Chapter 16: 16: Not Slow, Not Steady, and Definitely Not Clueless

16: Not Slow, Not Steady, and Definitely Not Clueless

I woke up, but I knew something was different.

It was actually quiet.

There was not a single person screaming this morning, there was not any sound of things breaking or people pushing each other.

There was, however, a new addition in my room.

I rolled over to see the person who was sleeping on the floor. His t-shirt had ridden up to reveal part of his midriff, one of his hand was tucked under his head as a replacement of pillow, revealing a muscled, ripped bicep that I was so sure had sent people to hospital. Soft snore was coming out from his slightly agape mouth, and his black eyelashes were so long it almost swept over his cheek.

“You’ve been awake,” I intoned to Ryder Black.

He opened his eyes, there was a slight shock on his face, but then when he spoke, I heard amusement. “How do you know?”

I pointed at his mop of black locks. “Your hair. It’s intentionally messy, not the authentic bed-head.”

Ryder’s cheeks pinked. “It’s not that different.”

But it was, it definitely was. I had been watching Ryder styling his hair in his room for way too long, so it was impossible for me to not know how he did his hair. He also could never sleep if his shirt didn’t cover his whole torso, either. It had been that way since he was a little kid.

But of course, I wasn’t able to tell him that, because the moment I opened my mouth, he got up and stuck his face inches away from mine.

He knew exactly how to mute me when he wanted to.

“How were you sleeping?” he asked me with a low voice.

“Good. I dreamt of Oompa Loompas and chocolate waterfall,” I said, staring into his very dark brown eyes. “The color of your eyes is the same with the color of the chocolate waterfall.”

He tugged the end of his lips into a slight smirk.  His pupils dilated, and I was sure that someone with a weaker will than mine would have drown in the neverending galaxy of chocolate that was inside his eyes. “Is it?”

His closeness bothered me a bit, but I still managed to nod my head.

“It’s a peaceful day, today,” he said.

As soon as he said it, I could hear the birds chirping, as if to put emphasis on his statement even more.

“Because you’re not home,” I whispered. “That’s why there’s no fight.”

“I’m sorry that I can’t provide your family the daily entertainment.”

“I’ll pass that to Mom. She always says that the intrigue of your family’s fights makes everything on TVs dull and boring.”

Ryder snorted a chuckle. “You have a way with words, Kitten.”

“Am I pissing you off?”

“Huh?”

“You called me ‘Kitten’ again, not my name. Was I out of line with my comment? Am I pissing you off?”

Ryder never answered this. He just smiled, got up, and climbed down my room.

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Marcy and Corrine were on a roll this afternoon.

“Nuclear power is good for America. Nuclear Energy is an exceptional energy source that can greatly benefit the entire population of the United States. Nuclear energy is completely clean, a very inexpensive fuel source. Also, nuclear power is almost inexhaustible, since the world reserves of uranium could produce energy to meet the demands of human power consumption for 1,980,000 years.” Marcy said in a very calm, very calculated manner, as if she hadn’t just talking about bombs.

“The thing is, Marcy, The nuclear industry is full of deceit and propaganda. Nuclear power and nuclear materials are dangerous. Personnel that do not tell the truth regarding risks, sickness and the number of deaths associated with nuclear power and materials in the United States compromise nuclear safety and security.” Corrine retorted with manner that was as similarly calm and collected as her best friend. I could tell that Corrine was grasping at straws, though, given the fact that she kept rolling the hem of her sweater.

“Yes, yes, good point, but then you forget something, which is-“ Marcy started rambling on how Nuclear was made and the ingredients and how it somehow could save a lot of people, which was very contradictory considering that Nuclear was supposed to blow people up.

This time, Corrine had texted me that we were going to have a ‘little talk’ about Nuclear yesterday. I was supposed to sit down and learn about anything that I needed to learn so that I could partake in their idea of little talk, but then I was too busy taking care of Ryder to do so.

As the flame in their debate blazed on, I could only sip on my Grapefruit juice.  I mentally reminded myself to study what they were going to talk about when there was a next time.

They kept on talking, oblivious to everything that was around us (including me), before then Marcy suddenly tapped my shoulder. I could smell the heavy scent of coconut wafted from her hair. “So what do you think, April? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“I think Nuclear is bad,” I said. “Nuclear kills tons people.”

“See?” Marcy said triumphantly at Corrine. “That’s what I meant by ‘Contradiction’.”

It took me quite a while to understand that she was insinuating that killing tons of people was actually a good thing.

