6

Before

Ryder

You ever get that feeling when you open your eyes first thing in the morning and you just know it's going to be a shit day?

It's not like I was dreading anything today, I had classes and then a Halloween party with the girls later. Today was supposed to be an easy day. But from the moment I opened my eyes this morning, something just felt off.

I awoke with an overwhelming desire to stay in bed. I wish I would've just listened to that instinct.

Classes were easy, but I got called in for a last minute shift at the cafe. The customers were rude and demanding, we were short staffed and I spilled an entire canister of cold brew on my brand new shoes. By the time I had made it back to my dorm, my leggings had dried and had to be peeled off. I realized I was out of conditioner in the shower, my hair brush was missing in action, and my Edward Scissorhands costume ripped as I pulled it on.

I was so defeated, so ready to call it quits on the day but the girls insisted I throw something together and come out with them. So I grabbed some of Brooklyn's leftover make up from her Bride of Frankenstein costume and did a quick skeleton look.

I was grateful for my variety of black clothes and styled a mesh shirt with a mini skirt and pair of Mary Jane docs. I gathered my curls into a messy bun and pulled some pieces loose to frame my face.

I sighed heavily and looked at myself in the mirror.

It will have to do.

I grab my phone from the charger and meet the girls in the main room. Brooklyn is pouring shots into little candy corn shot glasses, Jasmine is putting her finishing touches on her Clawdeen costume and Laila is a zombified beauty queen scrolling on her phone.

"Ooo see I knew you'd pull something together, you look great," Brooklyn cooed as she glanced up at me.

Jasmine tore her gaze from her reflection to look at me and her brows shot up.

"Shit, you did that all by yourself? It looks amazing," Jasmine agrees.

"Thanks, I love your costumes as well. I'm kind of a lowkey monster high fan, I'm mad that that show came out after it was no longer socially acceptable for me to watch it or play with dolls."

"Ugh, seriously. That show was so cute, I used to watch it with my little sisters all the time," jasmine pouted at the memory.

Brooklyn handed Jasmine and I shot before stopping in front of Laila. Laila's been glued to her phone most of the night.

Brooklyn cleared her throat and nudged Laila's knee.

"Come on beauty queen, let's take these shots so we can head out," Brooklyn insisted.

Laila glanced up from her phone and her eyes widened as she looked at all of us.

"Shit, I didn't realize you guys were ready," she admits.

Her eyes flicker down at her phone and her brows knitted together. She sighs heavily and locks it.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

She plastered an exaggerated smile on her face and nodded.

"Yes, I'm great. Now let's take these shots."

Laila stood up and grabbed the shot from Brooklyn. We each brought the shot glass to our lips and exchanged a look before downing the shot. The liquor's bitterness contradicted the syrupy sweet aroma.

My nose wrinkled as my eyes screwed shut.

"Shit, this is gross," Laila grimaced.

"Seriously," Jasmine groaned.

"Hey, I flirted my ass off for this vodka, you guys," Brooklyn remarked.

"Clearly not enough, this is rough," I shudder.

Brooklyn rolls her eyes and places her shot glass down.

"Whatever, I'm sure it'll still do the trick. Let's head out, I'm sure they'll have better options there."

Laila shakes her head and laughs dryly.

"Shit, I sure hope so."

The walk to the party wasn't far and consisted of laughter and gossip. I could already feel my mood lightening and was so grateful for that.

The house was decked out with fog machines, strobe lights and spider webs. Thriller blasted from inside the house, the front yard full of sexy witches, dead cheerleaders, and sulking vampires.

Jasmine squeezed my arm excitedly as we stepped in.

"Fuck, our first Halloween party at Lennox. It's going to be a great night, I can feel it," she beamed.

"I sure hope so," I replied as my eyes traveled the room. The space was completely transformed, the walls covered with more spider webs and distressed cloth. There was a dj booth with tombstones, a coffin and a skeleton made to look like a dj. The inside of the house was only lit with black lights, giving it an eerie glow.

"Shit, it looks so cool in here," Brooklyn beams.

"Let's go raid the kitchen for drinks," Laila suggests to Jasmine and tugs her along in the opposite direction.

Time Warp starts to blare through the speakers and Brooklyn's eyes practically pop out of her head.

"Let's go dance, I love this song," she insists.

Brooklyn tugs on my arm and nods toward the open space in the living room.

She pulls me into the crowd before I can say anything and starts jerking her body to upbeat tempo. I guess one could consider it dancing. She earns some weird looks from others around us but doesn't seem to mind one bit.

Her indifference is infectious and I join in, jumping around to the song.

She smiles at me brightly and grabs my hands as we continue to bounce to the song. We continue to dance as the song shifts to Maneater and then She Wolf.

"Ugh, they're playing all the classics tonight," Brooklyn shouted over the music.

"By they, do you mean the skeleton?" I shouted back and nodded towards the booth.

She giggled and nodded.

"I think I caught his last set at Coachella, the guys a legends," she jokes and winks at me.

I laughed at her joke and grabbed her wrist. All of this dancing was making me thirsty. I needed a drink asap.

"Ugh, I'm thirsty. Lets grab a drink and then go find Jas and Laila," I insist.

