Bittersweet Symphony (Bittersweet #4)(15)
She watches me, hesitating as her lips purse at me. I can see her thinking; her nose crinkles and forehead wrinkles as she tries to determine if I’m playing her or not. Her emotions are scattered, and I know trust isn’t something she gives out often. Trust is to allow someone in, to give someone something that’s capable of being broken. She and I are more alike than we thought.
Kennedy
He watches me intently, waiting for me to spill my guts to him. My deepest, darkest secrets. His eyes pull me in, wrapping me in a lush, green blanket.
“There’s no reason to be scared of me, Kennedy. I would never ever hurt you, nor would I ever allow someone else to do so. I know it’s hard to believe, even more so coming from a guy like me, but you can trust me. I swear.”
I almost want to laugh, and I almost do. Trust, coming from someone who told me the other day that allowing others in leads to nothing but heartache. What does he know about trust? Nothing, he knows nothing. Suddenly, the anger I had towards what Sam did is now directed at Ryder.
“What do you know about trust, Ryder? You’re the one always speaking in poetry riddles and shit. Blah, blah, blah, heartache, and all that crap. Tell me what is it that you know about trust?” I’m spewing hate, and I know it. My words are like a slap to his face, and if I were him, I would’ve already kicked me out.
“Trust…” he says the word like it’s not something that he says often, as if it’s foreign to his tongue.
“Yeah, trust. That thing we both know you have for no one. That thing you’re speaking about right now even though you have no experience with it.” I’m angry and sad, and I just want to be left alone.
His body leans into mine more, crowding me into the couch. A dark look passes on his face, and I can see him trying to keep his emotions in check. I can see him trying not to unleash the beast on me.
Strangely though, I want him to. I want him to let me in, so I can tear down all of this walls.
“Trust is something I had a very long time ago. Something that was kicked, punched, and yelled out of me. To trust someone is freedom. When you’re a child you trust your parents to love you and protect you, but what happens when they don’t, Kennedy?” Ryder’s breath is hot on my face as his words hit me. The coldness, anger, hate, and distaste are evident in every single word he speaks. I should be scared, but I’m not.
“I trusted my dear, ole dad to be the man of the family, to protect me, and teach me the ropes. But, he taught me more that.” His voice takes on a sinister tone, and I feel a shudder run through me as his finger wraps around a lock of my hair.
“When someone beats you, takes away your choices, and forces you to do things you don’t want to, you lose trust. You lose hope, and you lose the idea of love. I don’t believe in fairytales, Kennedy… but if I did… If I f*cking did, it would be with you. “
One single tear escapes my eye, all the emotions of what he went through swarm me. I feel absolute guilt for the things I just said to him moments ago.
“I… I…I’m sorry, Ryder. I didn’t know. I swear if I did, I wouldn’t have ever said such things.” With our faces so close, I can feel the heat in his stare, the passion that he feels deep down inside.
“I don’t want your pity; just remember next time you assume someone doesn’t know something, think about where they may have come from. Assumptions are nothing but judgment. Ask questions, and if you don’t get an answer, imagine walking in their shoes for a day.” The anger vibrates off of him in waves as he stands up and stalks off into the kitchen. I hear the banging of cupboard doors and drawers shutting. A moment or two later, he appears in front of me with a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream.
I take the bowl in my hands, watching him as he takes the seat next to me. Is he bipolar? Literally a moment ago he was pissed, now he’s all lucky charms and crap.
“Is this a peace offering or does it have cyanide in it?” I joke. The spoon clanks in the dish loudly as he drops it in surprise.
“Do I look as if I would poison you?” Right then and there I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not, but as I let out a weak laugh, I can tell he’s serious.
“It was a joke, jerk, learn to take one.”
“Word to the wise, sweetheart, I don’t do jokes,” he declares all matter of factly and shit.
“Word to the wise, Ryder, you need to learn to.” He eyes me and then bursts out laughing. His smile is genuine, and a warmth fills me as the conversation fills with a small amount of happiness. I don’t know all of his secrets, but I know enough to know that whatever happened in his past broke him the same way mine broke me.
“Your turn,” he says, his attention back on his bowl of ice cream. I watch him as he swirls the spoon in the creamy goodness and then dips it in his mouth, licking the spoon in a more than rated R way. Lucky f*cking spoon.
“Mine is way too long of a story, it would bore you and then you would fall asleep and your ice cream would go to waste and… just no,” I ramble, unable to form a coherent thought. I want to be that spoon…
My spoon glides across the bottom of my bowl, gathering a glob of the minty mass. I shove it into my mouth quickly, relishing the minty, creamy goodness. I let out a loud moan; the taste is amazing. When I open my eyes, I realize Ryder saw the whole thing, and now he probably thinks I make out with spoons in my free time.