Page 20 of The Best Parts of Him
What if he was right?
But more than that—what if Dabbs never saw him as anything other than a bully? Ryland wasn’t stupid; he’d taken what Dabbs had said and come to his own conclusion.
Thing the first: Dabbs had called his own father a bully.
Thing the second: This past spring, he’d told Ryland that he didn’t date people who were mean to his teammates.
Conclusion: Dabbs thought Ryland was a bully, and if his dad was as awful as he’d made it sound, he no doubt didn’t want another bully in his life.
But Ryland wasn’t a bully. Okay, yes, he’d been terrible to Bellamy, and although he’d never labeled the behavior, he could look back on it and admit that he’d had some major bully-ish tendencies where Bellamy was concerned.
That wasn’t who Ryland was, though. Not really.
How did he make Dabbs see that?
“Ry! Denver!”
Jason’s frantic shout had them scrambling onto their knees to find Jason racing toward them. That shout could’ve meant anything from There’s an emergency at home to You’re about to be eaten by Mabel.
Not that the Maplewood Monster was known for being carnivorous.
“Everything okay?” Denver asked him.
“Oh my god.” Jason slid to a stop a few feet from them and braced his hands on his knees. He heaved in a breath. “I thought you were dead.”
Ryland shared a look with his best friend. “You . . . what?”
“You were just lying there in the grass.” Jason sounded almost angry. “Not moving. I thought something had happened to you.”
“To . . . ” Ryland shared another look with Denver. “Both of us?”
“I don’t know, okay? It wasn’t rational. You weren’t moving, so my first thought was They must be dead. Jesus, I’m never going to recover from this.”
Ryland tried to hold in a laugh at the overreaction, but a snort escaped.
The panic left Jason’s face, and he rolled his eyes as he gave Ryland a shove. “Asshole.”
“Sorry,” Denver said, sounding genuinely contrite, a sharp contrast to Ryland’s hiccupping laughter.
Jason straightened with an air of dignified nonchalance. “Thank you, Denver.” He pointed a finger at Ryland. “You could take pointers from him.”
Ryland snorted. “He used to eat grass.”
He was shoved again, this time by Denver. “Fuck you. I was six. You were the one who thought it’d be a good idea to put a fake cockroach in the cookie jar.”
Ryland didn’t know whether to laugh or wince. “Not my brightest idea. I meant it as a prank, but my dad threw out the entire jar.”
“Yeah,” Jason said in a very duh-like tone. “Cockroaches carry and spread disease-causing pathogens, including bacteria like salmonella and E. coli, and they carry viruses like polio. They’re also known vectors for illnesses, and they can trigger asthma and allergic reactions in people who are susceptible. Of course Dad threw out the whole jar.”
“But . . . But my cockroach was fake,” Ryland protested.
“Dad didn’t know that. Not until it was too late. That’s what you get for a dumbass prank: no dessert. And speaking of food, Bellamy and I are heading to Red’s Restaurant for dinner. Want to join us?”
“Sure.” Denver hopped to his feet and ran a hand over his shaved head. “I could eat.”
“Me too,” Ryland said. “And I won’t even put a cockroach in it this time.”
chapter five
