Page 46 of The Way We Are

“He hit her. I can’t ignore that.” My voice embraces the anger heating my blood.

“Yes, he slapped her,” Brax agrees, his voice a cross between frustrated and understanding. “But she still left with him, Ryan. No one forced her to walk to his car, slip inside, and leave with him. She did that of her own free will. She made her choice. Now, you need to respect it.”

“She didn’t pick Axel over me,” I argue, pretending my stomach swirling isn’t disagreeing with me; it's merely contesting the copious amounts of scotch I guzzled.

“She didn’t,” I repeat when neither Brax or Chris back up my claim, instead choosing to look at me with pity.

That pisses me off more than their assumption Savannah chose Axel over me. Axel only has one thing going for him—money—but Savannah also has that in abundance, so that can’t be the reason she's with him.

There's something more to this story than anyone knows, and I intend to find out what it is, no matter what the cost.

20

Ryan

Two weeks of ignored calls and texts.

Two weeks of pretending I don’t exist.

And two weeks of watching her with him when she should be with me equals two weeks of festering anger.

Two weeks of realizing money can buy love.

And two weeks to understand no one is who they say they are.

I thought Savannah could heal the fractures my parents’ volatile relationship caused to my heart, but all she did was break it further.

No more. I am done.

It’s time to let bygones be bygones.

It’s time to forget my past and move on to my future.

It’s time to give her up, once and for all.

21

Ryan

“Ryan!”

My trek across the dusty parking lot at the back of my school slows when the female voice shouts my name again.

With my desire to leave before Savannah arrives for cheerleading practice greater than my wish to know who is shouting my name, I continue for my truck, ignoring it.

It's been four weeks since Justine's eighteenth birthday party. For the first two weeks, I lived in denial, certain I knew the girl no one else saw. The last two weeks... let me just say, it hasn't been pretty.

I've always been known as a little standoffish, but I'm certain that title has changed to “downright asshole” the past two weeks. Even Brax and Chris don’t want to hang with me anymore. Can't say I blame them. Misery is best handled solo.

I’ve done a remarkable job avoiding Savannah the last two weeks, so you can be assured today's slip up is an accident. After an unexpected sleep in, I rocked up to school an hour after first period. I circled the block three times seeking a space. When I came up empty-handed, I gritted my teeth and pulled my truck into the parking lot bordering the track where Savannah's cheerleading practices are held, confident I'd be long gone before she arrived.

My plan was brilliant... until it was snagged by Ms. Forrester’s love of a lecture. She was worried about my grades, positive I’m not going to graduate with the test scores I received earlier this month. She offered offsite tutoring, not understanding my less-than-stellar performance had nothing to do with smarts and everything to do with a pretty blonde with dazzling green eyes.

I can ignore Savannah all I like during daylight hours, but I can’t control my thoughts when I am sleeping, and no matter how hard I try to forget her, she pops into my dreams every night. Every. Single. Night.

Even though Ms. Forrester is double my age and has a hairy top lip, I refused to look like a weasel with a broken heart any more than I already have the past four weeks, so I sucked up my excuses and accepted the study plan she assigned for the last weeks of school. If I stick to the plan as scheduled, she will let me re-take my final exams. Although I’m not expecting a scholarship to some fancy-schmancy school, decent grades may award me with more opportunities than just being a fast food cook.

“Ryan?!” the female shouts again, her voice revealing she's upset by my ignoring her.

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