Chapter 3
“THE YOUNG AND THE HOPELESS” GOOD CHARLOTTE
A fter Ryder locked himself in his bedroom in the pool house yesterday, I gave up knocking and begging him to let me in.
It’s Saturday, which means he’ll most likely sleep in before he pops into the house to sneak a Pop-Tart.
Then he’ll disappear into his bedroom or walk into town to hang out with his friends.
Wanting to catch him before he leaves, I sneak outside with a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage patties, grits, and buttered sourdough toast with a side of blackberry jelly.
Minnie cooked breakfast and made him a plate.
When Dad wasn’t paying attention, she whispered that I should sneak it out to Ryder.
My steps are quick but silent as I rush to the pool house.
A shiver rolls down my spine from the cool air that leaves a bite of frost on the grass.
Ryder can tell me to leave him alone all he wants, but I refuse to let him rot away in his bedroom.
He’s always there when we’re home. He’s always alone, and I don’t like that. No one should ever be alone.
“Ryder,” I whisper-yell before knocking on the door. I balance the plate of food with my free hand and knock again when I don’t get an answer. It’s nothing new, but it still hurts that he’s treating me this way.
I test the doorknob and find it unlocked.
A smile tugs at my lips as I ease the door open, slip inside the room, and then quietly shut the door behind me.
It’s still dark, but the rising sun provides enough light through the window for me to see in the shadowed room.
Ryder lies on his stomach, legs sprawled out on the mattress.
He hugs his pillow like it’s his safety net, bringing him comfort, even while asleep.
I probably shouldn’t be bothering him so early in the morning, but I can’t help myself. He noticed me yesterday. Even defended me against Mickey. That has to mean something, right?
I tiptoe to his bed and ease the plate onto the nightstand. Glancing around the room, I ensure we’re alone before I crawl onto the mattress and curl against his side. His face is turned toward me, his eyes closed and lips parted with each deep, even breath as he continues sleeping.
All I want to do is hug him and apologize for yesterday at school.
I still feel awful about what happened. I didn’t get into a fight with him and his friends, but the fight happened because Ryder stood up for me.
He noticed the way Mickey squeezed my arm and used me as a shield.
I didn’t think Ryder would ever care, let alone demand someone let go of his little sister. His little sister.
My cheeks warm with a blush.
“What’re you doing here?” Ryder mumbles, his voice thick from sleep.
I stiffen and put a small amount of space between us, afraid he’ll hurt me for touching him. For a moment, I feel awful for waking him, but a rush of excitement replaces the negative emotion.
“How long have you been awake?” I squeak.
“Answer the question.”
My lips press together as his flat voice dismisses me. “I brought you some breakfast.”
Ryder pops open an eyelid. “Why?”
“Just because.” I shrug.
He closes the eye.
I lean forward after several silent minutes, worried he fell asleep again, but he turns his head away from me.
“Leave,” he mutters.
I frown and sit up with my legs crossed. “Can’t I do something nice for you?”
“Nice?” He scoffs. “Since when would you do something nice for me?”
I glare at him. “Am I mean to you?”
“No, but your friends are assholes, so in my book that makes you?—”
“Then I won’t be friends with them!” I feel awful for interrupting, but I don’t want him to finish what he was about to say. I’m not an asshole. It’s not me who’s shoving kids into their lockers or sticking chewed gum in their hair.
Ryder pushes himself onto his elbow and scowls at me. “You’re willing to give up your friends for me?”
I frantically nod.
A strange expression twists Ryder’s features before he locks it away. It happens so fast I’m not sure I really saw it. The familiar, emotionless mask settles on his face. It works the same as slamming a door in my face, preventing me from getting any closer to him.
“Bullshit,” he says. Ryder looks at the plate of food on his nightstand, and his eyebrows draw inward before they smooth out again. It’s the only emotion he shows before he turns his attention back to me. “I fucking hate scrambled eggs.”
I force my gaze away from the offending plate. “Then what do you like?”
“For you to leave.”
I swallow down a plea for him to meet me in the middle. Clearly, I have a lot of work ahead of me to get him to trust me, but it’s exciting that he's talking to me instead of ignoring me.
“You know,” I say, then trail off before I even start.
“I don’t care what you have to say. Get the hell out of my room.” Ryder sits up and runs his hand through his messy dark-brown hair, causing it to stand in different directions.
