by Linda Kage
“My…my what?” I pressed my hand against my chest where a gold chain usually hung around my throat. When I realized I was still wearing Ryder’s coat, I hurried to shrug it off.
Ryder frowned. “Your necklace,” he repeated. “The one your stepdad gave to you for no reason at all. You haven’t worn it since after the night at the bowling alley.”
“I…” I shook my head. How did he know that? How did he know to ask about that, of all things? “I have no idea where it is,” I lied. “It’s not like I wear it all the time.”
Ryder’s face turned dark with anger. “Yes, you do,” he snapped, surging to his feet. “You wore that thing every freaking day until that night. I want to know what’s going on. You show up at my house, freezing to death and crying, looking for Todd. It doesn’t take a genius to see something horrible just happened. So what did he do to you?”
I just stared up at him, stunned. “I…” Shaking my head frantically, I fumbled. “Todd didn’t do anything.”
Ryder stormed over to stand above me, looming close enough I had to look up to see his narrowed eyes. “Not Todd. Your stepfather.”
My mouth fell open.
“What…did…he…do…to you?”
“How did you…” I shook my head for probably, like, the tenth time in the past thirty seconds. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ryder sighed and spun away to hiss a curse under his breath.
When he calmed himself again, he came back around to eye me warily. “Look. I know something happened, and it has to do with Dr. Struder.”
I just stared at him, the muscles in my face growing tighter and tighter. “You’re wrong,” I whispered just as a quivering tear seeped out of the corner of my eye.
Ryder fisted his hand and brought it to his mouth as he returned the stare. “No, I’m not,” he whispered back.
“Everything’s fine.” I tried one, last feeble attempt to convince him.
He snorted. “You wouldn’t have left your house without a coat if everything was fine. You wouldn’t be here right now if everything was fine. You wouldn’t have accepted my invitation to stay if everything was fine.” With each sentence, his volume inched higher and higher until he was nearly yelling.
I glanced worriedly toward the closed bedroom door, hoping he hadn’t just woken his parents.
With a disgusted sigh, he gave up on me and moved to his dresser. He yanked the second drawer open and barked, “Okay, Fine. Don’t tell me. I have enough problems of my own right now. I don’t want to deal with your messed up life too.”
He grabbed a hold of a shirt and spun around, holding it out to me. I winced, but Ryder just kept holding it, sending me a stony glare. When I realized he had no intention of smacking me with the shirt, I straightened and looked up at him with a questioning squint.
“You want something to sleep in?” he asked. “Or do you want to sleep in that?”
His gaze roved over my body, taking in my soaked wet blouse and ripped-in-the-knees jeans. It definitely wasn’t an outfit I’d ever slept in before. When I didn’t immediately take the wad of clothing from him, he tossed it onto the bed beside me with a grumble under his breath.
“You want me to take you somewhere, I’ll take you somewhere. If you want to leave, you can do that. I don’t care. Just make up your mind.”
He spun away as if he were finished with me. My mouth trembled as he muttered, “If you want to go back home to stepdaddy, then that’s just dandy with me too.”
Panic beat in a fluttery pulse through my neck. “You said I could stay.”
“Then stay,” Ryder hissed. He flopped onto the couch and ripped off his shoes and socks. After he finished savagely removing his footwear, the rage in him seemed to droop. He lowered his head and hugged his ribs as if it were everything he could do to keep his heart and soul from spilling out of his body. Then he ran a hand over his dry face and lifted his eyes to look across the room at me.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a defeated voice. “I shouldn’t be nasty to you just because I’m in a nasty mood. There’s a bathroom right there if you need it.” He pointed to an open doorway. “There’s a cup on the counter I use when I brush my teeth if you need a drink. And here’s my phone if you want to call anyone.” He set it carefully on the table by his couch, letting me take note where he set it.
After that, he slumped lengthways across on the couch and crossed one foot over the other ankle as he stared up at the ceiling. I sat perfectly still for about ten seconds, not quite sure what to do. But Ryder’s anger seemed to be spent.
