So much stronger.
“Talk more later?” Exie asked.
“Give Sloane my love,” and then I hung up.
I stared into my locker full of books and notebooks and loose papers unseeing for a long time, long after the warning bell rang. Students and teachers rushed past me, the overwhelming noise and bustle of the morning faded away. And only I remained. The hall was empty behind me, everyone else carefully tucked away in homeroom.
Eventually I pulled myself back to reality and picked out my American Civilization book and the corresponding notebook.
Crap. I was late. Again…. Mrs. Tanner was going to have my ass for this.
I slammed my locker shut with as much force as I could muster and then kicked it for good measure. I string of curse words flew from my mouth before I could stop them and my hair came loose from the effort I took to attack my locker. I threw my books down in another attempt at getting rid of the stifling anger boiling inside of me, none of it having to do with tardiness. My pen skittered across the tiled floor and bounced into the opposite bank of lockers.
It was too much. All of it.
Breathing was suddenly difficult, the world fading out around me. My vision narrowed to pinpricks and a high pitched ringing pierced my ears. I was so frustrated. So, tirelessly frustrated. I hated it all…. Nix, my mom, this stupid world I lived in, that my hair had gotten messed up, that I had to care about my hair at all. And now a party? I couldn’t do this.
Some days, after everything I had been through in my life, some days eighteen didn’t feel that far away.
But then there were days like today when eighteen might as well have been eighty and the end was nowhere in sight.
“You alright, Red?” a voice asked from just a few feet away.
I hammered my head back against the lockers before I opened my eyes to meet the voice.
Ryder.
Chapter Eight
“Just fine,” I answered Ryder, not trying to hide the despair choking the life out of me. He wouldn’t care anyway. Actually, he’d probably ignore it completely.
Thank God.
“Sure about that?” He asked with a sarcastic edge to his voice that grated across the space between us.
Today Ryder was wearing a long sleeved gray thermal shirt and dark washed jeans over leather flip flops. His hair was layered carelessly at least a good inch off his forehead, pushed out of the way by an obsessive need to run his hand through it. His gray eyes were gunmetal with concern and he was holding a stack of papers divided up with yellow sticky notes labeling them.
“Yes, I’m sure.” I snapped.
“That’s why you’re at war with your locker instead of in class?” he assessed me judgmentally from where he leaned against the opposite wall. I wanted to think he was joking, but there was nothing light or teasing in his eyes. He was radiating worry and it was driving me crazy with the need to prove I didn’t need him to care about me.
I gave him half a smile anyway for his attempt at humor and then turned away from him so that I could stare down the long hallway. Light from the arched windows skittered across the floor, breaking up the dull florescent lighting that buzzed with the effort to stay on.
“It’s just that… this locker really pisses me off,” I finally admitted.
Ryder choked on surprised laughter and I turned back to face him. His expression had relaxed into amusement and I could finally suck in a much needed breath. “You two should probably get couples’ counseling then, since you have to put up with each other for the rest of the year and all.” He bent over to retrieve my pen before he crossed the hallway in three strides so that we were just inches away from each other. He remained calm and cool, my presence doing none of its usual tricks. So I was even more irritated by how unfair it was that I was struggling to remain indifferent. He was just fine, completely freaking fine. He was like this presence that penetrated every last bit of my consciousness, even his shadow weighed heavily on me, pressing me back into the bank of metal lockers. And his smell, maybe his cologne that clung to his clothes and floated in the air between us was surprisingly delicious and maybe a bit peculiar… like coconut and cookies. It infiltrated every one of my senses until I could barely suppress the need to lean into him and nuzzle against his neck. His smell threw me off. Way off.
“You smell like a girl,” I blurted out a little bit too loud.
Ryder paused, giving me a look of complete confusion, before his lips slowly turned up into an amused grin. “Shut it, Pierce. It’s my shampoo.”
An unexpected giggle burst from my throat and I smacked my hand over my mouth to stop any more foreign sounds from escaping. “Your shampoo?”
