The Problem with Forever

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The Problem with Forever Page 13

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  felt like I was still cowering in the back of the closet, listening to the sound of fists slamming into flesh.

  I thought briefly of the boy spray-painted on the warehouse wall and the things Rider had talked about. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who still fought that battle.

  I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. “He has...a girlfriend.”

  Her brows climbed up over her sunglasses. “Okay.” There was a pause. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but what does that have to do with anything? I mean, you guys just reconnected and all.”

  “I know, and I’m not saying that him having...a girlfriend is the issue,” I explained, and it wasn’t. Well, obviously I was noticing Rider in a way that was more than just friendly, because who wouldn’t, but I knew he didn’t see me that way. Never had, never would, girlfriend or not. I couldn’t even entertain the idea of him reciprocating so much as a fraction of those more-than-friendly feelings. “It’s that I don’t think she’s too happy with Rider and me...reconnecting.”

  “How so?”

  I told Ainsley about the way Paige had talked to me at the locker and what she’d said to me in class when Rider hadn’t shown the second time.

  “Yikes.” Her brows knitted. “Part of me can understand why she wouldn’t be a fan of yours. You come out of nowhere and he’s thrilled to see you. That’s got to be hard to deal with.”

  “I know.”

  “But you guys are old friends, so she needs to deal with it. And it sounds like Rider wants you in his life. The first thing he did the moment he got a chance was to hug you?” When I nodded, she continued. “And then he showed up to your house one day, followed you out of class when you freaked.”

  Ainsley didn’t mince words.

  “Then he took you to this awesome place and showed you his artwork—super-cool artwork, might I just add. So he really wants you involved in his life. She’s going to need to cope.”

  I nodded slowly.

  A moment passed and then she asked gently, “How are you handling things with him being around? I know he was a big part of your past.”

  She sounded so much like Rosa. “I’m okay.”

  “You sure?”

  I nodded again. She stared at me for a moment and then she dropped it. We’d been friends long enough for her to know when I wasn’t going to talk about something.

  Ainsley respected that.

  I looked over toward the fair, seeing the Rivases checking out a stand of used books. Carl held Rosa’s hand in one of his and in the other, he held a book. I smiled and then looked back at Ainsley. “How...how are you and Todd?”

  They were pretty serious. Well, at least I thought so since they’d had sex. I’d figured sex officially made things serious. She had told me that it had been pretty awkward but not bad. Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but now that I was thinking about sex, I thought of Rider.

  And whoa, that came out of freaking nowhere.

  But while I didn’t have an ounce of experience, Ainsley had told me everything and I had a vivid imagination. And also an internet connection, so...

  I was now picturing those broad shoulders, but with no shirt, and from his hugs, I could tell that he was fit. Electricity invaded my veins, and I suddenly wished I was wearing a tank top and shorts. I was hot and I wondered if he—

  Oh my gosh, I really needed to stop. My cheeks were burning, and thank God, Ainsley was watching a guy jog by. A shirtless guy. Who was also fit.

  “It’s good. I haven’t seen him much since school is back on.” She shrugged, not sounding all that disappointed. “He’s obsessing over colleges right now. It’s all he talks about.”

  I knew Ainsley planned to go to University of Maryland, same as me. I had already gotten early acceptance to the college, and her parents had gone there, but I wasn’t sure about Todd. “What...college?”

  “Oh, about a million of them.” Even though I couldn’t see her eyes, I knew she rolled them. “I think he wants to go someplace up north. He thinks he’s going to get into an Ivy League School. I know this sounds mean, but he’s not that smart.”

  I’d met Todd once, and while I wasn’t sure about his intellectual status, I thought he was a pretty okay guy. I also thought he probably thought I was on the lower end of the cool scale.

  “Ugh,” she muttered, stretching out her legs. “He wants me to go to the movies tomorrow with his friends.”

  Yikes. I’d heard enough of Ainsley’s rants to know that wasn’t good.

  “And I cannot come up with a good excuse to back out, because he knows I’ll take any chance to get out of the house.” She paused, looking at me. “Can we pretend you have chicken pox and I need to take care of you?”

  I laughed.

  Ainsley sighed. “Guess not. I just... I hate his friends. They all think they’re better and smarter than me, because I’m homeschooled. They constantly make these comments suggesting how hard it must be for me to socialize with ‘normal’ people. You know what?”

  I raised my brows.

  “It is hard for me to socialize with them, because I’m pretty sure most of them sincerely believe that the First Amendment actually means they can say anything they want without consequences. Like no, that does not protect your butt when you say something ignorant on Facebook and end up getting kicked off the football team or whatever!”

  My lips twitched.

  She threw up her hands, and I hid a smile. “That’s not how that works, you know? It is not a free pass. Do you know, one of his friends last week actually argued with me about that? He was all like, let me wannabe mansplain this to you while incorrectly explaining the First Amendment. He was trying to tell me that it meant he could say whatever he wanted to say, because it was his opinion and it was protected. Free speech, he yelled. Um, maybe from the government, but not from anything else when it comes down to it. I was like, is he for real?”

