Lying Out Loud

“Serves you right,” I said as I reached for his iPod. “Let’s see. What else do we have on here? Hipster band, hipster band, hipster band … Oh, grunge. That’s a nice change.”

Next to me, Ryder seemed to deflate slightly. For a minute, I was confused; then I realized that, to him, I wasn’t the grunge girl. Amy was. That was her music, and she was the reason he’d given it a chance.

Part of me wanted to correct him on this. To tell some story about how I was the one who loved grunge and had pulled Amy into it. But really, Amy was the last thing I wanted to talk about right now.

So I cleared my throat and went back to skimming through the songs on his iPod. Eventually, I gave up on finding anything decent and selected “Of Lions and Robots,” the only GVM song I didn’t hate.

Ryder, having regained his composure, gently removed the iPod from my hand and tossed it into the front seat, out of reach.

“Make you a deal,” he said, kissing just beneath my ear. “I’ll add some better make-out music to my collection, if you drop it for the moment….” His lips traveled down my neck, sending chills up my spine.

“Fine,” I said, as if this was some great sacrifice on my part.

He eased me back down onto the carpeted seat, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He kissed his way up to my mouth, tugging slightly on my lower lip with his teeth. I giggled and arched my back, pressing myself tighter against him.

But then Ryder shifted slightly, and I was suddenly less focused on his mouth and more keenly aware of his hand, which had begun creeping beneath my shirt.

Despite the constant making out, we hadn’t quite reached second base yet. Not that I was at all opposed to it.

But the higher his hand crept, the more nervous I began to feel. What if he managed to get my bra off only to be disappointed? What if my boobs were too small or weird looking or something? Amy’s were much bigger than mine and probably perfect. Though, admittedly, I wasn’t really sure what made boobs perfect or weird. It didn’t stop me from worrying.

“Hey,” Ryder said, pulling away a little. “Is this all right?”

The minute his eyes met mine, I felt myself relax. His expression was so soft, so gentle, and it eased some of my worries.

Stop comparing yourself to Amy, I thought. He doesn’t want her, he wants you.

“Yeah,” I said. “Definitely.”

He smiled, then went back to kissing me.

And to trying to unhook my bra. Apparently, this is a very complicated act for boys, particularly to do one-handed, because it seemed to be taking him longer than I’d expected. But he’d almost managed it when —

Crunch!

The snowball smacked into the windshield, followed by a burst of retreating laughter from outside the car.

Ryder and I both groaned.

“Assholes,” I said.

“Why are we here again?” he asked.

“Lyndway Hill is the cool place to make out. At least, so I’ve been told.”

“Right, well, I would argue that my house is cooler.” He eased off me, allowing me to sit up. He smirked at me as I attempted to smooth down my hair. “Might I suggest that we continue this there?”

I just gri

Unfortunately, Ryder’s house was not as empty as we’d thought.

We burst through the door, laughing at the fresh snow that had fallen on us as we’d run up the front steps. He flicked snow from my hair, and I laughed, pushing him away. He caught my arms and moved me backward, so I was pressed against the front door as he leaned in to kiss me.

But our lips had barely met when we heard the loud “Ahem” and jumped apart.

“Mom,” Ryder said, spi

“And I thought you were,” she said, her voice devoid of any humor. “Your car is in the garage.”

“Right. I was with So

I raised a hand and gave a small wave. “Hi, Mrs. Cross.” Yeah. This was not how I’d pla

“It’s Ms. Ta

“Right. Sorry.”

I’m not going to lie. I was already pretty scared of Ryder’s mother. She was so strict about how clean her house and even Ryder’s car were kept. And Ryder, despite seeming to think she was perfect, had described her as pretty strict and cold, things that had only gotten worse since the separation. Not traits that particularly meshed with my personality.

As if that wasn’t enough, in person, she was entirely intimidating. I’d known she was pretty from the photo I’d seen of Ryder and his family, with her smooth dark brown skin and dark eyes. But she was also quite tall. And had broad shoulders. And then there was the way she was dressed, in a crisp, neat, expensive navy-blue suit.

“Is that your car outside?” she asked, glancing out the window.

“Uh, yes, ma’am. It is.” And then I tried, perhaps foolishly, to make her laugh. “I named her Gert.”

But she didn’t laugh. “Hmm. Charming. I’m sure the neighbors will be very curious about what a car like that is doing in the driveway.”

Ouch.

I wanted to say something, to defend Gert, as silly as it sounds, but luckily Ryder spoke up first.

“It’s vintage,” he said, laughing. And the fact that he was obviously quoting me made me soften a bit.

“Indeed,” Ms. Ta

“Oh. So

“So

“Not anymore,” Ryder said. “So

“Wow,” Ms. Ta

Ryder flinched.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I brought some work home with me that needs to get done. Nice to meet you, So

The feeling was not mutual.

When she’d left the room, I turned to Ryder. “That was … interesting.”

He was staring at his feet, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. Clearly, the interaction had been just as unpleasant for him. But I knew not to say anything else.

“Should I go?” I asked.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

But something told me that there would be no getting to second base today after all.

“It’s okay. I probably should. I have a lot of homework.”

Ryder was quiet as he walked me out. When we reached my car, I turned to him. “Hey,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Is everything okay?” I worried that maybe his mother’s obvious disapproval of me and my poor-person vehicle might be enough to scare him off.

“Yeah,” he said. “Everything’s fine.”

And even though there was no hesitation when he leaned in to kiss me good-bye, I knew something had changed. Something his mother had said was bothering Ryder, even if he wasn’t telling me what just yet.

Chapter 25

“What are you thinking about?” I asked Ryder.

It was another day when his mother wouldn’t be home until the evening (we’d checked this time), which meant we were at his house, in his room, on his bed. Only Ryder didn’t seem entirely there. Like he was preoccupied with something besides feeling me up.

“Amy,” he said.

I frowned down at him. “Okay. Not the answer I was hoping for.”

He shook his head. “Not like that,” he said. “Obviously. I just feel like I should apologize to her.”

“For …?”

“This.” He gestured between us. “I’m not exactly her biggest fan anymore, but we did have something going on between us for a while. It must be weird that I’m now dating her best friend.”

“It’s not,” I assured him. “She’s totally fine with it.”