Lying Out Loud(52)

“Hey, listen, Ryder,” I said. “Are you … are you busy this weekend?”

He raised an eyebrow, and I realized with a jolt what my question must have sounded like.

“Just to hang out … as friends,” I added. I almost told him that I needed to talk to him about something, but I knew that would just solicit too many questions. I wanted to tell him on the weekend, sometime when he wouldn’t have to see me the next day. I figured it would be kinder to the both of us.

“Actually,” he said, brightening, “I was going to invite you to a party. I’ve somehow managed to acquire an invitation to Chris Lawson’s on Friday night. I guess my efforts to be less of an * have paid off.”

A party wasn’t exactly the scenario I’d had in mind — again, too many of our classmates would be around. But at least the music would be loud enough that, hopefully, no one would hear him screaming at me. Or maybe I could pull him into a bedroom or somewhere outside. Or, even better, I could get him drunk before I told him the truth.

Or maybe I just secretly wanted to go to a party with Ryder Cross at least one time before this all fell apart.

“That sounds great,” I said. But then, knowing what he might say next, I preemptively added, “I don’t think Amy can come, though. She’s got plans this Friday. With her parents.”

“Oh,” he said. But he didn’t look as disappointed as I’d expected. I tried not to read too much into that. “Well, that’s fine. We can still hang out, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sure. If you’re okay with that.”

“I am,” he said. He smiled. “It’ll be fun. I’m actually excited to go to a party here. Maybe finally make some friends. Show people I’m not a pretentious snob.”

“Oh, Ryder.” I sighed. “You are a pretentious snob … but you have a few redeeming qualities. Namely that you’re rich.”

“Ha-ha,” he said. “I was wrong. You’re not off today. You’re very Sonny.”

“And by ‘Sonny,’ you mean delightful?”


Mr. Buckley walked in then, and Ryder had to turn back around in his seat. I was relieved, honestly. The more I talked to Ryder, the less I wanted to tell him the truth. And not telling the truth wasn’t an option anymore. I’d promised Amy, and I was going to follow through on it. No matter how hard it might be.

Or how much it might break my heart.

*

“So you’re telling him tonight?”

“Yep.”

It was Friday, which meant I’d survived the past two days seeing Ryder in class, knowing the end was coming. But here we were, an hour before the party, and I could almost hear the countdown in my head, ticking away like one of those time bombs on TV.

Amy stood up and grabbed the pick from my hand. “You’re going to rip your hair out,” she said. “It’s gonna be okay, Sonny.”

I stared at the mirror over Amy’s dresser as she took a section of my hair and began combing through the curls herself. I’d already done my makeup twice, but it still didn’t look right. Probably because I never really wore makeup. But waiting for the party for hours after school was too nerve-racking. I needed something to do with my hands. Something I could do and erase and redo to perfection. Not that I’d achieved makeup perfection.

“It won’t be as bad as you think,” she said, moving to another section of hair.

“He’s going to hate me, Amy.”

“No, he won’t.”

“Just because you’re so forgiving doesn’t mean everyone else is.” I tugged on the sleeve of my sweater. It was too tight and the turtleneck was choking me. “He’ll never speak to me again.”

Amy didn’t say anything as she finished with my hair. Under her careful guidance, my curls actually looked nice. She smiled at her handiwork, our eyes meeting in the mirror.

“Thanks,” I said.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a tight hug. “I know this is hard, but it means a lot to me.”

I nodded and leaned my head on her shoulder. “I should’ve done it a long time ago. I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this. I really didn’t think it would go this far, but …”

“But it ends tonight,” she said. She released me and brushed a few of my curls behind my ear. “And you’ll feel so much better afterward.”

I nodded, though I knew it wasn’t true.

“And who knows?” she said. “You two have a connection. You’ve said so yourself. Maybe once he learns the truth, he’ll recognize that. Maybe he’ll understand and you two will finally —”

“Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t give me false hope.”

“I reject and deny the notion of ‘false hope.’ Hope is never false.” She put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. “If he’s smart, he’ll listen. He might be mad, but he’ll hear you out and realize how perfect you are for him.”

But I knew Ryder. He may have been smart, but he held a grudge. He’d gone from practically worshipping his father to wanting nothing to do with him. What his father had done was awful, no doubt, but he was still his family. And who was I? The best friend of the girl he thought he liked? The annoying girl from history class? He owed me no loyalty.