. “Give me your reason.”

  “How about that I’m handcuffed to him?” I answered, holding up my wrist for evidence.

  “That’s not all,” she replied, leaning in.