Page 94 of Home Game

“Did Bianca give you a hard time?” Ryan studied me while we sat at a light.

“What? No.”

“You seem quiet.”

I didn’t want to say goodbye to Ryan.He was the first real friend I had made in a long time and I didn’t want to let that go. Not yet.

“I’m good,” I forced a smile past my tight lips.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

I wanted to.So bad. But nothing good could come out of mixing my old world with my newtemporaryworld. “Yeah.”

The last thing I needed was Ryan asking too many questions. Ifocused to hide my anxiety. Ryan and I wandered up Alberni Street before he steered me into Tiffany’s. It had guards in suits at the door, and the clerks did the eyeball thing on me before focusing their attention on Ryan.

“Come help me pick out some earrings.” He dragged me to the counter.

I almost threw up when I saw the prices. The cheapest pair I could see was $375, and they ranged up to $50,000. The most expensive looking earrings didn’t even have price tags.

“We should get out of here,” I spoke beneath my breath.

“Why?” Ryan whispered back.

I ducked my head closer to him. So close, I could smell his fresh scent. “You could buy a car for the price of some of these earrings.”

“I bought my mom a car for her birthday last year.”

“That figures.”

“Are you going to help me pick something out?”

I spent the next ten minutes roaming up and down the glass counter, carefully studying every pair.

“I don’t know,” I finally admitted defeat. I really wanted to help, but I was out of my depth here.

“What would you pick if they were for you?”

“I love the starfish earrings,” I said without hesitation. “But I don’t know if your mom would like them.” Not to mention they were $475.

“She might be a more classic jewelry person, but I like your choice too.”

He ended up buying a pair of diamond stud earrings that set him back $6,000.

“Ready to go?”

We walked up the street. I loved spending time with Ryan. The sun seemed to shine brighter when he was around.

“When’s your mom’s birthday?”

“In a few weeks,” he pulled me into a bakery that smelled like heaven. “When’s your birthday?”

In a week. “Not for a while.”

“What’s the date?”

“Why?” I stared down at the pastries.

“Curious.”

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