Chapter 8 - Would you be happier if I smacked your girlfriend with a bat instead?

I stand there, mouth open with shock, as the newspaper slowly slides down from my face and falls on the floor.

My shocked eyes meet that of an equally shocked woman. She looks she's in her early fifties or late forties. Her hair is tied in a messy bun and she's wearing an apron around her waist.

"Mom! Did you seriously just smack Allie with a newspaper?" Ryder asks bewildered as he kicks the door closed.

Ryder's mom grins at me sheepishly, "Oops?"

Ryder sighs exasperated and shakes his head at me, "Are you okay?"

I nod not being able to comprehend words.

Getting smacked with a newspaper by your crush's mother. Every girl's dream, right?

Ryder sighs and takes Pixie from my arms, "Here, give her to me. And mom, help Allie to find some clothes."

"Is that a cat?" she squeals as she goes to hold her.

Ryder swats her hand away, "Get Allie some clothes first. And what the hell were you thinking mom?" Ryder sighs as he picks up the newspaper with one hand.

Ryder's mom rolls her eyes, "Well I'm sorry I thought you were an intruder and was just trying to protect our home."

Ryder rolls his eyes, "Obviously there will be intruders if you don't lock the door. And again who even smacks an intruder with a newspaper?"

She rolls her eyes, "What? Would you be happier if I smacked your girlfriend with a bat instead?"

I blush, "I-I'm not-"

"She's not my girlfriend."

Ryder's curt reply cuts me off. He doesn't even glance at me as he tells his mother that he's going to do something about Pixie and will catch us later. Then without even a single word or look at me, he storms into a room and slams the door shut.

Ouch.

Trying to shrug off my feelings, I follow Ryder's mom to a room opposite of the one Ryder shut himself in.

It's only a crush Lisa. It's fine. It obviously doesn't matter that he seemed so pissed of when she thought of me as his girlfriend. It completely doesn't matter that he couldn't even be a little sensitive and just brush it off saying 'No, we're just friends.' And it absolutely doesn't matter that he stormed off looking angry as hell.

But it does.

It fucking matters.

"How about this one dear?" Mrs. Woods asks me as she shows me one off her dresses. It's a cream coloured blouse and a short skirt. The blouse I can handle but the skirt looks like it came directly out of an 80's movie.

"It's one of my most favourite dresses. I loved wearing this when I was in high school!" She sighs wistfully.

High school, huh? Figures.

I try not to show my apprehensions on my face, "Um..yeah, sure. Any thing's fine really, Mrs. Woods. And I'm again really sorry for barging in your home unannounced."

She smiles kindly at me and hands me the dress, "It's fine dear. Besides I'm happy Ryder brought a friend home. That kid's...how should I say this...?"

"Grumpy?" I offer. Though I had many, many colourful words reserved for him in my current state of mind, I choose to censor them for Mrs. Woods sake.

She chuckles, "Well, that's one way to put it. He's never really been a social butterfly and after..." she suddenly stops and looks at me, "Oh! How silly of me! You're shivering and I'm blabbering on without a common sense. Change, dear. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

Throwing me another kind smile over her shoulder, she walks out of the door. I close it behind her and sigh.

The blouse is a little too tight around my chest and but other than that it's fine. After trying to untangle the knots in my damp hair with only my fingers, I give up and go to find Mrs. Woods to thank her for the clothes.

I walk down the corridor, pausing before Ryder's door and contemplating if I should knock or not.

But then I remember his behaviour and huff once before walking away.

I know that he had a one hundred percent right to react like that. Just because I have a crush on him doesn't mean he has to have a crush on me. I stop in front of a mirror which is hung in the hallway and look at myself.

Round face, round nose, rusty brown hair that now looks even more weird wet and dull brown eyes stare at me. Thick hands and waist remind that I'm no runaway model like my best friends. And me looking down upon myself like this remind me that I'm no confident Lara Croft like Leah either.

Obviously he was angry at me being called his girlfriend. Anyone would be.

I shake these thoughts away.

Shut up, Lisa! You're not one of those insecure girls in the stories! You hate them remember?

But I hate them because they can't see how lucky they are and always feel sorry for themselves. And now as I look my reflection in the mirror, I realise it's not that I don't see how I really look. It's just a fact that guys like Ryder will never think twice, at least not in a romantic interest, about girls like me.

The delicious smell of pancakes interrupt my thoughts and I sigh wistfully. Forgetting all off my previous depressing thoughts, I all but fly in the direction of the smell.

Mrs. Woods is standing before the kitchen counter humming a tune to herself. Two plates full of pancakes are stacked on the table before her. Hearing me come, she looks up and smiles, "Come on in dear. You must be hungry, take a seat."

My stomach rumbles in answer but I feel the need to decline, "I'm really grateful for your hospitality Mrs. Woods-"

"Oh enough with the Mrs. Woods!" She cuts me off, "It makes me feel like an old woman. Call me Carla."

I chuckle, "Okay Carla. As I was saying I'm really thankful but I really should be going now. My parents will be worried that I'm so late."

Lie. My mom won't be finishing her shift in the hospital till 10 on and my dad is in California for a business meeting.

You just don't want to face Ryder do you?

Shut up.

