The Problem with Forever (27 page)

He squeezed my shoulders. “Hey.”

My smile spread.

“Ready?” he murmured.

I was so ready.

Dropping his arm from my shoulders, he reached down and folded his hand around mine. It wasn’t the first time he’d held my hand, but there was an intimacy there that hadn’t been present before. A tight shiver curled its way down my spine as his thumb moved along my palm while we walked down to class.

He had
not
done that before.

Rider let go of my hand when we entered speech, and I stepped in front of him, walking toward my seat. I dropped my bag on the floor and started to sit when Rider swooped down, kissing my cheek once more.

I flushed as I glanced over at him.

He grinned as he sat. “Couldn’t help myself. Your cheek looked like it was missing my kiss.”

A wide smile raced across my face as I took my seat. I wanted to say thank you, but saying thank you seemed weird. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t grasp any of the words fluttering back and forth in my mind.

Rider’s grin grew until the dimple appeared.

And I realized my wordlessness was... It was okay. In this moment, it was all right. More than that.

The warning bell rang, dragging my gaze to the front of the room as Paige walked in. My smile slowly faded. Her long legs carried her to the back of the class.

“Hey,” she said to Rider.

Rider nodded in her direction. “Hey there.”

She didn’t say anything to me, which was kind of normal, and as class started, I wondered if she knew that Rider and I were together. My stomach shifted. Even though I was not a fan of Paige, I felt bad for...for her, because I believed she really did like him and that had to hurt. People broke up all the time, but that didn’t make it easy. I didn’t know what to do with those feelings.

Mr. Santos announced our next speech would be a persuasive one. I waited for someone to point out that I hadn’t given my speech yet. Either no one noticed that I hadn’t or they didn’t care. I hoped it would stay that way.

When class ended, I quickly gathered my stuff as Hector stood and faced us. He started to speak as Keira walked toward us, but Paige beat him to it. “Can we talk?”

I didn’t have to look to know the question was directed at Rider. Pressing my lips together, I focused on zipping up my bag while my heart thumped in my chest. Would Rider talk to her? Was that okay? Should it be okay?

“What’s up?” Rider replied after a moment, and I looked up. He was standing beside my desk.

Paige stepped closer as Hector turned away, but I caught sight of the wide-eyed look he shot in Keira’s direction. She halted, seeming to know not to come any farther. “I was thinking we could talk somewhere a little more private. What about later tonight?” Paige asked.

“I’ve got to work,” Rider replied, and I stood, swinging my bag over my shoulder.

Paige ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth. “What about after?”

Rider looked away, rubbing a hand across the center of his chest. “Paige...”

“What? You can’t talk to me now? I thought we were still friends?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Friends talk.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it. A moment passed. “We are friends, Paige. You know that.”

“Hey,” Hector spoke up, stepping toward her. “Walk with me?”

She snorted. “Uh. No.”

“I think you should,” Hector insisted. “Because you really don’t want to do this right now.”

“Do what?” she shot back. “I just want to talk to Rider.”

“It’s okay.” The two words spilled out of me, and all of them looked in my direction. I swallowed hard. “I mean, it’s...okay if you two need to talk. I’m going to head...out to the car.”

“Don’t.” Rider reached out, catching my hand. His fingers threaded through mine.

Paige’s gaze sharpened on me and then dropped to our joined hands. Her glossy pink lips parted as understanding flashed across her face. Her chin jerked up as her brows rose. “Seriously?” Her question was directed at Rider. “You...you did break up with me to get with her?”

Oh, God.

Keira pursed her lips and started backing up. Hector closed his eyes.

“I never said I wasn’t,” Rider said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. He squeezed my hand.

Paige unfolded her arms, and I tensed, because for a second I thought she might come across that desk and strangle one or both of us, but then her lips curled into a smirk and she barked out a harsh laugh. “Yeah. Whatever. Like I didn’t see this coming the moment she showed up.”

I wanted to hide, but that would make me a coward, the worst kind of coward, so I forced myself to stand there.

“I don’t know what to say,” Rider said, and his hand tightened around mine again. “I really don’t.”

“That’s okay, because I do.” Paige lifted her chin once more. “Don’t come crawling back to me when she lets you down. Because that will happen.”

My eyes narrowed and the words burst from me. “That’s not going to happen.”

