CH. 6
POV: RYLAND
There's a huge piano in the library at the house. As a kid, I'd spend every second I could playing it. Piano lessons were one of the only two things I ever asked my father for as a kid, but he said no. So, I taught myself when he wasn't around. Occasionally, Archer's mom would come in, and she'd listen to me play. She'd give me tips or song suggestions. I secretly liked playing more when she was with me.
I'm good at playing the piano. It distracts all the parts of my brain that just get in the way. I feel relaxed. Loose. Clean. I can think freely.
I'm a bit unsteady from the lack of practice, though. Burley didn't exactly have a practice room for me to visit over the four years. It's noticeable I haven't touched a piano in a long time, but I’m imagining Archer's mom in my head as I play. She's sitting next to me on the bench like always, rubbing her thumb across my cheek.
"You've still got it. You're just a little rough around the edges." Her voice is clear as day in my head. The sun's streaming into the library through the windows, casting her in a warm glow.
I wonder where she is now. Archer said she's just not around anymore. I don't know if that's all he's willing to tell me or if that's all he really knows. I wouldn't mind her here.
Though, I wonder if she’d still treat me nice now.
The song is building, gaining volume and intensity. It's angry, and it’s sad, and I've finally been able to play it all the way through with no mistakes. The sounds are crashing around me, echoing through the library, echoing through my very soul, and the crescendo is coming, it's coming-
"Ryland!"
I pause over the keys. The sounds vanish, and the library returns to its pin-drop quiet state. Breathless, I hiss, "What?"
When I turn to face Archer, he's staring at me from the library doors with wide eyes. He's got a towel over his head like he just got out the shower, and he's in jeans and a wrinkled red t-shirt. Go figure.
"Kori's at the door," he says, scrubbing at his head with the towel. "She asked for you."
I'm on my feet instantly. "What?"
"Yeah," Archer says. "Did you not know she was coming? I told her to wait by the door since you were practicing. She looks kinda upset-"
I push past him out the door, running down the steps three at a time. She's here? Why would she be here? If she's here, something's got to be wrong. Maybe her house exploded, and her brother died a fiery death. Though, I suppose she'd go to the police or a hospital first then...
I slow down as I get to the bottom of the first set of steps. You can see the rest of the stairs from the first floor.
When I get to the foyer, Kori Merrick is most definitely standing in the middle of the giant rug, looking around like she's got amnesia. She's got on a black dress and flats. Her hair's a mess, falling out of whatever style she had it in, and her face is flushed red like she sprinted all the way here. Archer's watching us from the second floor, leaning slightly over the banister. I glance up at him, and he sighs and walks off.
I stop completely at the bottom of the stairs. "You know, I'm trying to piece together what you could possibly be doing in my house."
Her head whips over to look at me. "Ryland. Your house…it’s beautiful."
I don't know why she said that, like she and everyone else didn't used to come over every summer. "Thanks."
She swallows, opening her mouth and then choosing to close it. I wait, watching her, and she makes a small noise in the back of her throat, like she has something she wants to say but it won’t come out.
"Well," I finally say, raising an eyebrow, "if that's all you came to say, then it was nice of you to stop by-"
"The project. I came to do the project. For English,” she says, lifting her chin slightly and locking eyes with me. "Something came up...at my house. So, let's do it here."
"Ah, yes," I say, nodding. "Just go ahead and make the executive order. And the people say dictatorships are dying."
She groans, rubbing her face in her hands. Maybe I should stop talking for once. I don't actually want her to get upset and leave. (I never want Kori to leave.)
"Please. Please, let's just work here." She says it quietly, her face still in her hands. "I meant to call, but I realized I didn't have your number, and I didn't want you to leave yet. I guess I could've asked Archer for your info, but it didn't really cross my mind. But we can't work at my house, not right now.”
She's rambling now. I walk forward, stopping on the rug a few feet away. I'd actually been about to head over to her place after 10 more minutes of practicing, so her timing was pretty good. "Alright, alright," I say, crossing my arms. "Take your shoes off."
Kori looks up at me with wide eyes. "What?"
