The Color Of Grace (27 page)

After that, he slumped lengthways across on the couch and
crossed one foot over the other ankle as he stared up at the ceiling. I sat
perfectly still for about ten seconds, not quite sure what to do. But Ryder’s
anger seemed to be spent.

He confused me. Why did he want to help me so much? Why had
he been paying so much attention to me to notice a missing necklace?

I peeked his way, but he remained motionless, lying stone
still and staring up at the ceiling with his forearm thrown over his face.

I wondered if he was thinking about Todd and Kiera, about
what he’d seen. I knew he probably wanted to be alone. I had to be the last
person on earth he wanted to witness his agony. But returning to Barry’s house
put a fear in my chest that kept me sitting exactly where I’d planted myself.

Slowly, I reached over and wrapped my fingers around the
shirt he’d not so graciously given to me. I inched to my feet and crept to the
bathroom. Inside, I hugged myself and cried a little more. It felt better to
think about teenage problems, so I thought about Todd and Kiera. And Ryder.

Poor Ryder.

I wasn’t that upset about Todd. On the plus side, I no
longer felt guilty about using him to get out of my house. Kind of wished he’d
never kissed me though.

He didn’t own the only pair of lips I hadn’t wanted near me.

Remembering the other set, I scrubbed at my mouth and
hurried to Ryder’s sink. As soon as I fired up the faucet, I washed my entire
face, took Ryder’s toothpaste and rapidly brushed my teeth with my finger,
hoping to wash away the impression Barry had left. I almost gagged as I thought
about it.

The words he’d confessed to me through the doorway of my
room kept stealing back into my head and haunting me. He’d wanted me since we’d
first met. Dear Lord, he hadn’t even been married to my mother then. Had he
only married her to get to me?

And all this time, she’d been so happy with him. How could
anyone betray my mother like that?

More tears fell. I spent about fifteen minutes in the bathroom,
trying to get myself put back together. When I exited, only one light remained
on, a night light by Ryder’s bed. He’d thrown the covers back over his mattress
in a sloppy attempt to re-make his bed and then taken one of his pillows; it currently
rested under his head on his couch. An extra blanket lay draped over his waist.

The bed was empty for me to use if I wanted it. Other than
that, it appeared Ryder hadn’t moved at all. He was still sprawled exactly
where he’d been before, staring blankly up at the ceiling with his arm splashed
over his forehead. He didn’t glance my way or even acknowledge my entrance as I
opened the bathroom door.

I didn’t want to sleep in his bed. I would’ve rather taken
his couch. But I wasn’t going to complain, in fear he’d throw me out
altogether. After turning off the bathroom light, I tiptoed to the bed, set my
clothes and shoes on the floor next to it, and crawled under his sheets.

It felt strange invading someone else’s
sleep space. But it was oddly comforting. I pulled the blankets up to my neck
and reached out an arm to click off the night light. There I lay, afraid to
move.

Ryder rustled around on the couch. Everything remained so
unreal. I was in the bed of some boy who only a few weeks ago had been like an
untouchable Hollywood actor to me, my “wonderful” stepfather had put the moves
on me, my mother and I weren’t talking, my best friends had forgotten about me,
and my non-boyfriend was cheating on me.

For some reason, I wanted to laugh. This had to be the worst
day of my life, or better yet, the worst few hours of my life. I lay there,
actually getting warm and cozy in Ryder’s bed, and realized there was no way I
was going to get any kind of sleep. I was completely exhausted, my body was
pooped, but my mind raced a million miles per minute.

From across the room, I heard a sniff. Two sniffs later, I
deduced Ryder was probably crying.

And why shouldn’t he? His best friend and his girlfriend had
just stabbed him in the back.

I would’ve thought that with my own problems, I wouldn’t
care about anyone else, but I felt bad for Ryder. So very bad. He’d been nice
to me tonight…in a rude sort of way. He’d been willing to take me somewhere and
get me help, he’d let me stay here and he’d tried, desperately, to find out
what was wrong. He wasn’t a bad person; he certainly didn’t deserve such
treachery from two of the closest people in his life.

I wished I could do something to make him feel better. I’d
never liked Kiera and honestly thought Ryder would be better off without her,
and without Todd too. Todd seemed about as superficial as Kiera did. But I
figured Ryder wouldn’t appreciate a good-riddance-to them kind of comment.

When I heard him move—a sound like he was sitting up—I
froze. The shuffle of feet on the carpet caused me to go stiff. Oh Lord, what
if he was coming toward the bed? What if he was no better than Barry?

Light footsteps moved across the room, but they moved away
not toward me before the bathroom door clicked shut. The light came on inside;
a line of brightness silhouetted the door through the crack around the edges.
Water, probably in the sink, began to run.

I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, listening
to the flowing water and feeling like a heel. Had I really just feared Ryder
would try something wicked? Barry had not only taken gross advantage of me, but
he’d ruined my perception of everyone else.

It made me mad. I told myself right then, he would have no
more of that kind of control over me. I would listen to my own instincts—not my
paranoia—when it came to trusting others.

Half an hour later, I realized water still ran in the bathroom.
My anger morphed into fear. What was Ryder doing in there? It wasn’t the shower
water, but sounded like a sink faucet, so he wasn’t bathing. It was more like
he was trying to muffle the sound of what he was really doing.

I didn’t pause to wonder whether he might be undressed or
exposed in anyway, which is what I should’ve thought since he was in a
bathroom. I was too worried, imagining all sorts of horrors. What if he was
overdosing or cutting his wrists? He’d just witnessed the ultimate betrayal
from his best friend and girlfriend. He could be doing anything.

Really working myself into a tizzy, I flew out of bed and
rushed barefoot to the bathroom door. I pressed my ear to the wood. For a
moment, I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the water, and then a muted
noise hit my ears. It sounded faintly like the moan of a wounded animal.

