Going Under (13 page)

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Authors: S. Walden

Tags: #fiction, #romance, #womens fiction, #contemporary, #contemporary fiction, #teen fiction, #teen drama, #realistic fiction, #new adult

BOOK: Going Under
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“Hey,” he said, addressing me. He was
confused.

“Hi,” I replied, just as confused. Why had I
come over?

“Ryan, when did you get a girlfriend?” his
sister asked.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Kaylen,” Ryan
replied. “Go away.”

I knew it was stupid, but the thumping in my
heart stopped altogether at the sound of those words:
“She’s not
my girlfriend.”
A pinch took its place, and I tried to ignore
it.

Kaylen shrugged and left the room. She was
no longer interested once she learned her brother’s relationship
status hadn’t changed.

“Your sister’s cute,” I observed.

“My sister’s annoying,” he replied, pushing
his hand through his tousled hair.

“Did you just wake up?” I asked, noting his
clothes.

“No,” he answered.

“Sooo, what’s with the pajamas? It’s like
four o’clock.”

He stared at me for a second. “Why are you
here?”

I hated when people did that: answering a
question with a question. It was infuriating.

“I just haven’t talked with you in weeks,” I
said. “I thought I’d come over and say ‘hello.’”

“Really?” He sounded genuinely shocked.

“Well, yeah. I thought maybe we could hang
out,” I offered.

The truth was that I wanted him to pursue
me. I think that’s inherently female to want to be pursued. And I
think Ryan wanted to initially, but I or he or someone else messed
it up. So I swallowed my pride and made my interest known, hoping
he would pick up where we started several weeks ago outside my
house. I knew I had no business doing it. How did I think I could
possibly juggle Ryan and Cal? We all went to school together, for
Pete’s sake. But in this moment, I didn’t care. He was standing in
front of me with hair I was itching to run my fingers through, and
a stomach I wanted to feel pressed against my own.

I admit my vulnerability. I felt it the
entire day, trying hard to keep myself busy to avoid confronting
it. Dad had to go into the office, so I was left alone. Beth crept
into the forefront of my brain, asking me why I wasn’t moving
faster, why I wasn’t working harder to avenge her, and I couldn’t
silence her. I tried by wearing the broken heart necklace she had
given me. I thought that would appease her, but it only encouraged
her incessant interrogation. I had to get out of the house. Ryan
would be the perfect distraction.

“You want to hang out.” He didn’t pose it as
a question. He said it with sarcasm, and it irked me.

“Well, if you’re busy I can go,” I said,
turning to leave.

“No,” he said, and took my hand. “I’m just
confused.”

“About what?” I asked, turning to face him.
He dropped my hand.

“I don’t know why you wanna hang out.”

He looked at me with those ocean eyes, his
brows furrowed in thought, and I decided in that moment I didn’t
want to hang out. I wanted to make out. Hard.

“Ryan, you promised you’d take me to
Lindsay’s house,” Kaylen whined from the top landing of the stairs.
She had an overnight bag slung over her shoulder.

Ryan never took his eyes off of me. “Any
interest in riding over to Lindsay’s house to drop off my
sister?”

I smiled and nodded.

“All right. Wait here,” and he disappeared
up the stairs.

While he was changing, Kaylen peppered me
with questions, successfully extracting all the important
information from me before her brother came back downstairs: my
age, grade, family situation, social status at school. I told her I
was the most popular girl in my class. She didn’t believe me, and
told me so, but I think she liked me anyway.

A few minutes later, Ryan came down dressed
in jeans and a dark green cardigan. He looked like a poster boy for
Banana Republic, and I liked every bit of it.

“Maybe Ryan’ll stop being such a mopey loser
at school if you start hanging out with him,” Kaylen said as Ryan
grabbed his car keys from the foyer table.

“Maybe,” he replied, and she smirked at
him.

The drive over to Lindsay’s was filled with
Kaylen’s chatter. I enjoyed listening to her. She was funny and
sweet, quick with the witty remarks, and there was nothing in her
manner that suggested something terrible had happened to her. She
was bright and talkative. Happy.

