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I need to see Jayden. Now.
With my phone in hand, I peel away from the mansion. I swipe with my thumb that's all too eager to find her name and press call..
"Hey, Jayden," I start. "I'm at one of those Match Me Bunny shindigs, but it's not... It's just not where I want to be."
There's a pause on the other end, but I can hear Jayden's breath as a soft sound.
"Hmm?" The word is hesitant but hopeful.
"Hmph," I affirm, leaning my head back against my Jeep’s seat and my hand on the steering wheel. "I'd rather be hanging out with you."
"Give me twenty minutes?" Her tone brightens.
"Twenty minutes," I agree.
The rest of the drive is surprisingly calming until I’m standing in front of an apartment door about to knock.
Jayden's front door swings open, and there she stands. Her green eyes find mine, but there's a guarded edge to them, as if she's bracing herself for something.
"Hey, Ryder," she says. “Come in.”.
"Hey." I step inside, toeing off my shoes.
"Did you enjoy the party?" She asks it casually, but I catch the flicker of something else in her gaze.
"Not particularly," I admit. "It's all... superficial."
"Ah." She nods, a curtain of red hair swaying with the motion. "I get it."
Suddenly, the standoffishness dissipates, replaced by the Jayden I’m getting to know—a vibrant spark in human form. Our conversation takes off, talking about everything that comes to mind.
"Thanks for ditching the high-class orgy to spend your evening with little ol' me," she teases, a playful smile dancing on her lips.
"Trust me, it's no sacrifice," I reply, my laugh genuine for the first time tonight. It's true.
We're lounging on her couch, and I'm half-listening, half just watching her speak. She does this thing with the way her hands move with every word; it’s like she's painting her past in the air as she’s telling the story.
"Then there was this one summer," she says, laughter bubbling up inside her, "Dad decided we were 'roughing it'—no hotels, no fancy restaurants. Just us, a tent, and whatever we could catch or forage."
"Sounds... rustic." I stretch out my legs, feeling the pull of muscles still aching from today’s practice. Her stories, they're so different from my own memories, full of warmth and whimsy.
"Your turn," she nudges me with her foot, making me smile. She's always digging for more, for the real me.
"Alright," I start, leaning back, hands behind my head. "My mom wasn’t around too much. She was off doing who knows who in the high class world, so it was just me and the rink most days. That slab of ice was both babysitter and best friend."
"Loneliness and companionship," Jayden muses, tilting her head, considering my words.
"Something like that." My voice trails off, and we sit in silence, the kind that speaks volumes.
The front door clicks open, and we both turn as Jayden's roommate breezes in, keys jangling. "Hey, guys," she greets with a friendly smile.
"Hey," I nod back, trying to remember her name—it's not coming to me.
"Jayden, you two need anything?" She pauses at the threshold, poised to either join in or leave us be.
"We're good, thanks," Jayden says, and her roommate nods, disappearing down the hallway, the click of her bedroom door granting us privacy once more.
"Where were we?" Jayden asks, drawing her knees up under her chin.
