The Fall

Three

I had on a skirt. You have to understand what a strange occurence this was for me; usually, I just wore jeans, sneakers, and faded tees like most other girls I knew. But Ryder made me want to be pretty for some reason, and I went with it, feeling awkward in my cream colored lace skirt and olive green Converse. His car was parked in one of the best spots, that I thought was reserved for teachers- he had ethier gotten really lucky during the parking spot lottery or pulled some strings. He leaned back against the car, with a slightly calculated expression of nostalgia.

"Wow, your car is really nice. When did you get it?" I asked, trying to break the ice.

"Sophomore year, the same time as I got my license. Her name is Jasmin, in case you were wondering."

"You named your car?"

It was a cute eccentricity, and knowing that kind of little detail about him made me fall even harder. I wanted him to know all the small things about me, too- the crescent-shaped birthmark on my shoulder, my love for science, how how I dreamed of building robots for people with dementia that required assisted living, my vision of the world and how I thought I could change it.

I had been so nervous about this date, but then I realized— I needed to take some risks

"I name everything. I think, you know, every single object or person or whatever has a character and naming it helps recognize that. Jasmin, she's a beauty and her name just kind of came to me. It's an intuitive kind of thing."

Ryder was right about the car being a beauty; it was a muted silver color, and I guessed that it might have been a lower end Cadillac. The contrast between his grimy persona and the slightly cosmopolitan sheen of his vehicle was striking, and it made him look alluringly dangerous. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who belonged in West Virginia, and if I was being honest, that was the primary basis for my attraction to him.

"Anyways, enough about my car. Let's grab some pizza."

Main Street was about a fifteen minute drive; everything was so spread out around here. The badly paved streets were practically unpoliced, a fact which in practice translated to "Stop signs? What stop signs?" Ryder was no exception to the rules of West Virginia driving- he ran reds and went ten or fifteen miles over the speed limit.

It was treacherous, yet incredibly freeing. I rolled down the windows, letting the wind blow through my hair as we drove

"So much for Southern hospitality," I joked.

"Yeah, well, manners are overrated. I prefer to just get to it, straight from point A to point B." he responded, smirking. I didn't know people actually smirked like that in real life- I thought charming smiles like that only existed in movies and terrible young adult novels.

But there he was, his cocky expression as real as anything.

"People say and do shit all the time, they can dress it up it all the language or fancy rituals they want but it's still the same words. It doesn't matter, when you really think about it," Ryder continued.

Although I had a sneaking suspicion that this whole slacker/philospher thing was just an act, I decided to play along. It was nice being able to have halfway intelligent conversations with someone my age, regardless of the authenticity. Ryder's car kept the mid-September breeze outside, so it felt like summer again. 

"I get what you mean, but isn't, like, how you deliver the things you say and how you frame what you do just as important? I mean, there's a reason we, as a society, value politeness. It signifies that you respect someone, that you value their attention." 

Ryder chuckled softly, then swung into a parking space in front of Venice Pizza, which was owned by the only actual Italian family around here. The pizza place was the exception that proved the rule, honestly. Even our one Chinese restaurant was run by white people.

"Baby, you know I love to argue, but I need pizza first."

His demeanor switched suddenly, turning from cool and sarcastic to sickeningly condescending the moment I challenged something he said. I decided to keep pushing him, to see how he would react to a little more teasing.

"Since when am I your baby? I thought that was a nickname reserved for girls you actually cared about, and, you know, dated for some length of time."

"Hey, relax. It's just a pet name, Kacey. Why do you have to make everything so serious? Anyways, what do you want on the pizza?"

He rolled his eyes, daring me to snark back. It was obvious that he was into me and just didn't want to admit it, but his behavior still irked me. Nevertheless, he just seemed kind of troubled and misunderstood— like he needed someone to care about him. I never thought guys like Ryder were real, but there he was in all his fucked up glory.

"Everything except sausage and pepperoni is my usual order."

Ryder and I went up to the counter to order. I didn't expect him to take my topping choice into account, but he did.

"We want a small everything pizza, no sausage," he said to the zit-faced kid making the pies across from us.

"I won't compromise on the pepperoni, though," he bantered, smiling arrogantly at me. "I mean, what kind of freak hates pepperoni? It's an American classic! You, my friend, are a disgrace to this country."

"Shut up, Ryder. At least I don't treat my cars better than I treat my people."

"But I hate people," he responded, sulking.

I liked this. Joking around with him, bouncing insults off one another- it felt natural.

"Am I the exception, or do you hate me too?" I batted my lashes at him, and smiled. Two can play this smirking game, I thought.

"Nope," he said, opening his wallet to pay for the meal. "In fact, I like you so much that I think you should be my girlfriend. What do you say?"

--Kacey, dreamily.