Before Ryan Was Mine (The Remembrance Trilogy - Prequel)

by Kahlen Aymes

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s hideous!”

  “Some of us aren’t as vain as others,” I shot back as we started to walk toward the large revolving doors that would take us out to the curb, silently dreading wearing the horrible thing. “You said it was going to be a blizzard here. I didn’t think we’d do much beyond making a snowman in your backyard.”

  “Well, I certainly wouldn’t lose you in that, even in a whiteout. Here comes my mom.”

  A sleek silver Lexus stopped and Ryan went around the back to deposit my bag in the trunk as a slender woman in a long black cashmere coat and black leather gloves emerged from behind the wheel. I didn’t find similarities in their features, but her blue eyes and sandy hair were identical to her son’s. She was impeccably groomed, which only made my unkempt appearance more annoying.

  “Julia, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Ryan’s mother, Elyse.” She embraced me warmly as the cold Chicago wind whipped around us and blew my long hair across my face. It felt like I was being stabbed with icicles. I began to shiver and my teeth started chattering. I tried to smile through it all, hesitating to put on the ugly coat.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Matthews. Sorry for the short notice.”

  She whisked my objection away with a casual wave of her hand. “It’s no trouble at all, and you must call me Elyse. Ryan, you drive, darling. I want to get acquainted with your friend.” She tossed Ryan the keys before he handed me my coat then held open the back passenger-side door and ushered me inside.

  The drive and shopping trip proved to be a lot of fun, and I found an easy camaraderie with Ryan’s mom. She was warm, easygoing, and very welcoming. She chatted on about Ryan and Aaron, the tree house they built in the backyard with their dad when they were ten, and how Ryan broke his arm when he fell out of it the following spring. Overall, there weren’t many embarrassing things I’d be able to tease Ryan with when the need arose to blackmail him, but things changed that night at dinner.

  “Ryan, have you bought any whores yet?” his father asked with a laugh.

  I gasped and some of the roast beef I’d been eating got sucked into my lungs. I began coughing uncontrollably, covering my mouth with the fine linen napkin that had been resting in my lap. My eyes began to tear as my chest convulsed painfully.

  “Jesus, Dad!” Ryan admonished, pushing back his chair and pounding on my back. “Sorry, Jules, it’s a joke.”

  Elyse rose from her chair and rounded the table toward the two of us, the tears in my eyes increasing as I struggled to regain my breath between coughing spurts. She picked up the glass of ice water next to my plate and offered it to me. I coughed again, wiped my tears and reached for it. I was acutely conscious of Ryan’s hand rubbing back and forth over my back between my shoulder blades.

  “I’m so sorry, Julia. I often tease Ryan about his whores.” The handsome face, so similar to his son’s, flashed a full grin as I finally took my seat again. I raised my eyebrow at Ryan who ran his hand through his hair. His agitation was clear.

  “Gabe, explain to the poor girl,” Elyse insisted.

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “Or not,” he insisted forcefully.

  “No, I’d like to hear this,” I said with a laugh, then flushed when Ryan shot me a warning look. I guess he didn’t think it was funny, but I sure as hell did.

  His father burst out laughing. “I like this girl, son. She’s smart.”

  “Smart ass, you mean.”

  “Ryan and Aaron went to summer camp for two weeks every summer from the age of seven. It had horseback riding, canoeing and a lot of other fun stuff. Ryan particularly liked the horses and he’d write home telling us he’d like to buy a horse, only he spelled it H O R E S, so it’s been an ongoing joke. Ryan and his whores.”

  “Oh, my God!” I laughed out loud. “Awww!” I reached out and pushed against his arm roughly. “I guess not much has changed, huh?” I asked my friend.

  “Nice, Julia.” Ryan looked annoyed.

  “Well?” I teased.

  “Jealous?”

  “In your dreams.”

  Four eyes bore into me as they waited for an explanation. “Um, well, it’s just that Ryan dates a bunch, um… uh, a lot of girls like him.”

