Miles to Go

Chapter 12: Him

I wasn’t necessarily proud, but I did have somewhat of an ego. And because of that, I hated being considered a coward by anyone at all.

It was because of that I insisted on sitting by the corner of the fence that was closer to Rylie’s house rather than the Wilson’s tonight.

She sat on her side of the imaginary line, against the corner of the fence closer to my house, leaving a foot of space between us.

“Why don’t you go inside and sleep?” I asked when she yawned for the fourth time in the hour.

“Don’t feel like it.”

I shrugged. “Okay.”

“I’m just bored.”

“So why don’t you do something you find interesting?”

“This is interesting. It’s relaxing.”

I smiled. “I know what you mean. When did you last sleep?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. You?”

“Last night.”

“Is that why you weren’t here?”

“Yeah,” I said surprised she’d noticed my absence and was actually asking about it.

She sighed quietly, the weary kind of sigh, and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and dropping her forehead on her knees.

She was asleep five minutes later.

***

“Rylie?” I asked softly, leaning towards her as the sun continued inching higher in the sky. Cursing my luck—or lack thereof—I moved closer to her, lightly touching her shoulder and found that I wasn’t surprised her bare skin was chilled to the touch.

She jolted awake, looking at me with frenzied eyes.

I looked down at my hand which now hung in the air between us, since she’d immediately moved away from me when I’d touched her.

“You usually go inside now,” I said awkwardly, dropping my hand to my side.

She looked to the horizon, blinking in confusion. And then she nodded, clumsily getting to her feet. It was a rather amusing thing to watch, this mess of bones working ineptly. “Thanks.”

I nodded, moving back slightly and watching as she grabbed her flip flops in her hand and climbed over her fence, making her way inside barefoot.

Soon after, still in disbelief over the fact that I’d tasted something other than cold from her, I went inside, knowing I’d be late if I didn’t.

After taking a quick shower, I got dressed, leaving my wet curls to dry however and, realizing I was running late, grabbed an apple on my way out the front door.

“Damn it, Rylie! We’re going to be late! Hurry up,” her brother, Seth, called loudly from just outside the door, agitated. “Rylie!”

“I’m coming.”

“Well hurry up or I’m leaving without you.”

“So leave,” she said, indifferent as hell.

He groaned, clearly exasperated. “Fine. God, do you have to be so difficult?” Not waiting for a response, he slammed the front door shut, going down the two front steps to his car. Suddenly he looked over, clearly caught by surprised. “Oh. Uh, hey. W—we’re not usually like that,” he said, suddenly filled with self-disgust.

I wondered at the reason behind it, careful to keep my face clear of suspicion as I nodded. “We all have our moments.”

He half smiled. “Agreed. I’ll, uhm, see you at school?”

I nodded. “Sure. Later.”

He nodded, waving as he got into his car. Just as he reversed out of the driveway, Rylie stepped outside. She stared at the car driving away with a strange sort of fascination, crossing her arms.

I sighed, annoyed at myself for even considering the idea. But… what else was I going to do? And what could possibly happen anyway? I’d spent the entire night beside her already—I was almost used to the cold and emptiness at this point, not to mention the curiosity she seemingly ever only felt around me.

“Get in,” I called, deciding I’d leave the windows open, worst case scenario.

She looked over, eyebrow raised. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re deserted. Get in.”

She rolled her eyes, hesitating.

“I’m offering the last time. Get in or I’m leaving too.”

She sighed, as if doing me a huge favor, and finally crossed the space between our houses, getting into the car and dropping her shoulder bag by her feet on the floor and kicking it into the farthest corner.

I shook my head at her odd behavior and climbed into the car as well, hitting the buttons for the windows even before I’d seated myself.

We drove in mostly silence, taking turns starting conversations that didn’t last more than a minute, two if we were lucky.

“Is everything okay with your brother?” I asked finally, when we were a couple of minutes away from the school.

She nodded. “Yeah. He’s just kind of a spaz, sometimes.”

“Oh.” I pulled into the school’s parking lot, parking in the first spot I found.

She grabbed her bag and got out of the car, muttering a thank you before quickly walking away, not looking at anything but the ground.

Shrugging it off on her abnormalities, I locked the car, shifting my book bag on my shoulders and went inside, mumbling hello to the people I knew with my mind still on the events of the morning.

When I made it to first period, I was surprised to find Charlotte already seated at her desk, bouncing with anticipation. She was ecstatic for whatever reason, the happiest I’d felt from her in a while.

“Hey,” I said, her excitement leaking into me. There was a buzzing in my body, just dying to be released. “What’s up?”

“Everything. Guess what!” she said, grinning widely.

“What?”

“Seth took me out on a date last night,” she blurted out, her grin broadening.

“Really?” I asked honestly surprised.