He confused me. Why did he want to help me so much? Why had he been paying so much attention to me to notice a missing necklace?
I peeked his way, but he remained motionless, lying stone still and staring up at the ceiling with his forearm thrown over his face.
I wondered if he was thinking about Todd and Kiera, about what he’d seen. I knew he probably wanted to be alone. I had to be the last person on earth he wanted to witness his agony. But returning to Barry’s house put a fear in my chest that kept me sitting exactly where I’d planted myself.
Slowly, I reached over and wrapped my fingers around the shirt he’d not so graciously given to me. I inched to my feet and crept to the bathroom. Inside, I hugged myself and cried a little more. It felt better to think about teenage problems, so I thought about Todd and Kiera. And Ryder.
Poor Ryder.
I wasn’t that upset about Todd. On the plus side, I no longer felt guilty about using him to get out of my house. Kind of wished he’d never kissed me though.
He didn’t own the only pair of lips I hadn’t wanted near me.
Remembering the other set, I scrubbed at my mouth and hurried to Ryder’s sink. As soon as I fired up the faucet, I washed my entire face, took Ryder’s toothpaste and rapidly brushed my teeth with my finger, hoping to wash away the impression Barry had left. I almost gagged as I thought about it.
The words he’d confessed to me through the doorway of my room kept stealing back into my head and haunting me. He’d wanted me since we’d first met. Dear Lord, he hadn’t even been married to my mother then. Had he only married her to get to me?
And all this time, she’d been so happy with him. How could anyone betray my mother like that?
More tears fell. I spent about fifteen minutes in the bathroom, trying to get myself put back together. When I exited, only one light remained on, a night light by Ryder’s bed. He’d thrown the covers back over his mattress in a sloppy attempt to re-make his bed and then taken one of his pillows; it currently rested under his head on his couch. An extra blanket lay draped over his waist.
The bed was empty for me to use if I wanted it. Other than that, it appeared Ryder hadn’t moved at all. He was still sprawled exactly where he’d been before, staring blankly up at the ceiling with his arm splashed over his forehead. He didn’t glance my way or even acknowledge my entrance as I opened the bathroom door.
I didn’t want to sleep in his bed. I would’ve rather taken his couch. But I wasn’t going to complain, in fear he’d throw me out altogether. After turning off the bathroom light, I tiptoed to the bed, set my clothes and shoes on the floor next to it, and crawled under his sheets.
It felt strange invading someone else’s sleep space. But it was oddly comforting. I pulled the blankets up to my neck and reached out an arm to click off the night light. There I lay, afraid to move.
Ryder rustled around on the couch. Everything remained so unreal. I was in the bed of some boy who only a few weeks ago had been like an untouchable Hollywood actor to me, my “wonderful” stepfather had put the moves on me, my mother and I weren’t talking, my best friends had forgotten about me, and my non-boyfriend was cheating on me.
For some reason, I wanted to laugh. This had to be the worst day of my life, or better yet, the worst few hours of my life. I lay there, actually getting warm and cozy in Ryder’s bed, and realized there was no way I was going to get any kind of s
leep. I was completely exhausted, my body was pooped, but my mind raced a million miles per minute.
From across the room, I heard a sniff. Two sniffs later, I deduced Ryder was probably crying.
And why shouldn’t he? His best friend and his girlfriend had just stabbed him in the back.
I would’ve thought that with my own problems, I wouldn’t care about anyone else, but I felt bad for Ryder. So very bad. He’d been nice to me tonight…in a rude sort of way. He’d been willing to take me somewhere and get me help, he’d let me stay here and he’d tried, desperately, to find out what was wrong. He wasn’t a bad person; he certainly didn’t deserve such treachery from two of the closest people in his life.
