𝐎𝐡, 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐡è

Chapter Seven: I'm Fine

My eyes avert to Ryder's, his pale green irises gazing over my appearance and I hate how small he makes me feel under his intense gaze. "What do you want?" I snap as I place my hands on my hips and wait for an answer.

"No thank you Ryder for saving me?" He asks.  His lips twitch into a smirk and I hate how he always tries to get me to thank him. I readjust myself on the bench and try to avoid him. After the fight we had, we fled the crime scene to the back oval. Now as we sit hidden from sight, we're finally alone from everyone. We knew his father is looking for him and sooner or later he would have to face him.

"Thank you," I mumble as I look down onto my lap and my fingers play together. I didn't know why I had a hard time having manners, I guess I wasn't wired to even act that way.

"What was that?" He asks. He cocks his head slightly to me and places his hand on his ear. Satisfaction is written all over his face as he smirks and I want to really slap him.

"Thank you!" I exclaim as I huff. Crossing my arms across my chest, I fall back into my seat. "Are you happy now?" I grumble.

"The happiest," he laughs. "Now was that hard?" He smirks as his hand pinches my cheek. "I swear I've met no one like you, Brit," he says as I slap his hand away from my face.

"And? That should be a great thing. I'm one of a kind, a rare breed actually," I say as I pick myself up again. That little thanking session had really made me feel weak like I wasn't in control. It was as if Ryder had the upper hand on me and that really pissed me off. Now he could easily pounce at me and rip my confidence and self-esteem away.

He lifts his eyebrows. "You know you picked yourself up pretty quickly after the whole incident. I would've cried for days if something happened to me like that," he voices and I cock an eyebrow.

"Of course I picked myself up pretty well. What do you take me as? Weak?" I huff angrily.

"You know, showing your emotions isn't weak, Brit. If you go through something traumatic, you have the right to reveal how you feel. I know you're trying to act confident and brave but give yourself a break," he says as his voice softens a touch. He leans closer, his forest green irises blazing into my own and his lips set in a tight line.

"Am I getting advice about feelings from the infamous Ryder Carter? I thought you would've been the last person to say pathetic crap like that," I state as I place my hand under my chin and stare into his eyes.

"You think I'm emotionless? Yeah, right," he says as he chuckles. "I just know how to hide them pretty well. But when I'm alone, that's when they get the best of me," he mumbles.

"Oh, so you do have feelings? Now that's a new side to you, I see," I smirk.

"You just haven't been around me long enough. No one has anyways. I'm just saying that it's okay to not be strong all the time, that you don't always have to keep a tough front. I've learnt it the hard way," he voices, his eyes turning away for a brief moment before making their way onto mine again.

"I'm naturally strong, you idiot," I spit. "I don't keep a tough front or try to hide my emotions. Whatever you're seeing right now is what I'm feeling; I'm annoyed, frustrated and pissed," I huff and cross my arms across my chest. I know I should open up to him, I even have a feeling to open up to him but I won't. I just met the guy and I have to reveal my life story? Yeah, no thank you. That's the goody-two-shoes job. She's the one who pours her feelings and makes the bad boy change.

"Fine, whatever. I'm just saying you don't always have to be okay and you can talk to someone," he surrenders. He huffs and throws his arms in the air and I know I've ticked him off. "I just thought you needed someone to talk to, don't need to get your panties in a twist," he continues and I roll my eyes.