“Yeah.” She nodded feverishly as if to back up her words. “He’s not my boyfriend or anything yet, but… still!”

I smiled. “That’s great. Really, Charlotte.”

“Thank you! You’re like the only person who hasn’t looked at me with those stupid judgmental eyes.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because we’ve kissed and he isn’t my boyfriend. I mean, in the real world that isn’t high school, people date more casually than I am. So big deal. You know? It’s not like I’m a huge slut now or anything.”

I frowned, feeling the dormant displeasure now. “You’re not any kind of slut, Charlotte,” I said, partially because she was my friend and mostly because it was true. “They’re just morons.”

“I know that,” she said simply, shrugging it away, “but I just wish people would grow up sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” I soothed and jokingly said, “I wish it all the time, which is a lot worse.”

She laughed, her distress fading away behind her happiness again. “Yeah, I guess it is. Thank you, Desmond. Seriously.”

I smiled, nodding. “It’s the least I can do. You did invite me to your party.”

She rolled her eyes. “That is the first and last time I’m going out of my way for some guy. I’m not even kidding.”

“I hope not,” I said looking at her seriously. “I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“So it’s settled,” she said, finality ringing in her voice. “No more stupidity over boys.”

Or girls, I thought, thinking of a particular empty eyed neighbor.

***

“So… can I hitch another ride?”

I looked up, not expecting to see her. “What?”

“A ride. Can I get one? To my house?”

I scoffed at her sarcasm, blinking against her hair. It was even redder now, in the direct sunlight. “Really, Rylie? And here I thought you lived on the side of the road.” I paused, watching a cynical smile spread across her lips. “Another falling-out with your brother?”

“No, he has soccer practice and my—no one can pick me up.”

I unlocked the doors and gestured for her to get in as I asked about her lack of a car.

She shrugged. “I just don’t have one.”

I nodded, pressing on the window buttons. “They don’t trust you or something?’

“Something like that.”

I nodded, and we lapsed into silence again. Because I didn’t understand her, I abruptly said, “You’re not very easy to converse with, you know.”

“I know.”

“Do you like music?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

I hit the radio button, nudging up the volume as a familiar song drifted from the speakers. “Any favorites?”

“Not really. I like a little of a lot.”

“Big into music?”

“I guess.”

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. “You look like a music person.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You look like you’d be right at home at a concert. Or after, hanging around and waiting for the band.”

She smiled, actually amused for the first time… well, ever. “Alright, if you say so.”

“What? You don’t agree?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you ever been to a concert?”

“A couple of times. You?”

“No, never. How many times is a couple, exactly?”

“I don’t know. Like… five? Seven?”

“More?” I added, grinning. “That’s not really a couple.”

“Close enough.”

“So you do like music. Why don’t you just say that?”

“Too much effort.”

“That’s bull,” I said easily, surprised at the smooth flow of conversation. This was the last person I expected it from. And, predictable as she was, she had the ability to surprise, undeveloped as it was.

She laughed, but the sound was off. It was half entertained, half bitter, with an overtone of unconcern. “If I were shitting you, you’d never know.”

I had to smile. “I’d know. Trust me—I’d know.”

She looked at me finally, scrutinizing me with observant eyes. “I believe that.”

“You’re surprised.”

“I am, to be honest.”

“Well, at least you’re being honest.”

“At least,” she agreed, looking out the window again. “So, I was…”

“Yeah?” I asked, glancing at her again to show my interest.

“Do you have them often? Your family parties?”

I nodded, somewhat intrigued she was bringing this up. “Like every week.”

“Oh.”

I risked looking away from the road, staring at her instead. “That was a pretty loaded oh.”

She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Do you ever have any family parties?” I asked instead of pushing it since I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere.

“We don’t have any family here.”

“Where are they, your family?”

She shrugged. “Everywhere. Just not here.”

“Oh. Do you have a big family?”

“It’s really just the four of us. You know, considering.”

I nodded, trying to understand.

“You have no idea what I’m saying, do you?”

I had to smile. “Not really. I’m trying to understand.”

“Don’t,” she said simply, like it was nothing. “It’s too complicated, even for me.”

“You’re good with complicated?” I asked, picking up on what her words implied.

“Not necessarily.”

“Usually?”

“Depends.”

“That really doesn’t tell me anything,” I said laughing.

“I know.”

“Was that the idea?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

I grinned at her, shaking my head, and silently continued driving.

***

“Desmond!”

I turned, smiling despite my surprise as I picked up the little girl. “Bella. What’re you doing here? It’s a school night.”

“Zia Lisa invited us over. Mamma can’t come.”

I nodded. “Where’s your Papà?”

“He’s parking the car. I stole the key to your house,” she whispered into my ear, even though we were the only ones in the house, as she grinned cheekily.

I laughed, putting her back on the ground. “I’m not complaining. You guys are a little early, though.”

