Bad Intentions (29 page)

The center comes into sight. I look right and left, but don’t spot his car anywhere. Too frightened to sit in the car by myself, I quickly jump out and sprint inside.

“Hi Miss Adaley,” I’m greeted by an elderly woman that I vaguely recall meeting on my first visit here.

“Hi. I’m here to see Ryle. Is he around?”

“Oh, honey, you just missed him. He and Richie went to an early movie. He’s right over there,” she points to where the small boy stands.

“Can I talk to him?”

She pushes a pad of paper toward me. “Of course you can, but you know the rules. You have to sign in first.”

After signing in, I walk over toward where I saw Richie standing a second ago. He’s no longer there. He’s nowhere in sight. “Richie!” I call out. A little girl notices me and grabs my hand. Slowly she walks us toward the direction of a small tent. I squeeze her hand to say thank you and bend down. Peeking inside, I find Richie. “There you are. Were you hiding from me?” I shouldn’t be surprised that he still doesn’t respond. Ryle said it might take him a while to warm up to me, but goodness. “I just wanted to see if you had fun with Ryle today?”

Still nothing.

I decide to sit down beside him in the small tent. Maybe he feels threatened by me. After a few minutes of silence, I start to get up. This is ridiculous. As I start to rise, a small hand snakes around my wrist.

“You made him sad and if he doesn’t like you anymore, then I don’t like you either.” Without another word, he crawls out of the tent and runs into another room.

I made Ryle sad?

I didn’t even drink last night. What in the world would I have done to upset him?

I stalk out of the building with my phone in my hand. As soon as I’m safe behind my wheel, I lock my doors and dial his number. Voicemail. I call it again. Voicemail.

Where are you Ryle?

I take off in the direction of his parents. If he’s not there, then I’ll go to his apartment. I speed down the road, no longer caring if I get pulled over or aren’t familiar with the roads. Their house comes into sight, but there are no cars in the driveway. I jump out and ring the doorbell repeatedly like a mad woman. Nothing. Radio silence.

“This is insane,” I huff while walking back to my car. I hit Tank’s name and press call before slamming my door shut. The window rattles.

“Hello, beautiful,” he greets.

“Dude, where did you see Ryle? I can’t find him anywhere and for some reason, he won’t return my texts or calls.”

“Coach called a mandatory meeting at seven a.m. I saw him then. What’s going on? Why does it sound like you’re crying?”

“Because I
am
crying. Richie told me that Ryle was mad at me.”

“Richie, as in the little dude he mentors?” he asks trying to make sense of my story. “What does he have to do with any of this?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Bye.” I hang up the phone and beat my steering wheel. It’s the only thing around to hit.

Pulling a psycho girlfriend move, I screech back onto the road and take off en route to Ryle’s apartment. If he isn’t there, I give up. The drive is short due to my manic behavior and lead foot. Skidding into a spot, I see his car. I don’t care if I have black mascara running down my face. I run to his apartment and bang on the door. “Ryle! Open the door.” My fist hits the wooden frame repeatedly. “Please, open the door. We need to talk.” I hear footsteps before the door swings open. My bottom jaw hits the welcome mat below my feet. “What…what are you doing here?” I stammer.

“What does it look like I’m doing here?”

My eyes rake
her
up and down. All she’s wearing is a T-shirt – one of Ryle’s T-shirts. I recognize it, because I’ve worn it before. “Where is he?”

She smiles, wide. “He’s in the shower.”

Bile rises in my throat. It’s on the verge of spilling.

“Naomi, who’s here?” I spot Ryle standing in the hallway with a towel wrapped around his waist. He really was in the shower, and she’s wearing his clothes.

Oh. My. God. This cannot be happening. He’s been cheating on me with her? I’m such a fool. I should have seen it coming. I’m going to… Puke leaks out of my mouth and hits the concrete on the bottom level. My nose and throat burn, but it’s a dull comparison to the ache that guts my heart.

I wipe my mouth and turn around. My boots slide against the pavement as I make a mad dash to my car.
Do not turn around, Adaley.
I jump in my car and lock the doors. Burying my face in my hands, I cry ugly, giant crocodile tears. I should have never left home. I should have stayed with Mark. At least I know he wouldn’t cheat on me. I straighten up in my seat and slide my gearstick into reverse. My bumper almost collides with Ryle’s kneecaps and for a split second, I really consider gunning it and running him over.

“Adaley!” he shouts my name while pulling a sweatshirt over his head. “Roll the damn window down.”

I tilt my head and look at the man I love through the driver’s side window. I can barely see his face through the steady stream of my tears. “What do you have to say that will make any of this better?”

“Excuse me?”

“You and her,” I whisper. “I should have seen it. I should have listened to her all those times that she taunted me about the two of you.”

“She’s a fucking liar, Adaley. I was about to take a shower when she showed up. Meredith and Thomas’s washer broke. They’re out buying a new one now, and Meredith asked if Naomi could come wash some clothes. What was I supposed to say, no? She needed a shirt, so I tossed one at her. She’s using our troubles to her advantage.”

