Page 24 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
Before I can respond, footsteps echo in the hallway.
Ryder appears in the doorway, already dressed in his Ashworth uniform. The navy blazer makes his dark eyes appear even more intense. His hair is styled in that casual way that probably takes twenty minutes to achieve.
He stops when he sees me, his expression growing carefully blank.
“Good morning, Ryder,” Miranda says brightly. “The car service will be here in fifteen minutes. You and Alice can have breakfast together before you head out.”
I watch a muscle in Ryder’s jaw flex. “Inseparatecars?”
“I wasn’t in a position to get a second car to come to the house,” Miranda says in a curiously careful way.
“No.” Ryder moves to the coffee machine, his movements tight with anger. “Miranda, you said you’d keep her away from me. That was the deal.”
“If necessary, I’ll arrange separate transportation,” Miranda replies smoothly. “But today, Ryder, you’ll manage sharing your car.”
“I use that time to work on lyrics,” Ryder snaps, not looking at either of us. “I need that space to think. To create. That’s why I have the car to myself.”
“I’m sure Alice won’t bother you,” Miranda says, her voice still pleasant but with an edge underneath. “Will you, darling?”
I shake my head quickly, staring at the untouched food in front of me.
“Miranda, she can’t keep it together right now. Her situation is turning her into a ticking time bomb,” Ryder rants. “She’s likely to break something during the car ride and cause a crash.”
The insult lunges into me like a knife wound.
A car crash.
I would never.
My parents.
I would never disgrace my parents.
It’s not their fault they died.
It’s…
It’s mine.
“And besides,” Miranda continues, “it’s twenty minutes to get into town. It’s plenty of time for you to work through your creative process.”
Ryder slams his coffee mug down on the counter. “That’s not the point. The point is—“ He cuts himself off, jaw clenched. “Fine. Whatever. But I’m not making small talk. If she wants a running commentary on Victoria Falls landmarks, she can ask the driver.”
My stomach churns at the references to me as“she.”As if I’m not in the room. As if my name were a curse word. As if I’m the person he hates just for existing.
“Alice can handle it,” Miranda says, turning to get my full attention. “Right, Alice?”
I nod quickly. “Right.”
“See? Everyone’s on the same page.” Miranda checks her phone again. “Now, the car will be here in ten minutes. Alice, eat something. Ryder, try to be civil.”
She leaves the kitchen, her heels clicking down the hallway.
The silence that follows is excruciating.
Ryder pours coffee into a travel mug, every movement sharp and angry. I try to eat the croissant, but it tastes like sawdust in my mouth.
“Look,” Ryder says without turning around. “In the car, you don’t talk to me. You don’t touch anything. You don’t even breathe too loud. Got it?”
