I let the water run down my back with the slightest smell of chlorine, standing under the shower bare and eyes shut with one image left flirting through my mind.
Ryan Gardner was going to accompany me to the fall equinox tomorrow night.
* * *
If Ryan Gardnerhad cold feet about going to Gertie’s for Mabon and was hiding from me, he’d better be prepared. In another minute, I was prepared to make my way inside the never-before-entered sports house and rip him out from under whatever bed or closet he was hiding inside of because I was not going to be stood up. Though, of course, this evening wasn’t a date.
Standing up someone didn’t only have to deal with dates, right?
I hadn’t wanted him to come along to Mabon to begin with, and now, I was pacing back and forth over the uneven, cracked sidewalk in front of an equally dilapidated house on the Row, like a gentleman, waiting for him to sneak out of the house.
Me. I was the gentleman.
Soon, I was going to be a mad-ass bitch.
“Lu!”
My feet twisted around before the rest of me. I let out a rush of air. “You are so lucky you showed up before I knocked on that door.”
Ryan shut the door of a blue car before he carefully made his way up the path toward the front door. He walked without crutches or his brace.
My eyes widened as he extended his arms on either side, as if he were walking a tightrope or a very narrow runway.
“I know, right? Freedom.”
“You’re crutch-free.”
“Somehow, it feels better every time. I’m sorry. There was traffic, and my doctor’s appointment ran late,” explained Ryan. “I just need to change my shirt quickly, and then we can go. Are we late?”
We were going to be.
“Not yet.”
“Good. I can work with not yet.” Pulling open the unlocked front door, Ryan waved me in after him, immediately trailing up the stairs. Slowly yet with a smile with each step he didn’t fall over on.
Glancing around the space, I wasn’t surprised to see the house in disarray with sports bags swung over the railing and random pillows lumped over equally lumpy couches—which had likely been dragged inside from the stoop by whoever lived here in the last few years—in the living room. Still, it didn’t smell like BO, so that was something. As was the silence. No one appeared to be inside other than us.
“Sweet, sweet freedom,” Ryan exhaled at the top of the staircase.
“Can you hurry up? Please?”
“And hurt my sweet, recently healed tendons?” Ryan pushed open the door to his room, also as unlocked as the front door. This one, however, was also hanging open by old, unscrewed hinges.
Any updates the school had made to the theme housing must’ve been only on an external level. Otherwise, the walls didn’t look like they had been painted since the late ’70s. The floors were nicked and watermarked, much like the ceiling.
A speedy scuttle came from the space next to me.
I took a hasty step back from where I stood. The floor creaked, but still, that was much less concerning as I pointed a finger toward the spotty walls. “What the hell was that?”
“What?”
The scuttling in the walls echoed through the room again in Ryan’s momentary silence.
“Oh.” He dipped his chin in understanding. He waved toward the haunted wall. “Don’t mind that. That’s probably just Potato.”
“Potato?”
“You know, these old buildings. Potato is our mouse,” Ryan said.
