The Problem with Forever

  really worry about anything. Anyway, we started dating last spring.” He stopped and looked over at me. “How did you know? Did she talk to you?”

  Oh, man. I didn’t want him to know about the conversation from today. I closed my hands and told myself that none of this was any of my business. “No. I just... I saw the way you two were...um, together the first day of class.”

  His brows rose. “What way was that?”

  Looking away, I sort of wished I’d kept my mouth shut. “She was very...touchy with you.”

  “Huh.” There was a pause. “I’m touchy with you and that doesn’t mean we’re seeing each other.”

  Icy air hit the center of my chest as his words slammed into my consciousness. Whoa. He had a point, a very good point, and while I didn’t think he meant anything when he’d said that, that icy air burned nonetheless.

  “I mean,” he said, knocking his shoulder into mine, “you and I have always been like that.”

  “True,” I murmured, smiling again as I looked up at him.

  Our eyes held for a few seconds and his narrowed. “She didn’t say anything to upset you, did she?”

  “Why...why would you think that?”

  One side of his lips kicked up. “She’s— Let’s just say Paige is a tough girl.”

  The burn radiated out from my chest. Of course Rider would be into a tough girl. He was tough, and Paige had no problem putting me in my much deserved place today. If I’d been in her shoes, I would’ve sat there and said nothing.

  “So she can be a little rough on people,” he finished.

  I shrugged.

  His gaze turned sharp as he focused on me. “Did she say something to you? I can talk to her. Make sure she knows how—”

  “No.” I jerked, startled by myself. The word came out a little louder than I intended. I practically shouted it. “You don’t need to talk with her.”

  A look of doubt crossed his features. “Mallory—”

  “It’s okay.” Wiggling to the edge of the couch, I flicked one of the unused cotton balls across the table. “I mean...she didn’t say anything to me. You don’t have to say anything to her.”

  I looked over my shoulder at him, meaning what I was saying. As much as I...as I loved that he retained that fierce protective streak, I couldn’t rely on him always being there to have my back. For the last four years, he hadn’t been there, and we couldn’t go back. I couldn’t allow it, no matter how easy it would be. “I don’t...I don’t want it like that.”

  “How do you want it?” he asked and then raised his fingers to his brow, rubbing around the cut. His lips twisted in a harsh facade of a smile. “Don’t answer that.”

  I wasn’t sure what that even meant. Confused, I stared at him, feeling like I’d missed something really important.

  “I should get going. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” He scooted to the edge of the couch.

  Before I could protest, which wouldn’t be wise even though I did want him to hang out longer, he placed his hands on my cheeks. My breath stalled out somewhere between my throat and chest. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against my forehead, dropping a kiss that squeezed my heart into slush. My eyes drifted shut as his lips lingered against my skin. Knocked off-kilter, I didn’t move when he pulled back and stood.

  An eternity might have passed before I dragged my eyes open and found him staring down at me, his golden-brown eyes bright, his lips parted. I cleared my throat. “I can...give you a ride.”

  His gaze dipped, and then he arched a brow. “No need. I got it taken care of.”

  Pushing to my feet, I followed him out to the foyer. He reached for the door and then turned back to me. “I’m glad you opened the door.”

  My smile felt wobbly. “I’m glad...you texted.”

  Rider tilted his head to the side. “Yeah?”

  I nodded, probably a little too eagerly, but as the dimple in his right cheek took shape, it was like being rewarded. Our eyes met for a moment, and I didn’t want him to leave. An urge took me like it had during lunch, and I all but bounced forward. Gripping his arms, I stretched up and kissed his cheek. It was pretty much just a peck, so I figured it wasn’t crossing any lines, but the feel of his skin under my lips was still unnerving and unexpected.

  “Be careful,” I whispered, backing off.

  Rider’s grin faded from his handsome face. A moment passed before he spoke. “Always, Mouse.”

  Chapter 9

  I tiptoed up the creaky stairs, wincing every time the boards groaned under my steps. I had to be quiet or Mr. Henry would catch me. That would be bad. Very bad.

  I crept down the dark hallway. Miss Becky was sick again, in bed, but if I could get her up, she would help Rider. Inching the door open slowly, so that it didn’t make a sound, I glanced around the bedroom. The lamp on the nightstand was on, flooding the room with muted yellow light. Empty brown bottles littered the top of the dresser. The room smelled funny. Stagnant. I moved toward the bed, squeezing my hands closed. Miss Becky was lying atop it, but she didn’t look right. She looked like one of those mannequins in the stores, pale and still.

  “Miss Becky,” I whispered, breaking a rule. I was never to wake her up, but Rider needed help. There was no movement on the bed. I crept closer. “Miss Becky?”

  Frightened, I hesitated near the bed. The room blurred. Burning tears filled my eyes as I shifted my weight from my left foot to the right. I tried to say her name again, but there was no sound. The strap of her tank top was halfway down her arm and her chest didn’t seem to move.