  Elyse rescued me from embarrassing myself further. “He’s always had a bevy of girlfriends, but we’ve yet to meet anyone he’s serious about. Only one he dated more than a month. Ryan, do you still keep in touch with Jennifer?”

  “Mom!”

  “What?” she asked, setting down her wine glass. “Surely it’s nothing your best friend wouldn’t already know.”

  “Can we just not… talk about that stuff? Please?” Ryan begged. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his face taking on a reddish-pink hue.

  The truth was, I was feeling the pain as well. We never seemed to get around to talking about the past much, not when it came to relationships. We always focused on the present, but this particular conversation put me in a weird place. Of course, my subconscious knew he’d had at least one major girlfriend in his past. He was funny, smart and gorgeous. I wasn’t stupid, but somehow I’d managed to keep the thought buried in the back of my mind. I glanced in Ryan’s direction out of the corner of my eye. He was staring down at his plate.

  After dinner, Ryan and I helped with the dishes without a lot of conversation and I started to wonder if maybe coming to Chicago was a bad idea. He stacked the last of the plates into the dishwasher after I’d rinsed them, then nodded in the direction of the stairs and I followed him to his room.

  “Don’t make fun of me,” he said with a slight smile and went into his room ahead of me. He turned on a bedside lamp and the television on the wall opposite the double bed.

  “What are best friends for?” I asked. I always thought of Ryan as my best friend, but it’s never something we’d said to each other, nor had I ever heard him refer to me as such, but apparently he’d said it to his mother and I wanted him to know I caught it.

  He flopped down on his bed as I glanced around his room. I could see his eyes follow me as I checked out the trophies and the photographs. I saw one of Ryan in a black tux with a blonde girl in a bright pink, sequined dress and guessed that must be the infamous Jennifer. He looked so handsome, and the girl gazed up into his face adoringly as Ryan looked at the camera. Thank God, he wasn’t wearing some ridiculous bright pink tie and cummerbund but had chosen classic all the way. He looked perfect and I could barely rip my eyes away from the photo.

  I sensed his hesitation; my face burned and my lungs felt on fire. I inhaled, trying to ease the heat and calm the weird emotions racing through me. He studied me intently.

  “What?” I asked, the bed giving softly beneath my weight as I finally sat down next to him.

  “Is that okay?” His jaw stiffened slightly and my eyes skittered over the shadow of whiskers shading it. My heart thumped unexpectedly in my chest. I knew what he wanted to know.

  “Yeah. You are my best friend. Duh.”

  “Yeah. Good.”

  I wanted to put him at ease. “I told your mom I’d help her cook Christmas dinner. Do you have any traditions?”

  “Sure. We have to suffer my dad’s Aunt Mabel’s fruitcake. It’s so disgusting! Dad takes it and practically drowns it in rum to try to make it palatable and it still sucks ass. Don’t eat it, whatever you do.”

  I laughed and grabbed the remote out of his hand. He let me take it without protest. “Doesn’t your mother make your favorite dessert?”

  “No. She said it’s not holiday-ish.”

  “Hmmm. I always make my dad cake and prime rib for Christmas.”

  He watched me with sparkling eyes. “I like strawberry cheesecake, but that sounds delicious, too. What is it?”

  I flipped from channel to channel and shrugged.

  “Chocolate cake soaked with cherry liqueur, filled with cherries, whipped cream and chocolate shavings. It’s a lot of work, but it’s super yummy.”

  “Sounds g
ood.”

  “Yeah, I know. It is.” Tongue in cheek I waited for him to ask. He would ask. I would make him ask. The seconds ticked by, both of us staring at the T.V. without speaking. Finally, he caved.

  “Will you make them and save me from the gross fruitcake?”

  “I don’t know. Your mom’s right. Cheesecake isn’t Christmas-y. Strawberries are out of season.” I said, training my eyes on the T.V. and waiting, baiting Ryan more as I rattled off reasons not to make his beloved cheesecake.

  Ryan huffed and laid down on his bed, finally leaning over and stealing the remote out of my hand. “Fine!” he muttered.

  “Moody much?” My lips crept up at the corners.