I blink several times. “Why are you being so mean to me?”
Ryder clambers off the bed and stares at the plate of food with the same bored expression.
It’s his eyes that give him away. Anger and hatred fill them, transforming his light-blue irises into a darker shade.
He looks seconds away from smashing the plate of food against the wall. “Because I don’t entertain bullies.”
My heart sinks to my stomach, and I suck in my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. When I don’t move, Ryder turns to me, and a chill rolls down my spine at the hatred in his cold gaze.
“Why would you say something like that?” I whisper.
“Can’t handle the truth?” He scoffs with a shake of his head. “You’re pathetic. Get your stupid ass out of here. I won’t repeat myself again.”
I leap out of his bed and hold back the angry tears threatening to spill free. Venom clings to the tip of my tongue. Words that would cut deep, much like how he cut me. “You’re such a jerk!”
“If that’s the best insult you can come up with, then you really are stupid.” He points at the door, his message clear.
I don’t understand what’s made him flip so quickly, but I don’t try to ask. He’ll only get angrier and come up with different ways to insult me.
“I came here to apologize, you jerk!” I storm out of his bedroom before he has enough time to dig the knife deeper.
The tears slip free by the time I get inside the house and close the door behind me. I swipe them away so no one will see them and ask questions. My dad won’t be around to see them, so that leaves Carolyn—my stepmom—and Minnie.
My aunt’s humming fills the silence. Once the lump in my throat unknots itself, I stroll into the kitchen. Minnie loads the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and turns it on. Sensing my entrance, she turns and breaks out the warm smile she reserves just for me.
“Hey, baby. Did he like it?” She pauses and tilts her head at whatever she sees on my face. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
The annoying lump returns and clogs my throat again.
My eyes sting with tears, and I look away from her as I fight back the sobs working their way up my throat.
I don’t want to talk to her about what happened.
It would mean explaining everything about Mickey.
It would mean admitting I’m “friends” with the school bully.
Minnie would be disappointed in me, and I don’t want her to look at me differently because of it.
She clicks her tongue and rushes to my side.
I curl my fingers into fists as she kneels in front of me and hugs me.
Minnie’s hugs always make everything feel better.
It’s like snuggling into a blanket when it’s cold outside.
She’s a bigger woman, and soft like a pillow, which makes cuddling with her comfortable.
“Aw, baby. You know you can talk to me.” She pets the back of my head in soothing strokes and gently works some knots out of my hair.
I bury my face in her neck as I hug her like my life depends on it, because it sure feels like it does. “I know.”
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.
I understand, honey, but I’m going to guess it’s because of Ryder.
” She kisses my temple while working her fingers through my hair.
“Don’t take what he says to heart, okay?
He’s a troubled soul, and sometimes it takes a little more patience and love for people like him to see he’s not alone. ”
I shake my head but keep my face buried in her neck. “You don’t understand.”
I’m a terrible person , I want to shout at her. He’s punishing me because of Mickey.
She tsks . “I may not understand, but I know things.” She eases away and forces me to look at her. “Patience, baby. He’ll come around.”
“Who will come around?” a man says from behind.
My spine straightens, and I turn. Dad stands in the kitchen’s entryway, dressed in his usual suit and tie, with his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back.
Minnie strokes my arm once before she stands to her full height.
Her easygoing nature fades until only a cold expression and tense shoulders remain.
I’m not sure why she changes when he’s around, but thankfully, it’s never directed toward me.
They’re siblings, and my best guess is they don’t get along, like Ryder and me.
“Girl talk,” she says.
Dad frowns. “I don’t like secrets, Mary. You know that.”
Minnie forces a smile. “There are no secrets here, Jerry. Just having girl time. Unless you prefer to hear all about a man I’m seeing. Do you need some advice from Madison, too?”
Dad’s frown deepens, and he glances at me, then turns back to Minnie. “You’re getting advice from a nine-year-old?”
“She’s ten, and yes. You’d be surprised at the wealth of wisdom she has,” Minnie says.
Dad waves his hand to dismiss her. “Stop going to my daughter for nonsense advice.” He turns to me. “We need to talk.”
Those four words bring a sense of dread.
What did I do?
“Am I in trouble?” I inch closer to Minnie for protection.