Only the Good Die Young

Chapter Ten

ERIC

Ryleigh and Michelle left me with Peter and Simon's mom. Great. Apparently Ry wants Peter and me to become friends. Why should I be friends with him? All of the sudden he texts her, wanting to meet up, tries to make a move on my girlfriend, and continues to meet with her without me? I trust Ry and all, but I never really knew Peter in the first place. I have no reason to trust him.

And now they're both the unborn twins' godparents. Ry is going to want to be there for Michelle and I'm going to go off to college. I know we only talked about making the most of the rest of high school, but does she think I'd be okay graduating, breaking up with her, and trying to meet some other girl in college?

"So..." Peter says.

"What do you and Ry do when you hang out?" I ask. I know I probably shouldn't come straight out and put him on the spot, but I doubt Simon's mom is listening. She's too absorbed in her mug of coffee that appears to be cold, since it isn't giving off steam.

"We watched a Star Trek marathon the other day. She took the futon and I was in the armchair, don't worry."

I think he knows I'm accusing him. Simon's mom keeps sipping her coffee. I stare at Peter. He turns away. His cheeks turn pink, like Ry's when I compliment her or kiss her.

"How long have you and Ryleigh been dating?" Peter asks.

"September. It was a little before we went to Homecoming together. She looked great in her dress that I helped pick out." Truth be told, I didn't really help pick out the dress, I only told her that it was perfect while she was still contemplating.

"That's nice."

I glance over at Simon's mom to see if she'll partake in any conversation. I don't really want to talk about Ryleigh unless I can emphasize our relationship.

"When do you turn eighteen?"

"Already am. My birthday is in July, a few days before Ryleigh's, so we're a year apart."

Curses. I don't turn eighteen until February.

"You're the star football player?" Simon's mom asks, her voice as quiet as my little sister, Em's.

"Yeah. We're conference champions again this year. It wasn't much competition, though. An easy season, great for senior year. I think it helped that Ryleigh started wearing my jersey to the games."

Peter snorts into the back of his hand. When I glare at him, his arm drops and his eyes widen, like he didn't do anything wrong.

"Do any sports?" I ask Peter.

"Nah, I just weight lift downstairs. Once in awhile, Simon and I would run in the woods. But that's it. I can't exactly go out in public."

"What a shame."

He seems uncomfortable. I'm okay with that. The silence lasts for another ten or fifteen minutes when my phone starts ringing. Caller ID says that it's Ry.

"What's up babe?" I answer. Peter looks down at the table.

She tells me that the car died. I offer that we'll figure something out and call her back when we have an idea. If I remember right, Simon drove a motorcycle. I never got my motorcycling license, plus we'd need to carry both girls back. I doubt Peter has his license.

"The car died."

"You drive with such little gas?" Peter asks. It makes me want to strangle him.

"I drive Ry around a fair bit, and sometimes we go out for dinner. I can't always afford gas as soon as it leaves the Full mark."

"Well, we have a car here. You drive stick?" My face heated up. I never learned. My family owns standard gear systems in all three of our vehicles.