The Quirky Tale of April Hale (Quirky Series #1)

2.28 an alternate universe with the other one

R Y D E R

.interlude.

IMMEDIATELY AT THE 'BREAKUP'. (Or more appropriately, a case of harakiri)

Ryder felt like he had just disemboweled himself. Everything was aching and worst of all, when he tried to cry, all that he could manage was painful, painful, tearless howls. What was worse was that he had been holding her when he was destroying Them.

She was crying so much, her small body shuddered and twitched as she tried her best to hold his grandmother's ice-cream. With every sob that came out from her lips, Ryder felt like it wasn't in his place to also cry, to relieve some of his pain. He was the proprietor of this. He didn't deserve any alleviation.

He still drove her home afterwards, and the whole ride was awkward and painful. They didn't share a single look towards each other, much less a word. When they arrived at her townhouse, Ryder contemplated to grab her hand, kiss her, and say everything was okay, that he had been out of his mind, that he never wanted any of that to happen, that he really really didn't want to lose her and that he would rather die than seeing her go.

But when he opened his mouth, none of those words came out. The only thing he could manage was a huffed grunt.

"Thank you for the ride," her voice beat him from saying anything, and then she shuffled out of his car. She didn't even look back at him when she walked towards the little porch of her townhouse.

Up until an hour ago, They had been RyderandApril or AprilandRyder.

But now they were just Ryder and April.

-

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ONE MONTH AFTER THE BREAKUP

AGE 18 AND A HALF

Alyssa Phillipe Valencia Black (Aka the Grandma): my grandson is an idiot. Maybe a bigger idiot than my son, Gregory. Idiocy runs in this family, I guess.

-

It had been the sixth sleepless day for Ryder. His head was spinning and his whole body desperately screamed for some rest. But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was April crying and that was a nightmare he wasn't ready to face.

But he also couldn't eat. Food didn't taste good anymore. He tried to watch tv, drink liquor, anything, anything to distract him from this constant pain. But nothing ever light up the switch. Nothing provided him a little bit of relief. He felt like a dead man trying to live past his expiration date.

"I'd really prefer see you dead when you fight on some shady-ass street," his grandmother's voice was harsh. "-rather than slowly killing yourself like this."

On day 36 post the Harakiri, Ryder decided to go out from his grandmother's house and tried to win April back.

As soon as he stepped into the sun (and it was his first sun after a very dark two weeks), that motherfucker pulled over in front of his house.

The sleek coat hanging on Alex's shoulder looked more expensive than Ryder's whole closet combined. As always, his light brown hair was parted to the side, a rich kid's default hairstyle. What ticked Ryder more, though, was Alex's brand new Maserati.

"You're not going there," was the first thing that Alex said to him.

Oh, fuck.

Ryder balled his fists. "You don't tell me what to do."