Um. Why?
I think it’s just smarter, I sent back after a few seconds. His girlfriend wouldn’t be happy with him being at my house.
Who cares about his girlfriend?
Ainsley!!!
I’m just kidding, she typed back. Though you’d think if it was a problem, he wouldn’t have agreed to come over to your house in the first place.
Good point.
It’s just easier to go to the library.
The bubble reappeared.
You’re weird, but I still love you and I have a question for you. A serious question. Totes serious.
My brows rose.
Okay.
Do you like Rider, like really like him?
The knots were making another appearance, but for a totally different reason. Did I like him, like him? The knots were pretty telling, but saying it made it real and something I couldn’t take back.
And I couldn’t make it real.
I liked Rider, really liked him, in a way that was so different than when we were kids. It was like being twelve all over again, but the crush this time around was much more powerful. And I knew it wasn’t right to have those feelings. He had a girlfriend and no matter how much I liked him, that wouldn’t change. I was okay with that. I had to be. What I was beginning to realize I felt for him belonged only to me.
It was all mine and no one else needed to know about it.
I exhaled slowly.
I didn’t respond, but Ainsley did with:
That’s what I thought.
I waited for her to say more, but when she didn’t, I typed: Are you still there?
A minute or two passed and then her bubble popped up.
Sorry. Mom was in here making sure I wasn’t setting up meetings with random thirty-year-olds on Facebook.
Knowing she wasn’t joking, I laughed.
Another message from Ainsley popped up.
Text me and let me know how tomorrow goes. I’ll need some entertainment while waiting at the doc’s office.
I frowned and quickly typed back.
What doctor?
Mom is taking me to the eye doctor to get new glasses.
Didn’t you get new glasses last year?
Yeah, but I don’t think the prescription is good anymore. I have crap eyes. Plus, I think I need to get prescription sunglasses. The sun is sooooo bright. Anyway, I’m going to be bored waiting, so I expect updates.
I stretched out my legs.
I’m not sure if there’s going to be any exciting updates.
Oh, there should be.
She added a smiley face.
There better be.
Setting my laptop aside when the conversation ended, I threw my legs off the bed and walked over to where I left my bag on the desk. I fished out my phone and went to messages. I bit down on my lip as I sent Rider a quick message about practicing in the library.
Once done, I placed the phone on my bedside table and then picked up my history text and got down to studying. It wasn’t until it was close to nine o’clock that my phone dinged. I picked it up, seeing that it was a text from Rider.
That’s cool, he’d responded.
For some reason, I wondered if it really was.
Chapter 17
Thursday officially became the day that would never end. The hours ticked by slowly and I turned into a nervous little freak when I left the class before speech and Rider wasn’t waiting for me. Immediately, my brain went into worst-possible-scenario mode.
What if Rider wasn’t in school? What if he really didn’t want to help me with my speech? What if he bailed? What if he didn’t want to jeopardize his relationship with Paige? All of these things felt like very real possibilities.
I hurried to class and took my seat in the back, my eyes glued to the door.
Paige came into class and I almost didn’t recognize her. She was wearing loose, black sweats and an oversize shirt. Her hair was pulled back at the crown in a ponytail, one not as sleek as before. As she drew closer, I could see that her eyes were slightly swollen.
She took her seat and as she dropped her bag onto the floor, she turned her head toward me. “What the hell are you staring at?”
Flushing, I cast my gaze back to the front of the classroom.
“Stupid bitch,” she muttered, and I flinched.
Retorts formed and then fizzled out on my tongue. I pressed my lips together, inhaling through my nose.
Next into class was Hector. He strode in, smiling at something Keira was saying. My chest squeezed at the ease in which she spoke and laughed with him. God, I wanted that.
My throat thickened, and I told myself that if Rider didn’t show, it wasn’t personal even though I knew I was going to take it personally. Just when I was about to face-plant the top of my desk, Rider moseyed on into class, notebook in hand and sleepy grin on his lips. Of course. He hadn’t bailed.
Tension eked out of my shoulders, and I told myself that I needed to get a grip.