Mr. Santos turned his attention to my paper and he scanned the page. “Interesting,” he murmured, and I cringed. His smile didn’t falter as he stepped closer to my desk.
I wetted my lower lip nervously and forced the words floating in my head to reach my tongue. “I...I am not...very good at writing speeches.” I paused, taking a deep breath. “Or at...giving them.”
There! I spoke to Mr. Santos all on my own, without anyone speaking on my behalf. I sat a little straighter.
“Public speaking is much like art. Being good at it is very subjective, Mallory.”
Pressing my lips together, I lifted my gaze to him, having no idea where he was going with this.
“But it’s all about trying.” Santos nodded at my paper, and suddenly I wondered if he was talking about my mad dash out of the classroom the first week of school and the subsequent call with Carl and Rosa. I hadn’t tried then. “It’s not about getting it right the first time and it’s most definitely not about perfection, but if you try, you succeed. Just like you would in art. Or in life, for that matter.” He then patted my shoulder. “And by the looks of it, you’re trying.”
I blinked slowly.
Santos roamed off, back to the front of the class.
“What in the actual hell,” murmured Paige.
I looked over at Rider, and his grin was slow, but the dimple in his right cheek appeared. “Deep thoughts,” he murmured.
My nod was just as slow. “How...did you not just get in trouble?”
“I’m gifted.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “And how...does he know about your artwork?”
Hector snorted as he looked up from his paper, responding before Rider could. “Because when Rider was a sophomore, he decided to do some exterior decorating on the outside of Lands High.”
Rider rolled his eyes.
“He tagged the entrance and got busted the next day, because the dumbass wore the same shirt he’d done the tagging in,” Paige jumped in, her lips curled up in a smirk as her gaze met mine. Something in her stare told me she was happy to point out that she knew all about this, and I didn’t. “Mr. Santos was probably the only staff member that appreciated it.”
My gaze swung back to Rider. His cheeks were a deeper pink again. “I didn’t get in too much trouble,” he said, not looking at me. “It was a misdemeanor. Had to help clean it off, which sucked.”
“A misdemeanor?” I stared at him. “How is that not trouble?”
Hector laughed, turning back to his notebook. “Misdemeanor isn’t a charge you catch that you really got to worry about.”
I did not understand that at all.
A moment passed and Rider’s gaze slid toward me. His grin was sheepish. “Okay. I was in trouble, but no big deal. Santos actually went to bat for me, so I didn’t have to actually find a way to pay for the damages. That’s why I had to clean it up.”
“I bet you don’t know that Santos had one of Rider’s sketches placed in a gallery in the city, do you?” Hector asked. “That was the part about Santos going to bat for him. Told him he needed to produce something that could be on display. You know, not on the side of a wall.”
My mouth dropped open for the second time. “What?”
“Cállate, bro.” Rider leaned forward, glaring at Hector. “Seriously.”
Hector tipped his head back and laughed.
“Where?” I asked.
A sigh rattled out of Paige. “It’s not a big deal. It was just graffiti on a canvas.”
“That is still a big deal,” I stated. No pauses there.
She rolled her eyes.
Rider shook his head as he focused on his sketch. “It doesn’t matter.”
I thought it did. “That sounds amazing.”
Something in my tone drew his gaze to mine, and another long moment passed before he responded. “It’s down at City Arts. Or it was. No idea if it’s still up.”
I wanted to see it if it was, because that was... That was extraordinary.
So much of Rider was the same from before. The kindness, that unshakable protective instinct. But there was so much I didn’t know about this older, newer Rider.
Shaking my head, I looked back at my speech without seeing the words. I thought about what Santos said. It made sense. Life was like doing this speech. It wasn’t necessarily about the end result, but more about trying.
I could...I could get behind that.
* * *
As class ended, Hector announced, “I’m hungry.”
“Okay,” Rider responded as I shoved my notebook into my bag. “What exactly do you want me to do about it?”
Hector grinned as he glanced over at me and winked. “I want you to take me out and feed me.”
Rider snorted.
“We can hit up Firehouse. I’m in the mood for their fries and fried hamburgers.”
