sweet, sweet memories

Chapter Nine ~ The Wtf Day

NOT EDITED!!!

Sorry for the long wait.

Enjoy!

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~ Ryder ~

I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault she was crying. Even though it had been originally her idea to burn that journal, I had kind of pushed her by making her burn it herself. Whatever she read before she had burned it had obviously unearthed some terrible memory that was now causing her pain. It was the least I could do to hold her and help her sleep.

She smelled good. Like a basket of strawberries and vanilla. I hugged her a little closer, and buried my head into the crook of her neck, taking in her intoxicating scent.  And before I knew it, I had fallen asleep, holding the person dearest to me.

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I woke up the next morning with the space next to me empty and cold.  I lazily ruffled my hair into it's naturally messy do and sat up to search for my source of heat.  As my eyes adjusted to the morning light, I finally perceived the rushing sound in my ear to be the shower running.  She must've gotten up to shower, I thought.  I stood up and enjoyed the feel of my joints cracking as I stretched.  The sun shone through the window, casting the room with a warm glow.  I peered between the curtains and it looked like a bright, sunny day.  

I could still hear the shower running, and me, being the certified badass I was, I did the pettiest thing ever.  I quietly snuck into the bathroom and  stole her clothes before escaping with the "prize." Snickering, I stuffed the clothes into a crevice between her bed and her bookshelf.

"Ryder?" she called from the bathroom.  She probably heard me; it didn't matter though.  The deed was done. 

"Yeah, hon?" I yelled back mockingly.

"You better not have taken my clothes or I swear to God, I will cut off every last strand of that infuriatingly perfect hair of yours!"

"Glad to know you think my hair is 'infuriatingly perfect'."  I laughed and searched for a new t-shirt and jeans in her closet.  After enough times of me sleeping over, I had my own wardrobe over here.  I heard the shower turn back on and the steady patter of water hitting the tub continued.

As I searched through the wardrobe, I couldn't help but let my mind wander.  I filtered outfit ideas through my head while thinking about a plan for the day.  We definitely weren't going to school because Skye needed a day off.  Seriously.  And it's not like she would have anything planned out; she never does.  The park, maybe?  Nah, too clichě.  Picnic  on the cliff side?  Maybe.  I pushed the second idea off to the side, leaving it as a possible candidate.  I went through a few more ideas: the museum, Caterina's for lunch, but none of them seemed like something she would want to do.  Frustrated, I took my slight rage out on my outfit.  Instead of finding something slightly classy like I had originally planned, I just threw on a white t-shirt and gray sweats.  Before I headed out  of the closet, I tucked a picture into my pocket.  The picture was old, worn, and wrinkled at the edges from countless years of putting in and pulling out of pockets; a polaroid of me and Skylar as kids, taken by my mother.  Her, 5 and me, 6.  I always carried the photograph with me.  For the longest time, it was all I had left of our friendship.  Even though she was back now, I didn't feel right without it there.  I heard the shower turn off, and groaned.  I still didn't have anything planned.  Fuck me and my indecisiveness.  

"Ryder!!!  My clothes!  Now!"  

My dilemma momentarily forgotten, I chuckled and leaned against the bathroom door.  "I don't know what you're talking about, Princess!  The toilet must've flushed it away along with all that crap!"  I could hear her pace around in the bathroom in the cute way she does when she's agitated.  Imagining her doing that wrapped in a towel nearly made me open the door and jump her right then and there, but I held myself back to keep my decency.