Page 62 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
“You don’t seem fine.”
I gesture at the camera. “I have to fix this.”
“You don’t have to do anything.”
“I do. I have to.”
“Put it somewhere safe,” Ryder says, “until you figure out what you want to do with it.”
“I’ve already figured it out.”
“No, you haven’t. You’re not thinking straight.”
“Don’t tell me how I’m feeling.”
“Alice, you don’t want to give this away.” He then leans in and lowers his voice to a whisper. “They only just died.”
He didn’t. He didn’t just say that.
I snatch the camera and stuff it into my backpack. Outside, the familiar crunch of gravel tells us our car has arrived. I’m out of the kitchen before Ryder can speak another word.
Thankfully, the ride to school is silent. I hugged my backpack the entire way, scared he’d rip it out of my hands in another attempt to force me to do what he wants.
At school, Ryder is quick to disappear into the crowd. I make my way through the foyer, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Pieces of conversation prick my ears. Yesterday’s hallway-camera debacle is still a juicy topic. Bets on whether I’m actually stalking Ryder are getting extreme. And it’s best to block out the ranking of whose video about me was best.
Gosh, I’m gonna hurl. Just how many videos are there?
I move toward the staircase and clock Jasper out of the corner of my eye. I hold my breath, hurrying my pace to the stairs. He’s weaving between people to reach me.
“I haven’t forgotten about the camera! You can’t hide from this!”
I grip my backpack straps, feeling the weight of the camera inside. It could all be over. I could fix the damage I had caused, and maybe some of my guilt would leave with it.
I step off the bottom stair and slowly turn around, ready to surrender.
Ryder appears behind Jasper like a shadow.
Jasper doesn’t see it coming. Ryder’s shoulder connects with his back, and Jasper goes toppling forward onto the polished floor.
“You have a habit of standing in the middle of the hallway,” Ryder says, stepping over Jasper without breaking stride.
Trailing behind Ryder are his bandmates and a cluster of giggling girls. Ryder doesn’t respond to them. Instead, meeting my eyes for just a second and giving a slight shake of his head.
He’s telling me no. Stopping me from interacting with Jasper.
Forbidding me, again.
Jasper groans and peels himself off the floor. If he were angry before, I don’t want to be around him now. I spin around and flee up the stairs, whispers and laughter chasing me.
Just get to class. Just get through the day.
I slip into my seat in English just as the bell rings. Jasper’s voice rings through my head. Does he really want me to pay for the camera? His father donated it. Okay, yes, that’s rich people code for Mr. Whitmore paid for it. But couldn’t Jasper’s dad just pay for another one? Or does he not want his dad to know because he doesn’t want to disappoint him?
I sigh and sink lower in my chair. He can’t possibly disappoint his parents more than I have.
Ms. Patterson launches into a discussion about symbolism in ‘What We Carry,’ and I can’t help noticing Ryder hasn’t entered the classroom yet. As the minutes pass, whispers rumble from the back row. Ms. Patterson hushes them the best she can, but since there are videos of yesterday’s humiliating scene, the theories and speculations are high.
The girl beside me, Chloe, I think her name is, taps my desk. “So, where’s Ryder?”