  I started to turn away, to go hide, because something was very wrong, but Rider was outside, and it was cold enough that my gloveless fingers had ached on the playground at school earlier. I lifted bony shoulders and rushed back to the bed. I reached out, grabbing Miss Becky’s arm. Her skin felt cold and...and plastic. I yanked my hands back and spun, running out of the room. Miss Becky... She wasn’t going to be able to help. It was up to me, and I wouldn’t let Rider down. I crept back down the steps and quietly edged past the moldy-smelling bathroom.

  Mr. Henry shouted a bad word from the living room, causing my heart to jump, but I pressed on, reaching the back door. Stretching up, I unlocked the door, the sound cracking like thunder throughout the kitchen. I turned the doorknob.

  “What in the hell are you doing, girl?”

  I flinched, shrinking back as my body locked up. I prepared myself for fists as I opened my mouth. Screams ripped through the air, through the house and—

  “Mallory! Wake up!” Hands clutched my shoulders, shaking me. “Wake up.”

  Jerking upright, I yanked myself free as I scuttled across the bed. My right hand hit air. Balance thrown off, I teetered on the edge of the bed. The hand on my left arm tightened. Another scream built in my throat. My wild gaze darted around the brightly lit bedroom. The past slowly peeled back, like the stain of tar and smoke being washed away. No beer bottles. No newspaper-covered kitchen table. I stared into Carl’s dark eyes. Concern was etched on his weary face. His hair stuck up in every direction and his gray shirt was rumpled.

  “Are you okay?” he demanded as I dragged in deep, uneven breaths. “God, Mallory, I haven’t heard you scream like that...”

  In years.

  He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Hand shaking, I brushed hair back from my face as I swallowed. My throat was raw. I realized then that Rosa stood in the doorway, cinching the belt on her robe around her waist. She said something, but I couldn’t follow. In my chest, my heart was pounding fast.

  “It’s okay.” Carl patted my arm as he looked over his shoulder, at the door. “It was just a nightmare, cariño. Go back to bed.”

  How could it be just a nightmare? Nightmares weren’t real. This...this was.

  * * *

  Morning came too soon, and it was all I could do to drag myself through the day. When speech class rolled around, I headed into class and immediately made eye contact with Paige. Today her hair was smo
othed back into one of those ballerina buns and she was wearing large gold hoop earrings. She looked amazing. However, the pinched set to her face when she spotted me was not amazing.

  Dragging my left foot, I stumbled and the crack of my flip-flop sounded like thunder. I didn’t fall, but my hip bumped into an empty desk.

  Paige’s lips twisted up at the corners as she raised a brow.

  Horrified, I froze for half a second and then I snapped out of it. Hurrying to my seat, I sat down. My cheeks were scalding. The way she had been staring at me before I tripped like an idiot made me think that Rider might’ve said something to her like he’d offered to the night before.

  He wouldn’t, I told myself as I opened my notebook and saw the notes I’d scribbled down the day before. Eyes narrowing, I couldn’t figure out what the one sentence I wrote actually meant and—

  “Mouse.”

  Air caught in my throat as I looked up. Rider had to be part ghost, because I hadn’t heard him take his seat beside me or say anything to Paige, but there he was. Wearing an old shirt with a faded emblem and with his arms crossed against his broad chest, he was the picture of lazy arrogance.

  Seeing him after last night had me feeling weird in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t told Carl and Rosa about Rider coming by the house. Worse, I didn’t plan to.

  Mouse.

  Part of me hated that nickname, because of what it symbolized. The other half sort of loved it, because it was his nickname. I wasn’t sure which feeling outweighed the other.

  My heart decided to do something funny in my chest. “Rider.”

  His full lips curved up in a half grin, drawing my attention to his mouth. How could a guy have such perfect lips? It wasn’t fair. And why was I staring at his mouth? The blush turned my face into a breathing strawberry, and his grin spread, showing off the dimple. “Miss me?”

  My hands flattened across my open notebook as my gaze darted toward Paige. She was looking at something Hector was showing her on his phone, but I couldn’t believe he asked that in front of her. Or maybe that wasn’t a big deal and I was making a big deal out of it?

  I forced myself to shrug as I glanced up and saw that the gash above his left eye wasn’t as ugly as before. “How is your head?” I asked, voice low.

  “Totally forgot about it.” His gaze briefly dipped. “How was your day?”

  Something warm shifted inside me as I heard the distant clang of the warning bell. “I ate lunch with Keira today. Second day in a row,” I told him, then winced at how stupid that sounded.

  Rider’s grin turned into a full smile, transforming his handsome face into the kind of masculine beauty that was like a punch to the chest. “That’s really good, Mallory.” His voice dropped as he reached over, curving his hand over my arm. There was a near electric rush from his touch. “I’m proud of you. For real.”