I realized I jumped to conclusions in my
moment of panic, considering the worst because Cal was so insistent
I stay away from Ryan. Naturally I assumed Cal did something
horrible to Kaylen and didn’t want to be found out. I thought I was
becoming paranoid.

Once we dropped off Kaylen, we returned to
Ryan’s house. He invited me to his room, and I was a little too
quick to follow. I kept telling myself not to pounce on him, but it
was hard when he made it so inviting by shutting his bedroom door.
I felt like a guy. Completely aroused with no thoughts other than
sex.

“I didn’t have to work today,” he said,
plopping on his bed. “That’s why I was still in my pajamas. I
finished my homework then played video games all day.”

“You did your homework first?” I asked, and
giggled.

“I have a good work ethic,” Ryan replied,
grinning.

“Indeed.” I plopped down on the bed beside
him. No point in trying to be coy about it. I promised myself that
I would only respond to the kiss, not initiate it. “So where do you
work?”

“A game store,” he said.

“Like video games?”

“Yep.”

“So you play video games a lot?”

“Yep.”

“You don’t strike me as dorky,” I said, then
instantly regretted it.

Ryan laughed. “I don’t think you have to be
a dork to like gaming.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Oh.”

“I do like the mechanics behind it, though,”
Ryan said. “So that may be where the dork factor comes in.”

I grinned and inched a bit closer.

“So how’s your mom doing in California?”
Ryan asked. He scooted a little ways away from me. I guess I made
him uncomfortable. I should have sat on his desk chair instead, but
it would look awkward if I moved now.

“She’s fine,” I replied. “I talk with her
once a week.”

“I bet she misses you a lot,” Ryan
offered.

I nodded. “I’m glad I stayed here, though.
I’m getting to know my dad all over again, and it’s fun. I probably
hang out with him way more than most teenage girls.”

Ryan nodded.

“Truth is, I like it. I didn’t know we’d get
so close so fast. It’s almost like there weren’t those years in
between when we didn’t live together.”

Ryan nodded again.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence, and
since Ryan didn’t look like he was itching to say anything, I spoke
up.

“So do you plan on telling me anything about
yourself other than you like to play video games?”

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

“Well, for starters, how long have you lived
here?” I asked. I ran my hand back and forth over his
comforter.

“All my life.”

“So you’ve been going to Charity Run since
ninth grade?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Do you have any other siblings?”

“No.”

“And what are your hobbies?”

“I feel like I’m being interviewed,” he
said.

I smiled. “Well, you don’t offer anything. I
have to ask.”

“Brooke, why don’t we talk about you
instead? You seem much more interesting.”

I started feeling frustrated. “I’m sure
that’s not true. Why are you so mysterious?” I tried to sound
light, but I think it came out as an accusation instead.

Ryan was quiet for a moment.

“Look, you probably don’t want to be
associated with me at school, okay?”

What the hell did
that
mean?

“I guess I’m a bit of a pariah. And I don’t
mind. I just don’t wanna drag you down.”

I looked at him, astonished. “Okay. You just
upped the mysterious factor by a trillion.”

He laughed. It sounded genuine, dark and
rich—that male laughter that’s so damn sexy.

I inched a little closer, and this time he
didn’t move.

“It’s your senior year, and you should meet
people and make friends and have fun,” he said.

“I’m meeting you,” I offered. It came out
sounding flirty and sensual.

Ryan chuckled. “You’re going to be my
trouble this year, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

Hell yeah I was.

I looked at him and let myself get lost in
those translucent eyes. I didn’t care if they held a bunch of
secrets he was unwilling to share. I just knew that I was hungry to
be touched, and to be touched by someone I wanted.

“I don’t even know you,” he said. He lifted
his hand to the back of my neck, brushing me lightly with his
fingertips.

“Same goes for you,” I replied. I grazed his
neck with my fingertips in much the same way.

It was incredibly intimate, sitting there,
rubbing one another’s necks, foreheads pressed together so that our
lips were mere centimeters apart. I thought it might be more
intimate than sex, and I didn’t know what I was doing. The rational
part of my brain screamed this was much too soon. The sexual part
cheered me on. The vengeful part scolded me for seducing the wrong
guy.

