by Melanie Dawn
I’d been so caught up talking to Chris and Gia that I hadn’t even noticed Zoe talking to anyone. I had seen a few familiar faces as we were sitting there. One particularly tall guy with blond hair had walked by, glancing at me with a smile. I smiled back, even though I couldn’t quite place him. I wondered if maybe she’d been talking to him. I peered in the direction of Zoe’s gaze, but the base of the tree was blocking my view.
“You don’t think Lucy will miss you?” I asked her.
Zoe nodded her head. “She might. But I think she will love helping that boy more.”
My sister had a heart of gold. She was wise, well beyond her years. I wondered who the sad boy was and if Lucy would indeed help him. There was just something about those entrancing eyes of a Beanie Boo that made everyone’s heart swell.
Chris lifted Zoe off the ground. “That was really sweet of you, baby. I’ll let you pick another Beanie Boo at the student store later. How does that sound?”
“Yay, Daddy!” she exclaimed, wrapping her little arms around his neck. A tired smile pasted on her lips as she rested her chin on his shoulder.
For a moment all was right with the world, and my four-year-old sister had once again restored my faith in humanity.
HOMESICKNESS KICKED IN once my family left that weekend. Gia kept me busy with parties and clubbing. No one could be depressed for long, being around her happy-go-lucky personality. But on one particular night, I just needed to escape the four walls of my dorm to somewhere that didn’t involve a party. I felt like the walls were closing in on me.
Gathering my textbook and notebooks on my desk, I planned to make the trek across campus to Vanderbilt Library where the scent of old books hung densely in the air. Maybe a change of scenery was exactly what I needed.
“Where are you going?” Gia called over the deep, thumping bass of her iPhone dock.
“I’m going to the library to study,” I announced, slinging the strap of my backpack over my shoulder.
Gia reached for her phone. “You don’t have to leave. I’ll turn the music down.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not that. I need to do some research anyway. I’ll probably be back late. What time does the library close?”
Gia twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “I think it closes at 2 a.m.”
Grabbing my cell phone off my desk, I said, “Okay. I’m sure I’ll be back by then. It’s gonna be a late night.”
“Be careful. It’s dark out there,” she cautioned, shifting her eyes nervously to glance out the window. “Here.” She tossed a canister of pepper spray at me. “Take this, just in case.”
I caught the pepper spray in mid-air. “Thanks,” I said, giving her a little wave as I slipped out the door. “See you later.”
“Text me if you need me,” she called just as I heard the door latch closed.
I headed toward Vanderbilt, dreading the long night of studying but looking forward to the solace. I should have taken a nap that afternoon, but I hadn’t. I knew I’d just have to suck it up and get through it. That’s what college was all about—learning how to live on very little sleep.
I SETTLED INTO my spot at a tiny table in the main section of the first floor at of the library. Pulling my books and my tablet from my backpack, I situated myself for a long night. My least favorite class was kicking my ass. Introduction to Statistics. Words like Probability, Correlation, and Causation were enough to give me panic attacks, but I opened my textbook and began taking notes from the chapter we’d been studying in class. Within minutes, I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickling. I glanced up, looking around, suddenly feeling very alone in this quiet library late at night.
It wasn’t until I caught the startlingly blue eyes staring at me a few tables away that I took a breath. Sighing with relief, I glanced back down at my textbook thankful that it was only Ryder and not some creepy lunatic… wait…
Okay… Ryder is not a creepy lunatic, I reminded myself. But in some ways, he was. I couldn’t deny the fact that his silence was still unnerving.
I tried to concentrate on the text, but those watchful eyes were boring holes into me like a carpenter bee on a two by four. I took another peek at Ryder. He was still watching me, not in the disturbing stalker kind of way, but more like a concerned citizen kind of way. I tilted one corner of my mouth into a half-grin, hoping he’d see that everything was okay.
