Ch. 7 – Things Are Never As Easy As They Seem
I remember little from that scene in the forest. It's not a case of amnesia, no. It's more because I simply don't want to remember... I can be very stubborn. What I do remember, however, is Ryan. The way he kept a hold on me as he made a call on his cell phone to the police station. The way, even though he was blanching himself, he kept asking me if I was all right. The way he held me against him until we made it to his car, as he had deemed me unfit for driving myself home.

"Not in this state, you're not," he said, his voice shaking slightly. I protested at first but then after having my mind flash me an image of that horrible scene, I decided he was right.

He opened the car door for me then let himself in on the other side. Neither of us spoke; I simply stared at the windshield wipers, which were beating a steady rhythm due to the sudden appearance of rain, in shock. There were simply no words to express what I was feeling, which was seemingly about twenty-four emotions at once.

I had calmed down; I was no longer sobbing hysterically into Ryan's shirt. Looking out of the side of my eye, I saw a wet mark where I'd done so. I squirmed down into my seat and fixated on the rain outside. Every time I saw a large dark shape I jumped slightly. Exactly how safe were we now, with a murderer on the loose?

Tomorrow the four of us had an interview at the police station. I was not looking forward to it, but if it meant I'd be rid of this stupid new fear I'd developed, I'd do it gladly.

He pulled into my driveway and surprised me when he turned his car off. I'd assumed he was going to drop me off and leave, but he followed me to my door.

As we stood on my front porch I scrambled for something to say. "Well... I, uh... thanks for the ride."

"No problem... you needed it. There's no way you could have driven home."

I didn't know what to say to that. Even though he was right, I would have felt foolish agreeing considering just fifteen minutes before I'd been protesting it vehemently.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. It tickled. "Yeah... fine. Just fine..." I trailed off and suddenly felt tears well up in my eyes. Not wanting him to see, I glanced down quickly, seemingly intent on studying my shoelaces. Although, then again, it wasn't like he hadn't seen me cry already... "No!" I said suddenly, and at that moment I succumbed to the first impulse I had and threw myself at him in a hug.

Now I'm not an impulsive person at all, so that was quite a move for me. Usually I'll need to sit and contemplate before even daring to make a move like that. I'll just go ahead and blame it on all the pent-up emotions of the night. Obviously there were quite a few.

He hugged back, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to his chest. We stood there, rocking slightly, for what felt like forever. I wanted him. I knew it.

I felt his hand smooth back my hair and I looked up into his vividly green eyes.

"Ryan..."

He moved his head closer, closer, closer still... time was standing still; my mind flashed me a feeble warning of the murderer still at large, with us simply standing on my front porch exposed, but there was no time for that thought, not now…

With a screech, the doorknob turned and the porch was flooded with light. Ryan and I jumped apart suddenly as if one or the other was covered in needles. My mother stood in the doorway, framed ominously by the lamplight behind her. Her eyes flicked toward Ryan with curiosity but then went back to me.

"Where on earth have you been? It's too late for me to run my errands now! Everything's closed!"

Ryan jumped to my rescue. "Mrs. Metzger, there was a, uh, situation after the fireworks. Someone was shot... we had to talk to the police--"

My mother looked at him with sudden fear. "I heard on the radio -- I wasn't really paying attention, I didn't even think that it occurred where you were... would you like to come in?"

"No, I should probably get home... thanks though." He looked at me then looked down, blushing.

"Um -- thanks for the ride," I said, even though I'd already said it just moments before. He nodded before taking off down the walkway toward his car, shuffling his feet slightly.

Hoping my mother didn't notice my flushing face and teary eyes, I mumbled that I needed some sleep and left her standing in the front hall, a very worried and confused look on her face.

After shutting my bedroom door and collapsing on my bed, my first thought was to call Jackie. We honestly hadn't any time to talk that evening, what with Brad, Ryan, and the scene in the forest.

Before I could roll out of bed and find my phone, the weight of the day dropped on me and I fell asleep.


I woke the next morning to a small but very insistent hand poking my shoulder.

"Rhianna! Rhianna!"

I muttered something about needing more sleep.

"Rhianna! You have to go to school!" the voice continued.

At that moment something in my mind clicked. It was Tuesday! Panicking, I sat up quickly and took a glance at my alarm clock, which read 7:25 am. With the pandemonium last night, I'd forgotten to set it for my usual time of 6:00.

"Are you getting up?" the voice enquired and I looked down at Peter.

"Yeah… thanks," I said.

He smiled and ran out of my room, clutching a toy. I smiled wryly, remembering the days when I'd been excited to go to school too.

I'd expected to feel that familiar sinking feeling in my stomach at the promise of another long day of trigonometric angles, the Bill of Rights, and "analyses of literature" (my English teacher's preferred way of saying "book reports"). But I felt something quite different: anticipation. Ryan would be there. I would see him in concert band; in fact he was quite visible from my seat in the saxophone section. Maybe we could talk about last night – yes, that's it, I thought. We'll talk about last night. It seemed so easy, yet I had no idea what I'd say.

I jumped out of bed and began pulling clothes out of my closet. So what if I was a bit late… at least I'd look good.

I was on the verge of laughing when I realized how scandalous I would have found that thought just a mere year ago. Things were changing.


That afternoon I walked into the band room, glancing around shyly. At first I didn't see Ryan, but then I noticed him in a section of the room, surrounded by his usual clarinet cronies (A/N: hahaha…). Approaching him while he was with others was the last thing on my mind. Disappointed, I got my saxophone out of my locker and took my seat in the band.

Ms. Havens had a new piece music passed out on everyone's stands. I glanced at it distractedly as I put a reed in my mouth and began taking my instrument out of my case.

A few moments later we were all called to our seats and Ryan took his in the first clarinets. I caught his eye and he flushed so deeply his stand partner gave him an odd look.

"You sick or something?"

Ryan shook his head. "No…" But he didn't elaborate, and his stand partner shrugged.

Band flew by and Ms. Havens dismissed us. I hastily put my instrument away and again glanced around, looking for Ryan. When I saw him about ten feet away, staring at the wall with his back to me, clarinet case in hand, I jumped slightly. For once he was alone, and I had my opportunity…

Seconds flew by, and I paused there, my mouth suddenly extremely dry…

As I made my move toward him the bell rang. Ryan walked out of the room and I was left standing there, dumbfounded.

I was officially the queen of bad coincidences.