I wished I could do something to make him feel better. I’d never liked Kiera and honestly thought Ryder would be better off without her, and without Todd too. Todd seemed about as superficial as Kiera did. But I figured Ryder wouldn’t appreciate a good-riddance-to them kind of comment.
When I heard him move—a sound like he was sitting up—I froze. The shuffle of feet on the carpet caused me to go stiff. Oh Lord, what if he was coming toward the bed? What if he was no better than Barry?
Light footsteps moved across the room, but they moved away not toward me before the bathroom door clicked shut. The light came on inside; a line of brightness silhouetted the door through the crack around the edges. Water, probably in the sink, began to run.
I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the flowing water and feeling like a heel. Had I really just feared Ryder would try something wicked? Barry had not only taken gross advantage of me, but he’d ruined my perception of everyone else.
It made me mad. I told myself right then, he would have no more of that kind of control over me. I would listen to my own instincts—not my paranoia—when it came to trusting others.
Half an hour later, I realized water still ran in the bathroom. My anger morphed into fear. What was Ryder doing in there? It wasn’t the shower water, but sounded like a sink faucet, so he wasn’t bathing. It was more like he was trying to muffle the sound of what he was really doing.
I didn’t pause to wonder whether he might be undressed or exposed in anyway, which is what I should’ve thought since he was in a bathroom. I was too worried, imagining all sorts of horrors. What if he was overdosing or cutting his wrists? He’d just witnessed the ultimate betrayal from his best friend and girlfriend. He could be doing anything.
Really working myself into a tizzy, I flew out of bed and rushed barefoot to the bathroom door. I pressed my ear to the wood. For a moment, I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the water, and then a muted noise hit my ears. It sounded faintly like the moan of a wounded animal.
That was enough warning for me. My hand snaked out, searching for the doorknob in the dark. I twisted and pushed my way inside.
I was expecting blood or worse.
I was not expecting to find him hunkered down and sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and his knees propped up toward his chin. He cradled his head in his hands, sniffing and trembling.
Lifting his head as I opened the door, he showed me his face, his cheeks blistering red and his eyes filled with moisture that glistened as the vanity lights caught his tears.
Eyes growing leery and frightened like a cornered creature, he started to stand, looking as if he wanted to flee, yet there was nowhere for him to go. I literally had him cornered.
“Ryder.” My voice cracked with sympathy as my heart beat in my throat.
I let go of the door handle and rushed inside, dropping onto my hands and knees on the cold tile before him where he’d already slid back down to sit once more.
He wouldn’t meet my gaze, and stared adamantly at nothing over my shoulder. “I don’t…” he said and had to stop to sniff and shudder out a labored breath.
When he shifted his tragic gaze to me, my own tears gushed.
“I can’t…” he tried again, but it was impossible for him to complete a sentence.
Leaning forward, I hugged him. He went rigid and stiff for about two seconds before his body gave a final shudder, then he melted, going noodle limp as he gripped handfuls of the back of the shirt I wore.
I let him grieve his fill, soaking my shoulder with tears as he poured out his misery. He’d already been at this for half an hour and he went for another ten minutes more. When he finally settled to the occasional sniffle, he drooped, completely drained, and wilted against me.
“I don’t even know why I’m so upset.” He wiped at his cheeks.
I helped him, dabbing a few drops he missed with my fingers. “Because you feel duped, stupid, humiliated, betrayed, hurt. Should I go on?”
He let out a breath. “I think I’m more shocked than anything. And I don’t know why. This is exactly the kind of thing Stangman would do. Kiera too. Actually, I should be grateful he took her off my hands. I mean, I didn’t like her that much. We never talked, didn’t even spend time alone together. She only really acted interested when we were with a big group. I think mostly she just wanted to be seen with me for appearance’s sake.”
“So, you’re saying she was using you,” I asked, lifting my eyebrows as I remembered a certain lecture from him about what Todd was doing to me. “And you just let her?”
He paused and stared at me. I could tell the moment he realized what I’d implied because he lifted an eyebrow. “Okay, Ms. Kettle, are you calling me black?”
