We were still the hot topic at the end of the week. I swear if our school were the Twitterverse, #ryley would have been trending. I overheard girls in the bathroom talking about us before homeroom on Friday morning. They’d already taken to combining our names. The biggest piece of gossip still going around was how Ryder had attacked Chace in a jealous fit of rage and broken his nose. While it wasn’t entirely wrong, the jealousy part was just a bit far-fetched, and his nose wasn’t broken—just really, really, really swollen. I laughed every time I thought about it.
Ryder didn’t seem too concerned that people were painting him as the jealous boyfriend. He took it all in his stride, whereas I seemed to always be defending him. When questioned about the fight, he would only answer with: What’s there to be jealous of? She’s with me; or It wasn’t a fight. It was one punch; or Chace is a tool and deserved it. I was surprised at how many people agreed with Ryder about Chace deserving it. Bradley McGregor, a boy from my art class, said Ryder should have done it a long time ago. Ryder knew how to deal with people and uncomfortable situations, that was for sure.
I managed to avoid Chace the entire week. He’d taken time off because of the damage to his nose. I think he was just embarrassed. But Sunday night just after I’d finished helping the Romanovs close the bookstore, I received a string of text messages from a number I didn’t know. I blinked at my phone a few times, trying to recall the phone number, but drew a blank. Thinking whoever it was must be texting the wrong person, I opened the first message and tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly appeared in my throat. I closed my eyes and shoved my phone back into my bag and took a deep breath. I couldn’t read them. Not in front of the Romanovs.
“Are you all right, my dear?” Mrs. Romanov came to stand beside me. “Is that boy coming to get you, or would you like a ride?”
Sniffing back the tears, I smiled at the sweet old woman. I didn’t want to tell her about the nasty text that could only have come from Chace. “I’m okay, and yes, he’s on his way.”
At least I hoped he was. Ryder had called me in the morning and asked if I wanted to grab dinner at the diner again after work. I couldn’t refuse. They really were the best burgers in town. Although I was yet to try his famous and even better ones.
It was only moments later that I heard Ryder’s car coming down the street, the engine rumbling to a soft purr as he pulled up to the curb. “Ready?” he called through the open window at me before calling to Mr. and Mrs. Romanov. “Hey, Mr. and Mrs. R.” I turned to say goodbye to the Romanovs and climbed into his car.
We rode in silence. The stupid text message kept repeating itself in my head over and over. I was too scared to open the others to see what else he had to say, but at the same time, I really wanted to know. I pulled my phone out of my bag and twirled it in my hands before throwing it back inside. I must have repeated that three or four times before we finally came to a stop at the diner and Ryder snatched it from me.
“Bailey?”
I looked away, knowing he was going to ask me what I was doing or what was wrong.
“You’re crying,” he murmured so softly I barely heard. I snapped my head around to look at him and tell him I wasn’t crying when I touched my cheeks and felt the tears. I was crying. Damn. “Why?”
It was a simple question with a simple answer. I was crying because my ex-boyfriend had just sent me a message telling me I had been his biggest waste of time. But for some unknown reason, I couldn’t tell Ryder that. I didn’t want him to start thinking like Chace and believe I was a waste of time. And I didn’t want him to know that Chace had upset me either.
“I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling well. Do you mind if we just go home?” Ryder didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway and handed me back my phone. I was grateful that he didn’t ask me any more questions. He just dropped me off with a simple, “See you at school,” before driving off. Ryder had an early soccer training session the following morning, so he couldn’t take me to school. This wouldn’t normally bother me, but knowing I could run into Chace and Christina alone made me a little uneasy.
Mum didn’t appear to be home when I walked inside, kicking off my shoes at the front door. It couldn’t have been a better welcome home—an empty house with no one to ask how my day was or why I was crying, because she surely wouldn’t believe my lie about feeling sick. She’d see straight through it and make me talk about what was wrong.
I trudged up to my room and sat on my bed staring at my phone. I didn’t know how long I sat there and stared for. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. I finally opened the second message from Chace.
Chace: Worst girlfriend ever.
I would not cry. I would not let him make me cry again. I ground my teeth together and opened the third message.
Chace: Ur just another notch on his bedpost. Don’t think ur special.
Chace: Cos ur not.
And then they came. The tears started to fall hot down my cheeks. No matter how hard I tried to stop them, they just kept flowing. It was like the harder I tried, the more I cried. My chest was tight, aching right in the middle. I stupidly opened the fifth message. I knew I shouldn’t have. I was only setting myself up for hurt.
Chace: Ur worthless. And you and ur loser boyfriend are done.
Pressing a hand to my heart to ease the pain, I slumped onto my side and curled into a ball. I was trying to wrap my head around how someone could be so heartless and so cruel. I didn’t know how I could let someone make me feel so bad. Was I really so worthless?
My phone beeped in my hand, and I clenched my jaw shut. Not again. Not another message. Sniffing back the tears and wiping them from my eyes, I tried to make out the small black text on the screen. It took a minute for my eyes to focus, but they did. I smiled. It was just a small and very brief smile before the waterworks came back full force, ripping that hole in my chest wide open. But it was a smile. And there was only one person who could make me smile when I was so miserable.
Ryder: Hope you’re feeling okay. Sweet dreams*about me* ;)
I didn’t reply. I just hugged the phone to my chest with Ryder’s message still on the screen and let myself cry.
***
Ryder was waiting for me outside homeroom. He pulled me into his arms leaning against the wall. “Ready to face him?” he asked.
“No.” I didn’t want to see him after our run-in last Monday. And I sure as hell didn’t want to see him after all those messages. I cried myself to sleep the previous night for the first time in almost a month.
I didn’t ever want to see him to again. It was easy to remember what a horrible guy he was when I didn’t see him or when he sent text messages like that. I could push the pain and hurt away, but it was just as easy to remember why I loved him when I did see him. It was just complete torture. Although, if he kept treating me the way he did that week, I think love could have turned to hate quite quickly. I really should have changed schools.