  Giddiness surrounded my heart as I stared at his large hand, darker than my own. He knew how big that was, and I didn’t feel so idiotic. He got it. He got me. And that meant the entire universe to me.

  A shadow fell between our desks. Hector was in the process of sitting down, and had stopped halfway, his head cocked to the side. His eyes were on Rider’s hand, and he looked like a chupacabra had just walked in front of him.

  Rider drew back, folding his arms. “You okay, bro?”

  Hector’s green eyes flicked to him. “Are you?”

  There was no response, and I had no idea what the heck that was all about, but as Hector sat, I realized Keira was also watching us from her seat a few rows up. I forced a smile, praying she hadn’t heard me blurt out the thing about lunch. That would be awkward.

  “Hey, babe,” Paige said, gaining Rider’s attention. “We still on for tonight?”

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek as Rider turned toward her. “Tonight?”

  “Yeah.” Her smile was bright and big, like it had been the first time I saw her with him. “We talked about going to Ramon’s party.”

  I had no idea who Ramon was, but envy unfurled in my stomach. I had never been to a party outside of something organized by adults. I had no idea what that kind of party would be like and I hadn’t really thought about it until now. My gaze shifted between them, and it occurred to me then that even though Rider got me like no one else did, our worlds didn’t orbit each other anymore.

  Now Rider missed school whenever he wanted.

  Now Rider had a girlfriend.

  Rider was invited to parties.

  Me? I was the way I’d been before and would be forever.

  I would never miss school.

  I didn’t have a boyfriend.

  I didn’t go to parties, and with the exception of Ainsley’s sweet sixteen last year, I wasn’t invited to them.

  “Not sure,” Rider responded. “I have to head in to the garage. Might be there most of the night.”

  The garage? I wanted to ask about that, but figured this was not the time to step out of my shell and speak up.

  Paige’s smile froze. “I was really looking forward to going.”

  “Go,” he urged, and he smiled at her. I couldn’t see it, but I knew the right dimple was there. “If I can get out in time, I’ll meet you there. Okay?”

  Paige was still for a moment and then nodded. “Okay.” Reaching over, she folded a hand around the nape of his neck. “I’m going to miss you, though.”

  I really needed to look away.

  “Are you?” Warm amusement colored Rider’s tone.

  I didn’t look away.

  Paige’s fingers tightened and... Was he leaning toward her? I looked away...for about five seconds before my gaze shot back to them. He was sitting straight, and all of Paige’s body parts were in her chair.

  A second passed and Rider looked over, catching me watching them and totally up in their conversation. His smile went deeper, and now I saw the dimple. Lowering my gaze, I refocused on my own desk...and my own business.

  Mr. Santos appeared at the front of the class like there had been a trapdoor in the ceiling he’d fallen out of. That took talent. “All right, kiddos. We’re going to start class off with a little exercise.” He clapped his hands together, startling the boy in the front of the room that had already drifted off to sleep. “When it comes to public speaking, practice is key. The more you do it, the easier it gets. Trust me.”

  A tingling started in my fingers as I straightened.

  “When I was your age—”

  “A century ago,” someone muttered.

  Santos shot the kid a droll look. “Cute. Anyway, when I was your age a few decades ago, the thought of talking in front of a bunch of people made me want to vomit.”

  “Yikes,” murmured a girl.

  There was a good chance I was going to hurl, myself.

  “So it was something I had to work at. We all do. That means we’re going to kick off with a quick introduction.”

  “Oh, shit,” Rider muttered under his breath.

  Santos continued, oblivious to the fact that I was staring at him with my eyes peeled so wide it was like I no longer had eyelids. “Each of you will stand up, face the class, give us your name and tell us one thing you like—keep it classy, folks—and one thing you don’t like. Again, PG rated.”

  Laughter followed, but the blood was draining from my head so fast I felt dizzy. No. I had weeks to prepare for this. Talking in front of the class was not supposed to happen today or tomorrow or next week.

  “Mallory.” Rider called my name in a whisper.

  My hands gripped the edge of the desk as my pulse did its own version of house music. My throat was tightening up as my eyes swung in his direction. Hector’s and Paige’s faces were a blur. A chair scratched across the floor and my gaze followed the sound.

  A guy was standing, hitching up his pants. As instructed, he faced the class. “My name is Leon Washington.” A big grin covered his face. “I don’t like cheese. And I like the chicks in the vids.”

  Chuckles and giggles rose
while Santos shot him a look. Leon plopped down, and up went a girl. My breath was coming out in fast gasps. Paige sat at the end of the first row, Rider at the second, and me at the end of the third. There were seventeen chairs in front of me, two empty.

  Oh, God.

  My wide gaze darted to Rider. Understanding was etched into his expression, in the hard set of his jaw. His gaze darted to the girl