In the Stillness(30)

*

I shouldn’t have gone to Lucas’s grave with Ryker. The ending would have been the same, but I wish I hadn’t seen the beginning. He drove, which was also another bad idea. I figured I should make a note of that for future reference, but determined that in the future I just wouldn’t go if anyone asked.

I offered to stay in the car, but he insisted that I come since I actually knew where the grave was.

“How was it?” he asked.

“How was what?”

“The service.”

I shrugged and shook my head in response, knowing no answer could possibly be right.

Before I could attempt an answer, Ryker cut in. “I mean . . . never mind, I don’t know what I’m asking.”

“No,” I encouraged on second thought, “it was nice. Proper. Sad. I stood with your dad and Tosha. I kind of lost it,” I said as I felt a boulder nestle into my throat.

Lucas’s grave was the newest one there, and the easiest to spot with the mini American flags and flowers around it. Ryker gave my hand a little squeeze before letting go and facing the gravestone. We met each other’s eyes for a split second, then he went down on one knee and rested his right hand on top of the stone.

Ryker spoke softly to Lucas—words I didn’t try to hear. I turned my gaze to the surrounding stones, wondering where they were from—what their stories were—until I heard an angry sort of noise come from Ryker. By the time I looked back to him, he was standing and walking back toward the car as if I wasn’t even there. I followed silently, but quickly, behind him.

He took off down the road as soon as I got in, barely giving me time to buckle my seatbelt. At the first stoplight, I turned to look at him. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel and when he looked at me . . . nothing. His eyes looked like icebergs lonely in the arctic, drifting for no one.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he turned his eyes back to the road.

I didn’t respond because I didn’t know what he was “sorry” for. What happened at the cemetery? What was about to happen? I don’t know if he knew, either, but “sorry” was the easiest way to fill that awkward silence, I guess.

We were silent for the rest of the drive back to my dorm.

“I’ll come pick you up tonight, okay? That way you can just leave your car here and not worry about it,” was all he said when I got out. We were going to a party at UMass that night.

Something else I shouldn’t have agreed to.

I only had a few hours before I saw him again, but they felt like an eternity. I paced around a lot, thought about calling Tosha—who was living with Liz in Amherst for the summer—but settled on a nap. Maybe when I woke up I wouldn’t be so weirded out about what had happened at the cemetery.

No such luck.

By the time we were walking into the party, I felt a physical shift from Ryker. He was rigid, anxious, and his eyes were darting around everywhere. I tried to act “over-normal”—whatever that means—because I swore it was just my craziness making Ryker look on edge. He was completely fine that morning.

“Are you okay?” I finally asked, after he handed me a beer.

Ryker leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I’m fine, Babe. Is Tosha coming?” He rubbed his hand back and forth over his head a few times before shoving it into his jeans pocket.

“She’ll be here. She just lives right across the street.” A gracious second later, I spotted her bounding through the crowd with some black low-lights tearing through her blonde curls. “There she is.” I took Ryker’s hand and led him through the sweaty bodies to Tosha.

“Hey Nat. Ryker, thank God you’re home!” Tosha hadn’t seen Ryker in the week that he’d been home. She gave him a huge hug, and his normal smile took over his face as he returned the gesture.

“It’s good to be home, Tosha.” He kissed her on the cheek and stood behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

“What in the sane hell did you do to your hair?” I laughed as I pulled one of the black strands.

She didn’t have time to answer before someone slammed into Ryker, throwing him into me, and causing his beer to spill down my back, which was bare from my spaghetti-strapped dress.

“What the f*ck, *?” The venom in Ryker’s voice caused me to spin around, where I found him holding the stumbling transgressor by the collar. His neck was red, veins popping out as he breathed through his nostrils.

“Ryker, it’s fine,” I whispered in futility under the over-pumped bass coming from the speakers. “Ry!” I yelled as a circle started to form around him.

He snapped his head toward me the second time I called his name and swallowed hard as he let go of the stranger’s collar. Wordlessly, he grabbed my hand as his eyes pierced through mine. As we pushed past Tosha, whose eyes were as wide open as her mouth, I shrugged and mouthed “I’ll call you.”

Ryker gripped my hand harder as we—I—speed-walked to keep up with him toward his car.

“Ryker . . . Ryker . . .” He wasn’t responding to me, but I watched his shoulders rise and fall under his deep breaths. My hand started to hurt. “Ryker, you’re hurting me!” I shrieked when I thought my pinky knuckle was going to break.

“Jesus Christ, Natalie, I’m sorry.” He almost threw my hand down and ran both hands over his head as he paced back and forth in front of his car. “That guy was such a dick, and I ruined your dress. Did I hurt you? Fu—”