Look at Things Differently

Chapter 5

        "Kylee, we need to talk,"

        I look at Ryan when he says this the next morning. I still have yesterday's outfit on. I fell asleep in them, watching "Legion of the Black."

        "What's wrong?" I ask in a monotone.

        "Ky..." he says in a tone that instantly makes me worry. "Look, you've gotta cheer up."

        "Ry, look at what's happened. How can I possibly cheer up? I just lost both grandparents and my father. How could anyone be able to cheer up from that? I mean, maybe I will, eventually. But not this soon after. I will, I promise. I'll try. But I need some time first, okay?"

        "... Okay, Ky."

        I walk over to him, and wrap my arms around him.

        "And... I'm sorry." I say. He just hugs me tighter.

"Kylee, phone's for you!"

        I open my door and run down the stairs, two at a time, when my mom calls me.

        "Hello?" I say breathlessly.

        "Wow, that's the most emotion I've heard from you in a while," Ryan's voice says.

        "Yeah, I wish I could say the same about you, Mr Robot," I say jokingly. He laughs quietly.

        "Meet me at the tracks," he says. "Think you can?"

        "Of course!" I reply, curious and excited. We haven't been on a date since before my Grandmother died. That was June, and it is now August.

        "Alright. See you in a few."

        "Yeah! See you."

        I hang up and dash back to my room. I grab my rhinestone flats and my phone, hesitating to stare at the One Direction case. I shrug and put tihe phone in my pocket.

        As I walk out the frint door, two things hit me:

        First: Why did Ryan call the house phone, and not my cell phone?

        And second: For once I felt nothing when I looked at my phone. No fangirling, no smiles, nothing.

        My life is changing.

        What is going on?

"Ryan!" I call out when I reach the train tracks. He leans against a stone pillar. He turns when he hears me. He looks... different. It's then that I smell the alcohol on his breath. A beer bottle lies on the ground near him.

        "Ky... wassup?"

        "Ryan, what's going on? You're drunk. You never drink, Ry."

        "Kylee... I c-came here to..." he sways on his feet. I lurch forward to steady him, but he doesn't look at me.

        "To what? Ryan, please look at me."

        He does. But it's a stone cold look. He clears his throat, takes a sip from the water jug inhis hand, and continues in a stronger voice.

        "We're done." he says. Just two somple words, but they feel like daggers. My hands immediately drop from his arms, and I stumble back a couple steps.

        "But... why?" I whisper. But he's already walking away and I can't find my voice. I can't move, either. He gets into the passenger seat of a red Chevy pickup, and the truck drives away, taking Ryan with it.

        When the truck is out of sight, I manage to shuffle home.