The List

chapter 2

 When I was a child, Ryder's home always was a safe haven for me. And even now, as I sat in the dining room where Ryder and I were never allowed in (two ten-year-olds were sure to make a mess in there), I felt safe and oddly protected.

And even though the house had changed beyond my recognition, Ryder hadn't. He was charismatic and warm and welcoming, and deceivingly prying, as I always remembered him to be.

"So," I looked up to him from reviewing his last math test, my list torn from it's bindings from my planner in his hand, a smirk planted on his face, "your list."

I made a face, standing from my seat reaching over the table for the stupid piece of paper, "Ryder," I complained as he pulled it out of reach.

He pointed at me with an accusing finger, "No Alice, we're talking about this!"

Was he being serious, we were talking about my list? Us? "Ryder that's private, for my eyes only!"

"No!" He protested in a child-like voice, "It's for Alice and Ryder's eyes only!"

I sighed, leaning back to a regular stance, crossing my arms, "Listen, Ryder, I really appreciate your enthusiasm, it's refreshing, but I don't need your help for it, we're not even friends!" I exclaimed, making another failed grab for the paper.

"Alice!" He genuinely looked hurt. "Of course we're friends, why would you even tempt that idea?"

I frowned.

Ryder Thompson was friends with everyone, and I mean, everyone. For Ryder, it didn't matter who you were, what's your grades were, whether you were annoying or not, he was kind and he made you his friend, no matter what.

So I supposed, I was still friends with him.

"I mean," I stammered. "We haven't spoken in years Ryder, and we sort of drifted, and-" I couldn't find any more excuses to why we weren't friends anymore. Our mothers had been best friends all their lives, and we just became best friends because I was always there, but we just found interest in different things in high school that was all, and there was nothing wrong with that.

"We'll always be friends Alice, hell, we'll always be best friends," he skipped around the dining room table and paused by the swinging door, "you're never getting rid of me."

I raised a brow at his disappearing figure, turning to follow him out the door, "Ryder!" I called to his retreating figure running up the plush stairs to his bedroom.

Groaning, and rather annoyed that he was diverting from our present task: study, I followed him up the stairs and into his bedroom, that was remarkably unchanged, though the mess of toys was replaced by a sensible desk, lined with papers and books.

He stood in front of that, taking a tac and pushing it into the paper, pinning it to the wall.

I leaned against the banister of his doorway, crossing my arms, "Whatcha doing?"

He turned to me, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, "I want it here, where we will be constantly reminded that this is something that has to get done, and will get done." Pausing, he peered at the list, "What the fuck is whack shit Alice?"

I flushed, "I wanted thirteen and couldn't think of anything better- besides Ryder, I won't be in your room that often!"

He winked, "Yeah you will be."

I made a face at him, "Ryder I've known you my entire life, your charms aren't going to work on me."

His eyes were trained on the list as he read it through, his finger coming to rest on a point, "Well Alice, I'm beyond flattered- I'm on here," he chuckled and I rolled my eyes. "I'm having a party this Saturday, come."