“It’s coconut oil,” he admitted, dipping his head as if embarrassed.
“Why?” I asked simply, shaking my head at him.
“Don’t ask questions you’re not prepared to hear the answers to,” Ryder growled ominously, but I could tell he was being sarcastic.
“What does that even mean?” I shook my head at him, laughter bubbling up inside me again.
“I don’t really know,” he laughed too, mimicking the side to side motion of my head. “But I was trying to sound manly again. You know, most girls like it. I usually get complimented.” He finally defended himself with an air of self-importance, crossing his arms across his chest and pulling his t-shirt tight across his pronounced muscles.
My eyes dropped from his silver pools of eyes to his chest for just two and a half seconds before I popped my gaze up hoping he hadn’t noticed. The narrowed slits of his eyes told me there was no chance in hell I got away with checking him out. Shoot.
“I’m not most girls,” I grumbled. I bent over to pick up my books that were strewn in a messy pile at my feet and Ryder held out my pen to me, waiting for me to stand up again.
I heard him mumble, “That is the truth,” under his breath and I whipped up into standing to launch a full-fledged attack on him when I found him grinning at me, completely disarming my intentions. “It’s supposed to be healthy…. like good for me. I was told that it would reduce my uh…. issues with my hair. I’m starting to think the girl who cuts it might actually hate me though.”
It took me until the word “hair” to realize we were talking about his shampoo again and not my issues. When I finally caught up to the conversation I couldn’t stop myself from laughing again. Real laughter, the kind that expanded in my lungs and bubbled out of my mouth like a fountain. The expansion in my chest felt foreign and underused and my lungs ached with the effort, but in a good way…. a really good way.
“Your hair is kind of awful, actually,” I admitted lightly. My fingers were tangled through his coarse locks before I knew what I was doing. My hand slid through his thick, unruly hair, brushing it back from his forehead and testing the rough, bristly texture between my fingertips.
“What?” He gasped with faux defensiveness, his eyes going wide with pretend horror. “You’re not turned on by the sexy bed head look?” He leaned forward and shook his head roughly so that my fingers fell from his hair, displaced and instantly missing the touch.
I only had a second to take in my feelings though when he lifted his head and was just inches from me, closer than we were before…. closer than we had ever been. “I had no idea you were so vain,” I whispered, trying to find the good natured humor that was with us seconds ago.
“I’m not vain,” he narrowed his eyes, but didn’t put any more distance between us. “I’m just…. afraid I will hurt someone if I don’t take proper care of it.”
“Good point,” I agreed, taking a big breath and speaking with more volume so our close proximity didn’t feel so intimate. “Why is it so scratchy?” I laughed at him. “It’s like horse hair!”
“It is not!” he defended himself animatedly and then punched me very gently in the shoulder, pushing my back against the locker, but not in an unkind way. He was gentle, but firm… detached but oh so sexy.
Holy hell.
My breathing was suddenly very shallow…. shaky, pathetically hitched. I ran my tongue along my bottom lip, so aware of every piece of his body and how close we were standing. His hair was lifted from where I ran my fingers through it, casting a shadow over his too pensive eyes. His gaze was smoky and penetrating and I was frozen beneath him in confusion and lust.
“It is,” I argued, but my voice was a shell of its former lightheartedness. “But I understand the coconut now.” I smiled, secretly praying he wouldn’t kiss me…. secretly pleading that he would. And then to force myself into distance, “Probably safer for Kenna that way. Plus, you kind of smell like cookies.”
“At least now you understand,” Ryder smirked, arrogant and cocky, and the spell was broken. He stood up to his full height, towering over me and resonating dispassion. “I suppose you want a pass for class now?”
I gasped as hope and the thrilling feeling of ease swelled in my chest. “You can write me a pass?” There was almost a desperate quality to my voice, I was kind of pitiful. But I had to get my act together here and now, I had to make it through this school year and the next. I couldn’t afford to mess up.