I could tell that both girls were eager to resume their hot debate, but then as we walked past the school yard, there was a little commotion going on at Football practice. People were actually running up to see whatever was happening there, and quite a few had started to take out their phones and started to record.

“Oh no,” Marcy chewed her lips.

“What? What happened?”

“Did you or did you not hear that Ryder ‘melt-my-heart’ Black is joining the football club?” Marcy filled me in.

I knew too much of that. I was the true witness of Ryder’s sudden recruitment.

“I mean, with Quentin being the captain and all, it will be a bad time for both of them,” Corrine paused for a bit. “I should blog about this. ‘Popular Jock VS Brooding Bad boy’. It can be the start of a good yaoi.”

“Ugh, Corrine,” I grimaced because I certainly didn’t like imagining my brother going all lovey-dovey towards Ryder. Plus, I could already tell from how Corrine looked at the field that she was having all sort of crazy imagination concerning my brother and Ryder.  And not the kind of imaginations that I preferred.

“Sorry, April. Can’t help if the men in your life are too beautiful,” she grinned. “Now can we take a look too, so that I can have an easier time daydreaming about their hot, steamy wrestling?”

It took us a while to get through the crowd, especially since everyone was too keen to not let us through and a lot of them were much of bigger stature of us. After I could see what was actually happening, I kind of wished that I didn’t put so much efforts into this.

Because I saw Quentin and Ryder trying their best to do what they do best: fighting each other.

I wasn’t even sure how it started. Must be something simple like an accidental push or something of the like. But both Quentin and Ryder was easily angered, especially to each other. Right now, both of them were on the ground, with Quentin on top of Ryder and Ryder desperately grasping Quentin’s hair.

To be totally honest, they fought very femininely.

“What is it about?” I could hear someone asked to particularly no one.

“The usual,” a guy with his camera phone ready answered. “Q pushed Freak when he ran, and it rubbed Freak the wrong way.”

“His name is not ‘Freak’” I muttered.

Both Quentin and Ryder were still brawling on the  grounds, and even though there was an eager chant telling them to fight, they seemed oblivious about it. Ryder’s movement looked awkward with the shoulder-pad and helm, but I was sure that with that much padding, none of them could do any real harm to each other, anyway.

I could spot Andrew’s blonde buzz cut from far away, and as soon as he saw me, he ran over to me.

“They’re at it again,” he said.

“Can’t you guys separate them?” I asked him.

“Eh,” Andrew gave a glance to the wrestling boys. “I’d love to, but both Ryder and Quentin pack mean punches.”

“Come on, Q! Give the Freak the lessons he deserves!” the guy who was filming them was yelling.

“His name is not ‘Freak’” I muttered again.

“What did you say?” Andrew scooted closer to me.

Quentin headbutted Ryder hard, and lots of the viewers cheered. Even Corrine. He was the definite favorite in this school.

“Yeah! Take it, Freak!” the very same guy said the word again. I didn’t know who he was, which meant that he wasn’t in Quentin’s circle of friends. He also didn’t look like the kind of guys that Quentin would befriend, with his long greasy hair and lanky build. In fact, he looked like the kind of person that Quentin and his friends would likely bully. But despite not being good friends with Quentin, he sure looked like he was rooting all that he got for Quentin.

I walked up to him and tried to get his attention by waving my hand towards him.

He didn’t notice and kept screaming towards the fighting boys.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh yes!” the guy screamed when Quentin took a jab on Ryder’s cheek. “Oh no!” he screamed again when it was Ryder’s turn to land his knuckle on Quentin’s cheek.

“Excuse me?”

“What?” he didn’t even look at me, his eyes still focused on his cellphone. I could see from the screen that both Quentin and Ryder were showing clear signs of being exhausted now.

“His name is not ‘Freak’,” I told him as politely as I could.

“I can’t hear you.”

“His name is not ‘Freak’.”

“Whatever.”

“Ryder is not a freak,” I said. I could care less if Quentin and Ryder were punching each other, because I knew both of them wouldn’t be hurting each other that much. Both Quentin and Ryder had stronger and vicious enemies, after all. But then I really didn’t like this type of talking, because even though words like these couldn’t physically hurt Ryder, it hurt him in a different way. “He’s just really troubled at home, and he doesn’t really know how to connect with the students in this school, and he does know how to make friends, but not with you guys.”

“And why should I care about that?” he still didn’t look at me and still resumed the recording.