"Oh nonsense!" Carla shushes me, "I didn't make all of these pancakes only to throw them in the trash."

Before I could protest she gives me a glare, "Don't even think about saying how nice I've been. Anyone would have done this. Please dear, won't you listen to the request of one old little woman?"

Glancing at the pancakes one last time, I didn't need much convincing. I sigh and smile at her, "Tell me, where in the world to you get those manipulative skills?"

She chuckles and motions towards the pancakes, "Help yourself."

I slowly make my way towards the table, taking in my surroundings. The house may be small but in no way is it dirty or uncomfortable. Every spot is cleaned neatly. The walls are a dark brown colour with a cream coloured ceiling. The corridors are the same. The wall beside me is adorned with family portraits. I absent mindedly go to stand before them.

In one picture, a young Carla is standing with a man whom I assume is Ryder's dad. His arm is draped around her waist and they're both grinning widely. Their smile is so real and contagious that even I cannot help but let out a small smile.

I'm so engrossed in admiring the photos that I almost don't notice Carla as she materializes beside me.

"That picture was taken a few years after we were married. Ah, every time I see this I become so jealous of the past me it's insane."

In the next one, Carla is standing with Ryder. His arm is over her shoulder and they're both smiling at the camera.

"This one was taken a few months ago. I thought teenagers like you would hate to take pictures with their old guys. But Ryder's such a good kid that he didn't even frown once."

I smile, "That's because he loves you very much."

She chuckles, "Should I say the same about you?"

I cough, "W-what? I-I don't understand!"

"Too soon?" She smirks.

"Too impossible," I say trying to hide my blush.

My eyes drift towards the next picture. Two boys who are probably around the age of 15 to 16 are sticking their tongue at the camera. One of them is posing like superman.

A wave of shock passes me as I recognise the guy as Ryder.

So carefree. So...so happy.

"That one was taken in his freshman year."

I grown in confusion at the second boy, "Who's he?"

"Aaron. Ryder's older brother."

Something in her voice makes me compel to look at her. She's not looking at me though. She's staring at the picture with a faraway look in her eyes.

My jaw falls open in surprise.

He had a older brother? I thought he was an only child.

That just proves how less I know about him.

Before I can ask anything else she turns away, "The food is getting cold dear. Will you please get Ryder while I set up the table?"

There lies an unasked question in the air.

Will you please give me a moment alone?

I don't know why she needed a moment but I don't probe further. I have a feeling its something I shouldn't ask.

I've always been good at reading people.

Instead I nod, "Yeah, sure."

I trudge towards Ryder's room contemplating how I should behave. I mean we're friends right? I won't let some puny little crush destroy our friendship. Specially since Carla indicated that he didn't have many friends.

I didn't have many friends like him either.

I hesitantly knock on the door, "Um...Ryder?"

"Come in."

I turn the knob and step in, "Your mom sent me to tell you-"

I stop as take in the heavenly sight. Every ounce of breath gets knocked out of me as my jaw falls down on the floor.

Ryder is standing with his back turned to me while rubbing a towel on his head. But that's not what gets me breathless. Its that he's wearing nothing but a jeans which means his whole upper body is open for sight seeing.

And my oh my is it a sight to see.

You know those burly guys in WWF? The guys than stun you?

But not in a good way?

Yeah, but Ryder is nothing like that.

Don't get me wrong. He has some delicious abs. But they aren't so much that you'd mistake him for The Thing nor are they so less as if to resemble a skeleton.

Strong muscles adorn his back, his arms and no doubt his chest too which unfortunately isn't in my view. His arms flex as he rubs a towel on his hair. Few droplets of water are glistening on his back as if beckoning me to come and lick them off.

WHAT?

I'm turning into such a pervert!

As if you weren't a pervert before.

"Yeah?" Ryder calls out turning to face me.

Holy mother of all the little things I can't seem to remember.

A chiseled chest stares at me. His dark hair which undoubtedly is wet because he took a shower covers the upper part of his forehead. And his eyes.

Oh God his eyes.

"Allie?"

Fuck it's that name again.

"Allie?" He asks me confused.

"Y-yeah?" With a hulk like strength I tear my eyes away from his chest, "Huh?"

He smirks, "Were you just checking me out?"

I gulp, "W-what? Check you out? Who? Me? Ha! Fat chance!"

I try to focus my eyes on anywhere but him.

He chuckles, "Yeah right. You resemble a ripe tomato right now, you know."

Damn you pale skin.

I scoff, "That's bullshit."

He cocks an eyebrow, "Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Anyway, what were you saying?"

"What?" I tear my eyes which again drifted towards his chest (Traitors!) And look at him, "Oh right. Your pancakes told me to tell your mom you'll get cold if I don't eat you."

He blinks at me, "What?"

What?

What the HELL did you just say?

I gape at him not knowing what to do. Too afraid to say anything in case my stupid mouth blurts out something even more stupid.

Which I doubt is possible.

"Pancakes. Carla. Eat."

Before he can say anything else, I turn and run out of the room like it's on fire. All the while cursing my stupid mouth and stupid fate.

But not before I heard a mumble which suspiciously sounded like
'She so was drooling on me'

Someone kill me.

Please.

A/N

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-Z