T W E N T Y—F O U R
SURPRISINGLY, THE REST of the evening wasn't awkward between Ryder and I. If anything, we'd been talking more.
I mean, we didn't openly talk to one another, but we'd both interact in conversation more while eating with the others and Dakota at Ryder's house. If Tyler or Jay made a joke, we'd both laugh instead of seeming tensed up and anxious around the other. We'd both cut in and interact more with conversation, rather than sitting there and silently judging the other person.
Honestly, it was kind of nice. I'd just wished that nice feeling could have lasted a lot longer than it had. Not that the two of us got in a fight or anything, more like the school found something new to gossip about the next day.
The moment I'd walked into my first period class, excited chattering fluttered through the air as different groups of friends all whispered about similar theories. And, of course, the first assumption was that I was the source of the gossip. Or, rather, my mystery counterpart.
On the contrary . . . sort of.
It wasn't until lunch that I actually found out what was located at the center of all the gossip.
I'd been about to walk into the cafeteria doors with my skinny jeans, black hoodie, hair up and no makeup—we'd all stayed at Ryder's, so Tyler ran home and grabbed some clothes—when a hand wrapped around my arm and dragged me to the nearest supply closet.
I was about to chew out Tyler for pulling me aside again when the door shut and darkness enveloped my vision. Tyler had never dragged me into a dark, completely secluded room before.
"What the fuck?" I snapped, struggling until a flip was switched and the lights turned on.
Stormy gray eyes locked on mine as Ryder glared, his firm, warn hands on my biceps. "Quit struggling."
I glared back, heart pounding anxiously in my chest. Heat pulsated through my arms from the contact, and I fought the urge to squirm from the unusual feeling. "You four have got to quit pulling me random places and giving me heart attacks."
So maybe we still bickered sometimes, but we didn't hate each other anymore.
He let out a breath through his nose and closed his eyes for a second to calm down.
I have that affect on people.
"Anyway," he started tensely, releasing my arms and dropping his hands to his sides. "Are you even aware of what the talk of the school is?"
I shook my head, shifting my shoulders around to eliminate the warm, lingering feeling from his hands. "No. But, damn these closets are small. Not as small as they are in the movies, but still—"
I was stopped as Ryder's hand covered my mouth. My eyes focused on his instead of shifting around the small closet. His body was nearly pressed against mine, a sliver of air all that separated us.
He seemed irritated.
"Skye."
I nodded.
A beat. Two.
"Shut up."
I snorted out a laugh, to which he yanked his hand away in surprise, his eyes wide. I covered my mouth with my own hand this time and tried to keep it together. "S-sorry."
I was still grinning and giggling when Ryder sighed in exasperation. I honestly had no clue why I was in such a bubbly mood. Things had just been going so well recently, and I couldn't help thinking that I'd been more happy within the last two and a half months than I'd ever been in my lifetime.
And then one word came out of Ryder's mouth that crushed all that spontaneous joy. He pinched the bridge of his nose, then put his hands against the wall on either side of my head, closing me in. My laughter died at the serious expression on his face. "You, Skye. The gossip is about you."
My breath caught in my lungs, but I tried to keep from choking. I stared at him like a deer caught in headlights and shrieked, "What?"
"They don't know it's you, exactly," he clarified—not that his response left me with any more clarity over the situation.
"What do you mean by 'exactly'?"
"I mean," he started, "they know there's a girl. Someone got a video yesterday of us at the lake and showed it to people, and now everyone's curious who this 'mystery girl' is."
I sighed and slammed my head back against the wall. Ryder winced as I groaned in pain.
He chuckled. "Nice job, Valkyrie."
"Shut up, Williams," I muttered, bringing a hand up to rub the back of my head. Ryder stepped back and dropped his hands off the wall to give me some space.
"I assume you're wanting us all to keep our distance?" he asked, then seemed to rethink the question. "Well, us from you and vise versa."
I bit my lip, then shook my head in determination. "No.
Ryder furrowed his eyes in confusion. "Really? Not that I'm trying to shove you away from us again." He held his hands up in a placating manner.
There was no way I was avoiding them again—a warm and welcoming feeling had filled my chest at hearing Ryder say 'us' like he was finally accepting me, in a way. I wasn't just going to toss that away because a few people might find out about me.
If everybody thought I was interesting, maybe nobody would rat me out to police for destruction of property. Maybe.
"I'm not going to give up what we all have just because someone may take a guess at who I am," I finally said. "They've known my alter ego exists for a while; they've only now noticed the connection to the four of you."
He nodded, silence filling the room for a while before he finally asked, "Why do you keep yourself a secret, anyway?"
I tilted my head some and thought about it for a moment. No one had really asked me that, so I didn't really have an immediate answer. After a while, I finally shrugged. "My first day here, I'd only dressed this way out of laziness—it takes a lot more energy than you'd think to put on a leather jacket and tank top first thing in the morning, so I usually just tossed on a hoodie whenever I didn't feel like dressing up. I've never wanted to be the center of attention, so no one really knew I was that girl who caused people so many problems with vandalism. I sort of became the talk of the school, and kept it a secret in fear of being caught and arrested. It seemed pretty fun to be a huge mystery, so I just kept it to myself from then on."