“C’mon, man,” suddenly, Andrew was already behind me. I didn’t know what kind of magic that Andrew had with him, but for some reason the greasy-haired guy suddenly looked at our direction, whereas before I could be dancing with a horse-mask and he wouldn’t even care.

“A-A-Andrew! Andrew, my man!” the guy curled his fist and held it in the air, probably hoping for Andrew to pump their fists together.

Andrew seemed not to notice the open invitation for a fist-pump and instead only looked at him intently. “Are you filming this?”

“It’s going straight on youtube,” Greasy-Hair said. He attempted to grin, but then he looked more like he was constipated instead. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch all Q’s good angles.”

Andrew stepped around me and then grabbed Greasy-Hair by the collar. “Listen, fucktard,” he spat. “You’re going to delete that video or I’ll be smacking your phone under my feet. You hear me?”

“B-But… b-b-but…but…”

“You hear me?!” Andrew surprised me by actually looking scary right there. All this time, he had never shown this kind of face in front of me. He always looked gentle, docile even, especially when Quentin was around. But then with his all-american boy looks and a body type that resembled a comic superhero, he actually looked quite menacing when screaming.

“Y-Yes, Yes.”

Andrew was so at it, and Greasy-Hair was so conforming to everything that Andrew said, and thus I couldn’t help it. I leant in towards Andrew, stood at the tip of my shoes, and then whispered to him.

“Don’t forget to tell him that Ryder’s name is not ‘Freak’.”

Andrew didn’t seem to catch it. “Come again?”

“Tell him that Ryder’s name is not ‘Freak’.”

I saw Andrew pausing at my request, but then he started screaming my statement word by word to Greasy-Hair, who was in the verge of crying while nodding yes.

“And I’m taking your phone,” Andrew said before he pushed Greasy-Hair away from the crowd. “I’ll give it back after you’re done washing all my sport shoes.”

I was pretty sure that Andrew had just given Greasy-Hair the absolute nightmare of his life, given the wet spot on his crotch that started to spread all around his pants.

“You are a great bully,” I told him honestly.

Andrew only looked at me forlornly. “Yeah, well. It’s part of the unwritten rule of being a jock in high school.”

“Ah yes. The same rules applies to me. I’m not smart at all but I have to get A's to fulfill my nerdy duties,” I said, grinning to him.

Andrew smiled back at me. I kind of missed him because Andrew was so nice to me, and he never let me feel uncomfortable, save for that one time in which we got lost to another continent. We were on the front line of the crowd, and we could see that both Quentin and Ryder was already too tired to fight properly.

Right now, all they did was lying next to each other while saying obligatory profanities to make them sound menacing.

“Your face looks like duck poodle, fuck face,” Quentin panted.

“I’m still better looking than you,” Ryder’s retort came quickly. “And you should re-dye your hair. Your blonde roots are showing.”

“Fuck, get away from me, you homo.”

“You’re the homo.”

The lack of violence seemed to make the crowds lose interest in them, and the lines of people started to thin until there were only only the footballers, a few people, and me and Andrew.

Oh. And Marcy and Corrine were standing frozen behind me, because Andrew and pretty much all of Quentin's jock friends had an effect akin to Medusa’s glare when they were around them.

“Just get them off each other,” Andrew said to his jock friends, before then he led me away from the battlefield.

“So what do you think?” Andrew asked me. “Your brother fighting your neighbor until the very last drop.”

“I’d much prefer if they’re bestfriends any day,” I said. We were quiet for a few moments, and I watched Quentin refusing help from his friends and got up on his own. That was when I remembered the thing that both Quentin and Ryder told me about being mean to Andrew.

“Andrew, am I being mean to you?”

There was a pregnant pause as Andrew considered this. “Well. You kinda hurt me a bit, but I totally understand. I mean, it’s such a turn off if a guy can’t even drive or memorize streets properly.”

There was another pause as we watched both Ryder and Quentin got up. Both of them still managed to shoot each other ominous glare, but then both decided that they’d walk separate ways. Quentin nodded at me as he wiped his mouth, before then he limped towards his friends.

As for Ryder, he walked towards me and Andrew’s direction. One of his shoulder pads were very off, and there were lots of tear around his clothes. When he bypassed me, I could hear him whisper, “Sorry for punching your brother again. He’s just such a major… asshole.”

Ryder shot a look at Andrew, before then he looked at me again, the intensity of his brown eyes burning my sight “Can you forgive me?”

I couldn’t really trust my voice, so I only nodded slightly. This already appeased Ryder, though, and he walked away from us.

