Ryder

twenty seven

you guys thought long chapters are pretty fine so here you go :)

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It was a pretty sad and unfortunate sight to watch hundreds of Christmas lights and decorations all scattered around the streets and houses we drove past.

It didn't seem like this one would be a white Christmas, I thought a little mournfully. I didn't think it would. And I didn't think it should've mattered when I wouldn't even be able to enjoy much of it anyway. I didn't think I had it in me to head back home today, or tomorrow, or even the day after tomorrow. I didn't even think I could so much as attend the orchestra our university was putting up tomorrow--or today if the hours counted. Nico had told me back at the hospital that he'd received his entry passes and even went as far as asking me if I wanted him to collect mine from the reception desk. I'd only just looked at him and shook my head.

How was I supposed to just go with it? Go out and see an orchestra playing? Just the thought alone now was like warning bells ringing so blatantly and painfully in my ears. It was a warning. A plain, simple warning.

If my mom found out--wasn't I already at the edge of ruining enough?

I was well and truly fucked after that encounter at the bridge, and I knew the orchestra should be the last thing on my battered mind right now. I couldn't. I wanted to and a part of me wished to but I didn't think I deserved it. Not right now. Never, a nasty voice in my head offered. You were deciding to go there and listen to all those delicate violins being played and Mom warned you but you didn't listen.

My mom used to tell me when I was young that if I always thought of doing things for myself, indulging myself with things that I liked, it would always backfire. It would always end up hurting the people around me. Just like my dad--he fell in love with another woman, my mom used to tell me, and he ended up hurting us and destroying our family. Just like when I tried to play the violin my dad had gifted me when I was little--it ended up hurting Mom. She'd be sad, so utterly sad, and she'd cry and tell me to stop playing it. And then I'd hurt my fingers.

Just like I'd ended up liking Michael, liked the way he made me feel, liked the way he touched me--and then he had torn me apart.

My mom had been right. That's why I was here now, with an injured head and a concussion, and a best friend who I'd watched as she was pushed from a bridge too high.

I wasn't in a very nice mindset throughout the car ride or by the time we reached Ryder's expensive penthouse that seemed to scream all kinds of riches. I hated it and I also kind of hated myself in that moment. I didn't know how much more hurt there was left ahead of me and how much I was supposed to take of it.

The whole car ride was a rollercoaster of pent-up emotions. There was just silence between Ryder and me as he drove past the early morning streets. People, who seemed to just be waking up for early Christmas cheer. I tried not to stare but I could only control myself so much within this stifling silence between us before giving in.

I hated that I'd ended up with a concussion during Christmas break. I hated that I wouldn't be able to see the orchestra tonight. I hated that I was still thinking of it. I hated that I didn't even wish to see my family right now, not when I felt like such a big mess. And I hated, hated that this silence wasn't having any effect on Ryder like it was having on me.

I gripped my phone in one hand--my phone that Ryder had handed me before we'd left the hospital--and the lone sunflower Nico had brought me in my other hand. It looked like it was going to wither away and die any second now and the corner of my eyes stung with tears.

Instead of letting myself feel them (I was already feeling too much), I gingerly tipped my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, trying to pretend that I didn't feel how carefully Ryder seemed to be driving especially past the bumps on the road, and telling myself that I was imagining when I felt his gaze on me but just for a moment.