Chapter 8 - Would be happier if I smacked your girlfriend with a bat instead?

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Chapter 8 - Would you be happier if I smacked your girlfriend with a bat instead?

I stand there, mouth open with shock, as the newspaper slowly slides down from my face and falls on the floor.

My shocked eyes meet that of an equally shocked woman. She looks she's in her early fifties or late forties. Her hair is tied in a messy bun and she's wearing an apron around her waist.

"Mom! Did you seriously just smack Allie with a newspaper?" Ryder asks bewildered as he kicks the door closed.

Ryder's mom grins at me sheepishly, "Oops?"

Ryder sighs exasperated and shakes his head at me, "Are you okay?"

I nod not being able to comprehend words.

Getting smacked with a newspaper by your crush's mother. Every girl's dream, right?

Ryder sighs and takes Pixie from my arms, "Here, give her to me. And mom, help Allie to find some clothes."

"Is that a cat?" she squeals as she goes to hold her.

Ryder swats her hand away, "Get Allie some clothes first. And what the hell were you thinking mom?" Ryder sighs as he picks up the newspaper with one hand.

Ryder's mom rolls her eyes, "Well I'm sorry I thought you were an intruder and was just trying to protect our home."

Ryder rolls his eyes, "Obviously there will be intruders if you don't lock the door. And again who even smacks an intruder with a newspaper?"

She rolls her eyes, "What? Would you be happier if I smacked your girlfriend with a bat instead?"

I blush, "I-I'm not-"

"She's not my girlfriend."

Ryder's curt reply cuts me off. He doesn't even glance at me as he tells his mother that he's going to do something about Pixie and will catch us later. Then without even a single word or look at me, he storms into a room and slams the door shut.

Ouch.

Trying to shrug off my feelings, I follow Ryder's mom to a room opposite of the one Ryder shut himself in.

It's only a crush Lisa. It's fine. It obviously doesn't matter that he seemed so pissed of when she thought of me as his girlfriend. It completely doesn't matter that he couldn't even be a little sensitive and just brush it off saying 'No, we're just friends.' And it absolutely doesn't matter that he stormed off looking angry as hell.

But it does.

It fucking matters.

"How about this one dear?" Mrs. Woods asks me as she shows me one off her dresses. It's a cream coloured blouse and a short skirt. The blouse I can handle but the skirt looks like it came directly out of an 80's movie.

"It's one of my most favourite dresses. I loved wearing this when I was in high school!" She sighs wistfully.

High school, huh? Figures.

I try not to show my apprehensions on my face, "Um..yeah, sure. Any thing's fine really, Mrs. Woods. And I'm again really sorry for barging in your home unannounced."

She smiles kindly at me and hands me the dress, "It's fine dear. Besides I'm happy Ryder brought a friend home. That kid's...how should I say this...?"

"Grumpy?" I offer. Though I had many, many colourful words reserved for him in my current state of mind, I choose to censor them for Mrs. Woods sake.

She chuckles, "Well, that's one way to put it. He's never really been a social butterfly and after..." she suddenly stops and looks at me, "Oh! How silly of me! You're shivering and I'm blabbering on without a common sense. Change, dear. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

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