Page 6 of Loathing Ryan
So, knowing all of that history, senior-year Ryan greeting me with a hello and an “I’ll see you later” was suspicious. Too suspicious.
I pondered what exactly he had brewing in his evil mind as Jules and I climbed the stairs of the dormitory. I always liked to claim our dorm room on the top floor so that we wouldn’t hear any other girls stomping overhead. And to my relief, we managed to snag a two-bedroom with a bathroom ensuite.
Juliet hummed as she plopped her massive Louis Vuitton suitcase on her bunk. She went straight to work on her routine to make our dorm more home-y. Pulling out two sets of printed sheets, she tossed one my way so we wouldn’t have to sleep on the gross mattress pads.
I stayed quiet as I pulled my clothes out of my suitcase, stuffing them right into the chest of drawers next to my bed. I had gotten into the habit of packing way more outfits than I needed. You never knew when some rotten boy from Bennett would push you into a lake, after all. There was no such thing as being “too careful” when it came to my experiences at Camp Wildwood.
We unpacked and lounged around for about an hour, decompressing from the bus ride over. Eventually, Juliet hopped up and said she wanted to do somereacquaintingwith Liam. I stayed right where I was, perfectly content with waiting until someone forced me to go elsewhere.
I reached over to my bedside table and grabbed the pamphlet outlining camp activities this year. I read it over, wrinkling my nose at my least favorite activities such as sand volleyball or the kickball tournament. Tomorrow was a free day, full of orientations and overviews. We would probably end up skipping that. Juliet was not a fan of just sitting around listening to the headmasters drone on and on about nothing. Tuesday, during the day, was the infamous capture-the-flag match. The entire senior class would be divided into two teams, and we would battle for dominance. Wednesday was the big kayaking trip. Thursday was?—
A knock at my door pulled me away from the pamphlet. I set it down just in time for Juliet to open the door and strut inside.
“Hey, ready to go check out the bonfire?” Jules asked me.
I looked down at my purple t-shirt and capris that still had dirt on them from being dragged through the gravel earlier. I had no intention of changing. I had no one to impress, but I couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious.
“Izabel, what in the hell are you wearing?” she asked, one of her eyebrows arching in accusation as she followed my self-appraisal.
I shrugged and looked down at my clothes again. “I didn’t really feel like changing.” Juliet stared at me for a second before she huffed and sashayed over to her side of the room.
“Jules, I brought my own clothes,” I protested as she began digging through the entire wardrobe she packed for the three-week camping trip.
“Well, clearly, I can’t trust you when it comes to dressing. I mean, honestly, Izabel,” she started as she held up a shirt in front of her before deciding against it and tossing it back down. “I keep saying this, hoping that you’ll actually hear me one of these days.”
I crossed my arms as I watched her veto one outfit after another. She hummed to herself as she sorted through her clothes. When she turned around to face me, she held up a white lace sundress. “This is the one.”
Grabbing the dress out of her hands, I decided arguing would be no use. Jules would not have taken no for an answer and would have gotten that dress on me one way or another. I didn’t feel like being pummeled to the ground by 130 pounds of pure blonde determination. I stalked into the bathroom, slid out of my comfy—granted, dingy—clothes, and shimmied into the lacy dress she gave me.
Once it was on, I spun in the big bathroom mirror, admiring how her clothes always fit me perfectly. The dress was pure white with cute, thick straps tied at the top. It curved into a sweetheart neckline and hugged my torso almost to the point of discomfort. It was very flattering. Much more so than anything I would choose to wear on any given day. But that was the difference between Jules and me. This was Juliet’s wheelhouse. She had a skill for finding the finest outfits and accessories, whereas I was perfectly content to continue to wear my favorite outfits over and over.
We complimented each other like peanut butter and jelly.
Giving one last turn in the mirror, I took a deep breath and prepared to show Juliet. She was sitting on the bed, facing the door with her hands clasped in front of her expectantly. When the door opened completely, her eyes went wide, and she stood up with a grin on her face.
“Yes! That’s perfect! I thought it would be.” She walked around me as if she was appraising me for the ball. “You look like a southern belle!”
I looked at Juliet’s outfit: cutoff white jean shorts, a midriff tank, and a jean jacket to keep her warm once the sun went down.
“I feel overdressed.” Before I even finished my sentence, Juliet shook her head.
“No, babes, you’re perfect. Trust me.” She grinned even wider. Turning away to grab her purse, she looked back at me and took my hand again. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I responded, resigned.
By the time we arrived, the bonfire was in full force, the blazes reaching high into the night sky. Seniors from both schools were scattered around, joking and catching up with each other. The sun was barely slipping below the trees, casting a warm glow over the grassy field next to the paddle-boat lake where the fire pit was. Staff had set up a vast snack table over to one side with every type of snack you could have wanted. Veggie sticks, cheese cubes, hotdogs, hamburgers. On the very far end was the s’mores table, which would be ravaged as the night wore on.
A few teachers walked around, ensuring no one got too close to the huge bonfire. Seeing our teachers dressed like normal people was always so strange.
Juliet grabbed us some drinks and then looked around. “I bet Liam ran off to find Ryan.”
I shuddered at the name. The last thing I needed was Ryan catching wind that I was dressed up like I had made an effort. He would come sniffing around like he always did and torture me to no end. Fancy clothes might have looked nice, but in reality, they served little protection. I could picture it now. It was my worst nightmare.
Once we got into the mix with our classmates, I didn’t feel quite so overdressed. I looked around and observed what all the other girls chose to wear. After all, tonight was the big night, likely the first time most of these girls got to see their boyfriends from Bennett since the winter formal. I spotted a few other sundresses, many cutoff tops, and different varieties of jean wear.
Juliet found Liam right away, sidling up and giving him a big kiss on his cheek. He smiled back at her and wrapped his arm around her waist. I looked around and relaxed when I spotted Ryan over by the drinks table on the other side of the bonfire. He was busy chatting with another one of my classmates. He leaned against the table with his arms crossed over his chest, listening to what she was saying with a slight smile.
Against my better judgment, I watched him. He didn’t look menacing when he was talking to her. It was always one of the biggest mysteries to me. Ryan was the King of Bennett, meaning he had to be a decent person, right? Something about him had to have attracted everyone enough to build that level of support. What was it about me that turned this Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde whenever we interacted?
