How To Love A Dead Boy

Chapter 16 | A Certain Closeness

A CERTAIN CLOSENESS

Ryden and I walk around the park, following a stone path around a small pond. A cool breeze moves through the orange and red trees. The sudden chill reminds me of the quickly ending day. Ryden and I have been at this park for hours, just walking around, sometimes sitting down, and just talking.

Midday has passed, and so too early afternoon. Night is now fast approaching, but the idea of going to have to go home after such a brilliant day doesn't appeal, what so ever.

"So," Ryden begins, "We've talked about the weather. We've talked about our siblings. And we've talked about our favourite foods. Not to mention the millions of other things; But, I can tell that something is still on your mind," Ryden says. I bite my lip. He’s right, something is on my mind, but I'm not sure whether he'll appreciate me asking him about.

"Come on, get it out," he urges and I feel him shove me playfully. I take a deep breath, readying myself to form the words.

"What... What were you doing in that car Ryden?" I ask him.

An overhead jet causes a large shadow across the park as it goes across the sun at the moment, and the lack of warm sun sends a chill through my body. The jet, probably on its way to London passes and sunlight comes back. The presence of silence coming from Ryden gets me worried. 

"I... I don't want to talk about that night... or anything concerning that night," he replies and I frown. Stopping in my tracks, I cross my arms over my chest.

"Why not?" I ask him. I make myself seem strong and intimidating, by any mean trying to get information out of the boy. 

"I said I don't want to talk about it. Why can't you get through your head? It's not like I'm telling you in another language," he lashes out.

His tone shocks me and any attempt to seem strong flies out of the window. His voice is gruff and he's obviously pissed off and angry, which scares me. I'm not afraid of him as such, somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm afraid of pushing him so far that he leaves me.

Oh get over it Lucy, it was only a bloody question; it's not your fault if he's an overly sensitive prick, part of me argues. He's not a prick! He's just a nice, cute {dead} sensitive boy, another part argues. I spend a few moments standing in between the two, deciding which way I should go.

"Fine. Whatever. You didn't have to be such an asshole about it," I say, fed up with arguing with myself, and him. A few minutes pass by.

"It's getting late. I don't want to be out too late," I say, breaking the silence that has fallen between us.  I uncross my arms and begin walking again, this time back towards the front of the park, where my bike is hopefully still locked up to the rack.

The whole ten minutes I spend making my way back through the park, the neither of us speak. The subject of his death has put a silent spell on the both of us. I wonder what's going around in his mind; mine is a mixture of memories from the night, reliving our little squabble and wondering whether I'll make it back by dark.

At the front of the park, I take my key out of my pocket and unchain my bike from the rack. Throwing the chain back into my backpack, I throw the pack on my shoulders. Gripping the handle bars of the bike, I decide not to ride my bike through town, but rather wait until I got to the main road to jump on.

With the time reaching the end of school hours, there will be too many people out and about to have to dodge, as well as an excess of cars around the streets. I don't ask Ryden how to get home from here, hoping that if I just go the way we came, I'll eventually find familiar territory.