“I’M A MURDERER!” he yelled into the darkness.
Maybe there wouldn’t be making out. I had bigger problems to deal with, like not going to jail for fictional killing.
“If you’re not gonna relax,” I told him, keeping my voice even and calm. “At least don’t yell that.”
“Imurdereda defenseless chicken coop.” Should I tell him how those worked? They had defenses. The whole thing was a defense. “I murdered a man’s money, his livelihood. Why was this a good idea? Why did you let us do this? Murder, is what I’m referring to, if that wasn’t clear—”
“You made itveryclear.”
“We murdered—"
“Stop saying murder,” I instructed and begged.
There was a pause. Score. Around one out of 10 times, Ryan mixes things up and listens to me.
“KILLED,” he exclaimed instead. “WE ARE KILLERS.”
That was his superpower, giving me what I wanted at the same time as giving me the opposite of what I wanted, and it didn’t even look like he was enjoying himself while doing that like usual.
“Jesus, why the yelling?” I didn’t have automatic windows, so I couldn’t roll his up. I wish my car was that fancy because it would probably be hilarious to see Ryan battle with child locks.
“Don’t mention the Lord,” Ryan scolded. “He’s so disappointed in us.” He made a gesture, which I think was supposed to be the sign of the cross but wasn’t actually anything. He also hit himself in the face. Good, maybe the slap would startle him back into normalcy… it would have to be a very powerful slap.
“Do you even believe in God?” I wondered. He would so start believing in God just to add to his guilt.
“I can’t handle philosophical questions at a time like this,” he answered without answering and turned away from me.
“It’s okay,” I tried to sooth.
We were about to drive by the diner, which was closed by now. I pulled into the empty lot. I turned off the car and put a hand on Ryan’s distressed back. I didn’t like that he was upset, but I enjoyed getting to touch him.
I kept my touch comforting and tried not to look at his back. It wasn’t even that attractive. His hair was all matted, and he dressed in black, clothes not accentuating his shape at all.
Accentuating his shape? God. I barely even knew that that meant. Wasn’t as if liking dudes gave me a clue about fashion.
Yet seeing Ryan’s back… all it made me want to do was put my front against it. Not even in a pervy way! I mean, maybe if things headed in that direction, but I just wanted to wrap him up in my arms. Especially as he curled up into a ball of sadness.
“I don’t have enough money to pay him back,” Ryan said, voice loud and panicked enough to be heard despite his position. “I guess I could defer college a year. Why, god I may or may not believe in, why? We didn’t even get caught and this is still ruining my future.”
And now Ryan was talking about not going to college just so he could pay back someone he didn’t even know? Why had I decided this was a good idea? Why hadn’t I asked for second opinions? I shouldn’t be trusted to lie on my own.
“Ryan, it’s not a big deal,” I tried. “The thing was old anyway.”
“Why are you telling me that?” He uncurled himself but crossed his arms in front of him and looked down. “That’s even worse.”
“What, how?” Ryan used logic right until the moment he decided he didn’t want to anymore; it was so hard to predict for that moment.
“Because it was old and he didn’t replace it,” Ryan reasoned. “Which means he didn’t have the money. Even if we would be doing him a favor by knocking it down, he doesn’t have enough money to rebuild. He can’t even make enough money for a new one because we destroyed it prematurely.”
Oh huh, guess that did make sense. The freaking out was starting again.
“It’s fine,” I tried again but not too hard because there was no way—
“And now I’ve led you down a dark road, towards a life of crime.” He spoke somberly. “You’re corrupted. You were going to be President of the Good Boys Who Do Nice Things and Aren’t Bad and now you’re going to be a filthy space hooker or something.”
Okay,there. That was the moment he abandoned logic. There was so much of that I didn’t want to touch.
“Ryan, we didn’t do anything wrong,” I assured in vain again.
