Four Doors Down(33)

I storm down the empty hallway after school and slam my locker open loudly. I’m so angry at myself I could actually slap myself. I stayed back after school to work on my art project but rather than focus on that, I instead thought about Charlie the whole time and then decided to call him when I was already in a bad mood. I didn’t even let him get a word in for the first five minutes, not until I realized he wasn’t speaking, and then when he did speak he sounded so cold and annoyed and I honestly couldn’t blame him. I don’t know what I was thinking. He pointed out that he doesn’t know what I do when I’m at school, but he trusts me and would never doubt me. He finished the conversation by telling me he needed some space from me for a couple of days, and now I’m scared I’ve really f*cked up and he won’t want me anymore.

I throw my books into my locker, taking my anger out on them, and I bite down on my lip to stop the tears of frustration that are threatening to spill over.

“Are you okay?”

I jump and spin to my left to see Ryan standing there. He’s wearing sweats and a t-shirt. On his head is a backward baseball cap and he’s carrying a sports bag over his shoulder. He must have just finished practice. I glance to the side, surprised that he’s unusually on his own. When my gaze stretches behind him down the hallway, I see Jake and a couple of their teammates further down looking over at us, almost as if he was with them but has broken off to come and talk to me. When the group sees me looking over, they turn and exit the hallway.

I turn my attention back to my locker. “I’m fine.”

“You’re upset about something.”

“It’s nothing,” I tell him, hunting through my locker. Where’s my damn algebra textbook!

“Tell me. Maybe I can help?”

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“Come on, tell me, Becs.” There it is again, that old nickname. I turn my head to look at him. He’s studying me intently.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not my name.”

“Yes it is,” he says with a smile.

“No. My name is Rebecca. Or Becca. Not Becs. It’s too…” I pause. “It’s too familiar,” I tell him with a sigh.

“Hey, Ryan,” two girls greet him, smiling flirtatiously as they walk past us. My eyes follow them, glad for the distraction, but when I turn back to Ryan, he hasn’t even glanced in their direction. His eyes are still focused on mine.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “You don’t want to follow them and see if there’s a spare classroom you can take advantage of?”

He smirks at me and glances away briefly before looking back into my eyes. “I’d rather talk to you,” he says quietly.

And I get it.

Just for a moment, I get why Ryan seems to have such an effect on the girls around here. Why Jessica Murphy is crazy about him even though she could have almost anyone else. How he seems to have girls lining up just to talk to him, how everything just comes so easily to him. When he focuses all his attention on you and those clear blue eyes pin you still, I can see what the big deal is. I mean, all he did was tell me he wanted to talk to me. God knows what it’s like for a girl when he’s actually trying to hook up with them.

“Tell me, Becs,” he repeats. “Is it Charlie?”

He’s asking me to trust him, to share with him whatever’s bothering me and for a second, I think I will. Maybe it would help to get a guy’s opinion to see where Charlie’s coming from and for him to tell me how I can fix this, but the truth is, I don’t want him to know my private business. I don’t trust him not to use it against me at some point in the future. Not necessarily to spread it around for gossip, but just to hold over me in case he ever needs something from me. I know we’ve been on better terms recently and my opinion on him is definitely starting to change, but he’s still the guy who screwed me over when I was twelve years old. And that’s something I can’t forget.

I shake my head at him and his mouth presses into a thin line. I know he doesn’t believe me. He knows it’s probably Charlie that’s upset me, that’s gotten this reaction out of me, but he also knows I’ve chosen not to confide in him. Chosen not to let him in.

I mumble something about leaving and turn to walk off, but he reaches out and grabs my wrist, gently tugging me back around to face him and pulling me closer to him. I pull my hand away from his grip, probably more aggressively than is needed, and pretend not to notice the look of hurt that briefly crosses his face.

“It’s Jakes birthday soon,” he blurts out before I can make an excuse to leave again. “His mom wants to throw a party and for it to be a surprise. She wanted me to invite his friends.”

“I know,” I tell him. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Jessica Murphy told me. She’s helping you arrange it, right?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m just inviting people for his mom. She’s doing the whole thing. I think a barbecue in the evening, and then they’ll take off and leave us the house to party in.”

“She told me she was organizing it with you. Right before she warned me to stay away from you.”

“She did what?” he demands. He looks genuinely angry.

I shrug. “Well, she didn’t say those exact words, but I’m pretty sure that’s what she was hinting.”