  “You tease me with that shit and then renege. Just remember, payback’s a bitch.”

  I bit my lip to stop a laugh. “Fuck you. You called me a bloated grape! So what was it you were saying about payback?”

  “Your ticket was $636 dollars and change. I take cash or check.” His elbow nudged my arm as he shifted again then leaned into me as the channel settled onto HBO. The Bill Murray version of “A Christmas Carol” was just starting.

  “Okay, I’ll make it if you’ll stop pouting already. But, you have to go to the store and buy the stuff.”

  “What?” he asked incredulously, a beautiful smile lighting up his face. “The fucking thing already cost me $636!”

  A laugh erupted from my chest, and Ryan joined me. “It’ll be worth every cent.”

  “It already is.”

  Christmas break sped by after Julia came to Chicago. I actually regretted that it was over. We stayed up most of the night playing video games and watching old movies. I’d considered that spending so much time together, day-in and day-out, we might get sick of each other. Didn’t happen.

  Now we were at O’Hare and my mother was dropping us off at the curb. Julia was wrapped in my leather jacket because I’d thrown that purple atrocity in the trash the second day after she arrived. We’d been dumped on by a foot and a half of lake effect snow and stayed in practically the entire time. Except when we went snowmobiling on Sunday.

  Julia stood there in quiet acquiescence as I pulled two of my sweaters over her head, one after the other, and gave her a pair of my old sweats to wear over her jeans for added warmth. The spare ski gloves I found were way too big for her small hands, but they, along with the layers, my mother’s parka, and a cashmere scarf my grandmother brought back for me from Germany, kept her warm enough. Her green eyes peeking out of the scarf that was securely wrapped around her head and over her mouth, rolled at me.

  “I look like the Stay Puff marshmallow man. Only in color,” she’d mumbled through the fine wool.

  “And cuter.”

  “Whatever, Matthews.”

  I hugged my mom goodbye, leaving her to gush over Julia while I retrieved our luggage from the trunk. “Come back and see us again, sweetheart. We loved having you, and Gabe won’t stop raving about your cooking.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I really appreciated being with your family.”

  “Next time I see you, I don’t want to hear any of that ma’am stuff. Got it?”

  Julia smiled. My mother cupped my cheek and stood on tiptoe to kiss me one last time. “Take care, son. Have Aaron call me.”

  “I will. Don’t get a ticket.” I nodded at the policeman on the sidewalk. He was walking two cars down from where I’d parked the car.

  She nodded and opened her door. “Have a safe flight and—”

  “—Call when we get down. I know.” Julia stood with her arms crossed over her chest, trying not to shiver, so I tried to hurry. “Bye,” I said and turned with Julia to go through the sliding glass doors into the terminal.

  “Ryan, that bag dude was waiting.” Julia looked up at me as she walked by my side, unraveling the scarf from around her head. Her hair was full of static electricity and many of the long, dark strands stood out from her head.

  I screwed up my face. “So? We need to check in at the counter.”

  “Why?” She half-stopped, turned and pointed back in the direction we came.

  “Just… come on.”

  I had both of our bags and she followed two feet behind me as I looked at my options. I picked out a particularly pretty and young-looking woman checking bags at one end of the United counter and got in her line.

  “Ryan, that line is shorter.” Julia indicated another as I passed it.

  “Just… shh.” I grinned. She was looking at me like I was mental.

  When it was our turn, I turned over my driver’s license. “Do you have bags to check?” She was pretty, with bright pink cheeks, and shoulder-length hair that bobbed when she moved or talked.

  “No. It’s a carry-on. But, I’m traveling with my friend, and we booked our tickets at different times.” I laid a smooth smile on her. “We’d really like to sit together, if possible. Could you reassign our seats?”

  She began typing quickly. “May I see the young lady’s ID?”

  Julia handed it over, glancing at me through hooded eyes.

  “Most of the seats are full, sir.”

  “Please?” I asked. “I have a nut allergy, and planes have nuts and she knows how to administer epinephrine, in case I have an attack.”

  The woman stopped typing and looked me straight in the eye, her own narrowing just a bit.