Standing, Rider lifted his arms and stretched. His shirt rode up, baring a sliver of his stomach. My gaze dropped and focused in. His lower stomach was unbelievably taut. Defined.
Nice.
Very nice.
Cheeks flushing, I looked away and caught Hector’s knowing gaze. Crap. I needed to be better about checking out guys. Like incognito style. I didn’t even look in Paige’s direction to see if she caught me.
“You should come with us,” Hector suggested.
I blinked. Was he talking to me?
He was. Because Rider lowered his arms and glanced over to where I was, which was still sitting in my chair. “You want to grab something to eat?”
“Of course she does,” Hector replied. “She wouldn’t turn down our company. Who would?”
Goodness, he and Jayden were very much alike.
Rider’s grin was lazy. “So, what do you think?”
My mind raced over the possibilities. Besides Ainsley and my family, I’d never gone out and grabbed food with anyone else. I most definitely had never gone out to eat with one guy, let alone two. Carl and Rosa would probably flip.
Okay. They would absolutely flip.
But I wanted to.
Heart thumping in my chest, I felt myself nod.
Rider’s grin spread and the dimple in his right cheek blessed the world once more. “Perfect. You want to ride with us?” he asked. “Since we know where we’re going?”
“Works for me,” Hector replied. “I can drop you back off at the school later.”
That made sense, so I nodded again.
“Good.” Rider paused, his smile reaching his eyes. “But there’s just one thing you’re going to have to do first.”
My brows rose.
“You’re going to have to get up.”
I got up.
Paige spoke as she rose from her own seat. “I can’t go with you. You know I have to watch Penny on Mondays.”
“Hell.” Rider scrubbed his fingers through his hair as I wondered who Penny was. “Want me to pick you and your sister up something to eat? I can swing it by afterward?”
Her head cocked to the side. “Are you serious? You’re going anyway?”
Oh no.
I stepped back, slinging my bag over my shoulder. This was not going to end well. Not at all.
Rider faced his girlfriend as he spoke to us. “I’ll meet you guys outside, okay?”
“Sure,” murmured Hector, and when I didn’t move, he gently cupped my elbow. “Let’s go.”
I let Hector guide me out of the classroom. We didn’t speak, not the whole way outside. I wanted to talk about what had just happened, but as usual, I said nothing as we neared the parking lot. It wasn’t hard. I could talk. I’d talked in front of him before. I could do it now. It was easy.
Clenching my hands, I focused on the backs of the people in front of us—and pretended I was talking to Carl or Rosa. Or even Rider. The words came unstuck, slowly. Sort of painfully. “Maybe...I shouldn’t go.”
There.
I said it.
Thank Jesus.
And baby animals everywhe
re.
If my speaking surprised him, he didn’t show it. “There is no reason for you not to.”
Stopping by his Escort, I looked up at him. Tiny balls of nervous energy filled my stomach. Standing out here talking to him was not easy, no matter what lies I’d just told myself. “I...can think...of one big reason...why.”
A small grin appeared as he walked to the rear of the car and tossed his book bag into the back. “Paige?”
I nodded.
He chuckled, and I didn’t think it was very funny. Coming back to where I stood, he leaned against the driver’s door. A moment passed. “I don’t think Rider knows what he’s doing. I don’t think he ever knows what he’s doing.”
I frowned. “What...does that mean?”
Hector studied me for a moment, and this time he laughed under his breath. “Just thinking out loud.” He paused as he scratched at his chin. “You know, by this point in any other school year, Rider would’ve been in in-school suspension at least twice. Hasn’t gotten it once so far this year.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but I was glad it appeared to be in the past.
“He also used to be out tagging every night he didn’t work,” he continued, eyeing the pathway Rider would be coming up. “He didn’t really spend that much free time with Paige, you get me?”
I totally did not get him.
“He’s respectful of my abuelita, don’t get me wrong, but Rider always has been...”
“Has been...what?” I asked, brushing a strand of wind-blown hair out of my face.
His moss-green gaze drifted to where I stood. “He’s always been here but not.”
I knew what that meant.
