The Boy on the Bridge

I can’t say that, though.

My silence seems to feed into Anderson’s idea that all the blame should be shifted onto Hunter’s shoulders. “We can’t let him come between us, Riley. You say he’s a bully, so what? We’re gonna let him win?”

His words spark discomfort within, but not the kind he probably expects. “I didn’t say he is a bully, I said he can be.”

Anderson scowls. “What’s the difference?”

He asks the question, but doesn’t wait to hear my answer.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not some jerk he can push around. I don’t think you are either. I think you’re smart and strong and unique as hell; you have a kind of independence that nobody has… I think you’re great, Riley, and I’m not gonna let an asshole like Hunter Maxwell take you away from me.”

I can only stare at Anderson, honestly flabbergasted.

I wasn’t looking forward to dumping him because who looks forward to that? But I wasn’t expecting him to fight me on it, either. I thought deep down, he’d agree with me. I figured he didn’t want to be the bad guy, but I thought some part of him would be relieved when I initiated the break-up.

I was so wrong, I don’t know what to say.

Then he takes my hand, fire in his eyes. “We can get through this, Riley.”

I shake my head, carefully extracting my hand from his. “I think maybe you’re caught up on the idea of competing with Hunter more than you really want to fight for me. And I get that, but… no. I’m really sorry it went down this way and I’m incredibly sorry about the timing, but… Anderson, I want to break up.”

I feel like a monster having to reject him again, but he made me do it.

I can’t stand to look at him any longer, looking so defeated.

“You should go home,” I tell him gently.

That gets his attention. His gaze snaps back to me. “I gave you a ride here. Don’t you want a ride home?”

Hunter’s demand that I leave with him surfaces in my mind, undoubtedly causing me to look guiltier than I should. “No, it’s all right. I can get another ride home.”

“With who?”

“Anderson… we’re broken up,” I remind him gently.

“As of 10 seconds ago,” he snaps. “If you already have a ride home, I’d like to know who it is.”

I can see he’s upset and looking for a fight. I’m not going to participate. I don’t want this to get any uglier than it already has. “Look, go home or don’t, it’s up to you. I’m not ready to leave yet, so… I’m gonna go inside.”

“That’s it?” he asks, shaking his head.

I shrug. “Yeah, I guess that’s it. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

“You’re leaving with Hunter, aren’t you?”

I sigh softly, closing my eyes.

It’s all the answer he needs. I can see it on his face when I open my eyes and look up at him again. There’s a bitter twist to his mouth. It makes him look much less handsome than I always considered him.

“Maybe Chuck Whitehouse is right,” he says, slowly backing away. “Maybe you are a whore.”

My mouth falls open. I’m too stunned to speak. I don’t even know what I’d say if I could. It’s nothing that hasn’t been said about me before, but wow, it really stings coming from him.

I understand that he’s hurt, though, so although I’m insulted and I think that was a dickish thing to say, I don’t bother responding. I hold my silence until he turns around, and I feel more relieved than anything when I realize he’s heading to his car.

Chapter Twenty

Riley

As much as I don’t want to spend my evening at Valerie’s stupid jock party, I don’t really have much choice. Hunter said he wanted me to leave with him, but he hasn’t come back over since Anderson left.

No one else at this party has anything to say to me, so I slip into the kitchen and grab a Diet Coke out of the fridge—everyone else is drinking beer, harder liquor, or punch from a bowl I am certain has alcohol in it—then I slip away somewhere quiet where I’ll hopefully be left alone.

Valerie’s house is bigger and nicer than mine, but nothing compared to Hunter’s. There’s a well-lit back patio with a table and chairs, but a small group of people are already gathered there so I keep walking.

I find a little egg-shaped chair in a more private corner on the other side of the patio. It’s right beneath a back porch light, so there’s plenty of light for reading.

Satisfied that I’ve found my nook, I get comfy in that seat and draw out my cell phone. It’s weekend now, so I’m not in any hurry to do homework. That means I can read for pleasure, so I open my Kindle app and scroll through looking for a new book to read.