Page 20 of Loathing Ryan
The two of us made our way out into the river, trying to get caught up by the current so we could get moving. Ryan pushed us forward with his paddling. It was rough at first, trying to get used to the feel of the kayak and how each other paddled. But eventually, we got it figured out without any issues.
The river stretched out in front of us for about half a mile. It was calm water. After we had made it a decent way, Ryan stopped paddling and situated himself in his seat so he could relax a little. He had taken off the lifejacket we were supposed to wear at all times and placed it on his seat. Then he sat down and leaned back against it, using it like a pillow.
I grimly watched all of our classmates continue down the river. They all looked like they were having a great time. A few of them waved as they passed us. I wished I could shoot out a signal SOS flare to get rescued from this boat with Ryan, but I knew I was stuck with him for the day. I couldn’t wait until we made it back and we could go our separate ways for the evening.
After a while, he sighed. “This is the life.”
Murmuring an agreement, I reached down into the little bag I had brought to fish out my book. We would be out here for a few hours, and I wasn’t about to spend that time chit-chatting with Ryan. The headmasters could partner us together to prove whatever point they wanted, but it would be a cold day in hell before I was singing kumbaya with this guy.
“Only you, Bells. Only you would bring a paperback book onto a river,” he snickered, mostly to himself. “What are you even reading?”
I flipped back the cover so I could show him. “It’s an autobiography of Thomas Jefferson.”
“Yuck, that sounds boring,” he said, sitting up a little to look at the cover.
I shook my head. “It’s really not.” I paused and then looked over my shoulder at him. “But I like this kind of stuff. I read books like this all the time. They give you an insight into these people we hear about in history books. These stories make those people seem more real. They lived lives just like us, even though they were off doing world-changing things. It’s fascinating.”
Ryan watched me quietly as I talked about the book. “Okay, tell me something I don’t know.”
“About Thomas Jefferson?” I clarified, surprised that he would have any interest in this whatsoever. He nodded. “Well…” I trailed off, thinking back to what I had read so far about him. “Did you know Thomas Jefferson invented the swivel chair?”
Ryan laughed out loud. “What?”
I nodded, excitement blooming in my belly. I loved getting to talk about the things I learned from my books, even if it was with Ryan. “Yes! He invented the swivel chair. And it’s said that’s what he sat on when he wrote the Declaration of Independence!”
He shook his head. “That’s crazy. I never would have known that.”
I smiled, genuinely. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that I had never been this comfortable being in Ryan’s presence. “That’s why I like reading stuff like this.”
“Tell me something else, about anyone.”
“Abraham Lincoln is in the Wrestling Hall of Fame.” Ryan just looked at me, waiting for me to go on. “He wrestled in 300 matches and only lost one. So they put him in the hall of fame.”
Ryan laughed again. “I feel like my life is enriched now. Go back to your book, Bells. I won’t bother you anymore.”
Giving him another look over my shoulder, I studied him. He was being weird again, just like he was yesterday after capture-the-flag. I still had no idea what it was, but something about him was different this year. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
I decided not to dwell on it too much, not wanting to give myself a headache pondering over Ryan Miller. Instead, I got lost in a few chapters of my book, reading about Thomas Jefferson. The day was quickly warming up, the sun beating down on us and reflecting against the surface of the water.
When I got too hot, I pulled off my lifejacket and threw my leg over the edge of the kayak, sticking my toes in the water. I watched the edges of the river go past us as we floated. I was lost in myself until I felt something touch my shoulders. I whipped around to find Ryan’s fingers tracing the sensitive skin there by the straps of my bathing suit.
“What are you doing?” I asked, breathless from the startle.
His green eyes fluttered up to mine as a sheepish expression crossed his face. “Your shoulders are getting red.”
When I looked down, sure enough, the hot sun was leaving a mark on my pink shoulders. “Shoot.” I reached down to go through my bag and groaned. “I forgot my sunscreen. I knew I should have brought my shirt.”
Our kayak rocked back and forth. When I looked behind me, Ryan had pulled off his light gray shirt and was now holding it out for me to take.
“I can’t take that. You’ll get sunburned,” I protested.
“I’ll be fine, Bells. I’ve already got a base tan, see?” He pointed to his chest and held out the shirt again.
I tried not to stare at him because, shit, Ryan was ripped. The sinewy muscles of his broad shoulders tapered down into firm pectorals. I let my eyes linger for just a second, glancing down at his abdomen and then shooting back up to his face. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course, he had full-on abs. I knew he was a soccer player and did well on the team.
Gingerly, feeling embarrassed at the knowledge that I just checked Ryan out, I reached over and grabbed his gray shirt. It had the word ARMY in black letters on the front of it.
“Thanks,” I mumbled quietly as I pulled the shirt over my head, instantly feeling a bit of relief from the sun. When I didn’t get a snarky response, I turned around again. Ryan was sitting there, his green eyes wide, not saying a thing.
