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“Well, thanks again.” I bit my lip. “I’ll see you around.”
He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for me to walk away. I did. And felt his eyes on my body the entire time, down the dark hallway and into the crowd.
Ryan didn’t stay long after our conversation. He and his group left shortly afterward. I didn’t know how to feel about that. I should have been relieved instead of disappointed. It was very confusing. I haven’t felt conflicted about doing the right thing in a very long time. I didn’t need Ryan messing with my head right now. That solidified my decision. I was doing the right thing by staying away from him.
I would just continue to avoid him. We definitely didn’t run in the same circles.
It would be easy to avoid him.
*
The trouble was, Ryan didn’t stay away from me. He came to the bar every night. Sometimes on his own, most of the time with friends. We never spoke. Sam either took care of his table or another server did.
At night, he stayed until closing and somehow always got into his car at the same time as I got into mine. Anytime my mind wondered if it was more than just mere coincidence, I shut down that line of thinking. It led to a dead end, anyhow.
A couple of weeks later, my body was worn down from the daytime classes and nighttime job, and I came down with a cold. My head pounded and my body ached. I could barely move my legs without breaking into a sweat from the effort.
“I’m going out, Laura,” my dad called from the hallway. From the cocoon of my comforter, I asked with a hoarse voice, “Where are you going?”
“Out. I won’t be long. Can I bring you back something?”
“Dinner would be nice,” I said.
“Sounds good, honey. I’ll see you later.”
I pulled the comforter over my head and went back to bed. A painful growl in the pit of my stomach woke me several hours later. It was eight o’clock. I had already told work I wouldn’t be in but I wondered where my dad was. He was supposed to bring me dinner. I hadn’t dreamed that, right?
I couldn’t remember. My head hurt too much. I pushed the heavy blanket from my chest and shimmied one leg off of the bed.
Ping!
I reached for the phone on my bedside table. It was a message from Ryan.
Ryan: You’re not at work. Are you all right?
I smiled. It was thoughtful of him to check in, even if it was a tad bit stalker-ish.
Me: Just homesick. Still alive. At least for tonight. JK.
Ryan: Is your dad home? Is there someone there to take care of you?
Me: He said he was bringing dinner. He must be running late. I’m sure he’ll be home soon.
Ryan: You haven’t eaten yet?
Me: Not yet.
There were no dots below the message. Ryan wasn’t typing anything. I tried to get out of bed again.
My legs felt so heavy and my chest hurt too much.
Ugh. Forget it. I was going back to bed.
Sometime later, my eyes flew open and I looked around my dark room. Something, a noise, had awakened me, but I heard nothing now. My room was pitch black. I checked my phone; it was now nine o’clock. I’d fallen back asleep for another hour.
Someone knocked lightly on my front door.
Was that the noise I’d heard earlier?