“We were earlier, but—” she broke off, covering her mouth with hand, giving herself away.

“But what, Bella?”

“I’m not supposed to tell.”

“It’s only me, Bel. You know you can tell me anything,” I coaxed, feeling slightly guilty. But in my defense, it was true. She could come to me with anything and she knew it.

“Don’t tell Papà, bene?”

“Bene.”

“We actually got here earlier, when you were pulling into the driveway. But we saw you and that pretty girl get out, so we drove away. I told Papà you wouldn’t mind, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“That sounds like zio,” I muttered thoughtfully. “Watch some TV, Tesoro. I’ll be right back.”

I got to Ryan just as he stepped to the door, freezing when I came outside. “Figlio—”

“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s all wrong. Rylie’s brother—”

“Rylie?” he asked, honestly confused.

“My neighbor. Her brother is part of the soccer team and she needed a ride, that’s all.”

Ryan held up his hands, palms facing me. “I’m not saying or asking anything. Bella told you, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, but I tricked it out of her,” I exaggerated slightly, not wanting to put her on the spot.

But Ryan only shrugged, grinning. “I should’ve figured. Does she keep anything a secret from you?”

“Not a thing.”

“Keep it that way. I’m already worried about the boys.”

***

When Rylie came out, a bit later that night than usual, she came and sat beside me. I felt her cold knee through my jeans and shivered, wondering how she could always be so cold.

“Hey,” she said, crossing her arms and not looking at me. For the first time, I noticed a glimpse of a bracelet shine in the dark as the light hit it. And then it was hidden in the shadows again. “Did you know about Seth and Charlotte?”

“What about them? That they’re going out?”

She nodded once.

“Yeah, she told me earlier today. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“He did.”

“Today?”

“Tonight.”

I nodded. “That’s not too bad. They only just went on their first date.”

“Yeah, I know.”

It was difficult to tell what she truly felt at the moment, seeing as how the normal cold that usually surrounded her seemed to drop another couple of degrees tonight. Bracing myself, I said, “What’s wrong?”

She looked at me strangely. “Nothing. What makes you think that?”

“Just a feeling. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine. You get that a lot? A feeling that people are upset?”

“Not necessarily,” I quoted, making her smirk.

“Usually?”

“Depends.”

“That really doesn’t tell me anything.”

“I know.” I relaxed beside her, looking at the sky. It was completely dark, a little cloudy. There weren’t any visible stars in sight. “So does that mean that you are upset?”

“No.”

I shrugged, and let it go. “Okay.”

“Is that a rule?”

I glanced at her and found her staring at me curiously. She’d dropped her hands in her lap, exposing her bracelet. It was made of thin, delicate rectangle links with an X every six links and an O in between. On the ends were two hearts. “Is what a rule?”

“Asking someone several times to make sure they’re okay and then giving up? Does asking once mean you don’t really care?”

“Where is this even coming from?”

She shrugged. “Just something I’ve noticed. So?”

“I told you I’d know if you were shitting me. I wasn’t lying, Rylie.”

She glanced down for a second. “Are you going to answer?”

“I don’t know the answer. I think… I think it just happens. We ask twice because we’re just used to it, and when you ask only once, and who you’re asking wants you to ask twice, they think you don’t care. I’ve always thought people ask more times if the person they’re asking means a lot to them.”

“You think?”

“I guess. I think it also depends on the person you’re asking. Some people just need to be asked a lot, you know?”

“Yeah,” she said distractedly, lost in thought, “I think so. Any theories on why that is?”

I shrugged. “It could be anything, really. Maybe the person just needs it persuaded out of them, or they’re just really private, or they just like the attention.”

She turned to look at me, not saying anything until I met her gaze.

“What?”

“You’re really observant. And clever.”

I looked away. “Not really.”

“And modest.” Her curiosity spiked with her words, but that was all I could sense from her.

“Not really.”

“You may not think so.”

“You really like being right, don’t you?” I asked, changing the subject with surprise. To be honest, I hadn’t pegged her as one of those people. Maybe somewhere, buried deep under her cold exterior, there was a strong personality there instead of the passive one she played.

“Not unless I’m actually right.”

“And how many times are you actually right?”

“Occasionally.”

“Do you ever actually answer a question about yourself?”

“If the question’s good.”

“And what does a good question consist of?”

“You tell me.”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Of course I do. But there are a lot of possibilities.”

“Give me an example.”

She looked to the ocean, not dignifying my statement with a response. “There are no waves tonight.”

“Yeah.”

She sighed, the quiet relaxed kind of sigh and leaned against my fence. Together, we silently stared out at the water, content.

And for the first time, I wasn’t uneasy around her.
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I'm exhausted, so I apologize if I missed any typos. Which I honestly might've. Comments would be the loveliest.