I know how selfish that is. How unprofessional. But after a glimpse of what we could have—short moments when he seems to open up emotionally, or physically—it’s impossible for me not to feel sad for myself as well as him.
Knowing he needs time—space—I let him avoid me for days. I thought that would be enough, that he’d be ready to see me by the time his hours were up. When he didn't come by on Max’s last day, I was pretty convinced I’d never see or hear from him again, until my phone beeps just as I’m drifting off to sleep.
R-You awake?
I stare at my screen, dumbfounded. Ryder’s never texted me before. It doesn’t make sense that he’d do it now just to make idle conversation. Then again, maybe he’s one of those people who finds it easier to talk if he’s not actually looking at the person he’s talking to. Lord knows, in person he’s not exactly an open book, so I guess I’ll take what I can get.
H-Yes
R-I miss you
Once again, I’m speechless. Or frozen. He misses me? That’s… Wow.
H-I’m here…
Delete.
You know where I am…
Delete.
I miss you too
Satisfied that my response is safe since it mirrors his, my finger hovers over thesendicon. Only another text comes through before I can press it.
R-They forced me to go on the mountain.
H-Forced?
R-Long story
A series of text bubbles pop up, disappear, pop up again. I bite my lip, willing my heartbeat to slow down as I wait for the words to fill my screen.
R-I wanted to hate it.
H-Did you?
R-No
H-Is that bad?
R-It’s not fair
H-Notfair to who?
R-You
I’m not sure why that wouldn’t be fair to me when Max is the one he’s been riding with. Actually, I don’t understand why it’s not fair, period.
H-Me? How is it not fair to me?
R-Because you’re dead
Oh my God.He thinks he’s texting his brother. How he got my number mixed up with Chase’s I can’t imagine, other than he must be wasted. That makes my reply critical. What do I even say to that? Do I tell him he’s got the wrong number, or do I keep him talking where I can at least keep an eye on him so to speak.Shit. I have no idea how to reply, but another text comes through before I can.
R-I wish you weren’t dead. I wish you could see the kid I’m teaching. You’d like him. And Hayden
My sharp inhale echoes through the room.Me? Before I can think better of it, my fingers are flying over the screen.