  At least I wasn’t thinking about sex anymore.

  “Besides the fact that not all speech is protected in the first place, I’m pretty sure our founding fathers stated it pretty damn clearly.” She drew in a sharp breath. “Oh my God, I’m like that insurance commercial. I want to scream, ‘This is not how this works! This is not how any of this works!’ Look, shout your opinions from the rooftops, but please, dear Lord, stop thinking the First Amendment is going to protect you from losing your job or from getting kicked out of a frat house. Or—or! From other people having a difference in opinion.”

  Ainsley was entertaining a future in law.

  “And yeah, I can speak three languages fluently,” she continued. “But they want to treat me like I’m some kind of simpleton, just because I’m homeschooled.” Her shoulders slumped. “I hate saying this, but I...I don’t like them.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  She shook her head, and long straight strands of hair flew in the wind. “It’s whatever. I’ll deal.”

  Ainsley would. She always did.

  After a few moments, she said, “Oh, man, I have such a headache.” Lifting her hand, she rubbed her brow, above her left eye. “I don’t know if it’s stress over tomorrow or sinuses or my eyeballs or what.”

  My brows furrowed. “Your...eyes have been...bothering you a lot lately.”

  “Have they?” Her lips pursed. “I guess so. I just have crap eyesight. You know that.”

  Did I ever. Ainsley probably should wear her glasses more often, since I had no idea how she saw anything without them. I’d tried them on once, and it was like seeing the world through funhouse mirrors. Once I had asked her why she didn’t wear them, but she swore that she could see, as she put it, what she needed to see.

  Throwing an arm around my shoulders, Ainsley snuggled close, resting her head on my shoulder. “Don’t hate me, ’cause I’m about to bring the conversation back to Rider, but it’s for purely selfish reasons. I hope you guys end up hanging out a lot and then we can double-date. Not that it’d be a date-date, but close enough. Do you know why
I want to double-date with you?”

  My lips kicked up at the corners.

  “Because you’re awesome,” she said, giggling. “And I could use some extra awesome when it comes to Todd.”

  Something occurred to me. “Do you...really like Todd?”

  Ainsley sighed. “Good question. I don’t know. I guess I like him for now, but not for forever.”

  I could’ve told Ainsley that for now was pretty darn good. That none of us knew what the future held. That forever could be yanked out of reach. Instead, I smiled and tried not to picture all the dates she was planning for Rider and me, dates that were never going to happen.

  I was going to give for now a try, myself.

  Chapter 12

  I white-knuckled the drive to school Monday morning, my stomach twisting and churning the entire time. A huge part of me didn’t even want to show up, because what was the point? The deal Carl had made with Mr. Santos meant I wasn’t really pushing myself.

  But I had to go to class. Even if I would only be giving my speeches in front of one person, I had to show my face. If I didn’t, I would be that same girl who could barely look at herself in the mirror, let alone hold a conversation with anyone.

  I thought of Ainsley, of how hard it still was to talk in person to even my closest friend. I loathed that I took shyness to a whole new, crippling level. Shyness wasn’t even the right word, according to Dr. Taft. But it was still what people had always labeled me.

  Mallory was just shy.

  Mallory needed to come out of her shell.

  If I really was in a shell, it was titanium-laced and wrecking ball–proof.

  When I turned the corner leading to my locker, my step stumbled as I saw Paige leaning against it.

  Oh no.

  I had a feeling that her waiting for me wasn’t the same thing as Jayden waiting for me.

  Instinct flared to life, demanding that I turn around and go to class. I didn’t have my morning books, but I could stop by afterward, maybe, and grab them. Or maybe this wasn’t going to end badly. I wanted it not to. I wanted things to be okay between Paige and me. She was important to Rider.

  Paige turned her head, spying me. Too late to run. Or not. I could still run. Her red lips curved into a smirk. “Hey, Mouse.” Rider’s nickname dripped with derision as she pushed off the locker, remaining a few feet in front of it. “I’m kind of surprised you’re here after your little incident in class on Friday.”

  My steps slowed like I was walking through cement. My initial suspicion was correct. This was not going to end well.

  She folded her arms as she eyed me, oblivious to the students stopping around us, watching. Maybe she wasn’t oblivious. Maybe she knew she was drawing the attention of others. My mouth dried.

  “I’m not going to even ask why you freaked out,” she said, raising a honey-colored eyebrow. “I know why. Poor little Mouse doesn’t like to talk.”

  Someone, a girl, laughed. There was a chuckle from a guy. My stomach kept dropping. I could feel my throat closing up.

  Run, that tiny voice in the back of my head screamed. Run away.

