Page 5 of Loathing Ryan
I nearly choked, and Juliet’s glare hardened. “Don’t be an ass, Ryan.”
“What, I can’t tell little Bells here that she looks good? ’Cause she does. I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful in my life.” My breath stopped at his words and my eyes widened as they snapped to him. Ryan’s never said anything like that to me before. As if he could tell that his words threw me slightly, Ryan quirked a taunting brow and continued, “I mean, wow, is that chocolate on your cheek? It matches your hair.”
Any surprise or lingering hope that Ryan might have been taking a nicer approach this year was squashed and replaced by my usual annoyance.
“It’sIzabel,” I muttered as I wiped my cheek aggressively. It came back clean because, of course, it did. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast that morning. And it definitely didn’t have chocolate in it.
“Enough, Ryan,” Juliet growled. “Liam, make him go.” She turned to her boyfriend, giving him a pleading look.
He sighed and untangled his hand from hers. “Come on, man. Let’s go get our stuff settled.”
Liam walked over to Ryan and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him off. Before they walked away, Ryan glanced over his shoulder and shot me a blinding smile and a wink. “Think of me while I’m gone, Bells. I’ll catch ya later.”
I was sure he would.
I sighed and looked to Juliet. She glowered after the two with her arms crossed and her hip cocked to the side. Shaking her head, she gave me a sideways grin when she felt me watching her.
“I think Liam had the right idea. Let’s grab our stuff so we can claim the best room.” She waggled her eyebrows before striding behind the bus to get her bags.
I followed, grumbling under my breath. I just had to stick it out for a little longer. After these few weeks, I would never have to step foot in Hawthorne Academy or Camp Wildwood again.
Each school had set up its own dormitories on the campgrounds. There were two large buildings assigned to both. The two girls’ dorms were on the east side of the camp, and the boys’ were on the west side. If we were lucky, we would be able to snag one of the bigger rooms with an ensuite bathroom.
Once Juliet and I had grabbed our bags full of necessities, we took off toward the east-side dorms. For a few minutes, the only sound was our feet crunching on the white gravel rocks below us.
Finally, Jules was brave enough to break the silence. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I scowled at her reference to my first encounter with Ryan of the summer.
Though I may never admit it out loud, she was right. This year, the first face-to-face moment hadn’t been so bad in comparison to past years. Only a handful of times was Ryan there to meet me right when I got off the bus. Over our many encounters, Ryan’s greetings ranged from mere annoyances to antics that made me want to mar that pretty face of his–preferably in a permanent manner.
The summer of our sophomore year, the year after the fateful spaghetti incident, Ryan made sure to meet me at the bus, almost as if he wanted to be the very first person I saw. He stood right by the doors and would comment as each of the Hawthorne girls stepped off.“No. Nope. Nuh-uh. Well, hello there. Not who I’m looking for now, but I’ll definitely be looking for you later. Nope. Next.”Like he was labeling them in Duck, Duck, Goose.
I could see him from my position on the bus, waiting for me to appear. The temptation to run out the back door, even though I’d set off the alarm, was overwhelming. When it was my turn to hop off the bus, I stopped at the top step and made eye contact with the boy. His green eyes lit up when he met my blue, and a sly grin crept onto his lips. With a deep sigh, I stepped down and stood right in front of him.
He reached up his hand to my head and said,“And Bingo was her name-o,”then dropped his palm flat onto the top of my head. I felt a crunch, and slowly, raw egg slipped down my face. That one had gotten him an amusing admonishment from a counselor, and a punishment of chopping wood for the bonfire later that night.
Last year, Ryan found me standing on the sidelines of the ‘Welcome to Camp’ bonfire, as I often did. Juliet was talking it up with some of her friends from Bennett, probably about the soccer playoffs that had happened just a few weeks prior. I had chosen to stay out of sight of the Bennett Boys as best I could, but of course, the one I most wanted to avoid had zeroed in on me within the crowd. It was like he had a homing device that was programmed just for me.
He sauntered over to me with one hand in his pocket and one carrying a red solo cup. “Bells, I thought I’d find you over here alone, away from all the fun.” I could hear the delight in his voice.
“What do you want, Ryan?” I shot back, wanting to get the prank I knew was coming over and done with so I could get on with my night.
“I brought you a drink. I thought you looked thirsty.” He held it out as if it was a peace offering.
Sighing, I grabbed the cup, knowing he wouldn’t leave until I took it. “What’s in it this time? Worms? Rotten milk?” I spun the cup around, watching as the liquid sloshed. I didn’t see any solids or clumps of anything wriggling, though. The surface looked normal, too, showing no signs of a film layered on top, but I was still on edge.
“No, just punch.”
I turned my glare toward Ryan. “What’s the catch?”
He shrugged as he met my gaze head-on. “No catch. Welcome back to camp, Bells.”
“It’s Izabel,” I corrected, a bite in my tone. Ryan snickered and turned away, leaving me alone for the rest of the night.
Staring down into the cup, I decided I didn’t trust it to risk drinking. Once he was far enough away, I turned and dumped the contents out. When it hit the ground, I bent over to examine it further in the grass. I didn’t see anything suspicious. Maybe Ryan had really just brought me some punch. But no, that would have been absurd.
I was very preoccupied with the beverage, so I didn’t hear Ryan turn back and beeline straight to where I was crouched. He made contact with me, taking me completely off guard, and we flew into the cold lake. I sputtered as I fought my way back to the surface, trying to calm the rising panic inside of me. My eyes caught Ryan, also treading water in the freezing lake, laughing his ass off.
“I hate you so much,” I muttered as I struggled to the bank and crawled out, dripping wet. I ran back to the dorms, trying my best to ignore all the catcalls and shouts at my expense from the wet clothes sticking to my skin.
