Only With You

05 | interstellar

"Uh, my French is a little rusty," I say. "I could say like, bonjour. But I totally don't know what you just said."

"What? Oh, shit." Ryan laughs, his cheeks red. "I just spoke French to you. Sorry, first language. My brain's a little scrambled."

"Did the doctors say anything? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a bit of a concussion. I'll be back at work in no time. My family's pretty pissed though, they don't want me anywhere near The Inlet."

Relief settles over me, and I let out a breath. "I'm really glad you're okay. Was that your family in here before?"

"Yeah, that's Nyla, my stepsister, and my stepmom Sylvie."

With no idea what to say, I squeak my shoes against the floor and step toward him with my hands behind my back. "So, you speak another language, huh? That's hot."

I wince. Talk about saying the worst thing at the worst time. Apparently I still have beer in my system, because that was supposed to be a joke, but it came out all garbled.

But Ryan just laughs and says, "Thanks, I think."

I glance around the white-walled room, at the shelf of gauze and sterile pads, the wall of stethoscopes and gadgets. Eventually, I say, "So, hospitals, huh? So fun."

Ryan smiles, but his eyes are distant. Blue-grey and hazy like clouds of cosmic dust. "I'm no stranger to hospitals."

"Me neither. In fact, I spend five days a week here making sandwiches." When he frowns in confusion, I laugh. "Right. I never told you, but my job here is at Subway. Assistant manager and everything." I lamely make a thumbs up, but Ryan laughs anyway, too polite for his own good.

"Oh, wow," he says. "That's cool, right?"

"Not the word I'd choose, but sure."

"Why not? At least you're making money. When I was twenty-one, I was bleeding into a university education I ended up doing nothing with."

"Really? My family thinks I'm a pretty big loser for not going to school. But I'm not really good at anything. What'd you take?"

"History. I'm not good at much either, but I can recite the timeline of every war in Rome's recorded history, if that's something you're interested in."

"Afraid not, sorry."

We both smile. Since our conversation is getting cozy, I pull up a chair and sit next to his bed. Our eyes meet, and I feel the slightest zap of electricity. Ryan removes his arm from under the white sheet and reveals his skin, and it's almost gives me whiplash.

His tattoo.

A watercolour blend of blue and black melt down his arm, dotted with galaxies and stars.

"Wow," I say. "That's beautiful."

Ryan's face tinges with pink as he glances down at his arm, then tucks it back under the sheet. "Oh, thanks. My family sort of hates it."

It's strange; usually people who've graduated university intimidate me, or they look down on me because I wasn't 'smart' enough to do what they did. But Ryan doesn't make me feel like that at all—especially after seeing that tattoo. Maybe, just maybe, if I open up to him, he might find something he likes about me, too.

"You know, I might not have a fancy education," I say, "but I know lots about the stars. My dad's a professor with a focus on meteorology, but he introduced me to space when I was little, and I've been sort of obsessed ever since."

"So why don't you make that your career?"

"That's a lot of school." I shrug. "No way I could handle it."

His eyes crinkle when he smiles. "Well I'd be lying if I said my degree has done me any good. I could go to teacher's college and become a professor like your dad, but... I guess I really like bartending."

"I like you as a bartender too." When more silence threatens us, I say, "So you like the stars too, right? That's why you got the tattoo?"

He looks at his hands. "Yeah, but it was for my mom, actually. She loved talking about other worlds."

Loved. Past-tense. I don't need to ask what he means, and my heart sinks. I can see why he wanted to keep the conversation on careers, so I switch it up.

"So are you pressing charges against those fuckheads?"

"Honestly? No."

"Why?"

The lines beneath his eyes are tired, but not laced with hatred. "Some people have a lot of anger, and I think they jump at the first opportunity to take it out."

Frowning, I cross my arms. "But aren't you pissed off as hell? I mean, they beat you up for no good reason. They're total wastes."

"I'm not mad. Embarrassed, yeah. Humiliated, definitely. But that many guys on one just isn't fair, and I never stood a chance. I don't want to invest any more energy in this than I need to."

Wow, I don't get him. I wouldn't let them off scot-free. Then again, I have no intention of going after Cass, but she didn't near put me in a coma. Looking back on it, I think she was just trying to seem tougher than she actually is, probably to put on a show for those guys. Can't relate.

Ryan sinks into the pillow, and his eyes drift over the walls. There's so much exhaustion on his face, more than I've ever seen on anyone. I might not understand why he isn't mad, but in a way, I envy his ability to let go. All Ryan wants to do is move on from this terrible experience. I can't blame him for that.

"I'm really glad you're okay," I say, my throat tight. "You didn't deserve any of that."

"Thanks. I'm glad you're okay too."

We share another lingering grin before I get the sense I'm overstaying my welcome. But things feel different between us; not like they did at the bar earlier, when I was trying so hard just to break through his barrier. I think I know him better now.

Because if we're two planets revolving around our own stars, I think we made interstellar travel. Maybe we could even be friends.

So before I leave the room, I say, "Hey, Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe I could come back and see you sometime. Like, at The Inlet. Is that cool?"

He smiles. "Yeah. I'd like that."

* * *

A/N: HII long time no update! This chapter kinda sucks lawl but I just want to get over this hump and keep telling the story, because there's lots to come. I hope you enjoyed it enough to stick around for the next chappie, anyway <3

Would love to hear what you think!!!

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