Page 111 of Ryan
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Chris
There must be something wrong with me. Something seriously wrong. What am I doing? Why have I been sitting in my car for half an hour, just to…what? Wait for him to walk past? Or wait for an epiphany, maybe?
What was I thinking, coming here? Driving around the neighbourhood, peering through windows – what was I hoping to find? Was he just going to magically appear from nowhere?
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.I repeat it over and over, smacking my head against the steering wheel.
I’ve had a busy day. Work was hectic. Between colleagues, customers, phone calls from my parents, questions from Evan, and Martin’s constant messages to check how I am, my head has been all over the place.
I closed up in a rush, without even clearing the café up properly, then found myself here, in Northwood, for no apparent reason.
Actually, yes. There is a reason. A dangerous reason. A reason called Ryan O’Connor.
I know that he lives around here, but there are so many houses and buildings that it’d be impossible to find him. What can I do? Check every name on every letter box? Then what happens if I find his house? Do I knock on the door, tell him…what?
I smack my head against the steering wheel again, waiting for logic to return, when I hear someone knocking on the window.
I snap my head up in a panic, to see Nick’s smug face. I lower the window a little and grimace at him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, looking around. “Are you lost?”
“Me? No…I was just looking…I have a friend who lives around here, and I’ve forgotten the house number and…”
Jesus, I’m a bad liar.
Nick nods, a smile still plastered over his face. I think he knows exactly why I’m here.
I’m such a mess.
He walks around to the other side and opens the passenger door, sitting down next to me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, worried.
“Come on, I’ll show you the building.”
“W-what building?”
He looks at me condescendingly.
“You’re in the wrong street. This is where I live. See? Right there, in that building, Temple Court. He lives in the new buildings, down there – they called it Parklands. It’s still in Northwood, but on the other side of the main road.”
“H-he?” I stammer again.
“I don’t exactly think you’re here looking for me.”
I go violently red.
“Come on. Start the engine up and take the first right.”
I do what he says and pull into the road. Nick gives me directions and I follow them – but I’m not brave enough to look at him.
“Here we are. Block three. It’s apartment 108, on the third floor.”
I turn and look at him, in a daze.
“The code to get in is 1771. It’d be best if you go right to the front door and surprise him.”