  My jaw clamped down with such force a sharp bite of pain lanced across my cheek. Heart pounding like a steel drum, I started to walk around her. Maybe she’d let me get to my locker. If she just wanted to say crap to me, whatever. I’d been on the receiving end of worse. I edged past her and started toward my locker from behind. She couldn’t say anything I hadn’t heard before.

  “I know what you’re up to,” she said, turning to follow me. “You’re after Rider. And that’s pathetic. Really pathetic.”

  I flinched as I reached for my locker. I was not after Rider. Not the way she meant. If she would just leave me alone, she would eventually see that.

  Couldn’t she just go away? Was that seriously too much to ask?

  Paige wasn’t going anywhere.

  Her cool fingers wrapped around my forearm, her grip firm but not painful. My chin jerked up and our eyes met. She lowered her head. “The last thing Rider needs right now is your shit. What? You think I don’t know about you and him? You think I don’t know that to Rider you’re still the poor little mouse he needs to protect?”

  My fingers curled around empty air as the muscles along my back tensed.

  The cruel twist of her lips faded and then she was no longer staring at me like I was barely worth the air she was breathing. Her gaze was steady and serious. “He spoke about you—about this girl who never talked and how bad he felt for her. He talked about you a lot.” She exhaled roughly. “He talked about you more than he did about himself in the beginning—when he came to stay with Hector. He told me what happened.”

  My stomach hollowed as I stared at her. Distaste dripped from her tone. My chest grew tight. I’d told Ainsley a lot about my past, but Ainsley would never use that knowledge against me. But this girl could. She could tell everyone. How could Rider tell her these things about me? A ripe sense of betrayal rose, clogging already scattered thoughts. I didn’t know this girl and she knew things about me that had taken me months to share with Ainsley.

  “I’m not trying to be a bitch,” she said, and I thought she was doing a good imitation for someone who wasn’t trying. “But Rider has been living with a guilt trip since I’ve known him, and it wasn’t until this past year that he seems to have moved on. And now you’re back. That kind of crap is the last thing he needs right now.”

  Guilt trip? I blinked slowly as the empty sensation spread across my chest. Numbness followed as what Paige was saying began to really sink in. Rider had shared heavy stuff with her. Unspeakable things about both of us, and he felt guilty—he felt bad for what had happened to me. His pity cloaked me in a stickiness that couldn’t be washed off.

  Her eyes narrowed and then she shook her head, letting go of my arm. In that moment I realized we had an audience. I didn’t think they could hear us, but they were definitely watching. In a rare moment, I was too startled to feel humiliation.

  “God, you’re so stupid,” Paige bit out. “You’re looking at me like you have no idea what I’m talking about. Why else do you—”

  The words erupted from me, bursting through the seal that had plugged the top of my throat. “I’m not stupid.”

  Paige’s jaw gaped. A moment passed, and the sound of the students around us faded away. “Did you just speak to me?”

  A voice intruded. “Don’t be a cabrona. I know it’s hard and it’s like all you have in this world, but Jesus, knock it off.”

  My gaze darted to where Jayden stood. I dragged in a deep breath, welcoming the earthy scent that seemed to always cling to the younger boy.

  Paige’s cheeks flushed pink as she turned to Jayden. “What did you just call me?”

  He tilted his head, eyeing her. “You know what I said. And you know it’s true, unless you’re the estúpido one.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but Jayden edged her out of the way, allowing me to gain full access to my locker. Without looking at the small crowd that had gathered around us, I tugged open the door and quickly switched out my books, barely aware of what I was doing. My head was thousands of hours in the past, and when I turned around, Paige was gone and Jayden was standing with his signature sleepy smile on his face.

  “Walk you to class, muñeca?”

  I’d heard muñeca used before. Carl called Rosa that every once in a while, and she smiled when she heard it. Hands shaking, I nodded as I hefted the strap of my bag.

  “My locker is actually down the hall,” he added. “I have a reason to be in this hallway. Paige doesn’t.”

  The twisting motion in my stomach increased since that meant Paige was seeking me out.

  Jayden fell in step next to me, and I kept my chin down, eyes on the floor as we navigated the congested hall. I wondered if this would mean he’d be late to homeroom, but doubted he cared.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I nodded again.

  He scrubbed a hand over the close-croppe
d curls. “Why don’t you talk? I mean, you can. I’ve heard you. So why not talk, like, you know, all the time?”

  Don’t make a sound.

  Those four words echoed in my thoughts as I struggled now to get my tongue to work. Would “conditioning” make sense if I gave Jayden that explanation, or would he think I was weird? Probably weird. Dr. Taft had explained to Rosa and Carl that my lack of...speaking came from PTSD and that I had been conditioned to be as quiet as possible. I’d done research on the whole conditioning thing and learned all about Pavlov’s dog. At least I didn’t drool when a bell was rung. I’d just been trained through negative reinforcement to not make a sound, to not be seen or heard.

 

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