Landfill

Ryan and I were together a good month and a half. Things were steady, slow and wonderful. I loved being with him, he helped me through my little frustrations and took good care of me.

When the holidays approached, he and I both seemed to be draped with depression. I hated the holidays for the simple fact that it brought back lonely, unwanted memories of my childhood. I didn't know what Ryan felt; he never really talked about his feelings. He never spoke about his personal life much. I hadn't either.

A few days before my official 24th birthday, he and I went out to Queen Tea's for coffee. We sat in the back, beneath the soft glow of golden string Christmas lights. The decorations came out too early this year. The heat was cooling off here, but it was still a little warm. The afternoon dimmed, with us not speaking as we drank and watched people.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Ryan asked, his hand tight around his coffee mug.

I shrugged, "Does it matter? I've got Jimmy."

Ryan smiled, "It matters to me. What do you like... Or what do you really want?"

I looked at him, "Really?"

"Yeah, really. Tell what you want, sweetheart."

I crossed my arms, leant forward, "I want to know more about you."

Ryan's smile disappeared and his eyes adverted. His hand loosened on the mug, "Uh..."

"Just tell me what you're hiding." I jested. My hand reached out and touched his arm, "You never told me about your family-- I mean, you never went into depth."

"Neither did you." He countered, his eyes back on me.

"I'll tell you. What do you want to know?"

"How come you don't call your mom as often as you should?"

"It's..." I trailed, thinking, "She's never really paid me any mind, you know what's I mean? She was so busy working -her and my father- to give me things that I didn't want. She never gave me love."

Ryan blinked, silent. I rubbed my neck, feeling my body grow hot. I never said those words out loud. I've written them. I made Jack the Ripper's childhood like my own; then again, I did write about a psychotic rapist and murder.

"Do you love them?"

"Yes, very much." I answered truthfully.

Ryan sighed, "My mom and my dad divorced when I was 6. My mom left me with my dad, got remarried and had another kid... I think she has two now, I don't really know. All my life," he looked down at his mug, "I tried to get her attention, but she never really cared."

I frowned, feeling this emotion tighten on my throat.

"And my dad, he was great to me. He was in the Vietnam war, came home wounded and married my mom. After she left, he got addicted to pain medication and was drinking. Still, I loved him... I took care of him."

It was my turn to blink and become speechless. Though, I did smile, because Ryan is very loving and caring. I squeezed my hand on his arm, "I'm sure he's very proud of you, Ryan."

"Thanks, Nikki."

"So, um... You don't talk to your mom? Ever?"

He shook his head, "The last time we talked was when I was 11. I don't even remember what about. I did try and call her, but she was always busy."

"I'm sorry. She missed out, didn't she." I stated this happily.

Ryan chuckled, "If you say so."

"Yeah, she did." I spoke with conviction, "You turned out to be a great man."

"You think so, Nick?"

"Yes, I do."

Ryan moved his arm to take hold of my hand. He smiled now, his fingers squeezing mine, "How were you as a kid?"

"I was lonely. Weird. Yeah, kids called me a weirdo, because I used to sit by myself and draw. I never really talked, I liked bugs and creepy things."

"And the boys didn't like you?"

"I didn't like boys. I really didn't like anyone but myself. I loved writing and reading."

"My girl was a nerd."

"Not really. I wasn't into that supernatural stuff."

"Literary genius."

I rolled my eyes, "No genius." Ryan just shook his head. "Tell me how you were."

"Just a regular kid. I was kinda like you... But I watched a lot of TV and read a million books."

"See, TV didn't interest me until I saw Shawshank Redemption on some channel."

"You read it?"

"Yeah, I did, and then TV just sucked me in."

We both laughed softly, our hands retracting to take a drink. We both smiled at our movements.

"I think we met for a reason." Ryan said as he put his mug down.

"You were stalking me," I pointe out jokingly.

"I never stalked you," he still smiled, shaking his head, "I just saw you a lot. I did follow you the first day we met."

"I still like you," I rolled my finger over the lip of my mug, "Even if you stalked me."

Ryan ran his hand through his messy hair, "Brendon told me to go for it."

"You really did like me, huh?" I asked, almost skeptically.

"Of course I did. I saw you at the library, just sitting there, staring at your computer, and I wanted to talk to you," his shoulders dragged a bit, "I had zero confidence."

"When did you see me again?"

"I saw three more times here, at Queen's... And then, I saw you at Baskin Robbin's."

I laughed softly, "Wow. I'm surprised I've never seen you before."

"You always look down when you walk alone." He spoke observably, his eyes looked at me directly, "I always wished you'd look at me and smile or somethin'."

"Me too."

He exhaled, silence comfortably falling over us. Ryan licked over his lips, "Now, what do you really want for your birthday?"

"I don't know... I never really thought about what I'd want. Get me whatever, I'll be happy."

Ryan nodded, "Alright. I'm gonna surprise you."

We finished our coffees a while later and began our journey back home. Ryan had his arm around my shoulders, his hand holding my up towards my right one. I never felt so comfortable with another being -other than Lisa and Elaine.

I knew then that I didn't want to be with any other person than Ryan.


The following morning; early, early morning, my phone rang. Ryan and I were asleep in his bedroom, I could hear the damned thing ringing out in my kitchen. I moved reluctantly, leaving Jimmy and Ryan on the bed and beneath the covers as I made my way to the kitchen.

I picked up the phone, "What?" I grumbled.

"Sorry to wake you, Nikki," it was Molly, "But, there is urgent."

I sighed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, "What?" I repeated in the same tone.

"The publishers want to meet with you about your new manuscript."

"What?" Again, I repeated. "It's not even near finished. What the hell do they want?"

"They want to talk."

"When?"

"The day after tomorrow. The 8."

"Oh my God," I spat out angrily, "Where?"

"Here. New York."

"Like hell. I'm not going all the way to New York for a two hour meeting. Have them call me."

"No, you have to come here. You have things to sign as well."

"Fax them to me."

"You don't own a fax machine."

"I'll buy one."

Molly let out a laugh, "C'mon, Nikki, it won't be forever. You'll be here one day, on a red eye might I add, and then you can go back to your love shack."

I groaned, "I hate you guys."

"We love you, too, Nikki. I'll email you the arrangements."

"Yeah, whatever." I hung up and went back to Ryan's room.

He was sitting up, the early morning sun was peeking through the curtains, just barely. I climbed back into the bed, and beneath the covers. Ryan laid back with me, while Jimmy nestled on my chest, purring lightly.

"Who was that?" He asked curiously, wrapping his arm around my middle.

"Molly. I have to go to New York for a some stupid meeting." I sighed, "God."

Ryan moved closer to me, "Don't worry about it. Do you have to leave soon?"

"The 8th."

"You'll be up there on your birthday?"

I nodded, "Yeah. Sorry."

"I'm sorry. But, I'm still gonna surprise you."

I rolled my eyes, smiling, "Whatever you say, Ry."

He chuckled, "I still am. I'd come with you, but I gotta work."

"I wouldn't want you to come... It'll be a bore. I'm only gonna be there for a day."

"I'll be patient."

I kissed his lips, "I know you would. You're weird."

Ryan just laughed, kissing me again.