There were plenty of other tables available, and yet Ryan Gardner had to sit here?
And for a moment there, I’d truly been curious if the self-absorbed jock who had made fun of me three years ago had somehow matured. Obviously not.
“Yet I still got here first. What a wonderful world we live in,” sang Ryan.
That was true. I looked back toward his leg and crutches. How had he gotten here before me?
“You’re welcome to sit down,” Ryan went on, gesturing to the other side of the wide, solid wood table.
Of course I was welcome to sit down. This wasmytable. Except for unknowing first-years, no one messed with the status quo of where people sat in the cafeteria or library. Not when you saw and knew that someone else had deemed it their spot.
“Is this what is happening here? You aren’t going to let up today until I sit with you?”
“Only mean girls don’t share the table, Luella,” he said with the cock of his head. “And I’m neither of those things.”
I begged to differ.
He wasn’t going to be causing another ruined part of my day, however. I rounded the other side of the table, closest to the window looking out onto the covered campus. In a single movement, I flopped down into the cushioned seat and let my heavy bag drop to the floor.
“Since you now see this area is taken, you can go,” I said kindly. “Thanks for saving it for me.”
It would’ve worked out all too well if that had persuaded Ryan at all. Clearly, the Barnett wonder boy was used to getting his way.
Ryan didn’t move. If anything, he looked more delighted about how this was all turning out for him.
Sighing, I slowly pulled out my laptop and notebook, setting myself up how I always did. I was not moving, whether he thought that was the case or not. My screen flickered to life, and my hands paused over my keyboard. When I looked over the edge of my laptop, he was still there, looking back and forth between his battered-looking copy ofPride and Prejudiceand me.
My willpower to ignore him was slipping.
“Fine. What’s your deal? Is this some sort of bet you are doing with someone? A game? Or …” I waited for him to fill in the blank, each word setting me more on edge.
Today really wasn’t the day.
“It’s not a bet. At first, I planned on just lying around in the cemetery for a while until one of my friends came to find me,” Ryan said casually.
“So, the wholepretending you’re deadthing happens often?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say I lie around in cemeteriesoften—cemetery, right?”
I nodded warily.
“But it does put things into perspective. It’s quiet too. My head gets all loud and starts to race around in there sometimes, and the quiet is nice.” He tapped the side of his head, as if a carnival ride were still going on in there. “You aren’t the first person I scared, I will admit. Once last year, during finals, I needed a break and went up there to lie down between Lillian Hardtman and the good ol’ Barnett brothers when it started to snow. A first-year stumbled across me and screamed. He was louder than you.”
“I didn’t scream.”
He lifted his fingers. “A little bit. Anyway, I’m pretty positive he thought I was a dead body. Public safety had to come up, and we were much less amused.”
“You seriously were just going to lie there for hours until a friend came and found you there and dragged you back to campus?”
“A friend did find me.” He grinned at me.
We were not friends.
“What a riveting story. How does this play into why you are bothering me?”
“Oh, right. Well, I was up there, trying to figure out some things. Then, it dawned on me—the answer to at least one of my problems,” he exclaimed.
“And that was?”
