Chapter Twenty
Twelve Years Ago - Evelyn
FIDGETING IN MY chair, the numbers go even more blurry…and eventually they start doing cartwheels. I’m pretty certain I will never, ever get this.
“Do you need help with that?”
My pencil tumbles to the table as I find Ben standing over me. We’ve lived in the same house for years, but these are the first words he’s offered me. All the kids keep their distance from Ryder, but Ben the most. And since I’m always with Ryder… it means they keep their distance from me, too.
“Are you… good at math?”
Ben lifts a shoulder. “Numbers are easier than people.”
“Can’t say I can agree with you on that.” I grimace. “My teacher gave me this practice sheet with the answers on the back so I can check my own work, but the math is not mathing. I’m going to fail the sixth grade.”
“If it’s just math you’re having trouble with, you won’t fail all of sixth grade. That’s not how the school system is designed.”
“Ben, I know that. I’m just…being dramatic.”
“Oh. Numbers are never dramatic.”
Unable to help myself, I laugh. “I could really use the help if you’re willing.”
Ben takes the seat next to me. “What are you struggling with?”
“This.” I push my paper over to him, the parentheses and exponents officially giving me a headache. “That whole mess right there. LEMAS…DEMAS…WHATEVERMAS .”
“PEMDAS?”
I groan.
“It’s a lot easier than you think.” Ben starts scratching something out at the top of my paper. “Just use the phrase ‘ Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally’ to remember the order. You can put this at the top of your paper until you get it down.”
Ben pushes the paper back to me, indicating where he’s written out PEMDAS at the top of my paper. Around the “m” and “d” is a little circle, same with the “a” and “s”.
“Think of it like a to-do list. You always start with the parentheses. Then the exponents, those tiny little numbers at the top right of the bigger numbers.”
Huh. “When you put it like that, it doesn’t seem so hard.”
“It’s not. As long as you follow the steps, the numbers won’t get all tangled up.”
“What comes after exponents?”
“Next is multiplication and division. Think of them together, because you do whichever one comes first.”
“Is that why you’ve circled them?”
“Yep.”
“Is it the same when I get to the addition and subtraction?”
Nod. “You’re getting it.” Ben hands the pencil back to me. “Try doing one of the equations now.”
Starting with the equation I’d just gotten wrong, I follow it step by step, using the little guide that Ben created. Before I know it, I’ve got the answer, and it’s time to check my work. Taking a deep breath, I flip the page to see if I got it right.
I squeal. “Ben!! I did it!!”
Ben smiles for a split second before he lets it fall, and he’s pushing away from the table. “I’ll see you later, Evelyn.”
Confused at the sudden shift of his demeanor, I glance over my shoulder and find Ryder glowering from the back door. It’s halfway open, as if he was walking in and stopped dead.
“Ryder?” I take in his black eyes, looking colder and meaner than I’ve ever seen. Even his hair seems darker than usual. “What’s that look on your face for?”
He scoffs and turns his back on me, heading back outside and slamming the door behind him.
I shove away from the table and stomp after him, opening the door with more ferocity than I should probably risk considering Cyrus is possibly somewhere in the house. “What is your problem!?”
Ryder keeps his back to me as he continues to stalk across the backyard. It’s only a tiny bit humiliating that I have to jog to catch up. “I’m talking to you!!”
“Seems like you’d rather be talking to Ben.”
“What? Why would I…” I trail off, figuring out exactly what’s going on. “Are you jealous? Because I was talking to Ben?”
Ryder scoffs before stepping around me. “I’m not jealous.”
“Sure seems like it.” I cross my arms, ready to hold my ground. I’ve only read about jealousy in books, but I’m certain that’s the cause of this outburst.
“As if I would be jealous of a four-eyed nerd.”
“Don’t be a dick. It doesn’t suit you.”
Ryder does a one-eighty, stalks right up close, and glares down at me. “Maybe it does.”
“It doesn’t.” I glare right back, staring straight though his wall of dickishness. “I’m going to go inside and finish my practice sheet. Once I do, I’ll grab a book and read under the tree. Will you be waiting for me there?”
Ryder says nothing. I roll my eyes and walk back into the house.
