SWAY (Part 1) (5 page)

We got Justin’s tux and shoes put on hold and ordered Eve’s corsage, then went back to his house for dinner so it was late and I was tired when I got home.

I finished my nightly hygiene routine, laid down, and tried to sleep, but I kept thinking about Ryan. It was so frustrating that he was always interrupting my thoughts. No matter what I was doing, he seemed to pop up in the middle of it. I could barely go five seconds without thinking of him anymore.

I laid there going back and forth in my head about whet
her or not I should allow my fear and uncertainties to rule my choices—as far as Ryan was concerned anyway. I began to drift from that, wondering if Ryan would ask me out again, or if he considered my first no to be final. As my eyelids, too weak to fight to remain open covered my tired eyes, I figured it wouldn’t matter anyway.

9

Lindsay and I were lying on her bed looking at magazines, listening to a CD of hers. It was in German so I couldn’t understand a word of it, but was eventually able to tune it out because Ryan edged his way into my thoughts again, which was honestly beginning to make me a little nuts.

I couldn’t talk to Justin about him and I couldn’t talk to Pam b
ecause she would tell Justin. The woman could not keep a secret to save her life. I knew Lindsay would eat up anything I said about Ryan, so I just blurted it out. “Ryan Mullins asked me out.”

Lindsay’s head snapped up from her French Vogue mag
azine. “
What
? When did this happen?” she asked, wide eyed.

“A few days ago.”

“Shit,” she gasped. “You turned him down, didn’t you?
You did! You turned him down. Why did you turn
him
down?” She moaned, dropped her magazine and rolled onto her back with her arms spread open as if requesting assistance from God.

“I don’t know.” I waved my hands around, flustered. I knew she wouldn’t view the situation as I did, so there was no use trying to e
xplain it to her.

“Is there anything else you’re not telling me?” she asked morbi
dly.

“He gave me his number back in January.”

“And you didn’t call him,” she stated coarsely. She knew I hadn’t.

“No. I didn’t call him,” I rattled. “He gives his number to ever
ybody.”

“Uh—no.
He doesn’t. I don’t have it,” she yelped. He was probably afraid of her is why. She didn’t exactly appear open at first glance.

“This is good, though.” Lindsay sat up, excited. “Now you can call and tell him that you were temporarily out of your mind when he asked you out, and that you meant to say yes, but su
ffered a massive brain fart, which caused you to disfigure the word.”

“No,” I laughed.
Like I would use the word fart in front of Ryan Mullins at all.

“Why not?” she shrieked.

“Because my
no
was very clear.”

“Annie! He’s the hottest guy in school and he wants you to
ring his bell, so why not do it?” She looked at me as if I was an idiot. For a split second, I wondered if I was an idiot.

“You should go for it. I mean, seriously,”
Lindsay growled, the look in her eyes leading.

“But Justin says—” “
But Justin says
,” she mimicked in a childish tone. “It doesn’t matter what
he
says. If you want to go out with Ryan, then do it. Besides, Justin’s been MIA since he took up with the virgin,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. “I have no idea what
they
do for fun, with her having to remain intact for her wedding night and all.”

“Ew,” I grumbled. That was the last thing I wanted to discuss. I wondered sometimes if Lindsay hated Justin so
much because she secretly liked him and he didn’t like her back or something, but I didn’t want to go there either, so I skipped back to me and my problem.

“The only reason I mentioned Justin is because he told me some things about Ryan’s dating habits, and I talked to Amber. They used to go out and…the rumors…” I trailed off because Lindsay was looking at me as if she didn’t want to hear anymore, so I tried a different a
pproach. “Okay, all that aside, Ryan Mullins is out of my league. He can have any girl he wants, which makes me wonder why he would want me.”

“Are you kidding me, Annie?” she griped. “Why wouldn’t he want you? You’re smart and sometimes you can be funny—” I rolled my eyes at that one. Hey, pick
me because
sometimes
I can be funny
.
“You’ve got plenty going for you in the boob department—” I held my hand up. I’d had about enough of Lindsay’s compliments, but at least she’d said I was smart. To be dumb with plenty in the boob department wouldn’t have been good.

