Page 70 of I Don't Need Your Love
Hopefully I’ll have a chance to talk to her tomorrow. And if not, then the day after. And the day after that. There’s no way I’m leaving things as they are.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Carly
The best thing about art class is that we’re not graded. The worst part? It’s my last class of the day, and we only meet once a week. Too bad we can’t have onlyoneadvanced class instead of every day.
I enter the classroom and take my spot toward the front of the room. My easel and canvas are exactly where I left them last week. My painting of the landscape of my hometown is sort of good—for an amateur like me. I’m excited to continue and see what the finished product will look like.
As the room fills up, I prepare my paintbrushes and the rest of the things I’ll need to resume my masterpiece. Most of the kids are chatting and laughing, some are complaining how much they hate this class. Their friends agree and claim they wish they could skip and go for a drive into town. I hope they don’t because Miss Moreno would be devastated if her students ditched.
“Hey.” Someone plops down at the station on my right.
Glancing up, I find Ryder sitting there, a hesitant and guilty look on his face.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt.
His lips lifting in a small smile, he says, “Coach thinks this class will be beneficial to me, so here I am.”
“Beneficial?”
He dips his head. “Been dealing with personal stuff. You saw how much I sucked at practice yesterday.”
Yeah, he wasn’t at his best, but that happens sometimes. “It’s okay. You’ll do better next time.”
He pushes his stool closer, facing me. “Thanks, Carly. I’m really sorry I was a jerk to you on the bus ride home from thecompetition. I was trying to catch you all day to apologize, but it didn’t work out. I’m glad I have the chance now.”
I just stare at him, noticing the genuine regret in his eyes, and shake my head. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize.”
“But I do. I treated you like garbage. After apologizing and trying to fix our relationship, I messed it all up.”
I just continue watching him.
“I don’t want to go into what was bothering me,” he goes on. “It doesn’t matter because what I did isn’t excusable. I want us to be friends, if you’re okay with that.”
“Yeah, I’m okay with that.”
He smiles. “Cool. Thanks.”
As he talks more about how bad he feels, my head starts spinning. What could he be going through that Miss Moreno thinks art class will help? Why was he so upset the other day and so distracted yesterday at practice? I get that he doesn’t want to tell me, but I’m so curious.
Ryder must be able to somehow read my thoughts because he smiles unsurely, plowing his fingers through his hair. “It’s just family stuff, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
Now that he mentioned his family, it dawns on me that I don’t remember seeing his parents at the competition. Maybe they couldn’t make it? Did he perhaps get into an argument with them before we went on stage or something?
Smiling lazily, his eyes roam around the room. “It’s so cozy here. Feels like a place someone can get lost in.”
“That’s how I feel when I paint. And then the bell rings and I don’t want to leave. Sometimes Miss Moreno lets me stay an extra half hour. But of course I can’t do that now because of dance practice.”
“So you know how to paint and stuff?”
“I mean, I’ve been taking art since freshman year, so I know a thing or two.”
His eyebrows furrow and…does he look nervous? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ryder Bennett this nervous before, except by the dance competition. “So maybe you can teach me a thing or two?”
“Sure.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
