I let him walk off, but I’m determined to get answers. Turning to Beck, I demand, “What’s he talking about?”
Beck just shrugs. “Does anyone ever know?”
Hell.
Whatever. I’ll just have to go right to the source. As the guys slam lockers and leave, I cradle my phone, not really wanting to text Ari and dive head first into the damn drama, but knowing I have no other choice.
I really didn’t need anymore shit on top of this already shitty day.
With a shake of my head, I start typing. Me: The party is…Gavin’s doing. Sorry. I took credit because I wanted to impress you. Lame, I know, but don’t hate on a guy for trying. And bet…? Not sure what you’re talking about there.
Taking a seat on the bench in the middle of the locker room, I wait. Like the sorry-ass loser that I am. For this girl to text me back. When did I become that guy? Fucking again?
I’m not sure how long I wait, but soon I’m fuming and tossing my gear into my locker. Then I’m off through the school, hunting down Ari. Best to do some things in person.
It wasn’t so much the words…but the tone of her message. Something’s wrong.
After I’ve exhausted everywhere I can think of, all the places she might be—the gym, library, boosters—I stuff my ego way down into the pit of my stomach and make the trek to her dorm. Stares and whistles follow me through the halls, and I smile, nodding and giving half-waves of acknowledgment.
I still think it’s ridiculous the way everyone treats me now. Not that I didn’t eat it up that first year. It was like becoming a different person. New, and improved, even. And it’s the reason why my reputation continues to precede me, even though I haven’t been that guy either for a long time. That doesn’t matter, though. It’s who they all want me to be—The Ryde.
But I’m thankful reality eventually caught up. That’s what put it all into perspective. My mother’s failing health and my brother’s constant problems helped with that. I guess it forced me to figure out what’s important fast.
If Jake wouldn’t have fucked up his chances, just threw it all away, I wouldn’t be where I’m at now. It’s a messed up truth. A guilt riddled dilemma. One that he wants me to believe he did all for my benefit—and in some way, I do trust that. But I know him too well. It was mostly for himself.
Damn. Too much time spent thinking on the past lately, and how things turned out, how they could’ve been different—I can’t do this forever. At some point, I just have to accept that it is what it is, and move on.
But that guilt, and the fear that my involvement is what triggered…
I stop the thought before it takes over, pulling me under into that dark void. It won’t change anything. I can’t turn back time—I can’t alter reality. All the clichés I try so hard to keep out of my writing come barreling toward me, threatening to tear me apart.
Ari’s dorm room is before me, one solid wooden door separating me from her. If she’s in there. I don’t hesitate a moment longer. My fist bangs against the wood. Muffled voices bleed through the door, then it’s yanked open.
“What—oh.” Vee’s green eyes widen with surprise. She opens the door wider, revealing Ari sitting on her bed, an iPad propped on her knees and obscuring her face, ear buds dangling from her ears. “I guess I should give you guys privacy…again,” she says, and my gaze snaps to her. “But I’m getting kind of tired of you guys always needing it. Why can’t you just figure it out, already? Be. Nice.” She lowers her head as she says this last part, delivering a stern glare.
“I agree,” I say, sliding by her as she leaves the room. “I’d like us to get past…whatever the issue is.” She shrugs, as if she knows nothing, but I wish she’d give me a clue before I face down the wrath of Ari.
I close the door quietly, then tuck my hands into my pockets as I ease toward her bed. She doesn’t notice me until I’m standing directly above her. Her large amber eyes glance up, then back to her iPad screen, then back to me.
“Shit!” She bounds up, yanking the ear buds out and tossing the device on her bed. “Jesus, Ryder. Creep much?”
Despite her obvious irritation with me, I smile. “I figured you must’ve lost your phone and was desperately trying to find a way to contact me.” I raise my eyebrows. Challenging.
Her hand pressed to her chest, as if she’s trying to contain her heart from leaping out of it, she says slowly, “Ryder. What do you want?”
That’s a loaded question. I want a lot of things. I want the Bobcats to cream Engleton and bring home the championship. I want my brother to get straight, stop drinking and stay on his meds, stop fucking his life up. I want my mom healthy. But in relation to Ari—to this specific desire—I want her to trust me.
I’m not sure if I’m deserving of her trust, or her time, but I’d at least like the opportunity to try to be. And that’s a hard thing for me to admit. Even to myself. If she rejects me, proves in some way that I’m not worthy, nothing but a dumb, poor, talentless jock, then I’m afraid of what it could mean. The possibility that my brother’s fate should’ve been mine.
She’s staring up at me, waiting for an answer. I’ve gone so far past a simple explanation in my head. “I want you to talk to me.” Simple. Direct. A start.
She huffs, then pushes herself back up against the wall. As far away from me as she can get. I’m aware of the wall solidifying between us. The one she’s raising that I have no control over bringing back down. If it was ever lowered in the first place.
But that’s not all her doing. I haven’t really let her in further than the surface, either.
She pushes her hair back away from her forehead, as if she’s stressed. “You kept your promise. So I’ll keep mine. Nothing’s changed.”
“But it has.” I sit down on her bed. Her socked feet just graze my thigh, and I can almost feel the strain in her body as she forces herself to keep them there. Not to pull away. “What bet?”