“What troubles, Ryle? I thought we were fine. What happened last night, because I don’t remember anything? We had fun, and then you brought me home.

His stare drills into me. “You honest to God don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“The pills,” he grinds the words from between gritted teeth.

“Oh. You found them. I was wondering why my bottle was apart. I knew I was out so, it was weird. What’s the big deal?”

“The big fucking deal is I can’t stand drugs.”

“You’re being irrational,” I sniffle. “You know that my back is bad. I told you what happened.”

“You seem to have left out the part where you relied on prescription drugs.” His eyes are dark—darker than I’ve ever seen them before.

“I wouldn’t ever lie to you. It’s just something I don’t advertise. I don’t abuse them or anything crazy like that.”

“The bottle was empty last night,” he says straightforwardly.

“It was empty because it’s the only script I brought with me. I’ve been working out a ton and practicing routines to show the kids at the center for the next time we went. Excuse me for taking them as prescribed.”

“I don’t know, Adaley.” He paces beside my car. “You know that drugs killed my mother.”

He is not comparing me to his deadbeat uterus donor. “Your mother killed herself. The drugs just sealed the deal, but she wanted to die, Ryle. She wouldn’t have abused them if she didn’t.”

“Don’t you dare say another word about her.”

“Please just calm down and listen. I would ever never do anything to intentionally mislead you, but
I’m hurt
. Every day, my back aches. To literally function, sometimes I have to rely on those pills.”

“What you should be doing is relying on some
one
, and that someone isn’t me any longer. I can’t deal with this drama. I need you to leave.”

I look up to meet his eyes. They are flat, dark, and emotionless. “Don’t do this. Don’t push me away again. I’ve taken your shit too many times to count now. This might be what ends us.”

Without an ounce of remorse in his tone, he mumbles, “Then we’re done.”

I don’t have time to react to his statement before I see him walk away in my rearview mirror. He doesn’t look back as he marches inside. The only sound I hear before I drive off is the slamming of his apartment door.

“What happened?” Naomi is quick to question him as he walks inside. Anger has got to be evident on his face, so why she even asks is beyond him

“Don’t play naïve and dumb. Actually, don’t talk at all. You need to leave.” He’s had enough of her games, too pissed to entertain her nonsense right now.

“I’m washing my clothes,” she snaps.

Ryle stalks over to the laundry room and opens the washing machine mid-cycle. “Let me help you out then.” Carrying the wet load in his hands, he walks to the front door and tosses them onto the ground. “Let me make myself clear. You need to leave
now
.”

Naomi scurries to her feet, slides on a pair of sweatpants, and marches to the door.

As soon as the door slams, Ryle falls to his knees. This was not how he’d expected a confrontation with Adaley to go. He was angry, yes. But he thought that maybe there was a reasonable excuse. She could have had a simple procedure before she came to town that required a quick stint of medication.

I’m fooling myself
, Ryle thinks, as he scrubs his hands over his face. Deep down, he knows their relationship is too good to be true. In the end, the women in his life always leave.

Barging into my dorm room, I’m surprised to see Tank still sitting on my bed. He’s devouring a sucker like it’s his day job.

“There you are. We were worried about you. Did you find him?” he asks, as I reach under his legs and pull out a dusty duffle bag from under my bed.

I can’t muster up any words. I know if I do, I’ll fall apart.

“What’s going on, Adaley? Why are you packing a bag?” Zoe asks, as I sling items into my duffle. “You’re not leaving. Tank! Talk her out of this. No boy is worth throwing away your college education for.”

My heart is frozen. I can barely think about what I need to pack as I ignore them and aimlessly walk around our dorm, tossing items into the abyss of my deep duffle bag. “I’m not leaving forever. I just need some time away,” I say, trying to hold my tears at bay.

I feel Zoe’s hands on my shoulders. She grips them, pausing my rampage. “Can you just cool your jets and tell me what happened? This doesn’t make any sense. Whatever’s going on, we’re here for you. Just tell us what you need.”

“None of it makes sense,” I mumble, twisting away out of her embrace. The mere thought of Naomi and Ryle together, tears my insides apart. That’s precisely why I know that I need to leave – to get away. With a bag slung over my shoulder, I say goodbye. “I’m going home. I’ll be back in a week or so. I’ll email my professors and Kaiser.” Zoe open’s her mouth, but I stop her. “Please don’t say anything. Just let me go. I promise to call you when I get home, and I’ll explain then. I just need some distance from this place. From
him
.”

My tires squeal like pigs being led to their deaths as I floor the gas pedal and head toward the highway. My parents don’t even know I’m coming. They’re expecting me for Thanksgiving, but that’s a few weeks away. I pray that they haven’t turned my room into a craft room or something more awkward, like their own personal
Shades of
Grey
room.

Shaking those horrific thoughts from my head, I press call and prepare to hear how foolish I am for leaving home in the first place.

“Mom?” I ask as soon as I hear someone pick up.