Chapter 7

5 0 0
                                    

Eden POV

“I fucking hate her!” I threw my stuff in, and then flopped into the passenger side of Ryder’s car. Riker had a detention for being tardy, so Ryder was taking me to Taco Bell.

“Who now?” Ryder asked as he started to pull out.

We’d become kind of close in the three blissful months I’d been dating his brother, sitting together at football games, at football practices, we’d even started texting each other more and more.

He was honestly one of the best friends I’d ever had seeing as he always seemed to listen. Which was sad, because my supposed best friend was the one who should be there.

“Bridget of course, she’s just a bitch, I can’t take it anymore.” I glared out the window as he drove. “And Cora obviously doesn’t give a flying fuck. She just lets all this shit happen.”

“You’re such a spaz when you’re mad.” He chuckled, I glared at him again and he stopped. “Damn, kidding. Tell me what happened this time.”

“Bridget’s a bitch whore. I’m pretty sure that she’s just trying to edge me out.”

Now that he’d gotten me started venting I didn’t know when I’d be able to stop.

“Seems like it.”

“I just wish she’d go away and leave us alone!” I was furious.

“Well what happened?” Ryder asked.

“She’s such a fucking mooch, I called her out on it so she made fun of me for being a virgin. She always does that!” I sighed and let myself relax. It was over.

“Fuck em.” Ryder said simply as he turned into the Taco Bell drive through.

“What? And how’d you know I wanted Taco Bell?” I stared at him.

“A) You don’t need em if they make you feel like that all the time, fuck em. And b) you always want Taco Bell, plus it’s cheap.” I shook my head. “Always the gentleman Mr. Owens.” He grinned at my sarcasm.

“Why thank you Miss Black, now shut up so I can order.”

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We got back to school as it turned three o’clock. Only a half an hour left in Riker’s detention. Ryder and I went inside and sat outside the detention teacher’s room to eat.

“So, how’s the single life treating you?” I asked as I picked through my chips and cheese.

“Oh, you know, it kinda sucks but it’s kinda nice. I’m not getting yelled at as much anymore.” His somber expression saddened me. I fooshed his curly hair.

“Cheer up buttercup. I know there’s someone out there who loves writing scary poetry, Slipknot, and wearing tight pants just as much as you do.” He smiled at me, not the one he wears as a mask either, a legit Ryder freaking Owens smile.

May I?Where stories live. Discover now