“That’s enough, thank you,” I said, but she didn’t listen.

“Ryan’s obviously into you or he wouldn’t have asked you out. He’s dated other girls. So what? He’s eighteen. How many girls has Justin dated?” I never should have brought him up. “You are not out of Ryan’s league, if anything he’s out of yours. If you like him, or even if you think you’ll like him, you should do it,” Lindsay said, certainty in her voice and an increasingly immoral smile forming on her mouth. “And then you should tell me every juicy detail.”

I should have seen that coming. I shook my head. “You know I’m not going there.” She knew better. “I still don’t know what you’re wai
ting for,” Lindsay marveled. She didn’t appreciate that I didn’t share her belief that I should get losing it out of the way because the first time sucks, according to her, a subject she’d lectured me on more than once.

“I don’t care what you say; you have to have wondered what it would be like to be naked and sweaty with Ryan Mullins.”

“Lindsay!” I hissed, appalled.

“I do it all the time,” she announced shamelessly. Her eyes wi
dened, excited. “I saw him once without his shirt and trembled for an entire week,” she moaned, making me laugh. 

“He is pretty beautiful, isn’t he?” I smiled at the thought of
him.

“He’s so hot I think my skin would melt right off my bones if I actually got close enough to touch him.” Lindsay got glazy eyed, zoning out on me. She was probably imagining herself mel
ting all over Ryan, which I didn’t like. At all.

“Hey.” I snapped my fingers, bringing her to. Without missing a beat, she pointed at me. “Forget everyone else—you should be the one to decide if Ryan’s a creep or not. Don’t let a
nother person’s opinion keep you from getting to know him. Not even Justin’s.” Her lip curled up. “Especially not Justin’s. Also,  it seems you and David are headed nowhere fast, so why not take a chance on Ryan?”

Lindsay had a point, but I was still afraid. I didn’t want to get my heart smushed. I enjoyed flirting with Ryan, stealing glances, and feeling the butterflies that invaded me whenever I saw him.

“I’ll think about it,” I told her.

“Don’t think too long,” Lindsay warned. “He may meet another girl who won’t hesitate to jump on that.”

“How eloquently put,” I snickered. Lindsay wrinkled her mouth and shrugged her shoulders. “That’s how I roll. You know that.”

***

The next day, before my final class, I spotted Ryan leaned against my locker, holding the palm of some unfortunate girl in his hand. I shook my head as I neared them. Ryan had a gleaming smile on his lips, no doubt anticipating what I would do. He’d obviously meant for me to see him, probably since I had specifically mentioned freshmen with his phone number on their palms when he called me.

Ryan shooed the girl away before I made it to him. He snapped the cap back on his theoretical secret weapon and smiled brilliantly at me. I couldn’t help but enjoy it. He was ridiculously hot when he smiled. I felt the corners of my mouth curling up, but forced them back in place.

“Hey Annie,” Ryan said, too cheerfully, proud of himself and his little display.

“How many of those things do you go through in a week?” I asked. Ryan smiled, almost laughing, and then looked narrowly at me. “Are you worried about the competition?” he asked, moving closer, his voice almost a whi
sper. “Because you don’t seem the type.”

I took half a second to enjoy how good he smelled, and then looked him in the eye, smirking, which was hard. It seemed that looking in Ryan’s eyes was what had sucked away all of my power the times b
efore.

“It’s not exactly a competition until I decide to play, now is it?” Ryan raised an eyebrow, amused. “I guess you’re right, it’s not.” He nodded and stuck his tongue in his cheek. He was co
ntemplating something, but I didn’t give him a chance to reveal whatever he was thinking.

“Bye Ryan,” I chanted, too cheerfully, and left him. I was
proud of myself for keeping my composure. That was twice now. I smiled, thrilled by the thought.

