Because this book is now published, content stops after chapter twenty. Please proceed with this information in mind.
T h i r t e e n
Ryder said we could do whatever I wanted for the rest of the day. Honestly, I just wanted some space to think. The locker room incident had gotten me all flustered and now I was a total and utter mess. By the time we got back to Ryder's house and gotten cleaned up, I had come to the conclusion that I had gotten too many footballs to the head and the locker room odours were making me feel funny. Yeah. That's it. I think.
Ryder left me to come up with the remaining day's plans. In the end, we went out back. It was like a pergola, yet cased with glass so if you looked up, you could see the sky. It was one of many privileges Ryder had to his house. So, we sat out there for a while. I snuggled into some warm, comfortable clothes and curled up on the soft, leather couch with a book. Ryder sat next to me.
He didn't seem to mind about my choice of activity. I think he was tired. Within a few minutes of settling in, a silence had fallen upon us. It wasn't a tense silence like the one we had experienced in the taxi ride home the previous night. It was... rather comforting.
When I opened my book, I didn't read it. I stared blankly at the jumble of words and thought. Absentmindedly, I'd flick the pages over once in a while, appearing to be reading, when really, my mind was racing with so many thoughts.
Say, hypothetically, if I were to fall for Ryder, what would be my reasons? I mean, we had hated each other for almost six years and without that stupid handcuff demonstration we might have graduated with our silent loathing of each other. But Ryder and I had been handcuffed for nearly three days now. You couldn't possibly fall for someone in three days.
Maybe it wasn't love. Maybe it was just hate. I had read somewhere that there as a thin line between the two. Hate seemed like a more reasonable explanation, but I didn't think my hate for him was any more passionate than it was a few days ago. If anything, it had dimmed.
Perhaps I was just thrilled that Ryder was being nice to me. I mean, after six years of hate and a sudden change in attitude, maybe I was just pleased with the difference. Maybe I didn't like, like him. Maybe I was starting to like him as a friend. I mean, he was being extremely compassionate and supportive, especially with the recent disastrous events.
Looking over at Ryder, who was now fast asleep, I thought further. He sat there, eyes closed, lips slightly parted as he gently snored. His hair was a tousled mess, wisps of dark hair sticking out in all directions. My eyes skimmed through every line and angle of his face; the arch of his lips, the hallow of his cheekbones, the shape of his jaw. It was no doubt that Ryder was attractive, but that didn't mean that I actually was attracted to him. I think. I mean, that makes sense, right?
In the end, I just ended up back in square one. My thoughts had jumbled up so much that I decided since I had so many football attacks to my head -and chest- that my brain had rattled up and was making me feel weird things. That, and the seriously foul odours of the boys' locker room.
I don't know how long we stayed outside for. Eventually, I just placed my book down and watched the sun set. Rich, vibrant colours painted the sky, a spectrum of sparkling life. Slowly, the golden ball of light dimmed, the sky darkening with the faint glitter of stars appearing.
Ryder woke up at that point, right when the sky bled from colour and was replaced by a velvety blanket of sapphire. He grunted, shifting in the couch as he stretched awkwardly and slumped back into position. He turned and looked at me, rubbing a hand down his face.
"How long was I out for?" he asked, voice slow and sleepy. His words were pronounced with a deep huskiness which was unquestioningly attractive. But then again, all guys' sleepy voice was unbelievably addictive.
"A few hours," I replied, returning my gaze back at the sky.
Ryder didn't really seem interested in my reply. He regarded my response with a smack to his stomach. "I'm starving."
I hadn't realised I was hungry as well until he mentioned it. So together, we went back inside in a hunt for food. Ryder walked towards the fridge and opened the door, popping his head inside and searched around.
"I don't see anything to eat," he groaned.
I peeked over his shoulder. "There's plenty to eat," I said, eyes widening at the variety of foods.
"Yeah, but nothing I want to eat," Ryder complained as he straightened and slammed the door closed, the sound of glass bottles clinking from the impact.
He walked over towards the cupboards next and pulled out a bag. "Now we're talking. I know exactly what to have for dinner."
I never expected to have s'mores for an evening meal. I had always pictured myself surrounded by friends as we circled around a fire, telling ghost stories as we roasted marshmallows. But never would I have thought I'd be surrounded in a little glass room, sitting on a pile of cushions as I hunched over Ryder's fireplace.
I stuck my long fork into the flickering flames of the fire and watched as the marshmallow slowly turned from a spongy ball into a toasted hot mess. Scraping the sticky remains of the 'mallow onto a cracker and topping it off with a piece of chocolate, I shoved half of it into my mouth.
"Slow down, yeah?" Ryder said, raising an eyebrow at me.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, I snapped, "Shut up."
Ryder just shook his head, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile. I slowed down my eating after that and went through another three s'mores without Ryder making any comments about my rude eating habits. Resting my head back against the couch, I looked up through the glass and to the sky. Smoke from the chimney rose up to the heavens, curling around in grey tendrils before disappearing high up into the scattered clusters of stars.
I don't know how long I stared up at the evening sky for, but when I returned my gaze back down, I caught Ryder studying me. He wasn't checking me out or anything and his expression showed nothing of interest. He seemed slightly confused as he tried to figure something out, searching my face for something. His tinted blue eyes scanned my face and his eyebrows knitted together as he concentrated further.
"What?" I said, being the first to look away as I reached over and cupped my mug of hot chocolate in my hands.
"I just don't understand anymore, Nora," he answered.
"About what?" I questioned, looking down at the rich chocolate pool of goodness before taking a sip. The warm liquid ran through my entire body.
"Lots of things," Ryder replied, eyes narrowing at me as he thought. "You, me, us..." He paused for a moment, then quickly added, "Just stuff. Okay? Stuff. Lots of stuff."
It had been a really long day. A really long and confusing day and it was comforting to know that Ryder was just as muddled as I was. Or did it just make it a whole lot complicated? If he was just as uncertain as I was about what had happened earlier in the day, was there a stronger possibility that he had considered that we experienced some sort of sparked connection?
Oh, God.
As if we were both thinking about the same thing, we exchanged looks and quickly looked away from each other, cringing. "Look, Nora, what happened in the change rooms... It meant nothing, okay?" he said, as he looked away and seemed to think.
"Um, gross. Why would I think it would mean anything?" I quickly replied, flippantly tossing my hand in his direction for emphasis. I added a little snort just in case I didn't prove my point.
"Good," he answered, frowning as he let out one of his famous grunts. Grunts that apparently translated into English, considering it was how most guys communicated with each other.
"Yeah. Good."
We kind of just sat there in silence for a few minutes, the whole topic being dropped. Although the conversation had been dismissed, I still thought about it. It meant nothing to me. I knew that. It was just a stupid little incident. Then why couldn't I stop thinking about it?