Claire's Song (23 page)

            Ryder moves forward and kisses me on the lips, just long enough to make me want more. "God, I don't deserve you," he whispers against my lips. I shake my head, because it really feels the other way around.

            "Let's hear the song then, pretty girl," he smiles at me. I like that nickname and I like the way it sounds coming from Ryder. He never seemed much like a nickname kind of guy to me, and it just makes me fall even harder.

            I press play and lean my head on his shoulder again, my hands clasped in his. I don't want to look at him, because he knows what I think, and now he's hearing the lyrics. Words and melodies that make me think of him.

            We listen and at one point Ryder kisses my head. A smile spreads across my face. Am I crazy? Am I really allowed to be this happy? When the song ends, Ryder hands my Ipod back to me and then those gorgeous gray blue eyes are staring at me, his gaze causing intense butterflies to knock around in my stomach.

            "Thank you," he says, his hand runs the length of my hair and he fingers the ends of it. "That meant more than you know."

            I nod. I'm almost glad he didn't catch what I was trying to say, because here with one minute left for lunch on the quad is not the place to discuss the big L. "I'm glad you liked it. Now you need to download it." The bell rings.

            "I will." Ryder holds me still for a moment. "And I'll think of you every time I listen to it." He kisses me and it ain't chaste, I can tell you that. His tongue moves against mine and we even get a few catcalls from kids heading to class. My heart beats faster with each touch, my body responding to him and cursing the fact that we're here at school. I knew we should've skipped today. I knew it.

            The late bell rings and we manage to extricate ourselves from each other. "Better be glad we're at school," Ryder almost growls, his voice thick, as we stand up and start for class.

            We stop at the door of my next class. "I'm almost wishing we weren't," I smile and give him a wink. The look on his face is priceless.

RYDER

            Claire's got me all riled up, even as we slide into her car after school. I don't know how to take the comment she left me with when I dropped her off at class, so I just try to play it cool. Then my mind goes back to that song that she let me hear at lunch. That guy was singing about some serious emotions. Did she feel that way about me? I didn't think I was worthy of any of those kinds of feelings, of love. That song perfectly describes how I feel about her.

            She's making everything tough for me, but I'm still selfish to a fault. I'm sitting here, in love with Claire, in love with every little thing she does, right down to the way she taps to the beat of every song on her steering wheel. But I'm still leaving her. One thing's for sure, my time is limited so I have to make the most of it. I'll let her know how I feel so that when I'm gone she'll never doubt it, not like she does with Jamie, even though I have no idea what's inside the letter he wrote to her. Everything I want in life is Claire. She's everything I need. Everything. I take her hand in mine and squeeze it, letting her know that I'm thinking of her, always thinking of her.

            When we get home, a sleek silver BMW is parked in Claire's spot.

            "Nice ride," I say as I get out and inspect it. It's brand new, still has the temporary tag. Claire's by my side in an instant. She's drooling over it, too.

            "Who is it?" She asks and then pauses at the front of the car. "And do you think they'd notice if we took it for a joyride?" She winks at me. I can't help but laugh. We're making a circle around the car, checking it out, when the front door opens revealing a very worried looking Mrs. Watkins.

            "Hi guys," she says, although not in her usual cheery voice.

            "Everything okay, Mrs. Watkins?" I ask, stepping around, ready to go inside and take care of business if need be.

            Claire shoots me a worried look and then goes to her mom. "Mom? Who's here?"

            "Ryder, you have a visitor, honey," Mrs. Watkins says, answering both of our questions.

            "I don't know anyone who drives a BMW," I laugh.

            She nods, "You do. Come on. Claire, once you're introduced, why don't we go outside for tea? The weather is perfect for it and we haven't done it in so long."

            Claire moves closer to me, her tiny hands wrapping around my arm. "That's fine, Mom, but only if Ryder wants us to leave him."

            "He will," she answers looking at me. Okay, way to pique my interest there, and give me a huge sense of foreboding. Maybe it's one of the people that Shelly owed. God knows she owed a lot and thought her looks could get her out of it, not even realizing that the very thing she owed for stole away her looks and apparently her soul.

            We step inside the house and Mrs. Watkins leads us into the living room. I freeze when I meet a famliar pair of gray blue eyes, eyes just like mine.

            "What the hell are you doing here?" I growl, moving forward.

            My Dad is dressed in a suit, his salt and pepper neatly parted to the side. This guy looks like he belongs on Wall Street. He stands up, his hands held palm out in surrender.             "Son, I came to talk to you and maybe take you home," he says.

His voice rips me apart. I waited four freaking years to hear his voice. I spent four years looking out the window, praying he would come and rescue me and he never did. This man that stands before me, Robert Andrews, is dead in my mind.

            I step back from him, desperate to put as much space between us as possible. My words spitting deadly venom, "I'm not going anywhere with you."

            "Claire, honey, let's go outside," I hear Mrs. Watkins say.

            "You okay?" Claire whispers. Her eyes are wide as she takes in my father and then her gaze swings back at me.

            I nod because I don't want her to witness any further dysfunction.

            She's reluctant, but Claire disappears outside with her Mom. No tea in sight.

            "Is that your girlfriend?" My Dad continues.

            "Listen here, old man. You acted like I didn't exist for four years and now you show up here out of the blue and ask me about my personal life. Who she is is none of your business. You don't get to come here and pretend you actually have a say in what I do, where I go. I'm not going anywhere with you.”
            My Dad's eyes grow wide. He tries to stumble towards me, but I quickly move away. We’re in a tricky dance, pushing and pulling, and all I want to do is to pretend this isn’t happening. "Ryder, I tried to contact you. I tried over and over. Your mother told me that you didn't want to talk to me. Is that true?"

            He's got me. He's reeling me in. "What?"

