Page 175 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
“I needed my music box fixed,” I say. “I’ll let you know when I need anything else.”
The smile that breaks across his face is unguarded in a way I haven’t seen. Before I know if he’s about to cry or laugh, Ryder sinks in his chair and presses both hands flat against his face.
I can’t do it. I can’t melt for him.
I reach for his tablet and slide it across to me. I read over the essay he’s started. His make-up essay is about the town council in ‘What We Carry.’ He needs to make an argument for or against the idea that they’re the true antagonists of the novel.
“Your second paragraph is going to fall apart if you don’t address the heritage argument head-on,” I say, keeping my eyes on the screen. “You can’t build a case for the council withoutacknowledging what they’re asking the town to give up. That’s where Ms. Patterson will push back.”
“Huh?” Ryder lowers his hands, reorienting himself as he sees me reading his essay. “What do you mean?”
“Acknowledge the loss fully, and then make the case that their actions don’t change the story’s conclusion.”
“Okay. I’ll make the change.”
I set the tablet down with a sigh. “Do you really want to?”
“Huh?”
I slide the tablet across to his side of the table. “Earlier, with your parents, you seemed to make the argument that you’d get signed regardless of what happens at school.”
Ryder combs his fingers through his hair, sitting back in the chair. “Honestly, I wish I wasn’t enrolled. If I could, I’d just flunk out so I don’t have to think about it anymore.”
“You really hate school that much?”
“I don’t enjoy it. I spend every class thinking about riffs, lyrics, and compositions. I just want to be doing what I actually love.” He gestures at the tablet. “But I’m here because I want to show you I can make good on a promise.”
“Ryder, I get no kicks out of keeping you in this library like a prisoner. If you want to leave, just…”
“No,” he cuts me off. “I want to be here with you.”
I look at the tablet. At my notes. At anywhere that isn’t his face.
“That’s…” I shake my head and try again. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because we have an essay to finish and the showcase is tomorrow and…” I press my lips together. “I can’t think straight when you say things like that.”
Ryder doesn’t say anything, but he’s watching me with that same unguarded expression. The one I don’t have a defense for yet.
“The essay,” I say firmly.
“Right.” He pulls the tablet back toward him. “Heritage argument.”
“Heritage argument,” I confirm.
He starts a new paragraph and stares at it. I watch him think, the way his eyes go slightly unfocused when he’s working something out. I look back down at my notes before it becomes a problem.
“Can I ask you something?” he says.
“If it’s about the essay.”
“It’s not about the essay.”
I sigh. “Ryder.”
“Are you coming tomorrow night?” He keeps his eyes on the tablet. “To the showcase?”
