Page 64 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
I look up and find Ryder leaning against the alcove entrance. The hallway light casts a halo around his dark hair. Although his expression is somewhat blank, there’s something playful in his tone.
I can’t be bothered to deny the obvious and stay seated on the floor. “How did you find me?”
“Saw you bolt back there, clearly avoiding a classroom.”
My chin rests on my knees as I watch the dust bunnies in this forgotten space. “Well done, Sherlock.”
Ryder sets his guitar case down and folds his arms. “Still as feisty as you were this morning, I see. I hope that means you still have your camera with you.”
“Ryder, why are you standing here?”
He nudges the guitar case. “Band practice got canceled. Chase is out car shopping with daddy.”
It makes me look up. “The daddy who specified graduating high school is part of your record deal?”
Ryder shrugs. “Chase can buy his graduation.”
“Oh.”
“So, why are you skipping class?”
“Because I don’t want to be there.”
“I was about to call my driver.” Ryder pulls his phone from his trouser pocket. “You wanna head home?”
Home.
What a joke.
“Okay.” He sighs. “By the sullen look on your face, I take it home is the last place you want to be.”
I pat the tiled surface below me. “I’d rather sit here all night.”
Ryder picks up his guitar case. “No way. There are better alternatives than that.”
My eyebrow crooks with mild curiosity. “Like what?”
“Have you checked out the town yet?”
“Only from the car window.”
“It’s only a few blocks to Main Street. Why don’t we go?”
My stomach twists. “Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why are you offering? You’ve made it pretty clear you want nothing to do with me.”
The muscles in Ryder’s jaw tighten. Here it comes. The stony indifference before he walks off, leaving me behind without another thought.
“Because you look miserable.” He steadies the guitar case against him, his fingers tapping against it. “And I know you’re having a tough time with everything. It can’t be easy being reminded that they’re gone.”
My fingernails embed in my palms. “Don’t. Just don’t.”
“Look, I feel bad,” he says quietly. “I’m the only kid at school who knows what happened to your parents. Unless you’ve told somebody else?”
I swallow hard as my insides quiver.