            "After I left, I wanted you to go with me. Your mother put up a big fight and threatened an ugly custody battle, one she assured I wouldn't win since I cheated on her. I called time and again and she told me you hated me, which I see that part is true."

            I move closer, my fist clenching. Would I really hit my own father? Yeah, I think I would or at least I feel that way right now.

            "I never knew you called," I hiss.

            "Ryder! What? Did you think I just left you there? No! I wanted you with me. A friend of mine called and told me what happened with your mother and…"

            "But what if that never happened? What if my teacher and Claire never found me with thousands of gashes in my head because Shelly broke a beer bottle over my head? Would you still be standing right here or would I still be getting the crap beaten out of me by your ex-wife and her boyfriend?"

            Dad is speechless. His eyes are wide and he's coming towards me, arms open, "Ryder, I had no idea…"

            I step back, my arms out in front of me, a precautionary line of defense, "Don't touch me."

            Dad stands there and stares at me, unsure of what to do. I do the same, intent on not being the first one to blink, to show weakness. The old man finally clears his throat, fixing his tie like he's a freaking politician, and then speaks, "I guess we better pack your things."

            "I told you, I'm not leaving with you," I answer as I bust through the backdoor, the sound of it slamming against the wall and echoing throughout the house.

             I walk right outside to where Claire and her mother are sitting on a swing, both looking like they might throw up. Claire jumps up off the swing and runs toward me, her arms around me in an instant. I guess our secret is out now, but we’ve got bigger problems.

            "He lives in Massachusetts," Claire's mom says quietly.

            That’s news to me and it feels like I’ve been punched in the gut. Claire leans away from me and gives her mother a strange look. Mrs. Watkins nods, silently confirming what she’s already said, and Claire’s face pales. Her arms tighten around me.  I do the same, because right now that’s all I can do.

            "What is he here for?" Claire begins, her voice muffled in my shirt. Her entire body stills as understanding dawns on her. "Oh my God, Ryder, no. He wants you to go with him, doesn’t he?"

            Mrs. Watkins practically leaps up from the swing just as my Dad comes outside. She doesn’t wait for him to start talking; she dives headfirst into what she wants to say.             "With all do respect, Mr. Andrews, this is Ryder's senior year. Why not let him finish it up here, where he’s been all this time? Then he'll be off to college in no time." The woman's got balls and I can clearly see where Claire gets her feistiness.

            My Dad is speechless again, but quickly recovers. "But I don't want him to be a burden to you," he says as he refuses to meet my eyes.

            Burden? I could show him a burden. My fists clench again and I have to breathe slowly to keep from doing something crazy.

            Mrs. Watkins shakes her head and grabs my hand, squeezing it, "Ryder? A burden? He's a wonderful young man and we've enjoyed having him here. His presence has done wonders for our Claire."

            Dad's gaze bounces from her to Claire and then back to me. He's bested at his own game. I smirk at him, because I can.

            "I'm eighteen anyway, Dad. I can live where I want," I add. I was afraid Claire's mom might not want to keep me around. I would’ve figured something out, because there's no way I'm spending my last few months away from Claire.

            "I know that, son."

            "Don't “son” me," I basically spit.

            He rubs his eyes and appears to have aged several years when he levels his gaze at me. "You are my son, Ryder. No matter what’s happened, that never stopped being true. I made plenty of mistakes in my life, but you weren't one of them. Not one day did I regret having you. But you know what my biggest regret is?” He exhales loudly, before continuing, “Not having you in my life. I've missed you
every
day for the past four years, and you've got to believe me when I say that I had no idea your mother was lying or that she was…well, how she turned out. I had no idea or I would’ve been down here and snatched you away from her a lot sooner. I live with that guilt every day." He pauses and I can tell he's thinking. "Tell you what, since you won't come with me, I'll see about getting my business transferred down here for a little while. I can rent an apartment until you graduate and decide where you want to go to school."

            I look at him, my mouth wide open. The words come out before I can stop them, my weakness showing through. "You'd do that?"

            Dad nods, a sad smile beginning to curve his lips. "For you I would."

            I feel like a little boy. What's the matter with me? My Dad says he'll move, uproot his life for me and I'm glad. Even with that, I'm still mad as hell with him. And I don't know if I've forgiven him, but doesn't everybody want the approval of their parents? My relationship with my mother is crap and that’s never going to be fixed. But I'm standing here with Claire by my side, watching at my Dad and I see genuine sorrow in those familiar eyes.

            "Fine. But you're still not forgiven," I answer and then I turn and walk inside the house without another word. Anything more would’ve been a sign of weakness, a sign that I’m cracking and I’m not there yet. Claire's right on my heels, following me up to my room.

            "If you want me to stay, I will. If you want to be left alone, I'm gone before you can blink," she says, her voice barely a whisper as she stands at the door looking unsure.

            I take one look at her and I know one thing is certain. I love this girl and I want her near me now. I wouldn’t send her away. No, it's way too late for all of that. Three big steps and I'm at the door. My arms go around her and pull her in the room, the door shutting and locking behind us.

            "I never want you to go away," I say, our faces so close, her chest rising and falling rapidly, my own breathing speeding up. Being this close to Claire drives me insane, puts everything in overdrive.

            "Then I won’t," she smiles as her fingers curl into the hair at my neck.

            "Would you leave if I told you I loved you?"

            Her eyes go wide, her mouth open. Crap, wrong move.

            "I mean…" I start to backtrack, but she puts her fingers to my lips.

            "Never, you know why? Because I love you, too," she whispers and then she kisses me. She pulls away quickly and smiles at me. "Never thought you'd fall in love with the creepy girl who stared at you in Lit class, huh?"

And just like that everything is okay, everything is right. I laugh, because she's right and I laugh because just being near her makes me happy.