Paige looked at me and laughed again. “Whatever. You and I both know how this is going to play out.” She wiggled her fingers as she pivoted. “Peace out.”

Standing there, I watched Paige stalk out of the class while Hector twisted toward us. “Shit,” he said. “That was awkward as hell to witness.”

“True dat,” Keira murmured.

“Try being in my shoes,” Rider said, sighing. He pulled me into his side. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I blinked. “Why...wouldn’t I be?”

Rider raised a shoulder in response. I started to ask if he was all right, but Paige’s words had left me cold in the chest, because she’d said them with such certainty.

Like she knew Rider and I wouldn’t last.

We wouldn’t be forever.

Chapter 26

“Hey,
bebé
.”

The words came from behind me as I rummaged through my locker Tuesday morning. Recognizing the voice, I looked over my shoulder.

Jayden stood there, his face bruised under his eye and swollen along his cheek. I shoved my history text into my bag, squeezing it in next to my binder. “How...are you feeling?”

“Like a million bucks.” He laughed at my doubtful expression. “Okay. I’m feelin’ like a quarter and maybe a nickel.”

My lips curved up as I closed the locker door.

“I wanted to say again that I’m sorry about Saturday.” Jayden’s bloodshot gaze moved away from me, to the scuffed floor. “I didn’t know you’d be with Rider.”

“It’s...all right.” I turned away from my locker. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans. “So, you and Rider are a thing now, huh?”

Biting down on my lower lip, I nodded. Rider had worked last night at the garage, finishing up the job on the car he’d shown me. “We’re...hanging out today after school.”

“That’s real good.” He smiled, lifting that swollen cheek, and it looked painful. “Rider is a good guy.”

We walked down the hall side by side. “He worries about you.”

“He always has.” He paused. “I...uh, I looked up to them, you know? Hector and Rider. They don’t think I care, but I do listen to them. And I am listening. Got new plans now.” When we reached the doors, he looked up. His gaze was distant. Off. “I got to head down the hall. Just wanted to swing by. See you later,
cariño
.”

Jayden was off, dodging taller kids before I had a chance to say another word. I stared after him for a moment and then slipped through the open door, hoping that Jayden wasn’t just listening to Hector and Rider, but that he was
hearing
them.

* * *

“Keys?” Rider asked as we walked to my car after school. Curious, I fished them out of my bag and handed them over.

I tossed my bag in the backseat, and Rider dropped his notebook next to it. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” He opened the driver’s door.

A giddy, probably dumb smile appeared as I walked to the other side. The whole relationship thing was brand-new and I didn’t really have any idea of what to expect, but I knew enough to know that surprises were good.

Once inside, Rider turned the key in the ignition and looked over at me. His hair brushed his brows as he grinned. “What time are you expected home tonight?”

“Eight,” I said since they both were at the hospital this evening.

“Perfect,” he said, backing out. He stroked his fingers along the steering wheel as we left the parking lot. “I’ve been saving up money for a car. I like this one. Probably out of my price range, though.”

Stretching out my legs, I looked over at him and for a moment I was struck silly by the fact that we were here and this was happening. Then I pulled it together. Barely. “What...are you looking at getting?”

One shoulder rose as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Not sure. I’m thinking about a truck. Not a big one, but Drew has been keeping an eye out for me, and the older ones definitely fall into my budget.”

I thought about that for a moment. “I like that.”

“What? Trucks?”

“Yes, but I like that you’re planning ahead,” I explained, watching him.

One brow rose and then he chuckled. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

I smiled softly. It was hard to explain, but Rider didn’t see much for himself. Literally had little to no expectations, but he was planning ahead. Buying a truck might not be a big deal, but it was something.

My gaze didn’t stray from him often as he drove and we talked. Well, Rider talked mostly, and I listened. It was weird. Things were the way they’d been last week, but different all the same. Whenever he glanced in my direction, the intensity to his gaze, no matter how brief, was infinitely more. It was heavy and warm.

“Keira invited me...to a party this Saturday,” I told him, remembering the conversation from yesterday. With everything that had happened in speech class with Paige, I’d temporarily forgotten.

“Peter’s?”

I nodded. “Yeah. You’ve gone?”

He shook his head. “You thinking about going?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. I’d brought it up to Ainsley last night via IM, and she’d thought going would be an amazing idea. Then invited herself along. “Would you...go?”