My insides swelled with joy because he’d actually caught my meaning. “No, I’m the pot. You’re the kettle.”
Together, we burst into huge grins.
But about as soon as he started, his smile faded. “Grace,” he whispered my name.
My throat went dry; I couldn’t answer.
But he went on anyway. “I’m glad I finally know your name.”
Yet that’s not what he meant. From the serious expression on his face, I could tell he really meant he was glad to know me, the person.
I licked my dehydrated lips, feeling the same way. His eyes lowered to watch my tongue. I knew what he wanted and everything inside me wanted it too.
My senses went on ultra-alert. I grew suddenly very aware of everything. The cool of his tile floor soaking up through my clothes and chilling my backside. The warmth of Ryder as I sat pressed against him, our knees touching as we leaned on each other with our feet stretched out in front of us. The smell of his soap and shampoo filling the bright bathroom.
He wanted to kiss me. He was going to kiss me. Beginning to tilt his head down, aligning our mouths, he moved in for the kill. I wanted it, wanted it so bad I found myself tipping my head back and lifting my mouth to meet his. From the first moment we’d met, we’d been working toward this moment. And for once, the person who wanted to kiss me was the very person I wanted to kiss back.
So what did I do?
The old not-interested act.
No, I didn’t actually yank back and say, “Not interested,” I sort of just froze and whispered, “Don’t kiss me.”
He halted three inches away from making contact. I had a very up-close look into his eyes as they crinkled with pain. Worried he was going to cry again, I reached out and touched his cheek, needing to explain.
“This has been the worst night of my life,” I said. “No matter how much times passes, I’ll always look back and remember how much awful stuff has happened in the past few hours. And I refuse to spoil our first kiss with all that filth surrounding it. Kissing you should be full of nothing but amazing memories.”
Ryder closed his eyes and lowered his face until he rested his forehead against my temple. I stole the moment to smooth my fingers over his cheek. The bristly feel of beard stubble surprised me. We were grown-ups, yet still children, and yet neither, stuck in that space between infancy and adulthood, confusing and murky, where some tried to grow up too fast, others too slow, and the rest of us were wedged in the middle, not sure which way to go.
“Will you ev
er tell me what happened to you tonight?” Ryder asked into the bathroom where the trickle of water still running in the sink muted the sound of our constant sniffling.
I stared at the shower curtain hiding the inside of his bathtub. “I don’t think I can talk about it tonight. It’s still too…”
“Fresh?”
Exactly.
He winced as he pulled back enough to look deep into my eyes and seemed to inspect my soul for damage. “But you’re sure you’re okay?”
With a nod and a forced smile, I assured him. “I’m fine now. I think I just…overreacted.”
Except I hadn’t. Barry had kissed me. No matter how I looked at it, that’s what had happened.
As the questions and uncertainties rolled through me, the fear and pain crept back into my system. Shutting all those thoughts down, I focused on Ryder and took in his worried gaze as he watched me.
We really needed to get off the bathroom floor before my frozen butt went numb.
Without speaking a word, I pushed to my feet and held a hand down to him. He mutely took my fingers and pulled himself upright, blindly letting me lead him to…wherever.
After shutting off the faucet, I took him to his bed.
When I pulled the sheets back for him, he automatically slid under the covers. The light from the bathroom filtered over his face. I watched him stare up at me with red, puffy eyes and the most solemn, heart-rending expression. As I tucked the blankets in around him, he continued to watch me.
“Thank you,” he said before letting out a long sigh and closing his eyes.
I nodded and made my way to the couch.
Chapter 21
I have no hue. I’m colorless, invisible. My mother looks right through me, refuses to stop and listen to what I’m not saying.
* * * *
Warm and cozy, I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to open my eyes to a new day, didn’t want to face reality. But it was morning and I needed to get home. Mom was probably freaking out, wondering where I was.
