Robyn

~Chapter 11~

I want to feel indifferent--to not care--but it's like I am frozen watching this whole conversation from the outside. My mouth is dry, and my tongue tries to grasp for words but only makes out a barely audible "oh."

There's a flash of sympathy in Nacy's brown eyes that causes me to look away. "I understand," she begins, "that you and Ryland are kind of close--"

"We're not," I rush, but my stomach can't help but quease in discomfort.

"Whatever the case, I don't want to ruin a friendship, but I'm going to need you to find out more about this because certain things aren't making sense."

My gaze falls to floor as I nod to myself, trying to take in this new revelation. "So you want me to use Ryland to get information?"

"Don't think of it like that," she says taking a step toward me, "You go over to his house right? While you're there just find a time to maybe go into his dad's office and find whatever you can. I know he's your friend, but you can't let that get in the way of doing what's right."

I nod quietly, only able to make eye contact with Nacy for a fleeting second. "Yeah, I know. It's not a problem. I'll get it done."

"Well," she says as she slings a sports bag over her shoulder, "now that that's handled I better get to giving out these things." She walks toward the door, sliding pass me. Just as our shoulders brush, she leans over. "Make sure to lock the door when you leave, and remember Robyn, I'm here if you need to talk." With that she turns the doorknob, exiting the apartment leaving me standing there dumbfounded.

When I do leave the apartment and begin delivering the stolen items to the families of those who have been taken advantage of, I'm not as focused as usual. I know I should be. It's dangerous of me to not be paying as close attention to my surroundings. One wrong movement could mean me and the other girls getting caught, and that's the last thing I want. Yet, the whole conversation with Nacy stays on constant repeat within the confines of my mind.

I wish it didn't bother as much as it does. Ryland's just another kid. Granted I have become closer with him than any other person who isn't Nacy, Brielle, or Jun, but we've really only known each other for a few months. That period of time is definitely not long enough to establish any significant attachment; so then why am I so hung up on it?

By the time, I return home, which is extremely late in the night, I head straight to the bathroom to take a shower and then to my bed. There I lay staring up at the ceiling, trying to make out the chipped pieces of paint that loom over me.  My hands rest on my stomach as I blank out into space in attempt to distance myself from this world and from myself by wrapping myself in emptiness--pure emptiness.

*****

Returning back to school the following week fills my stomach with dread. Somehow, I have to withdraw myself from Ryland while remaining close enough to have access to his house. All in all, it sounds pretty contradictory but it must be done. 

Once he walks into history, I'm preparing myself to see the usual grin he flashes to me, and I do see it, except something about his smile doesn't seem right. It's there; just as large as usual but his eyes are missing their usual twinkle. It's a charlatan grin--fake. I would know one anywhere. I stare him in the eye, unable to contain the confused frown on my face. He's always happy. What's wrong?

As he slides into his seat behind me and takes out his supplies, I turn around in my chair to face him, my face still scrunched in confusion. "What's wrong?"

His eyes flicker up to mine, briefly glancing toward the side before refocusing to me. "What? Nothing."

"You're a horrible liar," I state blandly.