“If you wanted me to.” He flashed me a quick grin. “His parties are pretty big. A lot of people show up.”

My stomach dipped. “I think...it might be fun.”

“Probably will be.” There was a pause. “How are Carl and Rosa going to deal with that?”

I almost laughed at the idea. “I...don’t know. I don’t think they’d be totally against it. I mean, they want me...to be more social.”

“Uh-huh” was all he said, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. But then he started speaking again. “Speaking of social, have you thought about Homecoming?”

“I...” My tongue twisted into a pretzel. Several seconds passed before I could get it to catch up to my brain. “Not until I saw the banner last week. I don’t...know. Part of me wants to, but...”

But it was a lot and so much had changed. To some it was just a dance, but it was a dance with people crowded together and loud music. I frowned. A party would also probably be like that, but with slightly fewer people. My palms were suddenly damp and I wiped them across my thighs.

There was a part of me that was excited by the prospect of finding a pretty dress and seeing Rider dressed up, because that alone would be
wow
, but the school was new, the relationship was new and going to a party was one thing. A dance?

“I just...don’t know. I’ve never been to a dance. Some...homeschooling programs have dances, but I never went to them.”

He was patient while I forced the words out. “Then how about this? Why don’t we skip Homecoming and plan for prom?”

Prom?

Holy crap, that was like forever from now, and that meant Rider was planning for forever from now with me, no matter what doubts Paige had planted in my head. There was no stopping the smile.

“I...I can do that,” I said.

He reached over, found my hand and squeezed it. “Good.”

Smiling like a maniac, I glanced out the window and blinked. I recognized the street from this weekend, the narrow one with the garage, but when he drove past it, my heart started thumping in my chest. “Are you...taking me to your house?”

His sidelong look was sly. “Well, it’s not really a surprise anymore.”

The pounding in my chest moved to my throat.

“Though, it probably isn’t much of a surprise. I mean, it’s just my... It’s just a house. Nothing exciting,” he added, flipping his gaze ahead as he came to a stoplight. The car idled. “No one’s home. Hector’s working and Mrs. Luna won’t get in until around seven or so. I have no idea where Jayden is, but he’s probably out, doing something that’s going to make me want to punch him later.”

Anticipation swirled. I was going to get to see his house, maybe even his bedroom, and besides that being incredibly intimate to me, I was going to finally be able to confirm that he did have a nice home. Deep down, I knew things were good with Hector and Jayden’s grandmother, but knowing wasn’t the same thing as seeing that when he left school, when he wasn’t in front of me, he was somewhere safe.

These were the kinds of things a lot of people never had to worry about, but I did—
we did
—because we know that having walls and a roof over your head didn’t equal safety.

Sometimes it was the most dangerous place of them all.

Parking on the block he lived on was reserved for residents so he found a space pretty quickly, and didn’t even have to parallel park. When we climbed out into the cool afternoon air, I tugged the sleeves of my light sweater down. Soon, I’d have to break out a jacket.

Rider grabbed my book bag from the backseat, slinging it over his shoulder. “We’re down here.”

He reached down and wrapped his hand around mine, and my heart did a little dance. We walked down the street as the brisk wind played with my hair, tossing strands across my face. The street was nice, lined with bare trees. It didn’t smell bad, like it had outside the group home and Mr. Henry’s house. It was just normal. Not a mixture of urine and sewage and exhaust.

He led me up the cracked cement steps of an older, narrow brownstone. The red brick and green shutters were typical of the style, as was the stacked bay window. There was an autumn-themed wreath, burnt orange and red with little plastic pumpkins, on the door.

Hope swelled as he pulled out his keys. This was good, really good. Wreaths didn’t equate to safety, but all the windows were intact and someone, I was guessing Mrs. Luna, cared enough to decorate for the season.

Rider let go of my hand and opened the door, holding it for me so I could step through. Inhaling, I immediately caught the scent of apples and cinnamon. My gaze was darting everywhere as he closed the door behind us.

The brick row home was very much like Carl and Rosa’s, except older and smaller. Across from the front door were stairs that led to a second floor. The two bottom steps had an array of sneakers tucked against the wall. An old table was by the door, covered with unopened mail.

Rider stepped around me. “Want something to drink?”