Ryder furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms and stepping over beside me to lean on the wall. Our arms pressed against each others from the tight proximity of the room. "That's it?" He turned his head to face me. "Why do you freak out so much at the thought of anyone knowing?"
I shook my head and stared forward, not wanting to see the expression on his face when I spoke. "I made a deal with my . . . Guardian. If I don't keep myself out of trouble, let's just say things are gonna be pretty bad for me." I trailed off, not wanting to elaborate.
When I finally glanced at Ryder, I could tell he was curious. I didn't really want to explain, but the overwhelming feeling that I owed him and could trust him with it filled me; not that it was some huge secret in the first place, I just didn't tell people out of fear of judgment.
I sighed heavily. "Seventeen years ago, my mother died giving birth to me." I reached up to play with my necklace, Ryder's eyes following my movement before locking back onto mine. "About a month after my first birthday, my father left me with my grandma to go God knows where. She raised me to be a good little girl until I was seven, when she died of a heart attack."
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Shit, I'm sorry. I never knew."
I shrugged it off, though the backs of my eyes burned thinking about her memory. "No one did." I looked down. "I haven't told the others what I'm telling you."
Ryder sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. I heard the bell signalling the end of lunch ring, but I didn't care. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."
I shook my head. "I don't mind, but you're going to be late to class."
He shrugged. "This is important to you—class can wait."
I smiled slightly, then took a deep breath before continuing. "After my grandma died, I had no other family. I'd been forced to live on the streets, batting my eyelashes at the people passing by for spare change or food. It wasn't until the other street kids tried stealing what I had that my good-girl attitude went down the drain." I clenched my hand at my side, jumping when I felt Ryder's rap gently around it. His thumb brushed lightly against my knuckles until I relaxed them like I'd done for him at the lake. He surprisingly left his hand there. "I'd been beaten up hundreds of time by the others, and gave a few beatings myself."
"I'm so sorry, Skye."
I took a risk and leaned my head on his shoulder, hearing the empathy in his voice. It wasn't until his thumb brushed across my cheek did I realize there were tears there. "It's not your fault, you don't need to apologize."
He nodded silently. It wasn't like we were a cuddling couple, but our actions still surprised me. It felt more like we were each others' support; almost like we couldn't stand without the other one there to catch us when we fell, yet we barely even knew each other.
I suppose these recent confessions are changing that, though, aren't they?
I continued my story before my mind became too preoccupied. "I'd eventually been found by the state and sent to various foster homes, all of which I ran from. Six foster families later and I found one that worked for both me and my foster dad. We'd come to an agreement: as long as I didn't do anything illegal to get him in trouble and he got his money for taking care of me, he didn't care what I did. I only sleep there when I can't stay with one of the guys, but they're usually okay with it, no questions asked. About a week after getting used to my foster home—since I was the only child—I decided not to run, and enrolled in the high school when I was fifteen. I've been going there ever sense, and met the boys a little over two months ago."
"And that's when you pulled me from the guy at the lockers."
I nodded and said, "Yeah."
There was a moment of silence before, "Have you ever tried to find him?"
"Who?" I asked automatically, but grimaced when I processed his meaning.
"Your dad."
I felt an intense urge to correct him and say 'father', but held back. "No."
Ryder let out a breath through his nose and laced his fingers through mine, rather than just holding them. The tone in my voice indicated all he needed to know about the situation. I didn't know my father, and I didn't care to.
At some point during our long stretch of silence, we both slid to the floor. Both of my knees were pulled to my chest while one of Ryder's was pulled to his.
My hand found the chain around my neck as a thought occured to me. "What is this?"
He lifted his head from their focus on our intertwined hands and gazed at me with furrowed eyebrows. "What?"
I lifted my head from his shoulder to face him, but wouldn't make eye contact. I still felt embarrassed by my tear-filled eyes from before. "What is this?" I gestured between us with my free hand. "We barely even know each other, yet we're sharing things we haven't told anyone and holding onto each other like we're the other's life line."
He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, staring at nothing in particular. "I have no idea."
Before either of us could say anything else, the bell signalling the end of fifth period sounded. My eyes widened in surprise. "We've been in here that long?"
"I suppose." He shrugged. "We should probably get out of here before a janitor comes in and starts accusing us of shit."
"I wonder why he'd do that?" I said sarcastically.
He rolled his eyes before we both stood up. I slipped out first, as he said he'd just wait until the halls were cleared.
Unfortunately, I just had to run into a hard chest on my way out. I'd been too busy looking around to see if anyone had seen me in the supply closet to see where I'd been going, much less who I'd run into.
"Bloody hell," a startlingly familiar voice muttered.
My head shot up in surprise and horror as I recognized the voice, only for my suspicions to be confirmed as I took in the dark, almost black eyes and Aust—British accent.
Cue the anxiety attack.