You're Not Enough

Chapter 83

"Don't just stand there." My father says. I would've been moved if my feet weren't glued to the floor. I use all my strength to lift my feet and walk into the living room.

"Nice to see you again, Jayda," Josiah says. He is sitting on the other seat across from the couch.

I would say it's nice to see him too, but I'm not supposed to lie.

I turn and look at my father. "Well, you brought the rover back in one piece." He jokes. He looks out the window at the car. I force a smile.

"A Range Rover!" Josiah says, admiring the car also.

"Where's Mom?" I ask my father. It just hit me that she never texted me back.

He looks back at me. "Still at work, she should be home soon."

"Oh." I'm trying my best not to look at Ryder even though I can feel his burning gaze on me. I thought I would have mixed feelings about seeing him again. I mean, I do. I'm ambivalent, But at the same time, I'm mad as shit, and I should be too; I know what he did now. He's the reason that I gave up on everything.

Yeah, learning that I was not going to NYU played a big part in me giving up, but losing Caleb, played an even bigger part. It's all Ryder's fault. If it weren't for my father and Josiah being here in front of us, I surely would have confronted him about it—it's taking everything in me not just to smack him right now.

"Can I go upstairs? I have to get ready." I blurt out.

"Uh, sure." My father says hesitantly. I give Josiah a quick smile goodbye before leaving.

I go into my room and walk right over to my bed; I take my phone and put it onto the charger, I take a deep breath inhaling from my stomach, and not my nose like Rachel told me too.

I close my eyes and do it 3 times.

When I open them, I don't feel as angry as I was before, I'm still mad, but I'm not overly mad. I'm not allowing my emotions to take over me...physically.

The last thing I need right now is for another seizure to happen. Though now that I think about it, if I have a seizure, I won't be able to go to school tomorrow; I will have to stay home. A seizure doesn't sound too bad right about now.

But if I have a seizure, that means I won't be able to go out with Caleb tonight, and I really want to go. Even though I know this is a bad idea.

I click my phone to look at the time. It's five-thirty. I need to get dressed; he should be here soon.

...

Ugh. I remove the scrunchy from my head for the fifth time. This bun just won't come outright. I wish my mother were here; she does the best buns.

She still has not called me back yet. I hope she is okay. It's five-fifty now. She should be on her way back soon. I guess I'll just have to see her when I get back.

Caleb texted me some minutes ago, telling me that he was close. That was twenty minutes ago, so I know he should be here any minute.

I shake my head and allow my curls to fall. I guess this will have to do. I walk over to my mirror and examine myself—I'm wearing a black long sleeve crop top and my ripped black jeans. It has been forever since I've worn something black, which is weird, considering it is my favorite color.

I walk over to my closet; I need a jacket; I checked the temperature. It's supposed to drop later. I look through all the jackets in my closet and then pull out my red hoodie and my black one. I then turn around towards my bed and throw them both on it.

"Jayda."

A voice startles me. I don't turn around, and I can't turn around; I don't want to look at him, I don't want to see him. If I turn around to him, my hand will go flying in the air right across his face. I try to inhale a deep breath to keep calm, but I forgot how to breathe. My breathing is rapid and shallow.

The floor creaks as he walks further into the room over to me. He is standing right behind me, he isn't touching me, but I can feel his presence. I turn around and face him. I look up at him; he looks different. There's a cut on his lip. His hair is about an inch or two longer than it usually is. There's also a new tattoo on his neck. I can't really make out what it is, but I do know it's another symbol. "What are you doing here?" I ask him. This is not the time to be examining him; he needs to go before Caleb gets here.

"My dad wanted to talk to your dad about some property in New York." He says.

"No, what are you doing here?" I say bitterly. From what I've seen in New York, he doesn't seem to like his father very much; it's hard to picture him just wanting to ride over here with him. I know he didn't just come just because.

"I need to talk to you."

"Well, I really don't care; I don't want to hear anything you have to say. I'm getting ready." I snap, narrowing my eyes at him. He wants to talk to me, it's been a whole month, and now he wants to talk to me. "You could've talked to me a month ago, but you didn't." I stop and give him the chance to defend himself, to make an excuse, but he doesn't. He just stares. "You know what, just forget it." I turn back around to my bed and grab my black jacket.

I walk past him. He grabs my arm. "Wait," he growls, pulling me back. I feel that familiar burn as his hand grips my wrist. I don't look at him; I turn to the side facing my mirror. "I'm sorry I didn't call," he says. I stay quiet, still not looking at him. But I can see him because I'm looking at our reflection in the mirror, "Are you seriously this mad? All because I never called you." an egotistical smile comes across his face. Does he seriously think this is funny?

I turn away from my mirror and face him again. If I was lighter, I'm sure he would see my face turning red with anger. "I really don't give a shit that you didn't call," I lie. I can tell he is taken back by my use of words. "I knew you wouldn't because you're a liar, and you can't be trusted." I know he is offended at my words, his eyes are a darker green, and I can see his chest moving up and down; that familiar vein pops out of his neck. He's furious. For a strange reason, I like the fact that he's mad. If he's mad, then I know he's hurt; it feels good to know I'm not the only one that's hurt. "Why would you lie to Caleb? Are you really that press for me to be somewhere with you that you feel the need to lie?" I shoot at him, using his sentence structure against him.

He presses his lips together in anger. His grip on my wrist is tighter; I can see my hand turning red. I pull my arm, but he doesn't release. "I wasn't fucking press for you to be somewhere with me." he snaps.

"Oh, so why would you lie?"

"Because what the fuck Jayda, he doesn't fucking like you." he spits.

I stare at him blankly.

"He just wants to fuck." he adds. He laughs right at me. I try to hold back my tears. "I was helping you. I did you a fucking favor. He would've taken advantage of you, fucked you, and left."

"That's not true!" I spit out. "How could you even know that?"

"Okay, let's say it's not. What's your point for even being with him? I mean, you fucking cut. You want to die, right?"

"I don't cut... anymore," I lie.

He pulls me closer towards him fast; he takes his left hand and pulls back the sleeve of my right hand, revealing the truth about the lie I just told seconds ago. I stare at the seven red cuts on my forearm.

"Then what the fuck is this!" he yells sternly. "Does Caleb do know you do this shit?" I stay quiet. He doesn't, does he?

I use this opportunity to pull my arm away from him. I quickly pull my sleeve back down. Tears fall from my eyes. "Stay the hell away from me!"

He presses his lips together. "And you call me a liar." he turns around and walks out of my room, slamming the door shut.

(I'm not even mad Ryder tbh.)