He quickly ripped his gaze away from me and stared back at the textbook in front of him. I watched him curiously. He leaned his elbows on the table in front of him, holding his head in his hand as he tried to concentrate on what he was reading. His hair fell into his eyes, covering those breathtaking irises.
What are you hiding under all that hair, Ryder Hawkley?
Keeping his head down, he tugged at his earlobe and tried to ignore my inquisitive stare. Just then, he glanced back up again, his sharp, striking eyes caught my gaze again through the dark tendrils of hair that draped across his face.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away. We just sat there, watching each other, lost in the moment. His hard gaze softened as the icy stare turned into something different. Warm. Like a tropical lagoon.
I smiled, and I swear I saw a flash of a smile grace his lips too. My heart pounded in my chest. I don’t know why. It’s not like I was interested in him or anything. Intrigued maybe, but not attracted. I had Ian. That’s all I needed. Right?
Ripping away from his intense eyes, I tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Before long, I was neck deep in a formula that made no sense whatsoever. I tried my best to forget all about Ryder Hawkley and his unsettling eyes.
I stared blankly at the paper, trying to figure out how to solve the formula for correlation. Running my fingers through my hair, I tucked a stray strand behind my ear then rubbed my hand over the back of my neck. This stupid formula was like a foreign language to me. A whole lot of x’s and y’s and symbols that looked like some of the letters I saw on the houses on Fraternity Row. It made no sense. I’d paid attention in class, but I just didn’t understand it. I knew I wasn’t prepared for the test we’d have the next day.
Squinting my eyes as if it would help me, I tried to memorize the line of unfamiliar symbols and letters. Drawing a deep breath, I splayed my fingers out wide on the table to stretch then relax them again. The formula began to look like a jumbled up mess. I hate this shit! I fisted a handful of hair in my hand, glancing toward the ceiling. I swallowed hard, my throat dry as the desert. I would never understand this. Why did I take this stupid class? I laid my forehead on the table, nearly in tears. It was almost midnight and I was nowhere near figuring anything out.
My eyes felt heavy. A sudden need for sleep overwhelmed me. It was my body’s way of coping with the stress. Just a few minutes, I promised myself. Folding my arms, I laid my head in the crook of my elbow and gave in to the urge to disappear into dreamland for a little bit.
MINUTES TURNED INTO nearly an hour. I awoke with a jolt, jerking my head up and wiping the line of slobber that had made a little stream down my chin. Embarrassed, I glanced around the room, but no one seemed to notice me sitting there. That’s when I saw them—the venti-sized cup of Starbucks and the muffin sitting on top of a more simplified statistics study guide.
I glanced toward the table where Ryder was sitting earlier, but he was long gone. I wondered if the gifts came from him. They must have. I couldn’t help the warm rush of feelings that filled my chest as I clutched the warm cup of coffee in my hand.
I took a sip of the hot mocha. My favorite. Smiling, I remembered the hint of a grin he’d flashed me earlier. Ryder Hawkley, you’re an enigma.
BENEATH THOSE CARING blue eyes, I saw something in Alexis. Something that no other girl had ever given me—understanding. I felt it the moment she’d sat down beside me in the movie theater, never expecting anything from me in return. She wasn’t begging me to speak. She wasn’t asking me to feel. She just sat down beside me, so I wouldn’t have to be alone. Everything about
her felt like a breath of fresh air.
When I sat the coffee, muffin, and study guide on her table, I wished I could have done more. Deep down, I wished I could gently shake her shoulder and wake her up. I wished I could sit down next to her, side-by-side, while I helped her sort out the trouble she seemed to be having with her assignment. Her frustration was evident with the scowl on her face. I just wanted to take my hand and smooth out the crease in her eyebrows. I wanted to take my thumb and wipe away the frown of her lips. But I couldn’t. The coffee and study guide were the best I could offer. I hoped that was enough.
I wasn’t some psycho stalker, but I had the overwhelming urge to wait for her. She was alone on a dark campus at night. I just needed to make sure she got back to her dorm safely, so I waited around the corner from the exit of the library for her.