“I think you’re full of secrets,” Ryan
whispered.

“I know
you
are,” I whispered
back.

“All right then. We can each share one. But
only one,” he said.

“Do we get to ask each other?”

Ryan tensed for a moment, hand frozen on the
back of my neck. “I guess.”

“Why were you at Beth’s funeral?” I asked. I
didn’t even have to think about it.

“I knew her. She went to our high school. I
heard what happened and just felt like I needed to go.”

I felt the instant, unsettling tears in the
back of my eyes threaten to surge over my lids and ruin this
intimate moment.

“Why were you at Beth’s funeral?” Ryan
asked.

I swallowed. “She was my best friend.”

Ryan pulled away from me. I knew he would.
“Do you . . . do you know why she did it?”

That was a secret I was not willing to
share. I shook my head, lowering my eyes. I felt his arms go around
me, and I stopped thinking about Beth. I had spent my entire day
thinking about Beth. Right now I wanted to think about Ryan and all
the things he had planned for me in his bed. I knew it was too
soon, but I didn’t care. I felt his hand on my chin as he tilted my
mouth to his. He hesitated for a second before pressing his lips to
mine.

It’s always described as melting, and I
finally understood why. I thought my body was turning to liquid. I
could feel my bones giving way, threatening to dissolve and leave
me one big puddle of goo. His lips were incredible, soft and
supple, raining light pecks on my own until I shifted and
grunted—yes, actually
grunted
—in frustration.

“What do you want, Brooke?” he asked into my
mouth.

I whimpered a reply, and he kissed me
harder, finally giving me his tongue. That’s what I wanted. I
mingled mine with his, feeling a sharp aching deep inside my belly
that almost hurt. I thought that this was the guy I was always
meant to kiss, that everyone before him didn’t count for
anything.

Ryan pulled away. “I’ve wanted to do that
since I ran into you at the funeral.”

“Why’d you stop?” I asked playfully.

Ryan smiled wearily. “Brooke, I don’t think
I can be with anyone right now, and I can’t tell you why. It
doesn’t have anything to do with you personally. You’re beautiful.
It’s just—”

“Stop,” I said. “Let’s worry about your
issues later. Will you please just kiss me again?”

Maybe it sounded pathetic. Maybe I was
totally pathetic. I had no business getting physical with a guy I
barely knew. Oh, who was I kidding? I didn’t know him at all! But I
was learning his lips, and that’s something. Right?

The side of his mouth quirked up, and I took
it as an invitation. I lunged for him, pinning him to the bed and
kissing him hungrily. Yeah, so I was being aggressive. So what? He
didn’t seem to mind. He wrapped his arms around my waist and
squeezed. It knocked the breath out of me momentarily, and I
squealed.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into my mouth,
loosening his hold.

I kissed him harder, and before it
registered, I was on my back being pressed into the comforter by
his weight. He moved his lips to my neck, sucking and nibbling,
eliciting moans and cries and other sounds. It dawned on me that we
were both going at it like we hadn’t made out in ages. For me it
was five months. I wondered about my mystery man.

I pushed against him, and he released my
neck. He looked down at me.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“No,” I replied. “It’s just, when was the
last time you made out with a girl?”

His face turned pink. “Am I rusty?”

“No no!” I said. “I was just wondering.”

Ryan thought for a moment. “I don’t know. A
year?”


What
?!”

He sat up, leaning back on his heels and
pushing his hand through his hair.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. I felt
like a jerk.

“No harm done,” he replied. He moved off the
bed and headed for the bedroom door. “I was planning on going out
in a bit.”

I stared at him.

“Well, like now,” he said.

“Oh. You want me to go?”

“Well, it’d be weird if my parents came home
and found some girl in my bedroom,” he replied.

I felt humiliated. I
was
just “some”
girl, whether he meant it to come across that way or not. I had no
business coming over here. No business making out. No business
making him feel embarrassed. I was such an asshole. I thought only
guys could hold that title, but I realized girls could, too.

I got up and followed him to the front door.
We stood in an awkward silence before I walked away. He didn’t say
goodbye, and neither did I.

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