Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(34)
My heart drops. Free fall.
I wrap an arm around my waist, as if I can’t stop the stirring nausea, and thank my father for tonight. What’s expected. Then I hurry into the building and practically run toward my room. A few lingering stares at the girl racing through hallways like Cinderella trying to beat the clock follow after me, but I’m not concerned with them.
I just want to get out of this ill-fitting dress and into my pajamas before I scream. Chocolate is in dire need, too.
* * *
One thing is good: I don’t feel anxious today as I leave the lecture hall and head toward my lunch hour. I don’t worry whether Ryder will look my way, smile, come over and talk to me. For the past two days, he hasn’t so much as proven his neck can swivel, never mind acknowledge me.
Since the charity banquet, since my father so meticulously pointed out that I’m off-limits, it’s as if Ryder doesn’t even know I exist. Which is probably the way it should’ve been from the start. But I can’t pretend his sudden avoidance doesn’t sting. Rejection—even when it’s for the best—is still rejection.
For the most part, I’ve stopped obsessing over him. The more hours that go by, the more I find something else to fixate on that’s not Ryder related. Like fitting into a size two, which will stop the endless, concerned calls from Becca, and like Vee’s mission: her new raffle idea.
“You should just call it the Get Into Gavin’s Jockstrap Project and be done with it already,” Haley says to Vee from across the small table. We’ve decided to eat lunch off campus today, at a local coffee shop a few blocks away. Which is—okay, I admit—mostly why I’m not angsting over seeing Ryder. And I’m not entirely sure they didn’t suggest eating here for that exact purpose.
Right, so I’m still obsessing. But after what my father said…and the way I reacted toward Ryder after…how can I not? I feel bad, worried that Ryder took my father’s insulting probing to heart. Or, that he thinks I’m anything like him. It’s all so dumb. Me agonizing over a guy who probably hasn’t had one singular thought of me since then. A guy that I can’t have, regardless.
“A, would you please tell this girl I’m not doing the boosters for Gavin.”
I hear Vee’s voice, understand her statement, but my brain is having a difficult time processing the meaning. I push back against the cool metal chair and look between them. “She is,” I say to Haley. “But anyway, she’s already been in his jockstrap.”
Vee groans and Haley laughs. “So just suck it up and make your move, Vee,” Haley says, swirling a wooden coffee stirrer around in her cup. “You’ve built this up to epic proportions. It’s pretty simple, really. He’s a guy. Guys like sex. Offer him sex.”
On that note, I scoot my chair back and stand, reaching for my jacket. “I forgot Professor Hayden asked me to drop off my first pages before class. I slacked off yesterday.”
Vee nods, as if she remembers this fact. “Okay. You want us to head back with?”
I shake my head. “You haven’t even eaten yet, but thanks. I’ve got a fruit cup.” I pat my side tote.
They don’t know what happened at the event, but Vee’s pretty observant. She’s just giving me time to tell her on my own terms. I’m still not sure what it even is, or if it’s a real thing to be discussed…but it’s enough to keep my stomach in knots.
Especially since something as petty as the bonfire incident was enough to turn a whole college football team against me, it seems plausible that Ryder—whose mood can shift from cool to hot in a flash—was more than offended. What he said about filling out my dance card…ugh. That stung. But he seems kind of sensitive that way. His friends wouldn’t take up his defense so easily, otherwise. Or maybe that’s just team mentality.
Oh God, but I’m obsessing again. Maybe I should get that damn aftercare treatment. Or anxiety meds, something. This is getting stupid.
I force my feet to move, needing to get away from Vee and Haley before they figure out how unhinged I really am. Pushing open the coffee shop door, I head out into the chilly fall air, eager to get back on campus and gain some equilibrium.
I’m rounding the sidewalk corner, my hands tucked under my arms for warmth, when I spot Ryder sitting on a bench. Crap. My head lowers, and I brush my hair forward to hide my face.
There’re five benches from here to the West Hall, and of course he’s sitting on the one closest to the sidewalk. My feet start moving me across the grass, cutting a straight path toward the building, when I hear, “Hey, carrot cake.”
The debate whether or not to ignore him lasts a bit too long; the wind creaking the tree branches causes enough noise to feign ignorance. But that name just frays my nerve endings, and my spine locks taut. I pivot around to face him. “I thought we were past that.”
A smile crawls across his face, and his blue eyes squint in that adorable way. It’s like the past couple of days never happened, or maybe even the past few weeks. Like he’s attempting another do-over.
I suddenly feel exhausted. There’s no such thing as a do-over, and Ryder and I just don’t mix. We’re worse than oil and water. We’re Pop Rocks and soda.
But that doesn’t stop him from hopping off the bench and walking in my direction, shoulders forward, on a mission. “I don’t give nicknames to just anybody.”