The Secrets We Keep (Formally WAIT)

Chapter 23

I walked into the house in a bit of a daze thinking about how I, Lyssa Richter, just spent time with Ryder in his BEDROOM. And he wasn't a total ass hat. I mean sort of but like, wow. This is so crazy. I need to get a grip on things because if he ends up telling someone about this I'm in some serious sh*t. Avery will probably kill me.

Of course, Darren would be home and waiting when I entered. He was sitting on the sofa with a beer in his hand staring at a sports game playing on the tv.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked not bothering to look my direction.

"I know you didn't have work," he said glancing my way.

"I was working on a school project with a friend," I say turning to go to my bedroom.

"Wait," he says gruffly.

I stop and see him licking his lips as he looks at me. I shudder in disgust and wish he'd hurry up already.

"Where's you check?"

"What?" I ask confused.

"Your c-he-c-k. Where is it? I need some money."

Shocked I don't respond until he stands up and starts to walk towards me.

"I haven't gotten paid yet." I say nervously. God, Lyssa, could you sound any less convincing. I try to keep from making any direct eye contact and instead study the tv behind him. There's a commercial on about some chewing gum and a guy falling in love with a girl. Ugh, like that actually would happen in real life.

"Don't roll your eyes at me you little bitch." Great, now I really just fucked up.

"Apologize," he tells me like I'm a two year old.

"Sorry," I say still not meeting his eyes.

He pushes me into the corner of the wall knocking me backwards and making me hit my head. My backpack slides off of my shoulder and onto the floor. I groan in pain and hold the back of my head that is not throbbing.

"Oh please, that didn't really hurt."

"Pick up your bag bitch." I bend over to grab a strap only to be kicked in the side. I grip the wall for balance and straighten up slowly.

"You're such a fuck up, look what you made me do," he says pointing to his spilled beer on the floor.

"Clean this up and go make me something to eat."

With that he turned around and sat back on the sofa. I grab some paper towels to wipe up the small puddle of beer on the floor and return to the kitchen. I boil some water and throw some pasta in. I wait the eleven minutes until it is done and drain the water. Looking through the pantry, I find a jar of sauce and throw it in the pot. I mix it up and scoop some into two bowls. One for me, and the other for him. I hand him his bowl with a fork and napkin and run out the room before he can say anything. Luckily, he was far too focused on the game to pay me any attention. I grab my bowl of food and my backpack and head to my room.

I slump onto the floor of my room and kick of my converse. My head aches but I know that it could've been worse, and his kick was relatively soft. As I eat my food, I scroll through my twitter feed. While reading a thread about Shawn Mendes, my screen changes to FaceTime and a picture of Becca pops up. I swipe the screen to accept her call and says hi through a mouth full of pasta.

"HI!" she screams excitedly. I'll never get used to her high amount of energy. She's like on a permanent sugar high. I laugh and take note of her surroundings. She's sprawled out on her bed lying on her stomach and I can see her headboard behind her and her pink painted walls.