  “Ryan,” Julia began, and I squeezed her hand to cut her off.

  “Yes, sir. It seems I do have two in first class. But that’s it.”

  “Okay.” I whipped out my wallet. “How much more is it?”

  “I’ll go ahead and just upgrade you. Since it’s a medical emergency.” She shot me a small wink.

  “Unbelievable,” Julia snorted.

  The desk attendant printed off two boarding passes and soon we were on the way to the gate.

  “You’re welcome,” I gloated, a smug smile playing on my lips.

  “There’s no room for me in first class with you and your ego!”

  When we got to security, I kicked off my shoes and dumped them in one of those gray bins. We both had laptop computers and had to take them out of the bags and place them in two of their own tubs. I tossed both bags up and pushed them toward the conveyor, watching Julia go through the security X-ray machine. She collected her things, stowed her laptop again, and was already putting her shoes back on by the time I got through and grabbed my bag.

  I looked at the sour look on her face. “Why are you pissed? Now we can sit together.”

  “You’re a shitty liar, Ryan.” She put her bag on the chair next to the one I was sitting on as I tied my shoes. She used her thumb and index finger on one hand to grab the tip of her tongue.

  “I hav ah nu allery,” she mocked a swollen tongue, and again rolled her big green eyes. “As if batting your eyes like Shirley Temple wasn’t enough.” She referenced the little girl from a movie we fell asleep to the night before.

  I burst out laughing, as did the two people sitting next to me on the opposite side.

  “Who’s Shirley Temple, again?” I asked in fake innocence, still chuckling. I dug my boarding pass out of my back pocket and checked our gate.

  “It’s sickening. It’s like you have some sort of poison love potion that wafts around you and works on anyone with a vag.”

  I couldn’t stop smiling. I loved that she thought I had some magical power over women. It made me puff up like a peacock.

  “Why doesn’t it work on you, then?” I leaned down and blew on the side of her face.

  Julia huffed playfully. “Immunity from repetitive small dose exposure over time… Geez. Some doctor you’re gonna be!”

  I laughed and nudged her shoulder as our gate finally came into view. “Shut up. I don’t want to put up with your whining for three hours.”

  She was smiling when we found two chairs by a window and sat down. I went to get us drinks and by the time I returned, she was looking through the Stanford spring semester course catalogue. A guy sitting acros
s from her was checking her out, but Julia was completely immersed in figuring out her schedule. Registrations were due by Monday at noon.

  I twisted the bottle cap off of the green tea I’d purchased for her and took a swig before handing it over. Her hand took the bottle and she drank from it without looking up. I took the chair next to her, leaning in, shoulders touching, to see what she was looking at. I tossed a hooded glance at the guy across the aisle as I opened my own drink.

  “Is there anything in there we can take together?”

  Julia looked up and turned her face toward me. She held her bottle close to her chest, her arm curled in, the neck of the bottle resting on her lower lip. “Really?” she asked softly, almost as if she didn’t think I was serious.

  “Yeah. I’ll miss seeing you in psych.”

  A little crinkle appeared above her nose as she frowned. “We see each other all the time, Ryan.”

  “I know. But I’m sort of used to you now, and this might be the last semester we’ll be able to have a class together. Once electives and base recs are done.”

  “Afraid my immunity will wear off?”

  My lips twitched and one corner lifted in half smile. “Something like that.”

  “Well, I think we should see what time we both have open then look for something in that time slot.”

  “Sounds good.” I had a heavy math and science load in front of me for the next three years, and beyond six hours of electives and the basic liberal arts stuff, it was pretty much mapped out. But I wanted a class with her. Even if I had to take more hours than I needed.

  It wasn’t long before we both had our schedules lined up, with an English lit class together at 11 AM on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

  “Reading and writing. I can handle that,” I teased. They began boarding our flight and Julia stuffed it all back in her bag. We settled into our first class seats, both tired from the night before, and I began to drift, my eyes heavy. Her perfume was familiar and comforting and it wasn’t long before I felt her head drop onto my shoulder.