“Office aide, remember? Yesterday you spilled coffee all over me, yelled at me and then out of the very goodness of my heart I wrote you a pass? Any of this ringing a bell?” He was teasing me now, in the same way that made me feel like he planned on keeping a very wide measure of space between us.
Maybe that’s why my heart had relaxed. Ryder was complicated. Too complicated. It was like our powers were reversed. And I didn’t like that at all.
“Oh yes, now I remember!” I grinned at him, snapping my fingers as if in time with the memory. “You will save my life if you can write me a pass today though. I promise if I ask Mrs. Tanner to write one, she’ll expel me instead.”
“Expel you, huh?” Ryder asked from over his shoulder as we made our way down the hallway and to the office.
“Ok, probably not expel me. But definitely try to burn me at the stake,” I mumbled, trying to keep my tone light. Ryder shot me a confused look. “You know, like a witch trial?”
“Ah, but she could probably make a valid case.” Ryder turned his head again, shooting me a very amused grin, but something didn’t quite reach his eyes…. like he almost believed I could be a witch.
I shook my head. It wasn’t possible. Even if thinking I was a witch was completely off base and totally in the realm of crazy, there was no way Ryder could tell I was different. It just wasn’t possible.
I waited outside the office while Ryder ran in to drop off the stack of folders he was holding and retrieve the small yellow notepad that would excuse me from missing nearly all of my first hour class. I watched him, discreetly, or what I hoped was discreetly while he leaned over the tall counter and wrote some lame and untrue excuse down. This view of him was perfection with his back to me and his head bent furtively scrawling in sharpie across the notepad. His shoulders were broad and muscled, his hair just a little long at his collar and the heels of his feet hidden beneath long, tattered hems. A sigh escaped me before I could stop it and I slammed my back into the cold stone wall that lined the halls in between banks of lockers, completely wrecking my view of Ryder and the office.
Grrr.
What was going on with me?
I stared off into space, focusing my gaze on the windowed front doors so that I wouldn’t be tempted to check out Ryder or his delicious ass anymore. Ugh….
Voices and commotion drew my attention to the other end of the hallway when a classroom door banged open and students filed into the corridor. I squinted in an effort to recognize any of them as they walked excitedly in my direction. Chase was somewhere in the middle of the crowd, with Phoenix right at his side and my heart stuttered a little with anxiety. I shook away the feeling of being caught, and tried to convince myself that not only was there nothing going on between Ryder and me, but Chase didn’t really have any claim over me anyway.
If I was my mother or any of the other women in our circle, I would be practically bursting with pride and a reason to make both men jealous. But I was so not them and sickening guilt and shame flushed through my blood like a fast rush of self-loathing.
I put on my best smile and willed my eyes to look happy when Chase and Phoenix slowed down to talk to me. Chase cast a curious, worried glance in the office and I wondered if it was aimed at Ryder or the potential trouble I could be in.
“Hey what are you guys up to?” I asked, drawing Chase’s gaze back to me.
He held up a paper airplane that was being carefully grasped between his thumb and index finger and waved it around. “Physics project,” he explained.
“We’re taking it to the hill,” Phoenix cut in, and nodded with his head toward the front doors of the school that would lead out to sprawling, steep hills on either side of the long staircase and down to Dodge Street.
“Fun,” I drawled unenthusiastically.
“What are you up to?” Chase asked, taking a step closer to me.
I hesitated, while Ryder walked out of the office handing me the pass. It burned in my
fingers, painting me as guilty. Ryder exchanged greetings with his friends completely unfazed with what I was going through. Of course he wouldn’t or shouldn’t feel any of the stirrings of guilt or remorse; we really had done nothing wrong.
“My phone call went long,” I explained not telling a lie, but not exactly telling the truth either…. my specialty. “Ryder was nice enough to write me a pass so I wouldn’t get marked for being late.”
