Trepidation | Sitkolson [ C ]

Chapter 8 | Shredding The Balloon

Since we had made it to the lake, the sun had started to set a little more. Obviously, Ryan and I got distracted from the scavenger hunt and left it to the rest of our group to find whatever needed to be found.

With his eyes still on the water, Ryan started off with a simple question.

"When's your birthday?"

"September first. Yours?"

"January eight," He mumbled, "Favourite season?"

"Winter. Favourite place to be?"

"The cemetery." He answered, holding a seconds worth of eye contact.

"Why?" I frowned.

He shrugged, "It's peaceful. Cats or dogs?"

"Cats. You?"

"Dogs, I guess. Cats are okay, too."

I chuckled, "I don't think I can be your friend anymore."

He laughs slightly, "I guess I'll switch to cats then. Guys or girls?"

"Guys. You?"

He licked his lips, "Guys."

He looked to me, his eyes meeting mine. I knew he didn't exactly come off as straight, because he had that side to him that could just be saved for a guy, but it was a surprise that he even admitted that. Let alone to me.

I bit my lip, blushing slightly, "It's your turn."

He looked back to the lake, "Any siblings?"

"Uh, y-yeah.." I looked away from him and the lake, turning my head to the side.

I did have a sibling–my sister–, but she wasn't the only one. I guess I sort of kept it away until the question popped up.

"Are you okay?" He asked, resting a hand on my knee.

I flinched from the contact, slowly becoming self conscious about my surroundings. For some reason, I felt as if I could trust Ryan..

"Do you?" I asked quietly.

It was now his turn to look away, "Yeah. I mean, I- never mind."

"An answer for an answer?"

I didn't know if it was the right thing to do, because, for all I knew, what I was about to tell him was completely different to what he was going to tell me. For all I knew, I was about to tell him one of my biggest secrets, only to hear one from him everyone else had.

"Do you want me to start?" He asked, subconsciously playing with the frayed denim on the cut on my jeans.

"I can," I mumbled, staring at his tattoos, "On my fifteenth birthday, my dad got drunk. He usually would, but that night was worse. My sister–she was twenty two– got mad at him, talking about how it was my birthday, and that my dad should at least have one day off of drinking. Like I said, he was drunk, so he got madder at her than what he should've. He-He threw his bottle at her. It... It shattered against her shoulder, but that didn't knock her down. He pushed her to the ground, and that's where some of the glass got in her head. It didn't kill her, but it damaged her brain, somehow. She was in a coma for almost two months, and in that time, my mom told the police it was an accident, and that my father didn't do anything to hurt her," I squeezed my eyes shut, "When Taylor woke up, the doctors announced she had brain damage. They couldn't get some of the glass pieces out, especially the ones that found their way into her ear. Three weeks of silence had passed before Taylor did something. I... I didn't realise she was so unhappy with it all.. We buried her four months before my sixteenth. That's when it all just... stopped..."

Ryan was the first person I had told that, and I will admit, I regretted it. I was told (when I first moved to Scranton) that I couldn't trust him, and that I shouldn't talk to him, yet I found myself telling him about this..?

His warm hands brushed across the part of my jeans that had the cut in them, causing me to shiver from the contact.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

I sniffled, shaking my head, "I-It's fine. It's not your fault."

"My sister was a lot like yours," Ryan started, continuing to play with my jeans, "She defended me a lot. Even if she was five years younger. I started smoking at a young age, just to try and numb everything, and she defended me, saying I wasn't doing anything that bad. Vinny... Vinny was a well loved person in the school. He was a fool, and that's what helped him get friends. That and the fact that his older brother was dating Ryan Ashley. When... When people found out about their- about me.. killing them, people started to hate me even more. They did everything they could to bring me down for what I had done," I heard Ryan sniff, but I didn't dare look up from his hand, "I guess they had just snapped, because one night, they came to my house. Just like I had with the random house we had found, they burnt it down. I managed to get my mom out, because she was right next to me at the time, but Ally was sleeping up in her room. I..." When he stopped, I looked up at Ryan, watching as tears fell down his cheeks.

It was, again, strange to see him cry.

"I couldn't save her. I guess I couldn't save myself either." He mumbled, using his free hand to wipe his tears away.

After seconds of contemplating, I scooted closer to Ryan and wrapped my arms around his torso. I pulled him closer to me, and he slowly wrapped his arms around me, doing the same.

"I'm sorry."

He tried his best to chuckle, "It's not your fault."

He was warm. He also smelt really nice. It was a mix of cologne and peppermint. I guess he actually did stop smoking..

I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes.

It actually felt nice to hug him. I was a very cuddly person, so I was happy every time I got one. And, let me tell you, Ryan gave really good hugs.

At the sound of twigs snapping and leaves crushing, Ryan and I quickly broke apart.

I looked behind me to see Hayley, one of the girls from a different group.

She sent Ryan and I a small smile before walking down the shore of the lake, eventually disappearing behind the trees.

Ryan cleared his throat, standing up, "We should, uh, head back now."

I silently agreed and followed him through the forest.

I didn't expect something like that from Ryan. I never even thought about what he went through after the accident. I never took into consideration that it affected him just as much as it did everyone else, because he, too, lost someone through it all.

Something about both of us admitting this brought a different feeling to me. The trust I felt not ten minutes ago had heightened. I didn't even know if I could call it trust. What I did know, though, was that Josh wouldn't be happy when he found out Ryan and I talked like this.