Or maybe it was just him.
Probably just him.
Peter’s party was being held at his grandparents’ house since they’d left for Florida in September. The house was in the opposite direction of the Rivases’, on the outskirts of the city, where there were larger homes with yards. Keira had explained that Peter’s older brother would be there as unofficial chaperone, but he was twenty-one, so he wasn’t an adult-adult.
“Wow,” Ainsley murmured as the narrow, heavily tree-lined road cleared and the house came into view.
The house was really a farm—a big old farmhouse, and there were cars everywhere, parked in haphazard lines. My stomach twisted as I took in the sea of vehicles and the people milling around the side of the white-and-red farmhouse.
This...this was a lot of people.
“Probably smart to park back here,” Rider advised. “Alongside the road and keep some distance behind this car. You know, in case someone pulls...”
Oh my gosh, this was seriously a lot of people here.
Sweat dotted my brow. Blood pounded in my ears. Hot, I blindly smacked against the door until I hit the button. The window rolled down and cool air poured into the car. That wasn’t all. My mouth dried. Acid churned in my stomach. The scent of burning wood was choking me. Music pumped and the hum of conversation and laughter echoed in my ears.
I jumped when a hand landed on my arm. My head swung to Rider. His mouth moved, and for a second I couldn’t make out what he was saying. All I could hear was all the noise—screeching laughter and loud voices. I struggled to focus on what was happening in the car.
“Mallory?” he said.
I swallowed. “What?”
His brows slammed down as he searched my face. “You zoned out.”
“You okay?” Ainsley asked, clutching the back of my seat. “You’re super pale.”
“You are.” Rider cupped my cheek. “Holy shit, your skin is clammy.”
Our eyes met. “This is...so overwhelming.”
Concern tightened the corners of his lips as he leaned over. “We don’t have to do this.”
“We don’t,” Ainsley agreed from the backseat. Her arm reached out and she squeezed my arm. “Actually, I’d rather do something else. This is just a stupid farmhouse party, and I bet they don’t even have horses or cows. Now that would be cool.”
Rider’s gaze held mine as he nodded. “Ainsley’s right. It’s just a stupid party.”
But it was...important.
It meant I was trying.
And leaving wasn’t even trying.
“I don’t want to...be like this,” I whispered as I looked away, and once I said it, I didn’t even want to take the words back. A weird sensation hit me, almost like...like relief. That didn’t make sense. Or did it? “I don’t like who I am.”
My gaze returned to his, and the concern was still there, filling his hazel eyes and thinning out his mouth. Tears crawled up the back of my throat. Humiliating actually, to admit something so intimate like that, but now I wasn’t the only one who knew this about myself. It wasn’t my secret.
“It’s okay. You’re not going to feel that way forever.” Rider smoothed his thumb along my jaw. I closed my eyes, wanting to believe him. Needing to. He kept his voice low as he spoke. “Nothing lasts forever, Mouse.”
* * *
We didn’t go to the party.
We ended up going to a movie.
I didn’t even drive to the theater. Rider had. And then he dropped Ainsley off, and then once I convinced him that I was fine, I dropped him off. Tonight had been a first—the first time I’d gone to the movies with a boy, and I wasn’t even there for it. My head was stuck on the fact that tonight had been an absolute failure.
I was pretty sure Carl and Rosa had waited up for me, but they were considerate enough not to jump on me when I entered the house and quietly climbed the stairs. My cell phone rang about five minutes after I closed the bedroom door. It was the first time Rider had ever called me on the phone for, well, obvious reasons.
“You there, Mouse?” he asked.
“Yes.” I clutched the phone to my ear.
There was a pause. “There’s something I need to say to you and I want you to listen, okay?”
My stomach dropped. I sat on the edge of the bed, my legs curled under me. I hadn’t gotten changed yet, just stripped off the cardigan that smelled faintly of popcorn. I braced myself—tried to at least—for Rider to say this whole relationship thing was a bad idea. A million things raced in my head before he spoke again.
“You said something tonight that really bothered me,” he said, and I heard a door close on his end. “You said you didn’t like yourself.”
I focused on the incomplete butterfly on my desk as I opened my mouth. No words.
“I hated hearing that, Mouse. I don’t like knowing you think that way,” he continued, and I closed my eyes. The burn was back, building in my throat. “There’s so much about you that you should like. You’re smart. You’ve always been smart. You’re planning to go to college and maybe even do something med school–related.”
I squeezed my eyes tight then, because I...I didn’t think I really wanted to do that, and thinking that made me feel like I was floating with no anchor.
“You’re kind,” he went on as I covered my face with my hand. “You’re a sweet person who has her entire future ahead of her. Not to mention you’re a great kisser. You kind of suck at the whole graffiti thing, though. That’s true.”