“I read that one when it was required for school, then figured I’d try something else to see if it sucked any less. I’ll never understand why they recommend the worst fucking books for required reading. Is the goal to make people hate reading? If so, great job, keep up the good work.”
“Ugh, I know. I mean, I like a lot of classics, but the required reading list definitely leaves a lot to be desired. I think they should open it up a bit, vary the titles, add some newer material. There are plenty of excellent books out there, some that were written this century.”
“Wild,” he says, shaking his head.
I smile bigger. “I didn’t know you were a reader.”
“Well, you don’t know me,” he points out.
“That’s true.”
“I figure now that Hunter has taken Riley Bishop off the banned girls list, I’d flip through, see if anything caught my interest.”
“Oh, did you?” I shake my head, but I can’t help smiling.
He shoots me a devilish smile of his own, then takes a bite of his sandwich.
I’ve never paid much attention to Ryden Sherlock, mainly because he’s a friend of Hunter’s. He plays football, but he doesn’t look like a jock. He has wild black hair and piercing blue eyes. He’s attractive, but not in the clean-cut, all-American way.
Hunter’s beautiful, but there’s a rougher look to Sherlock, an edginess. I’m pretty sure he picked Anderson’s pocket to get Hunter the keys for the stunt he pulled at homecoming, so it’s probably safe to assume he’s not too worried about what most people think. He’s a rule-breaker.
I kinda like that.
But he’s Hunter’s friend, so even if the possibility existed that I could like Ryden Sherlock, I can’t.
Instead of letting him think I might be open to him, I open my book back up and resume reading. It’s ruder with him sitting here than it was when I was alone, especially since we’re the only two people at the table, but I’m also aware of the possibility that the longer he sits here, the greater the chance Hunter will glance this way.
I’m not sure how he would react, but I wouldn’t want him to turn on his friend.
I don’t think Ryden Sherlock would be fazed by a loss in popularity, but I didn’t care about any of that either. It still sucked to be treated like shit by my classmates.
I don’t want Hunter to bully him, and he might if he thinks he’s sniffing around me.
“What are you doing tonight?”
My heart seizes. I blink at the page of my book, then slowly look up at my lunch companion. “Me?”
“No, the other person at this table.”
“Um… nothing.”
“You’re not working?”
I shake my head. “Not tonight.”
He nods. “Good.”
“Why is that good?”
He takes a bite of his sandwich and takes his time chewing, just to leave me hanging in suspense. Then he looks at me across the table and says, “You’re coming to Hunter’s party with me tonight.”
My heart sinks so hard, I think it leaves my body. “What?” I’m so stunned, I laugh uneasily. “No, I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are.”
My eyebrows rise. “No, I’m not,” I say more forcefully. “Look, you’re right, we don’t really know each other, but here’s something I know about you: you’re Hunter’s friend. Here’s something you know about me: Hunter took my virginity. Given those two facts, without investigating any further, isn’t it safe to say this isn’t kosher? I’m not going out with one of Hunter’s friends. It’s a dick move, and we may not be together, but I do still care about him.”
“I care about him, too,” he says easily. “I wasn’t suggesting we hook up, Riley. Trust me, if I wanted to fuck you, I’d be much more persuasive. I just want you to come to his party with me.”
I frown, confused. “Why?”
“Have you talked to the guy lately?”
I shake my head.
“He’s not doing so hot. He’s kind of a mess, actually. He’s partying every night, blowing off school. If he doesn’t get his shit together, he’s going to get kicked off the football team. He hasn’t been right since homecoming, and while he hasn’t exactly opened up and shared his troubles, it’s not that hard to piece together. Obviously, something went down between you two. That’s your business. I just thought it might do him some good to see you. Maybe snap him out of it.”
“You mean, seeing him there with you might snap him out of it.”
He shrugs, not denying it.
I sigh. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Hunter’s a jealous guy. If I show up with you—”
“He’ll wake up,” Sherlock interrupts, cutting to the point. “It’s not real. We won’t keep it going. We won’t lie to the guy. We’ll show up together and let him draw the obvious conclusion, but that’s it, then it’s over. He needs a shock to his system, something to drag him out of this self-destructive spiral he’s heading toward. If you can’t count on your friends to help pull your head out of your ass when you need it, who can you count on?”
When he puts it that way, it makes a lot of sense.
I’m still not convinced it’s a good idea, but lunch is nearly over and I don’t want to give him my number, so I don’t have long to think it over.
“All right,” I say. “I’ll meet you at his house. He lives close to me, so I can walk over and meet you out front.”
“You sure? I could pick you up.”
That’s too much like a date, so I shake my head.
Sherlock nods. “All right. As long as we walk in together, he won’t know I didn’t bring you. Let’s show up late, though, once the party is in full swing.”
“Okay. What time should I get there?”
“I’m thinking 11,” he says, standing and grabbing his lunch tray. Before he goes to discard his trash, he smiles at me and says, “Wear something sexy.”
___
Bad idea, party of two.
I turn, sighing as I inspect my own reflection in the mirror.
I look good. Really good. My dark hair is down the same as always, but I put on some dramatic eye makeup that makes my blue eyes really pop. I glossed up my lips and borrowed an outfit from my mom—I don’t have anything sexy. My skirt is short and black. The red top I borrowed is super sexy, a solid cami top underneath and a sheer layer over it.
It’s actually so sexy, I have second thoughts about wearing it. I almost take the whole outfit off and change into simple jeans and a T-shirt, but I’m running late as it is.
I grab the Kate Spade bag Hunter bought me since it matches my outfit best, then I head out to go to his house.
Unfortunately, Mom’s home.
“Whoa, holy hell, where do you think you’re going?”
I slow to a stop, tugging on my skirt. Ray is on the couch with her, so I’m more conscious of how short it is. That’s probably a clear indication it’s too short and I should go change.
“Um, a party.”
Mom blinks at me. “A party? With who?”