Page 54 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
Ryder’s jaw clenches. He steps into the circle, ignoring the way people lean in with their phones.
“Where’s your next class?” he demands.
“I...” My voice barely works. “History. Room 308.”
“Get up.”
I try. I really try. But my legs are shaking too badly.
Ryder mutters something under his breath that sounds like a curse, then reaches down and grabs my arm.
Not gently.
His grip is firm, almost too tight, pulling me to my feet with more force than necessary. The strength of it makes me stumble, and my books nearly slip from beneath my other arm.
“Let’s go,” he says, already walking.
He doesn’t let go of my arm. Just tugs me forward, through the circle of onlookers, his pace fast and purposeful.
I have to hurry to keep up; my feet tripping over themselves as he pulls me down the hallway.
Behind us, the whispers explode.
“Oh my gosh, did you see that?”
“He’s totally walking her to class.”
“She’s probably loving this.”
Ryder’s grip on my arm doesn’t loosen. If anything, it gets tighter.
We turn a corner, leaving the crowd behind, and he finally lets go. But he doesn’t slow down.
“What are you doing?” I gasp, trying to keep pace.
“What does it look like?” His voice is clipped with irritation.
“You’re walking me to class. People are… they’re watching, they’re going to think…”
“I don’t care what they think.” He takes the stairs two at a time. “Right now, I care about getting you out of that hallway before you cause an even bigger scene.”
“I didn’t mean to cause a scene; I just…”
“You knocked over a pricey camera.” His tone is harsh. “In the middle of the busiest hallway in school, during the most crowded passing period. That’s a scene, Alice.”
My face burns. “It was an accident.”
“Yeah, well, your accidents are becoming a real problem for me.”
We reach the second floor. He finally stops, turning to face me, and there’s genuine frustration in his expression.
“I have a showcase coming up,” he says, his voice low and intense. “I only have a few weeks to nail down the performance that could make or break my entire career. I need to focus. I need to practice. I need every ounce of concentration I have.”
“I know.”
“And instead, I’m dealing with this.” He gestures back toward the stairs, toward the hallway of chaos we left behind. “Whatever that was back there. More drama, and more of your messes that somehow become my problem.”
“I didn’t ask you to...”