My chest clenched as I looked down at the oil-stained asphalt. Here but not. Existing but not living. I knew that feeling. Lived it for several years. Some days it felt like I was still wearing that feeling like a heavy jacket buttoned up too tightly. I didn’t know Rider felt the same, or that others had noticed that about him.
And that... Well, that made me sad.
“Here he comes.” Hector pushed away from the car.
Looking up, I saw Rider jogging along the pathway. He slowed as he reached our car. Paige wasn’t with him. I searched his face for some clue of what happened as Hector got into the car. His jaw was a firm line.
My throat dried. “Is...is everything okay?”
Rider’s brow furrowed. “Yeah.”
“Maybe I—”
“Don’t.” He stepped toward me, chin lowered. “I know what you’re going to say. Don’t. What happened back there doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
I stood still. “That...had everything to do with me.”
Rider looked away, a muscle flickering along his jaw. A moment passed. “You’re right. In a way, you’re right. But that doesn’t change that Hector invited you or that I want you to come with us.”
The window rolled down and Hector stuck his head out. “You guys coming?”
I looked at Rider, still unsure.
Please.
He didn’t speak it. He mouthed it.
I was going.
* * *
Twenty minutes later I found myself at a small diner that was only a couple of miles from the school. From the looks of it, the diner at one time had been a legit firehouse, which obviously explained the name. The place was old—from the vintage photos hanging on the wall to the red vinyl booths. It had a homey feel to it, as if at any given moment you’d hear the older woman behind the register yelling at her son, who was cooking the food. I had no idea if that was the case, if it was family owned or whether the kind of unhappy-looking woman perched on a stool had any kids, but that was the feel of the place.
I liked it.
All of us ordered virtually the same—hamburgers and fries. Rider and I added cheese. Hector added every condiment under the sun. The food was delicious, so much better after forcing myself to eat the mystery meat at lunch.
I was glad I’d decided to go.
It was almost like there hadn’t been a reason for me to not have gone. I was having a good time listening to the guys give each other a hard time. Sometimes, Hector would slip into Puerto Rican and Rider would respond in kind. I got the impression they were insulting each other. I learned that cállate meant shut up, which was something they said to each other often.
I kept my phone in my bag. On the way here, I’d sent Rosa a message that I was grabbing a bite to eat with friends and then I’d be home. The text—a text that millions of normal teens probably sent every day, but that was all new to me—left me feeling a little giddy and I turned my phone to silent so I wouldn’t stress out if Rosa tried to get in touch with me. My phone had vibrated in my bag about fifteen minutes into the drive. I didn’t need to look to know it was either her or Carl. When I got home, I would tell them that I was driving and couldn’t answer.
I did feel bad—for the lying part.
Admittedly, it did not stop me from enjoying this.
Hector leaned back in the booth and patted his flat stomach. “Aw, man, that hit the spot. I could live off their burgers.”
Beside me, Rider snorted. “As much as you eat here, you already do live off them.”
“Whatever,” he replied, grinning as he shifted forward, dropping his arms onto the table. “I eat different stuff here.”
“Like what?”
He rolled his eyes. “Let’s see. I get their hamburger sub.”
I grinned.
“That’s practically the same thing as a regular hamburger,” Rider said as he sat back and dropped his arm along the back of our booth. “Try again.”
His eyes narrowed. “I get their onion rings.”
“That doesn’t count.” Rider tapped my shoulder with his fingers. “Does it?”
I shook my head.
“You’re not helping,” Hector replied as he snatched a fry off my plate.
So. Much. Like. His. Brother.
Rider chuckled as he shifted in the booth next to me. “You got to work tonight?”
Hector shook his head. “Nah. Tomorrow, though.”
“Where...do you work?” I asked.
“At someplace really cool,” he replied without missing a beat. I peeked up at him. He smiled. “At McDonald’s.”
“Which is why you’d think he’d eat something other than hamburgers,” Rider added.
“Firehouse hamburgers are not the same as McDonald’s. I can’t even believe we are having this conversation.” Hector looked at me. “Anyway, I started there about a year ago. It was the quickest and easiest place to get hired. My abuelita’s social security isn’t
The Problem with Forever Page 17