Landfill

Ryan drank the drink I got him. He looked better than a few moments before; but still flushed. I looked him over, "Will you please tell me what's wrong?"

He set the glass down on the coffee table, inhaling before looking back at me. "I just want to go." He answered.

That wasn't good enough for me.

"Did something happen?" I asked.

He shook his head, "No, I just thought we'd go on a vacation."

I smiled faintly, "Is that all?"

I knew it wasn't.

He nodded, "That's all."

"If there's anything wrong, you can tell me, Ryan." I sat beside him, my hand taking hold of his.

He licked his lips, "Could we just go?"

I knew that he wouldn't tell me unless we did leave. I broke down and agreed, nodding, "Yeah. Sure. I could read the scripts when we return."

Ryan smiled, leaned in and kissed me. I felt my stomach ease over, my hand squeezing his. I was a big mess of emotions, but the kiss smoothed them over, for now.


Brendon agreed to watch the apartment for us. Ryan and I packed a few things; we'd be gone for a couple days, almost a week. I was still confused on the whole matter, but decided not to bring it up until we got wherever Ryan wanted to go.

He got a car from Spencer, and then we loaded it up. I was sort of numb to the whole thing; until we were actually in the car. The car was filled with some music, the Beatles, and my head filled with questions and thoughts of Ryan's mysterious ways and words.

"Will you tell me what's going on?" I finally asked once the CD stopped and the only sound was the tires spinning on the skidded highway.

Ryan didn't look at me. He seemed aloof, no care at all. "I'll tell you soon."

"How soon?"

"When we get to the hotel. This is really why I wanted to get out of town." He muttered briefly.

I felt nervous as soon as those words left his mouth. I could only stare at him, his eyes focused ahead. "Please look at me." I said to him.

Ryan continued staring ahead, and then he took an exit. A minute it or so later, he pulled over at a gas station. The tank was full, he pulled up beside the building and parked. He pressed his head against the steering wheel, shutting the car off, "Nikki, you won't be angry with me, will you?"

"Look at me." I said instead.

He sighed and looked up at me. He looked desperate; a silent desperation to his large, brown eyes. I licked over my lips, "What's going on?" I asked again.

"It has to wait. I can't stay in the car with you if you're angry with me, sweetheart."

I blinked, "I won't."

"It has to wait... I think it'll go over better if we're both in a room and not on the road."

I didn't get what he was getting at. I think wherever he'd tell me whatever he was keeping from me wouldn't matter. How I took it would matter, I believe.

"Will you get me some cigarettes?" I asked him.

He sat up and nodded, "Anything else?"

"Chocolate milk."

Ryan smiled, "Alright."

I couldn't tell if I was smiling or not. My face felt numb, or maybe I held a grimace. I wasn't sure what the fuck was happening.

Ryan got out the car and jogged around to the front of the store. My leg started bouncing as soon as he was out of sight. I knew that we were only hours away from California and the anticipation was killing me.


I smoked nearly the whole pack before we actually got to the hotel. I slept only a little, and the music drifted throughout the car while Ryan drove. He didn't want me to drive, which I would've done, but he insisted on continuing on.

When we finally arrived, it was this large hotel that looked like the ones I usually stay at; curtesy of the publishers. "This is where we're staying?" I asked Ryan.

"Yeah." He answered, driving straight to the parking garage. "I know what you're thinking, but I can afford it."

"That's not what I was thinking actually. I was thinking about all the hotels Anchor puts me in when I have meetings; they look like this."

Ryan didn't reply, he kept driving until he found a parking. He sat for a moment, until I opened the car door and climbed out. The two of us grabbed out bags from the trunk and proceeded into the hotel.

We went to the front desk, where Ryan checked in, got our key cards and then took hold of my free hand. My anxiety shot through me in an instant; as I knew that this was it. I took in deep breaths as we got on the elevator and rode up to our floor. He still held my hand, leading me to the room. I felt my heart beating so hard against my breast bone, nearly killing me.

He let go of my hand to open the door, and then pushed the door open. Once inside, we dropped our bags and I sat on the bed, grabbing my remaining cigarettes from my pocket and lit one. "Where are we?" I asked him.

"Just outside LA." He sat down beside me.

I exhaled, "This is a smoking room, right?"

"Yeah."

I took a long drag, and face him, holding the smoke. Ryan kept his eyes down. "Tell me?" I asked meekly.

Ryan nodded slowly, real slow, and then stood. He pulled off his jacket, tossed it onto the bed and then combed his hand through his hair. He faced me, "You ain't hungry?"

I knew he was going to prolong this. I just nodded, freeing the smoke, "Yeah, starved."

Ryan went to the phone and began to order room service. I took another drag and laid back on the bed, listening to him order.