Ryan began showing up between my classes again and this time I didn’t ignore him. Instead, I made it easier for him to get my attention. I caught myself searching the hallways for him, expec
ting him. I hoped I would bump into him just to get to watch him stare at me. He looked at me in a way that made my insides flutter.

Ryan Mullins was completely consuming me. I was daydrea
ming about him, doodling his name on the inside cover of my notebook. He was in my head so much that I was starting to feel that he was a virus with no cure. I couldn’t help it, or stop it. I wanted to be near Ryan, to talk to him, to see that breathtaking smile on his face. To know it was there for me. Because of me. The thought gave me goose bumps.

I didn’t know what was going to happen and the anticip
ation was wreaking havoc on my nervous system. The only thing I knew for sure was that there was no way I could call him. I couldn’t break that rule—not even for him. It did make me wonder though if Ryan was going to be just as stubborn about calling me as I’d been about calling him. Especially since he’d done it once and I’d shot him down for his trouble. With all of the thoughts churning in my head, it finally hit me. There was
something
I could do to provoke Ryan to make a move. 

The next morning I stood in the center of the senior hallway b
efore classes started. I was a few feet from Ryan’s locker. I wanted to see his reaction firsthand. I had a hard time keeping from laughing when I thought about it. I waited patiently for Ryan to appear and it was completely worth the effort.

He laughed. I liked that he had a good sense of h
umor. 

I stayed put until he spotted me in the dwindling crowd. Ryan nodded with an appreciative smile on his face, holding up the twelve-pack of Sharpies I had duct taped to his locker.

I was particularly proud of my prank and that Ryan seemed to have enjoyed it. He left a note in my locker, stuck there with the same piece of tape I’d used for his gift. It read,
So, does this mean you’re playing? 

***

I was almost expecting it, and definitely hoping for it. When Ryan called, my insides jumped up and down.

“That was pretty good today,” he said as soon as he heard my voice.

“Thank you.”

“Did you get rid of your boyfriend yet?”

“That didn’t take long,” I marveled.

“Well…”

“No, but you shouldn’t be too worried. You have a fresh supply of ink now. It should last you at least three days.”

Ryan ignored my joke and skipped back to David. “When are you going to get rid of him, Annie?”

“Why are you so anxious for me to get rid of my boyfriend?”

“I think you know,” he moaned.

“Tell me anyway,” I asked delicately. I was dying to hear him say it.

Ryan released a long, almost discouraged breath. “You know what I want, Annie. What I don’t know is what you want and it’s star
ting to get to me that I can’t figure it out.” He sounded as if his jaw was clenched. I smiled, loving the way my name sounded when Ryan said it that way, with a sort of desperation in his voice.

“What do you want?” Ryan asked.

“You know what I want.” And he did. He’d nailed it the first time he called me. I did like him, and I wasn’t just afraid to do something about it, I was terrified.

“So, you do like me,” Ryan stated, almost smugly. 

“I didn’t say that,” I defended.

“You did say that,” Ryan gloated. I stood silent, my mouth smashed shut.

“Let me ask you this, what if you didn’t have a boyfriend, Annie? Would you go out with me then?” I considered answering in truth. I wanted to go out with him—even with a boyfriend.

“Be honest,” Ryan encouraged. “Let me take you out Sa
turday night.” I was so tempted to close my eyes and jump, but I knew getting involved with Ryan could end disastrously for me. I considered what Lindsay said about deciding for myself, and I wanted to say yes, but the fear of getting burned took over and kept me from it.

“But I do have a
boyfriend,” I whined.

Ryan exhaled coarsely, then paused so long that I wo
ndered if he was still there. “Okay, Annie. I’ll let you go,” he said, his voice dim, and then there was silence. I held the phone until the line went dead. Until I was sure Ryan was gone.

Instantly, I regretted my answer, my hesitation. I knew that wasn’t what I truly wanted—for him to let me go. I wanted him to convince me to say yes, to make me feel comfortable taking a chance with him. My heart sank; drenched in disappointment. I imagined I’d pushed too hard, once again, in the wrong direction. That was twice now. Ryan would never ask again. I was sure of it.