“Aw, that’s nice of you buddy,” Phoenix crooned at Ryder and tried to pinch his cheek.
“Back off, man,” Ryder laughed, smacking away Phoenix’s long, gangly arm.
Their exchange was followed by thirty very awkward seconds of silence while Chase sized Ryder up and shot me a nervous glance that let me know to some men, I still had power. Chase took another step toward me, like he was marking his territory and a flash of panic heated my belly. Not wanting to examine it for too long, or analyze if my reaction had anything to do with Ryder’s watching gaze, I raised my hand in a wave goodbye.
“Well, thanks for the pass Ryder,” I started walking backward, clutching my books to my chest and the thin yellow paper between my fingers tightly. “I better get to class, since I’ve missed so much already. See you guys at lunch.”
I didn’t wait for any response, but turned on my heel and high-tailed it out of there. Ok, weird morning. But at least I had been sufficiently distracted from thoughts of Nix, my mother, or what was waiting for me at home tonight.
Chapter Nine
“Thanks again for the ride,” I offered for the fourth time. Chase sat across the armrest in the driver’s seat of his tan Honda Civic sedan and smiled at me. It was obvious I was stalling, but I was hoping he thought it was just because I wanted to spend time with him.
Which I kind of did. Chase was easy to be around, there was no hidden agenda, no evil plans for my future or even my pants. I could breathe. And breathing was the most important thing in my life right now.
“We could go do something if you’re not ready to go home yet?” he answered back intuitively.
“No, I’m ready,” I whispered weakly and then realized how lame I sounded. “What I mean is that it isn’t that. I just…. um, this is nice.” I motioned back and forth between us with my pointer finger. He grabbed onto it yanked my arm forward playfully. His fingers grazed the inside of my palm slowly, barely touching but capturing all of my attention.
“This is nice,” he gave me his charming smile, the one that melted normal girls’ insides and then somehow, through tricky moves only boys can pull off, his hand was now holding mine. “So tomorrow is Friday….” he started suggestively.
“Finally,” I breathed out in relief because I was supposed to, because it was expected. Every sixteen year old looked forward to the weekend. It was the way of life. But truthfully, with Nix around I preferred to be in school over the fr
eedom of the weekend, not to mention the cocktail party tomorrow night that was bound to leave bone marrow deep scars and painful emotional trauma on my psyche.
“And I was thinking maybe I could take you out….?” He spoke his words slowly, carefully, like he was nervous and unsure. He was adorable, I couldn’t deny that.
“Tomorrow night?” I gulped, wishing more than anything I could say yes. He nodded, while his deep blue eyes begged me to say yes, not to let him down. “I can’t,” I groaned and there was nothing but sincerity behind my tone. “I have this family thing and there’s no way I can miss it.” I pushed out a playful pout and moved my thumb back to graze across the inside of his wrist.
“Oh, bummer,” he replied, equally as sincere.
Chase was so sweet, so super sweet. If I had to suffer through all this dating I was lucky there were guys like Chase out there that made it easier. God knew I had dated some absolute tools in my short lifetime. Chase was an exception to the rule and one that I wouldn’t be able to hold on to for long. And I hated to disappoint him, but our reasons for wanting to go out tomorrow night were completely different. I wanted to escape the crazy, f-ed up world I lived in and he couldn’t help himself but be attracted to me. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t totally sincere either.
“But I’m free Saturday night,” I offered with a small smile. My thoughts flickered to Sam and how sweet he had been at first. I couldn’t let that happen with Chase, I couldn’t ruin his life because I was selfish, because I was fundamentally and forever screwed up. My throat started to close at the memory, my heart pounded painfully against my aching chest, echoing loudly in my ears. Damn it. I shouldn’t have even thought his name.
“Saturday works,” he smiled but with less enthusiasm. “Do you care though if we go to a party? I promised Phoenix I would stop by at his thing Saturday night while his parents are at some bizarre-o nudist colony.”
The Rush (The Siren Series) Page 7
