I'm already fifteen minutes late to school when I begin to curse myself.
"What's wrong?" Caiden asks worriedly from where he's pulling on his shoes. My father isn't even downstairs yet- our whole family kind of slept in. At least we'll all go down together.
"I think I forgot my backpack at Bryce's," I mutter, quickly checking the shoe closet to make sure it didn't end up there.
"Where do you usually keep it?" he asks.
"My room! But it wasn't there and I literally tore the whole place apart. Then I checked the dining area, since that's where I usually do homework. I didn't even have homework last night though! Point is, it's not in this house."
"I'm sure he'll bring it to school," Caiden tells me. "Text him."
I do, but five minutes later, he still hasn't answered. Caiden, Ryan and I are standing outside waiting for my father to come downstairs already and drive us to school. Ryan notices my anxiety shooting through the roof and raises an eyebrow. "What's with you?"
"She forgot her backpack at Bryce's," Caiden explains softly.
"He's not answering me!" I exclaim, shaking my phone, as if that'll get an answer out of him. "My backpack has my speech in it! I'm presenting tonight, if I don't have my cue cards-"
Ryan rolls his eyes. "Ellie, you've recited that speech so much that I have it permanently engraved in my mind. Would you just calm down? I'm sure Bryce will bring your bag to school."
I huff but fall quiet. Ryan is right, I'm freaking out for no reason. Bryce will bring my bag to school, even if it he doesn't end up seeing my text. He won't just leave it laying around knowing I need it for tonight. He wouldn't leave it laying around even if I didn't need it for tonight. He'll bring it, I just need to calm down.
The thought never occurs to me until twenty minutes later that Bryce actually has to be at school for him to bring me my bag. Which he's not. Bryce is not in math class, nor is he answering my spam of texts. I share textbooks with a guy named Dominick, who smells a lot like cat piss, since Sadie isn't here.
Good God, I'm going to kill Bryce Newton. If he's skipping to go get drunk or do whatever illegal crap he does with his friends, I'm going to strangle him. It pisses me off enough that he does that stuff but especially when he knows I need my bag?
When lunch comes along, I waste no time grabbing a sandwich from the cafeteria and then heading out in the direction of Bryce's apartment. At the rate that I'm speed walking, I reach Bryce's apartment in record timing before (quite aggressively) ringing his room up.
It takes a couple of minutes, but finally a groggy voice sounds through the speaker. "Hello?"
"Bryce, let me up."
Bryce coughs. "Ellie? Sure, give me a second."
When the doors finally open to allow me in the apartment complex, I rush up the stairs, not even bothering to wait for the elevator. Bryce is already waiting for me, his head peeking out from the half-closed door. That's when I notice that Bryce looks like utter crap.
His eyes are red and puffy, his hair is sticking in all different directions, his face is ghostly and his shirt is wrinkly. I raise my eyebrows at his dishevelled state. "Jesus, what happened to you?" I ask as I approach.
"I don't feel well," Bryce mutters, running one hand through his hair before using it to rub his eyes. With a loud yawn, he pushes the door further open and allows me inside.
"You were fine last night," I say, wincing when hearing the accusing tone that my voice holds. Bryce doesn't even blink, though. That's the thing with Bryce- he takes pretty much nothing to heart. Sometimes that can be beneficial and sometimes it can just feel like he's holding up a barrier.
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The Ribbon Campaign
Teen FictionWhen Ellie Reinhart started the 'Ribbon Campaign' in support of her brother and his boyfriend, she didn't expect it to grow into what it is. But it does. And that's where Bryce Newman comes in.