Matt pulls out his phone and taps away on it. After a moment he slips it back into his backpack. “So how are you liking it here so far?”
I bite the inside of my cheek as I contemplate how to answer. “I like the people, most of them are nice. Teachers are decent. The food’s decent. I like my classes.”
“What all you got this semester?”
I run down the list. “AP Chem. U.S. History. Speech, obviously. Psychology. My afternoons are pretty light though. After lunch, all I’ve got is study hall and AP Calc.”
Matt gives a low whistle. “You’ve got AP Chem, Psychology, and AP Calc? Damn, that’s impressive. You must be some kind of genius.”
My ears burn. “Um, no. Definitely not a genius. It’s not so bad really. Compared with my old school, the material is a lot less intense. It’s definitely manageable.” Ryne scoffs from a couple of rows back. Surely it’s not directed at me. I peek over and… yeah. He’s glaring at me. What the hell did I do now? With a sigh, I face Matt again.
“Well, it’s still impressive. You sure you got enough time for the committee between all that and soccer?”
I nod. “Yeah, it’s all good. No worries.” I pull my planner out of my bag. “I’m even adding it to my calendar as we speak.” We eventually get back to the assignment and after a few more minutes I ask the question pinging around in my brain that refuses to be ignored. “How well do you know Ryne?” Matt looks up in surprise. It’s definitely a topic shift from how to best connect with your audience while giving a speech. But it could be related, right? I want to get inside Ryne’s head, and the more I know about him the easier it’ll be to connect. Makes sense to me.
“Umm, I know him a little.” He glances over at Ryne, who’s got his head down now, writing notes with his partner. “We’ve never been particularly close. He’s got his tight circle and he doesn’t step outside it nor do they let anyone new in. He’s…” Matt pauses and drums his fingertips on the desk. “Gruff. Yeah, that’s probably the word I’d use.” He blows out a breath, shuffling the papers in front of him. “And if he knew we were talking about him right now?” He presses his lips flat and makes a slashing motion across his neck with one finger.
At that moment Ryne raises his head and our eyes lock. I don’t look away as I ask Matt my next question. “Has he always been like that? Or did something happen to turn him into a giant grumpy jackass?”
Ryne’s eyes narrow. Crap, did he just read my lips? He sits back in his chair with his jaw set and displeasure oozing from every pore. When he holds up one finger and slowly beckons me with it, I jerk my head back and forth once. His expression hardens. I spin back around and scoot my chair closer to the desk. Matt clears his throat and lowers his voice even more.
“He’s always been a little touchy as far back as I can remember, although he was way less intense before his dad died. But that happened, and then his mom left, and shit kind of hit the fan with him.”
“His mom left?” That tugs at my heart.
I knew his dad had passed away. I read an article about it once while I was reading about Denly United. Sad thing, truly. It wasn’t until I made the connection at camp this summer that I realized Ryden Sutton had a kid. And Ryne’s mom left on top of all that? Unbelievably harsh. There’s no excuse for his hostility toward me, not really, but it’s at least a little more understandable why he is the way he is.
“Yeah, really not long after his dad died. I only know she left though, not why or what happened. My Grandma, my source of gossip around here,” he chuckles. “She didn’t share any of those details if she knew them. Ryne and his sister live with their aunt and uncle now.”
“Ryne has a sister?”
“Yeah, her name’s Rylee. She’s in some classes with my sister, Katie. They’re sophomores.”
“Huh. Wow. Okay.”
There’s so much I don’t know about him. So many more questions that will go unasked and unanswered, for now anyway, because suddenly I feel like a giant asshole talking about Ryne like this. Especially with him less than ten feet away. A few minutes later the bell rings and I gather my stuff slowly. Everything I’ve just learned scrolls through my head, the highlights replaying over and over like a news ticker feed. Matt jets it out of here to catch up with Lucy before the next period. I’m lost in my thoughts when a shadow falls over the desk and my bag. I know who it is before I even look up.
“You and Matt were awfully chatty today.”
“Yeah, so? I like to talk to people.” I zip my bag and stand up.
“It’s in your best interest not to include me as a topic of conversation going forward.” Ryne spits the words out with a sneer. I swallow hard and look up at him. My stomach lurches at the look in his eyes.
“We were just talking. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
He shakes his head back and forth slowly. “You are so full of shit, Becker. You walk around this school as if you’re God’s gift to the student population and the fucking eighth wonder of the world, touting on and on about your stupid AP classes. And now you try to stick your nosy ass where it doesn’t belong like you’re entitled or some shit. That kind of thinking doesn’t belong here. You don’t belong here.”
My muscles tense up and I blink rapidly. “Gee, why don’t you tell me how you really feel.”
“Well, Mr. Genius, I believe I just did, but okay. You’re a stuck-up prick and I can’t stand you. I hate everything that comes out of your mouth. I hate you. I think that about sums it up. And like I said, leave me out of your stupid conversations from now on. I don’t take well to gossipers and nosy-ass people. If it happens again there’s gonna be hell to pay. Got it?”
I nod slowly, and he shoves past me and out the door. I let out a shaky breath and head out behind him.
If I thought Ryne already had a problem with me, this takes it to a whole new level. The ridiculous part of my brain that always looks forward to seeing what snarky thing he’ll say next, the part that gets a thrill any time he speaks to me at all, suffers for the rest of the week. He makes the silent treatment seem overly chatty in comparison with what I get from him over the next few days.
I might as well be invisible.
* * *
