The Popularity Project

Chapter Thirty Five - Cheat

Picture of Vivian and Perry

Ryder's POV

Yes.

Yes, I feel terribly guilty. I feel as though everything has taken a pause, all I can do is hold my breath and wait for my world to implode. It’s over, I know that. Vivian will never want me, she never has needed me. I need her, I have the most to lose, yet I am the one screwing things up. She has become my everything, which was a moronic decision on my part. If my parents have taught me one thing, it’s that you should never let other people determine your happiness, you will always be disappointed or hurt. I will be hurt, and she will be disappointed. Disappointed that I couldn’t be enough for her, I couldn’t put her first. I am selfish, because I still want her to love me. I want my mistakes to stay uncovered and in the past, I want her to never see me as I truly am.

Damn Charlotte will not rest until Vivian knows. Until she sees me as I am, an asshole with no regard for anyone. That’s who I was, in the past. She changed me, and I will never be grateful enough to her. She showed me true pain, first by loving me, then revealing everything she’s been through, and finally letting me go.

“Hello,” a voice breaks my concentration. I look up to see the one person I have been actively avoiding.

“Hey,” I stand from the chair and make my way to the exit of the café.

“Ryder-“ Vivian follows me. The café is nearly empty, one couple our age are flirting and laughing lightly. The ease they have, just simply talking. I can see the love in their eyes.

“I can’t talk now, sorry.” I say curtly.

When she reaches out to brush her cold fingers on my bare arm, I shiver and feel my resolve break in half. I turn around to face the love of my life. She looks different since I saw her three days ago. Three days ago. That’s all it was, but it felt like a lifetime. Her eyes are swollen, red rimmed, and accompanied with dark bags. Her red hair is in a top knot, ad somehow has lost its usual shine. Vivian wears a tee-shirt, sweatpants, and uggs. Her lip quivers when I grimace at her appearance.

“You look like hell,” I remark quietly.

“You don’t,” she whispers, surprised that I look normal. My clothes are clean, my hair clean, my face clean, my eyes clean and clear of imperfections.

“Thanks,” I smile arrogantly.

“Can I just ask you one question?” Vivian whispers quietly.

“You just did,” I whisper back with menace and mocking rich in my tone.

She opens her mouth, then closes it. A deep frown takes hold of her beautiful face. I want to smooth away the lines, but in doing so I would imply everything between us is okay, when it’s not. It’s not because I am unfaithful.

“Speechless? I know I usually have that effect on women,” I laugh.