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~ Skylar ~
It's been a few weeks since my little tour of New York with Ryder. I've settled in and learnt how to deal with my father and his girlfriend. Mostly only because Ryder's been there to help me escape whenever I've felt trapped. I've tried to forget about Allen. He didn't want to be friends anymore, and I had to accept that, no matter how much it hurt. So I pushed the thought of him into the back of my mind and concentrated on leaving the past behind.
We've become much closer over the past few weeks. We're at that point where we just talk aimlessly about the most random shit ever but can still get into fights over the silliest things. Let's just say we're at that point where we're "best friends." I haven't had one for quiet a while, but I enjoyed it. Having someone to talk and rant to when things are just too much to handle, to watch anime with, to gossip with, to have pillow fights with. Yes, we have pillow fights. Don't judge.
I've learned that Ryder has many more aspects to him than just the bad boy look that suited him so well. He has a nerdy side that I find adorable. He has a passion for reading, screaming at the TV during intense gaming sessions, and listens to amazing bands like Nirvana. He could also be comforting and kind in the most unexpected of situations.
Oh, and he loves his sleep and food. Like seriously. I found this out when I found him asleep on my bed hugging a bag of marshmallows. We had just finished watching the whole season of Angel Beats. I cried through most of it, because you know, the feels. He wouldn't admit it, but he was experiencing the depressing feels too, hence the marshmallows. Comfort food as he put it.
Anyways, I've been clean for 2 weeks now. My cuts have almost all healed. It's a new record, and Ryder's proud of me, claiming he's the main reason. I deny it of course, but he is. He's been there for me in more than anyone else ever has been in such a short period of time.
"Sky! Let's go! We're going to be late!"
Oh, and I'm starting school today. Yes, today I start the hell program that is going to force me to socialize. For a whole 10 months...or 7 months in my case, since I was arriving late.
"Coming!" I groaned. I grabbed my messenger bag, slipping it over my shoulder, and running out the door.
"Jesus, sweetheart, how long does it take for you to get ready?" he joked and revved up the motorcycle.
"Says the one who spends hours on that hairdo of his," I teased back and climbed on behind him, slipping my arms around his waist.
"I'll have you know that this is all natural," he laughed. Then we shot off down the road with the wind whipping my hair.
A few minutes later, we arrived at the building that would keep me imprisoned for my senior year. There were already students everywhere, milling around in their little cliques.
"Ew. People. Does this mean I have to socialize?" I groaned and glared at everybody, pretending they were little evil butterflies I could squish under my black Converse.
Ryder laughed. "You don't need to socialize. You've got me."
"Sounds legit."
We parked and I hopped off. By now, I could get on and off relatively easy without falling into a little broken pile of Skylar.
"Let's go, Princess," Ryder said and slung his arm over my shoulder. I was used to casual things like this now, and I have to say, I enjoyed it. His arm around my shoulders made me feel safer.
We walked up the stairs of New York City High School. Cue the slow claps for creativity. 10 points.
I glanced around nervously at the new faces. Everybody here looked like they fitted right in. A piece in a 1000-piece panoramic puzzle, blending in perfectly with the scene.
Each clique was unique in its own way but there was one clique that stood out the most. The clique everyone knew about. The popular cliques with the cheerleaders and jocks.
In the popular clique, all of the girls had perfect make-up and looked like they stepped off of a model runway, completed with their male companion. Each guy was sculpted perfectly and had that dick-ish aura around them. Yes, that's how I'm going to describe them. "Dick-ish."
"Ew. Who's the new girl?" a blonde cheerleader asked.
"Emo whore," the brunette next to her added.
I felt Ryder tense up next to me.
"Why the fuck is she next to Ryder?" chimed a red head.
"Probably just another toy for the week," replied what seemed to the leader of the group. Platinum blonde on 5-inch heels. The she-devil of this school.
I shrunk into Ryder's arm and tried to ignore the spiteful comments. You can do this. You've been called worse. I told myself as a little pep-talk. Ryder was glaring at the group.
"Why don't you just shut up and go fix your fake boobs, you shallow as fuck sluts?" he yelled.
Some of the girls gasped and stared at him wide-eyed.
"Ryder, let it go," I warned in a low voice.
"Not now, Sky. I gotta deal with these bitches," he replied, still glaring at them.
"Oh, Ryder. You do know we were just joking, right? We love all of your little pets," the platinum sneered. "Right up to the point where you throw them away."
"Shut the hell up, Mina." Ryder glared daggers at Mina and her posse. "Mind your own fucking business."
Mina, huh? A bitchy name for a bitchy rat.
"Let's go, Ryder." I tugged on his arm and we left Mina and Co. behind.
A few minutes later, we were at the office getting my schedule.
"Ugh, they just piss me off so fucking much," Ryder growled and paced the length of the office.
"Ryder, calm down. It's not a big deal. I'm used to it. And you're scaring the secretary lady," I said and grabbed my schedule. "Thanks," I said to the secretary.
She nodded and glanced nervously at Ryder. I tugged on Ryder's sleeve and ushered him out the door.
"What are your classes?" he asked, looking over my shoulder at my schedule. He had to bend down a little because I was so short.
"Ummm... Trigonometry, P.E., English II, World Geo., Art, Psychology, and Study Hall," I read, going down the list.
"I've got Trig., Study Hall, and English with you," he said, still peering over my shoulder.
"Cool. You can show me to my first session of torture then?" I asked, turning my head so I could face him while talking. Without realizing it, I had halved the distance between our faces and now, I was a mere 2 inches from him. We stared at each other, not knowing what to do until I finally cleared my throat and stepped away, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment. Great, now I look like a tomato painted 50 shades of red.
"Yeah, I can do that." He was looking straight at me, which only made my cheeks head up even more.
"What? Is there something on my face?" I asked, glancing at him through the corner of my eye.
He smiled a little before grabbing my hand and walking away. "Nope. You just look frickin' adorable when you blush, sweetheart."
"Shut up," I grumbled.
"Love you, really." He laughed and we headed to Homeroom.
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YOU ARE READING
sweet, sweet memories
RomansaA girl struggling with the death of her mother is forced to move to New York City with her dad where she encounters an intriguing boy named Ryder. The only problem, is that they've met each other. She just doesn't remember, but he does... !!!WARNI...
