Gyver followed. Hil did not. Even if she’d wanted to, her pride would never let her chase me in front of the other cheerleaders.
“Mi.” His voice was soft but condemning. “You don’t mean that. Don’t be an idiot; think about what you’re doing.”
I’m letting go! I cried inside. And you make that too hard. “Just leave me alone. Please. I just want you to leave me alone,” I whispered.
His face transformed into a stony fury I’d never seen before. “Fine. I’m done, Mia. Done. You’re not who I thought you were.” I watched him walk away from me, then turned and stumbled in the opposite direction.
I entered the first door I came to: the gym. Something about my face stopped Ryan in mid-drill. He froze with his hand extended toward the baseline, then stood and jogged to me. “You okay?” he asked, ignoring his coach’s whistle and calls.
I constructed a smile from the scraps of my self-preservation. “I missed you.”
“That’s all? Nothing’s wrong? ’Cause Coach’ll have my ass if I don’t get back to practice.”
“Can I have your keys? I don’t want to wait. My parents are out to dinner with the Russos. Have someone drop you after practice; we’ll have the house to ourselves. No interruptions today, I promise.” My manic sentences without breathing were more crazed than sexy, but I couldn’t pause. If I did, I’d think about what Gyver’d said. What I’d said … “How long till practice is over?”
Ryan inhaled. “Maybe I’ll fake an injury and come with you now.”
I laughed, but Coach Burne didn’t. “Winters! If you don’t stop flirting and get back to work, your ass won’t leave the bench till basketball season. Now, five extra.”
Ryan grinned. “I’ll do ten extra, but I’ve got to get my keys out of my gym bag first.”
I threw up in the parking lot. Gagged on the taste of my words—of the words said and those that remained unsaid. I woke up every morning with the intention of fixing things—but got into bed every night with the knowledge that I’d only made them worse. I couldn’t see any way to come back from what had happened today—I’d pushed Hil even further away. And Gyver.
I’m done.
I pulled Ryan’s car over and vomited again on the side of the road. My chest felt tight; it was hard to breathe. Maybe I was getting sick. I couldn’t think about it. I couldn’t think about any of it. I got back in the car and drove home at a reckless speed.
I showered, smearing on lavender lotion and plying eye makeup with a hand so shaky, a smudged-smoky look was inevitable. Only, instead of looking bedroom-sexy, it made me hollow eyed and haunted. I ransacked my pajama drawer—looking for something that didn’t emphasize my jutting ribs and collarbones—and settling on Ryan’s rugby shirt and ruffled boyshorts Hil had dared me to buy last spring.
I hated the idea of losing it bald, but decided that was better than my wig falling off during, which had almost happened last time. I knotted a pink scarf over my spotty fuzz.
Then I paced. And flipped through college catalogs—Dad had removed last year’s sticky notes and retabbed them with schools close to home. I paced more. Tried to prevent guilty Gyver thoughts from invading. Paced to the kitchen and unlocked the door. Tried to coax Jinx upstairs to keep me company. When I’d first gotten sick, she’d shadowed my every move. Lately she’d stayed downstairs and avoided me. Even my cat was judgmental. I gave up and paced back to my bedroom. Lit candles.
Midstride I was winded. I sat at my desk and tried to catch my breath. Then curled up on my bed when it wouldn’t be caught. I gasped and wheezed. Then fell asleep.
When I woke the candles were cold. Ryan’s car was gone.
Flipping on my lights, I blinked at a note on my pillow.
Wouldn’t let myself wake you–—even though
I wanted to. God, you’re sexy.
Call me when you get up.
I love you,
Ryan
I dug my phone from the bottom of my school bag. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he answered. “You know, you’re going to give me a complex. Or drive me crazy.”
“Where are you?” I could hear voices in the background.
“Chris’s. We’re doing a guys’ night. Poker and guy movies.”
“Porno?” I asked, not even trying to hide my disgust.
He laughed. “Um, no. That’s not really a group thing. I meant blood-and-guts movies. The kind you hate.”
“Oh. Oops. Will you come back over?”
“Not tonight. I’m going to hang with Chris.”
“Really?” I was used to be right there.
“Not tonight,” he repeated. “I just … I need a break. Things have been a little … intense. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” My voice was small. If I lost Ryan, I’d have nothing. What ever he needed, he could have, because I needed him. “It’s no big deal. Say hi to Chris. Have fun.”
Chapter 42
“Kitten, it’s been great to see you so energetic lately,” Mom said as I walked in from a “study date” with Ryan on Sunday. Really we’d been the annoying couple groping in the back of the movie theater, but she didn’t need to know that.