"No shoes in the house.” I’ll have to smack Archer later for letting her inside like that. “Take them off, then you can properly come in."
Surprisingly, she crouches down and undoes the straps on her flats without a word, slipping her feet out. I watch as she places her shoes by the door. Then she turns back to face me.
Kori Merrick is standing in my house. In my foyer. Barefoot. In a short black dress.
Every drop of blood in my body betrays me, rising to my ears and cheeks. I quickly turn and begin walking towards the stairs. "Alright, Kiwi. Follow me."
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POV: KORI
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Ryland's in a dark green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black jeans. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone. His hair's down flat today, falling over his eyebrows in lazy, curled waves. He looks relaxed, in a way I've never seen him before.
I follow him up the spiral staircase to the second floor. Ryland stops in front of a huge brown door for a moment before pushing it open. His bedroom is as big as a ballroom. Our house isn’t small, but from the size of Ryland and Archer’s, they could fit two of our houses inside theirs and still have room. With a start, I realize the room looks the exact same as it did when we were kids. It’s clean, though, and smells like him.
He picks his copy of Romeo and Juliet up off his desk and then turns to me.
I pause. “I don’t…have mine.”
"I noticed." Ryland walks past me out of the room. “You’ll have to use Archer’s.”
I hurry to catch up with him, walking at his side. The air between us feels so...light right now, and I'm desperate to keep a hold of it. We hadn't talk for this long since elementary school, and he didn't kick me out onto the streets, so that's an improvement, right?
“Or we could just share yours,” I say with a half-grin.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re turning out to be a shitty partner, aren’t you?”
Archer lets me use his book, and I get a peek inside his room as he hands it to me. I haven’t been to their house since middle school. Once high school started, Archer claimed he was never home unless he needed to be, and that he’d much rather meet somewhere to hang out then do stuff at his house. I think he found the house lonely without Ryland.
We end up working in the living room on the first floor. I’m on the couch, and he’s in a recliner chair a few feet away. I lean back onto the cushions, flipping through the book. “Have you thought of any scenes?” I ask.
“Of course not.” He’s staring at his book, but I don’t think he’s reading.
I nod. “Well, we could always do the death scenes. Mrs. Brown would get a kick out of those. If we pick a scene she likes, we could be the worst actors on the planet, and she wouldn’t care."
Ryland shrugs.
I try again. "The 'where for art thou, Romeo' scene is iconic, too. Nothing wrong with being simple, right?"
He makes a face but doesn't say anything.
"What?" I ask. "Do you not want to do that? At least say something."
"Nothing."
"Come on, don't do that," I groan, closing the book. "How are we supposed to get anything done if you won't even open your mouth to give ideas? Since when are you so quiet?"
"Since I have nothing to say," he says smoothly, flipping a page in his book. "Unless you just like the sound of my voice, Kiwi."
"You know, Grace says communication is the key to any relationship," I continue.
Ryland snorts. "Grace? Why would you take relationship advice from her? She's like human dude repellant."
"I meant like a friendship." I cross my right leg over my left as I talk. I sound desperate and flustered, but I'm the one who brought this all up, so I might as well keep going. "But friendship's a two-way street. Nothing starts without change. We've got to put up with each for 3 weeks anyways. I'm not saying we've got to be besties or anything."
"No thanks." He slides down in his seat, tapping his right foot.
"So, you'd rather just sit here and hate each other for the rest of our lives?"
"Sounds fun, doesn't it? I'm thinking hateful thoughts at you constantly."
I stare at him for a moment. "You really are impossible."
"Always happy to disappoint."
I let out a sigh, opening Archer's book back up. I'm not sure what I'd been expecting. Ryland Park is never going to stop hating me, no matter how hard I try to be nice. At this point, I might as well stop getting upset.
Or, at least stop letting him see that he's upset me. That's a little easier.
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POV: RYLAND
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"So, what was that about?" Archer asks.
I'm lying on my bed listening to music, and I look up at him. "Wipe that dopey look off your face."
"What look?" he asks. He's standing in my doorway, and he steps into the room. "This is just my face."