Alexis cautiously looked around as I ducked around the corner to avoid being seen. Drawing a ragged breath, she pulled a small item from her pocket. It looked like a can of pepper spray. I made a mental note to stay out of harm’s way. I didn’t need her to mistake me for a criminal. I wished I could walk up to her and warn her of the danger of walking alone on campus at night. But I couldn’t. The only use I was to her was to watch her from a distance.
She kept her head down, walking briskly on the cobbled, brick path toward her dorm. I maintained my distance, surveying the darkness around her. Every now and then she’d slow down and turn to look behind her as if she knew someone was following her, but I’d duck behind a tree before she’d see me.
I held my breath as she approached a stranger who was sitting alone on the brick retaining wall. She nervously glanced behind her as she slowed down. I quickly crouched down, pretending to tie my shoe, but still watching her out of the corner of my eye. She seemed to recognize the guy as she spoke to him. A few words were exchanged then she kept walking. I watched him watch her for a moment, then return his attention to the house across the street, where music was thumping and guys were hanging out on the front porch. He anxiously tapped his feet, rubbing his palms against his thighs and slightly rocking back and forth as if he were debating with himself. Something about him seemed a little odd, but considering Alexis wasn’t fazed, I brushed it off.
I didn’t want to scare her. That’s the last thing I wanted to do. I just knew I couldn’t live with myself if I’d let her walk home all alone and something happen to her. So, I continued to quietly follow behind her, ensuring her safety. Once she had swiped her card and entered her dorm, I knew she was going to be fine. I turned around to walk toward Haynes. My dorm was on the opposite side of campus, but I didn’t mind. I could sleep tonight knowing Alexis was safe and sound in her dorm, away from harm.
SOMETHING WAS VAGUELY familiar about the sandy blond haired guy sitting on the retaining wall. As I approached him, I immediately recognized the tan backpack lying beside him. He was the same guy who asked for directions to the SigUp house. I remembered having watched that backpack bounce on his back as he pedaled away on his bike that day. So it shouldn’t have surprised me that he was sitting across from it, watching all the guys hanging out on the front porch.
He flinched as I approached, jerking his gaze toward me.
“Hi,” I said. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He chuckled. “Oh, you didn’t scare me.” He glanced at his watch. I began to wonder if it was a nervous habit since that’s exactly what he did the last time I saw him.
I smiled at him. His wide, green eyes sparkled with recognition under the moonlight. “You’re the one who gave me directions to this place,” he reminded me.
I nodded. “I did.”
He smiled again, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Thanks for that. I’m Tim,” he introduced himself, extending a hand.
I took it, giving it a shake. “Alexis,” I replied, trying to squelch the strange feeling welling up inside me.
His firm grip and eerie gleam in his eye was unsettling. “Nice to meet you, Alexis.” The way my name rolled off his tongue made my stomach feel queasy.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” I waved him off, attempting to end our conversation and be on my way.
“See you,” he dismissed me with a nod.
I sped off toward my dorm, vowing never to walk that way at night again.
I DON’T KNOW why I couldn’t bring myself to throw that Starbucks cup away. I just couldn’t. There was something so significant about that tiny gesture that I just couldn’t bear the thought of tossing it in the trash like it meant nothing. I placed the empty cup on my desk next to the picture frame that held my favorite family photo. Taking a step back, I stared at the cup as if it would spill forth all of the secrets that Ryder held. What’s inside that head of yours, Ryder Hawkley?
The following morning, every time I’d walk past the empty Starbucks cup, I would be reminded of those eyes, watching me beneath that curtain of hair that swept across his forehead. Something about Ryder Hawkley fascinated me—a previously untapped depth I was curious to reach. I guess the genetic predisposition for psychology that I’d gotten from my mother kept me captivated by him.
