What's Enough?

Chapter 131

Jayda POV

I knew it. I place the box of champagne onto the table. Luckily all the waiters are busy. After searching my surroundings, I grab one of the wine openers: just a swig, something to take the edge off.

Before I can place the bottle onto my lips, a hand comes around me and takes it away; I slowly turn around, expecting it to be an adult, but instead, it's Ryder. "What are you doing here?"

I knew his parents were coming, but I didn't expect him to come, with his leg and all.

He's standing in front of me, in a black and white suit, balancing on his crutches while still holding the bottle in his hand. I scan over his outfit; he's actually wearing a suit this time, unlike last time when we were going to the play, he wore a suit jacket and black jeans.

"What are you doing?" he asks me.

"Has anyone ever told you it's rude to ask a question with a question?" I fire. "Now give me the bottle back," I try to reach for it, but he just moves back.

"Last time I checked, you were 17, which means underage," he says, stating the obvious.

"And so are you!" I counter, "Yet you drink,"

He then says, "That's because I don't have a problem,"

"I don't have a problem," I lie.

He tilts his head, not believing me, "Do you not remember the time I saw you drunk?"

"Okay, and. That was one time,"

"Somehow, I doubt that was the only time,"

I take a deep breath angrily; he's getting on my nerves, "You don't know me, Ryder! So stop acting like you do," I shout, good thing the place is bursting with laughter and music; no one probably even heard me.

He frowns and says, "I don't know you?" with a slight smile, implying that he, in fact, does know me.

"Could you just give me the bottle and bottle and leave me alone?"

"No,"

He continues staring at me, not back down; before I can say more, my grandfather walks in; he looks at Ryder and then at me. I wait for him to ask what's going on, but he doesn't; he grabs the box of champagne on the counter.

"Ugh, more champagne," he groans, "I need something stronger if I'm expected to sit around and listen to rich people problems," He looks at me, "I don't know how you do this every year,"

"Me neither," He smiles and then looks at Ryder and then back to me. Oh right. "Oh Grandpa, this is Ryder Adams, a boy from school,"

Ryder rolls his eyes while placing the champagne bottle onto the counter. He reaches out to shake my grandfather's hand, "Nice to meet you, son," my grandfather says.

"Nice meeting you too," he replies.

We then stand in awkward silence, I already know what my grandfather is thinking, and I will be sure to clear everything up for him later.

Grandpa then says, "Well, I'm going to go embarrass your father a little more, you two kids have fun," before walking away.

"So you don't think I'm your friend?" Ryder asks as soon as my grandfather is no longer in hearing distance.

"Huh?"

"You just said I was a boy from school. Is that all I am to you?"

I then ask, "What am I to you?" He stares at me blankly, not giving me an answer. "Exactly, you can't say it, neither can I. You took a bullet...bullets for me, yet you can't even call me your friend,"