Bittersweet Symphony (Bittersweet #4)(23)

“Most people don’t have problems like us…” he trails off. He doesn’t really know all of my life story; the one time we talked about it led to him getting angry. If I didn’t know all there was to know about his problems I would think he needed some serious anger management classes.

“Either way it doesn’t matter. Everyone has problems.” I take the last scoop of ice cream and place it my mouth. I watch as Ryder lets his melt into a liquidly mess because he’s too busy staring at my lips.

“You’re right, enough moping, let’s go walk along the beach and talk,” he says, grabbing my hand and leaving me a millisecond to throw my cup into the trash. He tugs me along through the sand.

“What was it like growing up for you?” he asks, his hand still in mine. It feels heavy, just like the question he asked me.

“It sucked. My mom and dad were both druggies, so I stayed with my grandparents until college. They helped me with what they could, and the rest I had to do on my own.” It’s the truth. I work my ass off for my scholarships and hold down a job while attending classes. I want to make something of my life, despite its shitty beginning.

“Your grandparents must be the cute, old couple who hit each other with canes, then?” Ryder teases, a toothy grin showing.

“Hardly…” I huff out. “My grandparents are the sweetest people to have ever walked the earth. They would give you the clothes off their back, and they raised me to look at life for what it is. Sometimes it’s hard, and sometimes it’s not. Everything in between you just have to ride `out, make of it as you will.” I damn well near quote the very sentence my grandmother always said.

“Wish my grandparents were that awesome…” He says pouting. I elbow him in the side.

“My turn.” I say throwing him a cheesy grin as we continue to trudge across the beach. We could probably walk either way north or south for miles without an interruption.

“Shoot,” he simply says.

“Why did you come out here if there isn’t anything for you to do? If you don’t go to classes? And you don’t feel like being here suits you then why stay? There are tons of places in the world that could be your hide out. You could turn it into one of those forts you made when you were a kid. The one out of blankets? You could burrow yourself anywhere and no one would try and come and find you.”

He lets out a belly shaking laugh… “You’re kidding right? Did you just refer to moving as the same as building a blanket fort in the living room and crawling in it and hiding?”

I stop dead in my tracks. Is he laughing at me?

“Are you laughing at me? Honestly, that is probably like the best idea I’ve ever had.”

He stops, realizing I’m not following and turns around to face me. The water is lapping at our feet and the coldness of it sends a shiver down my spine.

“Will you make a blanket fort with me?” he asks. His face is completely serious, not an ounce of anything else shows.

“Of course. Back in my day I use to be the blanket fort Queen,” I say giggling. It is so easy to be free and myself with Ryder. I’m not on the lookout for Sam, and I’m not wallowing in my own self-pity of hate. I am living, and I love it.

“Oh really?” he retorts with his eye brow raised.

“Yes really…” I say socking him in the arm. Silence passes and his hand lands in mine again.

“Do you really think I could leave and let everything go? Let my brother and father go? Just… Let it all lay where it is?” He looks at me earnestly. Do I really think that? I don’t know. I don’t know if leaving would make it all go away, but I know it would help.

“I don’t think it would make anything disappear but I think it would make it easier.” I give him the best answer I can as I shrug my shoulders.

“You want to know something Kennedy?” Ryder asks, stopping and picking up a handful of sand.

“Duh,” I mock back.

“Had I not come out here, I never would have met you. So yeah, there might be shit in my life I hate and regret, but coming out here isn’t one of them.”

He releases the crystals of sand and they fall in tiny pieces, one by one, blowing away into the wind. In that moment I am certain of two things: Ryder isn’t as hopeless as he assumes, and I am falling for him helplessly, just like the crystalized pieces of sand from his hand.





Ryder


Could one really be considered an * for bringing a girl up to the ridge where he has taken most of his dates to f*ck them? The answer to that, I think for certain, is yes. Then again, Kennedy is different in so many ways. We share a mutual secrecy. She respects my choices and listens. I’ve had an awesome, f*cking day with her. Ice cream, the beach, and now I’m taking her up to the ridge.

In reality, it is just an opening on top of a bluff, similar to a “lover’s lane.”

I have a bottle of whiskey and the girl I want with me. Nothing can ruin this moment for me. This is my sliver of happiness in a shit filled life.

I throw the car into park as I watch Kennedy’s big, blue eyes survey the land. By the looks of it, she has never been up here. Hell, I haven’t been up here for the view before, so it is the first time I’m seeing it too.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, her voice clogs with an unknown emotion. I watch her as she gazes at the setting sun. Her blonde waves are shining brighter than ever. She looks like an angel, a beautiful, f*cking angel.