I nodded and followed him through a rounded archway and into a living room. A coffee table was covered with magazines. A decent-sized TV sat on a stand, across from a comfy couch and recliner. Framed photos of Jayden and Hector covered every square inch of the wall behind the couch. There were several photos of an older man who reminded me so much of Hector. I guessed that was Mr. Luna.

The next room was a small dining area and then we walked into a surprisingly large kitchen that looked like it still had the same appliances it had when originally built. Cabinets were stained dark and the countertop a smooth tan surface.

“I think there’s some Coke in here. That cool?” Rider asked, glancing over his shoulder. “I think the milk might be expired.”

“Coke is fine.” I watched him open the fridge, and hand to God, I could’ve cried. The fridge was full of food—Tupperware with leftovers, eggs, cases of soda, packs of lunchmeat and even a vegetable or two.

Looks could be deceiving. I was smart enough to realize that. Sometimes, clean floors and a stocked fridge were nothing more than a facade.

But the hopefulness was growing.

Rider grabbed two sodas out of the fridge. “Is going upstairs to my bedroom okay?” His cheeks flushed pink. “If not, the attic has been converted into a chill spot.”

It was sweet that he asked and even sweeter that he blushed. I nodded, feeling my cheeks heat also. “Bedroom...is fine.”

His lips twitched as he handed me the Coke.

Upstairs was just as homey and warm as the downstairs. We walked past two closed doors and a bathroom. Rider’s room was next to the last, and when he opened the door, he flipped on the light.

Only a small window cast light in the room—a surprisingly neat room. Like crazy neat. My eyes were wide as I looked around. A narrow twin bed was made or never slept in. A clutter-free, small desk butted up to a dresser.

Walking around me, Rider placed his soda on the nightstand and my bag by the foot of the bed as I turned in a slow circle. Nothing was on the walls. No posters or pictures. In the corner of the room was a bookshelf. I roamed over to it, fingering the tab of my soda. I knelt down and started checking out the spines. There was a complete set of
Harry Potter
, all in hardcover, and a bunch of thrillers by authors I recognized.

“Yours?”

Rider sat on the bed. “Most of them. The
Harry Potter
books
were here when I came.” The half grin appeared. “But I read them.”

Smiling, I turned back to the books. There were a few Stephen Kings, ones I hadn’t read. Actually, I hadn’t read any of his books. I wasn’t a big horror fan. One of the titles, a thin book, snagged my attention. It was smaller, square-shaped. My hand jerked as recognition dawned.

Oh my God.

I pulled it out and stood, placing the Coke on the desk as I faced the bed.

He saw what I held and he started to smile, but it seemed to get stuck. His face blurred a little, and I blinked rapidly.

“Aw, shit,” he said gruffly, starting to stand. “You still cry when you see that book.”

I laughed, a wet and choked laugh. “No. Not really.” I stared down at the cover. It was an old copy. Oh, God, it looked like the exact one from before. The yellow cover was dulled, and the illustration of a small boy clutching a stuffed rabbit was faded. The book smelled like a book—that old, musty scent that clung to faded pages. “Is this...?”

He took a deep breath. “It is.”

Slowly, I lifted my gaze and our eyes met.

“It was your favorite book,” he said after a moment. “I have no idea why since it always made you cry.”

My lower lip started to tremble. “It was sad.”

“The rabbit becomes real in the end.” He laughed, but it was hoarse and thick. “I don’t know how many times I explained that to you.”

“But he was old and shabby and...” I swallowed the lump in my throat as I walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. I stared at the old cover. “All the rabbit wanted...was to be real and loved.” I said the last word as a whisper and then lifted my gaze to his again.

I’d empathized with that poor rabbit. I’d been too young to realize that, but I’d wanted to be loved and real, because I didn’t feel like either of those two things growing up in that house.

“I took it with me when I was removed from that house and I’ve... Yeah, I’ve kept it with me.”

My breath hitched. “That’s... I don’t know what to say.”

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said in a low voice. “Not one day, Mallory. That book... I don’t know, it was something that tied me to you.”

Oh my gosh. My chest squeezed, and a tremor coursed down my arm again. The book slipped from my fingers, landing on the carpet. He reached for it at the same time I did, and we both froze, bent at the waist, our faces inches apart. He got to the book before I did. We straightened, our gazes locked.