That was enough warning for me. My hand snaked out,
searching for the doorknob in the dark. I twisted and pushed my way inside.

I was expecting blood or worse.

I was
not
expecting to find him hunkered down and sitting on the floor with his back
against the wall and his knees propped up toward his chin. He cradled his head
in his hands, sniffing and trembling.

Lifting his head as I opened the door, he showed me his
face, his cheeks blistering red and his eyes filled with moisture that
glistened as the vanity lights caught his tears.

Eyes growing leery and frightened like a cornered creature,
he started to stand, looking as if he wanted to flee, yet there was nowhere for
him to go. I literally had him cornered.

“Ryder.” My voice cracked with sympathy as my heart beat in
my throat.

I let go of the door handle and rushed inside, dropping onto
my hands and knees on the cold tile before him where he’d already slid back
down to sit once more.

He wouldn’t meet my gaze, and stared adamantly at nothing
over my shoulder. “I don’t…” he said and had to stop to sniff and shudder out a
labored breath.

When he shifted his tragic gaze to me, my own tears gushed.

“I can’t…” he tried again, but it was impossible for him to
complete a sentence.

Leaning forward, I hugged him. He went rigid and stiff for
about two seconds before his body gave a final shudder, then he melted, going
noodle limp as he gripped handfuls of the back of the shirt I wore.

I let him grieve his fill, soaking my shoulder with tears as
he poured out his misery. He’d already been at this for half an hour and he
went for another ten minutes more. When he finally settled to the occasional
sniffle, he drooped, completely drained, and wilted against me.

“I don’t even know why I’m so upset.” He wiped at his
cheeks.

I helped him, dabbing a few drops he missed with my fingers.
“Because you feel duped, stupid, humiliated, betrayed, hurt. Should I go on?”

He let out a breath. “I think I’m more
shocked than anything. And I don’t know why. This is exactly the kind of thing
Stangman would do. Kiera too. Actually, I should be grateful he took her off my
hands. I mean, I didn’t like her that much. We never talked, didn’t even spend
time alone together. She only really acted interested when we were with a big
group. I think mostly she just wanted to be seen with me for appearance’s
sake.”

“So, you’re saying she was using you,” I asked, lifting my
eyebrows as I remembered a certain lecture from him about what Todd was doing
to me. “And you just let her?”

He paused and stared at me. I could tell the moment he
realized what I’d implied because he lifted an eyebrow. “Okay, Ms. Kettle, are
you calling me black?”

My insides swelled with joy because he’d actually caught my
meaning. “No,
I’m
the pot. You’re the
kettle.”

Together, we burst into huge grins.

But about as soon as he started, his smile faded. “Grace,”
he whispered my name.

My throat went dry; I couldn’t answer.

But he went on anyway. “I’m glad I finally know your name.”

Yet that’s not what he meant. From the serious expression on
his face, I could tell he really meant he was glad to know me, the person.

I licked my dehydrated lips, feeling the same way. His eyes
lowered to watch my tongue. I knew what he wanted and everything inside me
wanted it too.

My senses went on ultra-alert. I grew
suddenly very aware of everything. The cool of his tile floor soaking up
through my clothes and chilling my backside. The warmth of Ryder as I sat
pressed against him, our knees touching as we leaned on each other with our
feet stretched out in front of us. The smell of his soap and shampoo filling
the bright bathroom.

He wanted to kiss me. He was going to kiss me. Beginning to
tilt his head down, aligning our mouths, he moved in for the kill. I wanted it,
wanted it so bad I found myself tipping my head back and lifting my mouth to
meet his. From the first moment we’d met, we’d been working toward this moment.
And for once, the person who wanted to kiss me was the very person I wanted to
kiss back.

So what did I do?

The old not-interested act.

No, I didn’t actually yank back and say, “
Not interested
,” I sort of just froze
and whispered, “Don’t kiss me.”

He halted three inches away from making contact. I had a
very up-close look into his eyes as they crinkled with pain. Worried he was
going to cry again, I reached out and touched his cheek, needing to explain.

“This has been the worst night of my life,” I said. “No
matter how much times passes, I’ll always look back and remember how much awful
stuff has happened in the past few hours. And I refuse to spoil our first kiss
with all that filth surrounding it. Kissing you should be full of nothing but
amazing memories.”

Ryder closed his eyes and lowered his face until he rested
his forehead against my temple. I stole the moment to smooth my fingers over
his cheek. The bristly feel of beard stubble surprised me. We were grown-ups,
yet still children, and yet neither, stuck in that space between infancy and
adulthood, confusing and murky, where some tried to grow up too fast, others
too slow, and the rest of us were wedged in the middle, not sure which way to
go.

“Will you ever tell me what happened to you tonight?” Ryder
asked into the bathroom where the trickle of water still running in the sink
muted the sound of our constant sniffling.

I stared at the shower curtain hiding the inside of his bathtub.
“I don’t think I can talk about it tonight. It’s still too…”

“Fresh?”

Exactly.

He winced as he pulled back enough to look deep into my eyes
and seemed to inspect my soul for damage. “But you’re sure you’re okay?”

With a nod and a forced smile, I assured him. “I’m fine now.
I think I just…overreacted.”

Except I hadn’t. Barry had kissed me. No matter how I looked
at it, that’s what had happened.

As the questions and uncertainties rolled through me, the
fear and pain crept back into my system. Shutting all those thoughts down, I
focused on Ryder and took in his worried gaze as he watched me.

We really needed to get off the bathroom floor before my
frozen butt went numb.

Without speaking a word, I pushed to my feet and held a hand
down to him. He mutely took my fingers and pulled himself upright, blindly
letting me lead him to…wherever.