Andrew and I watched him leave, before then I could hear him saying,

“You know what, April. Maybe I should talk to your brother. Cut Ryder some slack at practice.”

“Really?” I was surprised at his sudden epiphany. “You would really do that? Why?”

There was a wry smile on Andrew’s lips. “Because, you know, as much as I hate saying it, I think you like Ryder Black.”

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Later that day, I got a text from Ryder sending me a picture of a big-blue-eyed kitten he found from the internet.

Under it, there was a message:

This is a Kitten.

Kitten (noun) : definition

1. a cute, adorable, innocent creature that makes me feel all sort of funny thing in my stomach whenever I think of her.

2. what you look like sometimes

3. scientifically? a small cat

P.s: in case you don’t get it, Kitten. I don’t call you ‘Kitten’ because I’m pissed at you.

Both Marcy and Corrine were dying to see what I had gotten for my text, because girls like us, nobody texted us aside from telephone operators or pizza companies offering some discounts. I managed to hide my phone from them, because for some reason, I didn’t want to share Ryder’s text with them. It diminished the meaning if both of them saw it, and it wouldn’t be private anymore.

But then I found myself reading his text over and over and over again, to the point where I forgot to pay attention to the class lecture. It was actually the first time I didn’t note down what the teacher say word per word. I nearly cried when I got home afterwards because all I got on my notebook were the things that were on the whiteboard.

But Ryder wasn’t pissed at me. And even though he hated my brother, he didn’t hate me.

He still thought that I was cute, adorable, and innocent.

Maybe Andrew was right.

Maybe I liked Ryder, after all.

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Heyaa guys :) I finally changed the title to The Quirky Tale of April Hale. The reason is stated on my profile. I'm really grateful for all of your support that I decided to give you guys a SURPRISE.

Since Ryder is going to stay on April's room for quite a long time (hence the previous title), there will be TONS of Ryder/April moment. Tons. of little things that happened in all those hours locked up inside a room. I don't think I'll be able to write all of these little moments without sacrificing the plot of the story, so I'll make a separate section to it.

****READ THIS BECAUSE THIS IS THE IMPORTANT PART*****

For each chapter of The Quirky Tale of April Hale, there will be a small short-story section called 'The Bad Boy Lives in My Room'. It will contain April and Ryder's interaction within April's room. Hell, it might even feature Ryder's POV. It can be funny, sad, cute, whatever. Just what goes into my mind.

So, let's enjoy the first installment of

THE BAD BOY LIVES IN MY ROOM

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i. Breakfast

“‘That’s a lot of food that you stuff on your plate, April,” my father remarked.

I nearly jumped on his observation, particularly because of how true it was. Both of my parents knew that I didn’t have a strong stomach at the morning, especially since today was Monday, and hence everything had to include Carbs on it. I even betrayed myself and put a couple of eggs on it.

I never eat eggs on Mondays.

My mother seemed to notice it, too. “Look at you. You altered your food schedule.”

“Yes,” it pained me to say so. “The eggs look… nice. Today. Yellow.”

Mom put a hand on her chest as she started to smile her motherly smile. “Oh, April. So can I cook some pasta tomorrow? I know that you’d prefer eating only dairy products on Tuesdays, but seeing  that eggs on Monday…”

I was chewing on my bottom lip the whole time she spoke. I really didn’t want to screw my eating schedule. I had been following it religiously for years! But then there was a boy upstairs, inside my room, and he did look like he needed a lot of carbohydrate to satiate his hunger.

“S-S-Sure, Mom,” I stuttered. “Pasta will b-be good.”

Quentin and Dad both looked at each other with a knowing smile, as if they had just accomplished something.

“Can I have breakfast in my room?” I asked them.

They were all far too happy to notice that I never bring my food to my room. I tiptoed upstairs, and as soon as I opened the door, Ryder was standing right in front of me, his eyes were hungry and his mouth slightly agape. He looked at the plate on my hand and I could see his adam apple’s bobbled.

I knew he was hungry. He hadn't eaten his dinner last night.

“It’s fried rice,” Ryder intoned hoarsely. “With eggs.”

“You can take both eggs,” I told him.

The look that Ryder had on his face was what I would call ‘orgasmic’, courtesy of Animal Planet. "Gosh, April. How can i live without you?"

Ryder didn't know about this, but thorough the whole day, I was too busy replaying the sentence he'd thrown at me to listen to other things.

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Thank you for reading. :) Please don't forget to vote, fan, comment, whatever. Thank you!