"Is that right?" I reach over and turn my speaker off. I can always tell when Archer wants to ask me something. He'll wring the bottom of his shirt in his hands, and his cheeks will flush bright red.
"Yep, that's right." Archer nods, not breaking eye contact. I watch his hands move to tug at his shirt. "So...how was it?"
"How was what?"
"Oh, come on, man. You know what I'm talking about."
I sit up. "Arch, if you're asking how working on our school project went, then you must be bored out of your fucking mind."
Archer rolls his eyes. "I was just asking," he says, leaning against my wall. "Kori was here for a long time. Like, 3 hours, yeah? Were you seriously working the whole time?"
"Yes, actually, we were." Yes, unfortunately, we were. A million fantasies had run through my mind while she'd been here, and they stayed just that. Sex-filled, grope-festy fantasies.
Archer's eyeing me strangely now. "So how did it go?"
Now he's starting to piss me off, and I wasn't in a great mood anyways. "Why?" I snap. "Are you asking if she interrogated me about that summer? Is that where you're going with all of this? Cuz no, Archer, she didn't ask me any fucking questions. No one has. And I don't know about you, but I'd like to keep it that way."
Archer's eyes widen. "No, no! I-I wasn't... Jesus, Ryland, I'm sorry. I didn't mean...sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad."
"I don't know why you thought that wouldn't make me mad."
He nods. "I know, I know. That's not where I was going with all of that. It's just..." He sighs, annoyed, and runs his hand through his hair. "This is hard for me, man. I feel like I've got to tiptoe around you like you're made of glass. You being back and all, it's just...I can't..."
I stand then, my eyes narrowing. "It's just what? Use your words, Arch."
He's shaking his head. "It's hard, okay? Dad isn't making things any easier, either."
I feel a lump in my throat. "Dad? What the hell is he saying to you?"
"Nothing, nothing! Just the usual Archer-you're-so-weak-you'll-never-be-able-to-inherit-the-company stuff he always says," Archer says. "And...he asks about you sometimes." Archer pauses for a moment, and then he steps closer to me. "Ryland please...talk to me, man. I saw your face when I told you Kori was at the door, alright? I don't...I don't know how you're feeling. I used to. We used to read each other so well, but now you just..."
His voice trails out, but he reaches an arm out towards me. Shaking my head, I take a step back.
He grimaces. "Ryland, please. You don't have to be alone in this. That's what I'm here for. That's what I'll always be here for! I don't care about what happened, alright? I don't! And I'm sorry if I made you feel like I did. I was 13, and I was scared, and I didn't know what to do. These last four years have been torture without knowing how you were doing or if you were okay. My one biggest regret is making you feel like you were alone. I've never stopped thinking about it, not ever. And we're both here now, but nothing will change if you don't talk to me."
I'm frozen in place. My head's spinning, and my mouth is dry, and my legs feel weak.
I haven't spoken a word to my father since the night he shipped me off. The only reason I'm back now is because the academy got a letter asking for my early graduation. I thought he'd be here when I arrived, but Archer was the only one in the house.
I...don't want to see him. I don't think I'll be able to handle it. If I saw him now, everything from that summer would come flooding back even harder, and I'm too weak.
“Ryland...what the hell have you done, boy?" he’d asked me, but he already knew the answer by then. Why do people ask questions they already know the answer to?
And, oh God, Archer...
I truly think I traumatized him that day. He may smile and laugh and joke, but we both know. We both know he's broken inside because of me.
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"Ryland..." Archer’s voice trembled, and he gripped my arm tight. "Is he...is he dead? Did we kill him?”
I said nothing. I couldn’t have responded even if I wanted to.
“Oh...oh, Ryland, he's dead!” Archer sobbed, clutching me tighter. “He's dead! We killed him! Austin's dead!"
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"Get out," I whisper. I think I'm going to be sick.
Archer's eyes widen. "Ryland-"
"Get out! Get the fuck out!"
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TO BE CONTINUED...
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Flashback reveals are always fun.
-Zuffy <3
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