46. Ollie

Where the hell was Ryde?

When I walked out of Ms. M's office, he was nowhere to be found, and honestly, it kind of pissed me off. So I was supposed to take whatever consequences we had while he ran off and hid behind his parents' money?

To be fair, it hadn't been that bad. Ms. Melrose had been surprisingly cool about it. And even though I was terrified my parents would find out I'd been caught skipping class and making out in closets, they wouldn't be mad I'd been with a guy.

Ryde's parents would never be okay with his orientation. It would cost them too much money from Ryde's paycheck. He was going to be an actor—a famous one—and girls would go crazy over him. If they knew he was gay, he'd lose the fans who wanted to be with him.

I tried to point out to him that there were plenty of queer people who would love him, but gay guys weren't half the population like women were.

So we'd been sneaking around. Making out in closets and staying after school on Monday afternoons when my dad thought I was at botany club.

That was, until today.

On the way to class, I made sure no one was around and got out my phone to send him a text.

Ollie: Are you okay?

I looked at the screen for a moment…no response. Maybe he was already back in class.

Tucking my phone back in my bag, I went back to the English room. We were reading To Kill a Mockingbird out loud for the hour.

Making out in a closet had seemed like a much better use of my time. You know, until we got caught.

When I slipped back into English class, I made an excuse about needing to see the nurse and got back into my seat. For the rest of the hour and every hour until the final bell, I was on edge, waiting to see what Ryde would say.

As usual, I waited in the bathroom until most of the students cleared out, either going to a sports practice, meeting for a club, or heading home. After about fifteen minutes of scrolling social media and wondering why Ryde hadn't texted me, I left the bathroom and went to the A/V room.

It was technically Mr. Davis's office, but he was always gone by this time. The room made a perfect place to pass the time, crouched amongst the stacks of VHS tapes and recording equipment.

But today when I walked into the room, Ryde wasn't there.

I'd had a feeling he wouldn't show, but having my fears confirmed was the worst.

I looked around, wondering what to do. My dad wouldn't be here to pick me up for another two hours. I could call him and say botany club let out early...

But the thought of doing that just pissed me off more. Ryde was being a coward. He hadn't even asked how I was after being caught. This on and off was driving me insane, and we needed to figure it out.

I got my phone out of my pocket and dialed his number. It rang so long I thought he was going to screen my call. But then his voice came on the phone, and I swore my heart relaxed just at the sound.

"Ollie, I'm not going to make it today," he said with a sigh. Like he was already tired of talking to me and entertaining my emotions.

Half fueled by rage and half by desperation, I said, "Like hell you aren't."

"Excuse me?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm in my car. I thought about coming in, but I just... I just can't."

"Then I'll come to you. The least you could do is give me a ride home." My words came out a lot more confident than I felt. I just hoped like hell he'd wait long enough for me to get there and convince him this was worth it. That we were worth it.

I gripped my phone tightly in my hand as I left the A/V room. There was hardly anyone in the hallway as I walked outside, and eventually, I walked down the school's front steps, craning my neck to check the parking lot.

At the sight of Ryde's car, my shoulders relaxed, but that movement was too much, and I toppled down the last several steps, banging my elbow and then my shoulder hard on the concrete.

"Shit," I muttered, rolling on my back and holding my elbow in my hand. I could feel where the fabric of my blazer had ripped. But my pride hurt even more. Had anyone seen me?

A car door slamming shut and feet pounding on the sidewalk confirmed they had.

Before I could sit up all the way, Ryde was at my side, helping me to a seated position.

"Shit, Ollie," he said, taking my elbow in his hands. "Are you okay?" His hazel eyes intensified at the sight of my arm. "You're already bleeding."

"I was bleeding before I fell," I muttered.

Letting go of my arm, he said, "What does that mean?"

"It means you're hurting me," I said, tears stinging my eyes. Maybe from the pain of falling down the stairs. Maybe from the pain of falling for Ryde. "One second you're happy to have me and the next you're nowhere to be seen, and I swear I have fucking whiplash from it all!" I hissed.

Ryde still looked around, making sure no one could hear us. I was so sick of the secrets. Tired of the lies.

He gently tipped up my chin with his bent fingers. "I'm not as brave as you are, Ollie."

I blinked, sending a tear falling over my cheek. "I'm not that brave. I just love you."

Ryde's lips parted at what I'd told him. It was the first time saying the words out loud, but I meant them. I knew they were the truth. When he'd broken things off between us last time, I'd fallen apart. Why wasn't I good enough for him to love me out loud? Why wasn't I worth the risk?

"Ollie..."

I braced myself for the worst. That he didn't love me back. Or that he did, and it still wasn't enough, just like it hadn't been enough for my parents.

Ryde sat beside me, a regretful look on his handsome face. I'd never seen someone who looked like him—with shaggy blonde hair that got lighter at the tips. Or golden skin so perfectly tan. And his eyes. They held me, just like they always did. "I do love you."

The words were exactly what I'd wanted to hear, so why was I crying harder now? "Why do you look so upset about it?"

"I didn't want to love you," he said. "But I do. And you know why I can't be open about it. But when it's just the two of us...it's perfect."

I looked away from him. I was tired of the secrets. But was I willing to give him up?

"Come on," Ryde said. "Let's get out of here."

He helped me up and walked with me to his car. I got in, resting my arm on the center console. As he drove away from the school, our pinkies touched. It wasn't much—no one could see—but it was enough. For now.