“Oh,” he throws his hands up. “So now it’s okay for me to sleep next to you?”
He’s not even making sense. “What the hell?” I yell and push his chest with my palms. “Why have you been so cold to me since Dallas? Was it because I had my freak-out? You’re the one who brought me to the boxing place.”
He stops pacing instantly and looks at me. “No. It’s not about that.” He’s serious, and I’m glad, because the thought of him becoming distant over that stung.
“Then what is it? We were having such a good time together.” All of the fight is out of me and now I just feel small. “What did I do? You’ve been like a different person toward me.”
He takes a harsh step forward, cutting the distance between us by half. “What do you think this is between us?” His tone is clipped, strident. His finger is flying back and forth, gesturing between us.
I’m stunned. And hurt. And I don’t know what, but it’s not good.
“I thought you were my friend,” I say in a weak voice, wishing I had it in me to be stronger.
“That’s what you think this is? Friendship?” Why does he sound so incredulous? What the hell else would it be?
I have no idea what’s going on right now.
I’m totally at a loss, so I just stare up at him blinking.
When I don’t respond, he runs his hand through his hair, mutters something under his breath that I cannot make out, and then walks past me.
“I’m going to shower first.” The door to the bathroom slams behind him, startling me. Maybe I’ve pushed him too far on this trip, and he is finally getting sick of being stuck with me. He probably just thinks of me as some bat-shit crazy charity case that he has to deal with.
I walk over to the bathroom and once I hear the sound of the shower curtain opening and closing, I knock softly on the door.
“Ryan?” I call out, but my voice is soft, and I doubt he can hear me over the water of the shower so I open the door and try again. “Ryan?”
He lets out a harsh breath. “What, Katie? I’m in the shower.”
“I know, and I’m not going to look, but I want to ask you something.” I close the lid of the toilet seat and sit down.
“And it couldn’t wait until I was done?”
God, there is just no give with him tonight. As much as I don’t want to ask this next question, I have to. And no, I couldn’t wait.
“Ryan? Do you want to forget the rest of the trip and have me take you directly up to Seattle? Or if you’d rather I not come along, you can always rent a car and go yourself.” I’m trying to keep my voice even, desperate to hide the ache that these words cause inside of me. “I’ll understand either way. I realize it has been a long time on the road with me and that I can be a lot. Whatever you want to do, I’m okay with it.”
I’m not, but I have to give him the out just the same.
He’s silent, the only sound in the small steamy space is the shower running. Suddenly I hear what sounds like his fist smacking against the wet tile wall and he curses under his breath.
“I’ll uh… I’ll let you finish your shower.” I stand up and walk toward the bathroom door. “Just think about what I said and let me know what you decide you’d like to do.”
I leave him in there to finish and go directly to my suitcase. Busy. I need to keep busy or I’ll cry, and I’m so sick of crying.
I dig through my nice clean clothes and find a tank top, boy shorts, panties, and my toiletry bag. The shower shuts off, and a minute later, Ryan walks out with a towel wrapped around his waist.
I’ve seen Ryan without a shirt on several occasions. At the beach and the pool, but I never really allowed myself to look too closely. But as he stalks toward his suitcase, I take in every muscle and the way they stretch and pull with his movements.
He is unbelievable looking. So strong and sculpted.
Yet Ryan is so unassuming with the beard and glasses.
I sort of like that about him.
Averting my eyes, because what I’m doing just feels wrong, I grab my stuff and walk past him into the bathroom.
He lets me. Doesn’t even try to stop me.
I hate that I feel like I lost the only real friend in my life right now. Turning on the shower, I strip down and step in, letting the warm water cascade over me.
I’m getting this feeling again. It is similar to the one I had after Maggie and Eric died. Emptiness. A feeling of void. Like I have no purpose or home. Like I’m lost.
And right now, that is exactly how I feel.
Lost.
I have no home. No job. No real friends.
“How did I get here?” I whisper aloud.
I really don’t know. Leaving Boston seemed like the only solution to an unsolvable problem. Before, Eric and Maggie grounded me. Completed me and gave me a sense of home. When they died, that feeling died with them, and that emptiness only grew and grew until I had a great big chasm inside of me. So I foolishly thought that if I left, that feeling wouldn’t follow me. That I’d be able to find something real to hold onto.
And maybe that is what I have done to Ryan.
Maybe I latched onto him, and everything I thought was mutual, was really just one-sided. How totally and completely unfair of me. He’s just trying to get across the country because he doesn’t fly, and has been indulging my whims because he doesn’t want to be rude to the sad, lonely girl.
No wonder he’s snapping at me.
The poor guy has finally reached his limit, and I’m selfishly making it all about me and my pathetic attempt at finding a life again.
I finish washing up, turn off the shower and dry off. Changing into my clothes, I brush my teeth and then my hair before braiding it. I usually don’t shower at night because I hate sleeping with wet hair, but I don’t have the energy to dry it, so a braid will have to suffice.
I walk out of the bathroom and the room is bathed in darkness. It takes me a minute or two for my eyes to adjust, but once they do, I see Ryan lying on his side facing the window pressed all the way to the edge of the large bed.
Christ, the guy can hardly stand the idea of sleeping in the same bed as me.
I get in on the other side and quietly try to adjust my position without disturbing him.
“Katie?” he asks softly.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry for being so distant the last few days. It is nothing you’ve done, and I apologize if I have made you feel otherwise.” He doesn’t move to look at me. Just talks to me with his back facing me.
“Do you want to go straight up to Seattle?”
“No.” His tone is firm. “I don’t. I’d like to spend these last two weeks with you, and I promise that I’ll be more myself going forward.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I offer quietly, turning to face him though he is still not looking at me.
“No. I don’t. It won’t help, but thank you for offering.”
“If you change your mind, I’m always here for you.”
He sighs out, and it sounds sad, maybe a little resigned. “I know you are. You’re an amazing friend, Katie. Good night.”
“Good night, Ryan.”
Sleep comes quickly for me despite the unrest inside of me.