I huff out a small laugh despite myself, shaking my head.
“Okay, fine,” he adds after a second, voice a little more real now. “I’m just trying to find an excuse. I’d like to take a walk with you.”
I feel myself smile. And a walk actually does sound really good after today.
“Okay,” I say, a little softer. “Do you want me to go to your house?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
A second after the words leave his mouth, I hear a smalltickon my window.
No way.
I immediately sit up, and walk straight over to the window to see him standing on the driveway. I lift the frame, leaning my hands on the windowsill.
“Did you seriously just throw a stone at my window?” I whisper, but loud enough that he can hear me.
“Do you want me to demonstrate it again?” With a smirk on his face, he leans down and grabs a little stone off the driveway.
“Okay, okay, I get it.” A laugh escapes me. “Why are you even here already?”
“Well, like I said,” he says, standing up again. “I want to take a walk with you.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Just give me a sec, I’ll come down.”
“Okay,” Ryan whisper-shouts. “I’ll wait outside.”
23
MADDY
Not yet
We’ve been walking in silence for about ten minutes, the quiet settling comfortably between us as our footsteps echo softly along the empty street.
Ryan nudges a small stone with the tip of his sneaker as we walk, sending it skittering ahead of us.
The night air is warm in that soft spring way that only happens after a long, hot day, where the pavement still holds a little heat and everything smells faintly of salt and blooming flowers.
I glance over at him. The dim light from the streetlamps catches the angles of his face, sharpening the line of his jaw and the bridge of his nose. Then I notice something I’ve somehow never seen before; a tiny scar just above his eyebrow. It’s small, half hidden where one of his curls usually falls. I wonder briefly how it got there. Something from when he was younger, maybe.
“Can I ask you something?” I say quietly.
Ryan glances over at me. “Yeah?”
I hesitate for a second longer. “…About your dad.”
He just looks at me, surprise flickering across his face like he hadn’t seen that coming at all. For half a second I think he might shut the conversation down, but then he exhales slowly through his nose.
“Yeah,” he says after a beat. “Go ahead.”
“I mean,” I begin carefully, choosing my words, “I always knew things weren’t great… but we never really talked about it.”
Ryan walks a few steps before answering.
“He drank a lot,” he says finally. “Yelled. Broke stuff.” His gaze stays fixed ahead. “Mostly at my mom.”
My chest tightens, but I don’t interrupt.