Taking my place at the table again, the practice sheet doesn’t even seem hard anymore. The numbers stay on the page, clear as day. I still make a few mistakes, but for the most part, I’d say I’ve got this.
As I check my work on the last problem, my eyes drift toward the back door and I frown. I’d like nothing more than to disappear into my room to celebrate how much of a mathematician I’ve become in peace and listen to Taylor Swift. I wish I didn’t say I’d go back outside.
Crumpling up my page into a paper ball, I make a deal with myself. If I make it in, I get to leave him out there to rot all afternoon as punishment for putting me in a sour mood. If I miss, then I have to grab a book and go out there like I said I would.
Taking a deep breath, I poise my wrist just right and aim for the trashcan. With perfect execution, I let the paper ball fly. It hits the edge and bounces onto the floor.
“Fuck’s sake.”
Scooping up the paper ball, I slam it where it should have landed—in the trash—and grab my book. This one is about a princess, getting swept away by her golden prince, who is moral and has fantastic manners. He wears a crown of honor and spins her across the dance floor.
It’s all very romantic.
Trudging back across the yard, book in hand, I don’t look up as I plop down in my usual spot beneath the tree. A breeze brushes through, fluttering through my hair and the pages of my book, but I refrain from glancing at the boy next to me.
“Evie?” Ryder sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things about Ben.”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.”
“I’m already apologizing, don’t be annoying about it.”
I snap my mouth shut.
“It’s just that, seeing you with Ben…who’s smart and…nice…”
“You didn’t like it.”
“No, that’s not it.” Ryder shakes his head. “It seemed…better. For you.”
My chest threatens to crack in half, and I can’t even concentrate on what I should say in response, my brain having completely disconnected from my mouth. Nothing in the world could take me away from Ryder, and there’s nobody out there who could be better than him. I should say it out loud, but I just drop my gaze and pretend to read as a certain feeling sweeps through me.
Heart pounding so hard it might quit, I can’t even see the words on the page, so I begin at one-hundred and count backward. Again. And again. Then I start at two hundred, waiting for my thoughts to even out with it.
“You’ve been staring at that same page for a long time.”
I gasp, completely mortified, my neck immediately getting all red and splotchy. “Don’t you know it’s rude to watch someone read!? This page is… particularly hard to grasp, okay?”
Ryder smiles, and all the progress I made while counting is lost. “Well, if you don’t mind taking a break for a second, there’s something I want to show you.”
That’s when I notice the splinters and cuts all over his fingers. “What happened to your hands?”
“That.” I look up, finding our names carved into the tree.
Honestly, he’s done a terrible job at it, but our names are there, carved into the wood of our favorite spot, and within a split second it’s everything to me. Ryder took his anger and his fears and turned it into something special instead, something that will last forever.
Or as long as this tree stands.
“Woodworking is a lot harder than it looks, especially with a shoddy kitchen knife.”
I laugh. “It’s perfect.” Reaching up to run my index finger over the lettering, Ryder grabs my wrist and lowers it.
“I don’t want you to get any splinters.” His onyx eyes have returned to their softer state, the way I’m used to. The side that the scary, dangerous boy saves just for me.
“Why don’t you let people see that you have a heart?
“I only have a heart for you.”
“Those are big words for a thirteen-year-old boy.”
“Doesn’t make them any less true.”
Feeling like I’m made up of mush, we sit back down and let the afternoon get away from us, my nose in a book and Ryder flipping his rusted knife. As the sun starts to go down, sky turning all sorts of pinks and oranges, Ryder starts to hum. It’s beautiful, the pitches and vibrations, but it makes me greedy for more.
“Can you sing the song for me?”
Covered in scars
Never seeing far
Lost in what’s been done
Afraid of what’s to come
When things get hard
And danger comes to pass
We can sit under the stars
Find ourselves on Mars
And even if we’re torn apart
This is the promise I can make
When the sea is dark
When the waves are rough
When the darkness tries to swallow you whole
There I’ll be
I’ll be, I’ll be, I’ll be
I’ll beee-eee-eee
Ryder isn’t the type of boy who grows up to be a prince. He doesn’t have golden hair or a crown of honor. He doesn’t care about manners or worry about doing the right thing.
In fact, he’s just the opposite.
And the scary part about it?
I don’t think I mind one bit.