“It’s nothing,” I said.
“It’s definitely not nothing.”
“It’s nothing I want to talk about.”
“Maybe. But it might help you to talk about it anyway.”
“Who says I need help?” I snapped. “And who says I need it from you? It’s none of your business.”
Ryder looked wounded. “You’re my friend. Of course it is.”
I stared at him. “Is that what we are?”
“Of course. What else would we be?”
“I don’t know, maybe the awkward participants in a one-night-stand that you ran away from the minute you got a chance?”
“Ohhh,” he said, comprehension finally dawning. “I see.” He made a face. “But I didn’t run away. And it wasn’t the minute I got a chance. I waited until morning.”
“You lied about having an early class,” I said.
Ryder didn’t answer.
“And I don’t know what else you’d call it if not running away. You clearly thought I was going to confess my undying love and couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”
If my bitterness was audible, so be it.
“No, no, it’s not that. I promise.” He gave me an anguished look. “It’s me, not you. God, I know that sounds bad. But I don’t do relationships, is all.”
“Yeah. You’ve told me that multiple times now. And I never said I wanted one.”
“I know, but I just thought…I just wanted to be clear, I guess. I do want to be your friend, though. I meant that before and I still mean it now. And I would like to know what it is about Brandon that bothers you. As a friend.”
I stopped walking and looked at him. Really looked. He didn’t seem uncomfortable under my scrutiny. He just smiled easily. The late March sun cast a bar of gold across his face, lighting up the scattering of freckles on his cheeks.
Did he really want to know? He didn’t seem like he was lying, or just saying this to be polite. But then, I apparently had no idea how to read Ryder. Everything he did surprised me.
I didn’t have to tell him anything. But I hadn’t been able to talk about Brandon with anyone. And my heart ached to be spilled, for the pain to be shared.
“Brandon and I used to date,” I said quietly.
Ryder nodded. “I thought it might be something like that.”
“Maybe dating is too strong a word for it,” I corrected myself. “Maybe we just hooked up. We certainly never went out anywhere together, never acted like a couple where people could see. But we were together. For six months. Until he broke up with me, and I found out he’d been cheating on me. With Julie.”
Ryder whistled. “Wow. I’d say that explains the awkwardness.”
“Except he doesn’t even feel awkward about it,” I complained. “And I probably shouldn’t either. It was a while ago now. He’s over it. Why can’t I be? It’s pathetic.”
“It’s not pathetic to hurt after a breakup,” Ryder said gently.
“As if anyone’s ever broken up with you.”
“You’d be surprised.” He smiled sadly. “Why didn’t you tell me about Brandon ahead of time? Before your grandparents’ party, or at least before today?”
“Because I didn’t want you toknowI was pathetic,” I said. “And because Brandon isn’t out, and it doesn’t seem like he ever wants to be, so it wasn’t my secret to tell.”
“You’re allowed to tell the people you’re close to.”
