Because what am I even supposed to do now? Do we just keep pretending? No. Do we pretend it never happened? That feels impossible.
At least I don’t have to figure it out today. I can just go home, sleep, and think about it when I see him.
The café stayed open late again today, and by the time we finally closed, it was already past eight-thirty. Everyone else headed out not long after, but I stayed behind, picking up a few extra things.
But now I’m done so I grab my phone and text Noah.
ME: walking home in fifteen.
Fifteen minutes later, I grab my jacket and head for the door. The final light clicks off behind me as I pull the door shut, the lock snapping loudly in the still street.
I tug my jacket tighter around myself as I step off the curb, and then I see a car parked under the streetlight. The engine is off, the driver’s door is open, and a tall, broad figure leaning against it.
I squint my eyes and as I come closer, I see it’s Ryan.
Fuck. Why is he here? Does he want to talk about the kiss? What do I even say if he does? Pretend it didn’t happen? Laugh? Fake amnesia? Move countries?!
He straightens when he sees me, pushing off the car. His hands slide into the pockets of his jeans. And I notice that his shoulders are a little tense.
I force my legs to work and walk over to him, until I’m a few steps apart. An awkward silence stretches between us. So I guess he noticed how I was being weird when I rushed off yesterday.
I clear my throat. “Uh… what are you doing here?”
“Noah asked me to pick you up,” he answers.
“Why?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s late and dark. And he couldn’t come, so he called me.”
Fantastic. Thanks, Noah.
“I mean,” I say quickly, “it’s fine, really. I can walk.”
He shakes his head once. “It wasn’t an option.”
“Ryan, seriously—”
“Noah will literally put an end to me,” he cuts in, completely deadpan. “And I don’t have a death wish. So please. Just get in the car.”
I look around, hesitating for a moment. But I don’t really have a choice, do I?
“Fine,” I mutter.
He opens the passenger door and steps back, giving me space. I slip past him and slide into the seat without looking at him. The door shuts softly behind me and I hear him exhale as he walks to his side.
The drive is quiet. And even if it’s only a ten-minute drive, it feels like an hour. Neither of us says anything. Not even small talk. Not even a stupid comment about traffic or the weather. Just silence.
Ryan pulls up in front of my house and the engine goes quiet, but neither of us moves right away. My heartbeat sounds way too loud.
“So…” I say quickly, the word slipping out before I can overthink it. “Thanks for driving. I’ll see you at school.”
I reach for the door handle—but his hand closes gently around my wrist. “Wait.”
I turn back slowly, already halfway into panic.
He exhales once, like he’s bracing himself. “Can I just—” He stops, swallowing. “Can I say something?”
My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