Eventually, the questions lingering in my mind overcame me. So I sat down at my laptop, my fingers hovering over the keys. The cursor blinked expectantly at me.
Ryder Hawkley.
I typed his name into the search box, but before I hit enter, I debated with myself. Was I ready to find out the truth? Was it even my business?
Finally deciding that my need to know was more important than my readiness, I hit enter. Leaning toward the screen, I felt anxious to know what my search would find.
A long list of articles popped up. Hawkley Investments. Dan Hawkley. Stock Market Mogul. Inherited from his father, John Hawkley. Multi-million dollar assets. Company Thrives Despite Recession. Son, Ryder Hawkley, Institutionalized.
Hovering the mouse over the article about Ryder, I pressed my lips together. Even if his private business was plastered all over the internet, it still wasn’t my place to know. And yet, my need to fulfill my curiosity was strong. I felt somewhat guilty the moment I clicked on the link, and yet hopeful, knowing that I would finally understand Ryder’s plight.
A long article popped up on the screen. I quickly scanned the words. Ryder Hawkley responsible… Tragic accident… Three-year-old sister… Drowning… PTSD… Acute depression… Selective Mutism… Mental hospital.
The heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach was impossible to ignore. I slammed the laptop closed. Leaning on my elbows, I held my head in my hands staring at a blank space on the wall. Trying to process it all seemed impossible. My heart ached for Ryder… for all he’d been through… for all he was still putting himself through.
I reached for my phone. If anyone could help me understand, it would be my mom. My mom was like my best friend. I could tell her almost everything. Plus, she was a counselor. I knew she’d probably worked with guys like Ryder in the past. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. My mom was exactly whom I needed to help me try.
“Hey, Mom,” I said as she picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, honey. How are you?”
I pursed my lips. “I’m okay,” I told her, biting the inside of my cheek.
She didn’t hesitate. “What’s wrong?”
My mom always knew when something was wrong. I sighed, “I don’t know.” That was kind of the truth.
“What is it, honey? Did something happen? Are you all right?” she blasted me with questions.
“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just… there’s this guy… he’s in my class…”
“This guy?” she asked. “What happened to Ian?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s nothing like that. Ian and I are fine. This guy… he’s my Psych 10 partner. There’s just something about him. He… he doesn’t speak. Like ever. No one really talks about why. They just say how crazy he is. That he spent time in a mental hospital. They tell me I should stay away from him.”
“Doesn’t s
peak? What exactly do you mean?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I mean, I think he can speak. I think he just chooses not to.”
“Oh.” Her word was clipped, like she’d had a revelation. “Do you know what happened to him?”
“I do now; I just looked him up on the internet.”
“And?” she urged me to continue.
“He was babysitting his little sister when she drowned in their pool.” I choked the words out. Just thinking about Ryder going through that all alone made my throat grow thick with emotion.
“Oh my…” my mom’s voice trailed.
“I’m sure he blames himself.” Tears pricked my eyes again. One slipped out, and I wiped the tip of my nose as it slid down it. “I just don’t know how to help him, Mom. Tell me what to do.”
“The best thing you can do is just be.”
I sniffled, trying to decipher my mother’s Yoda-speak. “Be what?”
“Be there if he needs someone, and be supportive when he does. And just be patient. He’ll come around when the time is right.”
I nodded, glancing at the empty Starbucks cup still sitting on my desk.
My mother continued. “There are probably a lot of people in his life that are eager for him to speak again—his family, his therapist, his professors. He doesn’t need another person pushing him to talk. He needs you to hear what he has to say without the words. He needs someone to bridge the gap between his grief and his silence. Maybe that person is you.”
“Maybe…” I said, sounding unsure of myself.
“Look,” she said. “You are your mother’s daughter. You were born for this. This guy just needs someone to listen with her heart. If anyone has a big enough heart to listen, it’s you.”
I nodded again, remembering the lesson in Psych where we’d put tape over our mouths and were told to see past the silence. “Thanks, Mom.”