Reign of the Rejected Rosary (Ryden/Peterick)

Chapter Six

(important a/n at end of chapter)

I was coming back from my lunch break when Jon handed me two order slips. He told me the pizzas were on the counter before hurrying off.

We needed to hire a new deliverer.

But then I saw the second slip, and I decided that making these deliveries wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Then the door to my first delivery opened. And they weren't happy. I tried to smile and be friendly, but she knew who I was. She stared at me, lips frowned and pursed.

She told me that I deserved to rot in hell. I was a sick bastard. I didn't deserve to be free.

I heard it all before. It shouldn't have hurt me so much.

She said she would not accept food from a place that employed someone like me. She demanded a refund. I couldn't let Stefania take a loss. It wasn't her fault. I handed the woman money from my own wallet.

Slam.

I went back to the car, ten dollars less and one pizza too many.

The words of a stranger shouldn't have killed me as much as they did. My gut twisted. I was so worthless. My grip on the wheel tightened. People who didn't even know me hated me over a lie. It hurt. I felt sick.

I pulled over and called Stefania. She told me to go home after my last delivery. I could return the car tomorrow.

When I hung up I started crying. I didn't want a tomorrow. There was no point in any of this. Going home to my family wasn't a better environment. That left me with more quality time locked in my bedroom. That's wonderful. I would be locked away with all my thoughts. I wanted that when I was younger. Now I wanted to be locked without thoughts. But I couldn't casually fall apart.

Why did I hurt so badly? A stranger's opinion shouldn't have mattered. I told myself it didn't. I knew the truth, and that should've been enough. I had to calm down. Gain composure. Stop crying. I still had a delivery to make. I couldn't let Ryan see---

No.

Stop.

Strangers' opinions don't matter.

Make the delivery then go to your room.

Done.

***

I closed my eyes and took a breath before ringing the doorbell. I was not going to break down on the doorstep. I had no need to. But no matter how much I would've told that to myself the water would still fall. Why was this so hard?

I stood there, tears falling on my Converse. I heard footsteps from inside walking towards the door, and when it opened I just held out the pizza.

"Twelve fifty on credit," I whispered, staring at his black jeans. I couldn't even bear to look at the one I wanted to see. "Have a nice day."

I turned to sulk away, but he called out after me.

"Wait," he said. "You're crying."

I stopped, but didn't turn around.

"Are you okay?"

His voice actually sounded concerned. I nodded, even though he probably couldn't see me. I heard him set the box down and step outside.

I should've walked away, but I stayed there, waiting for a move I wasn't even sure he would make. My knees locked and my shoulders hunched over, arms crossed at the waist.

"Would you... like to come in?"

I turned around. He bit his lip and pulled the sleeves of his black hoodie over his hands, long fingers holding the cuffs tightly. His eyes stared at the porch floor, not allowing me to gaze into their caramel hue.