She nods and hooks her arm through mine. She pushes through the crowd, her grip tight on me as we make our way towards the kitchen.

The kitchen is surprisingly crowded and smoky. Brooklyn pushes past a mummy and bunny sucking each others faces off and stops at the table of liquor.

"Shit, we got much better choices here," Brooklyn admits as her eyes scan the table.

She drops my arm and runs her fingers over the various bottles.

She looks at me out of the corner of her eyes and grins wickedly.

"Do you trust me Ry?"

"Hmm, that depends. How crazy are you trying to get tonight?"

"Eh, not to crazy," she responds but I can see the gleam in her eye.

I narrow my eyes at her as I debate it. I wanna let loose and have fun but I'm such a lightweight. I don't drink all that much and the last thing I want to do is get messy at our first big party. First impressions matter and I don't want to be remembered as the girl who got blackout drunk and streaked through the front yard.

"Nothing strong please, you know I don't drink much."

She nods.

"Of course, you know I would never do you dirty. Just something to loosen us up a little," she reasons and turns her attention back to the liquor.

I watch her in silence as she makes her own little nifty cocktail. She glances at me and extends the cup for me. I grab it from her and eye it hesitantly. It smelled divine, you could barely smell the liquor so I'll give her that.

"Taste it, it's good, I promise," Brooklyn insist.

I bring the cup to my lips and I'm pleasantly surprised at how good it taste.

"Wow, that's actually pretty good," I compliment and take another sip.

She beams proudly.

"See? I told you I wouldn't do you dirty. It's just the right amount to give you a buzz but not taste like ass."

I nod and take another sip.

"Good, let me just make mine and we can go find the girls."

After she finished her drink, we walked hand in hand and scanned the crowd for Laila and Jasmine. We weaved through bodies as we went room to room looking for them but couldn't seem to find them. We gave up, finished our drinks and made our way back to the dance floor.

With the liquor moving freely through my system, I found myself loosening up. I closed my eyes and danced to the music, finding myself getting lost in it. A few songs go by and I look over my shoulder to see Brooklyn making out with some guy dressed as Frankenstein. I pause for a moment as I watch them in confusion. I don't know if she actually knew this guy and planned on matching him or if it was just kismet, but they seemed pretty hardcore into one another. I glance over my shoulder to see if I can spot Laila or Jasmine but still come up empty.

I turn back to Brooklyn.

"Hey, I'm going to go get another drink," I shout over the music, "I'll be right back."

I'm unsure if she hears me at first but then I see her give me a thumbs up.

I turn on my heels and make my way back towards the kitchen. There are way less options at this point, most of the liquors been consumed. There also isn't anything to chase it with or mix it with. I bite my lip and pick up a bottle of tequila.

I'm not sure I've ever had tequila but I'm sure it couldn't be that bad. I pour myself out what I estimate to be a shot but it might end up being just a bit more.

I took a generous gulp and winced, almost choking as the liquid burned my throat.

"Fuck," I hissed as I look down at the cup.

I debate tossing it down the sink but I don't want to waste it, especially not in front of all of these people.

I weave through the crowd and attempt to make my way back towards Brooklyn but the crowd seems to have doubled in size. People are jumping around and thrashing about as Shots blare through the speakers. It's starts to get hot and I can feel sweat running down my back. I beeline for the first door I can and head outback.

The cold night air is refreshing and I sigh with relief. There groups of people gathered around the yard, sitting on lawn chairs and bean bags. I walk over to an empty spot near the side of the house and take a seat. I glance down at the liquor in my cup and quickly shoot it back. It burns less this time and I'm grateful for that. My body's warm and fuzzy and I can feel a smile tug at the corner of my lips.

I look upward at the night sky and find myself getting lost in the stars. I'm unsure of how much time passes by but I'm brought back to reality when I feel my phone buzzing in my bag.

I quickly retrieve it, assured it's one of the girls calling me.

But my blood runs cold when I read the caller ID.

Mom

I stare down at the phone frozen in horror. I haven't spoken to my mom since the day before I left. She called me twice about a week after I left and sent a simple Where are you? text. I never responded and she hadn't reached out since.

Not even on the anniversary of my fathers death.

What could she possibly want? Why is she calling me now?

I watch it ring and ring until it finally stops. I let out a sharp breath I hadn't even realized I was holding.

I stare at my phone, afraid it'll ring again but it doesn't. She does, however, leave a voicemail.

I hesitantly clicked on it and held the phone up to my ear.

There's a pregnant pause before I hear her. Her voice was taut and thin, she sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

"Ry, Ryder, I need you to call me. I- this silence has gone on for too long. You can't do this to me, you can't just leave me here. You just up and left without saying anything, it's fucked up. I would never do this to you Ry, I love you too much. I know I haven't been the best mother the last few years but I'm still your mother. I- I would never leave you like this, act as if you didn't exist. I, you left me here to die, do you even care? I'm going to die-"

I drop the phone from my ear and quickly delete the voicemail. There was another minute left but I couldn't listen to it. Tears pooled in my eyes and I dropped my phone into my lap. I stared at a spot on the ground, my jaw clenched as I silently begged the tears not to fall.

I didn't want to cry, not here, not now and certainly not over her.

I feel a single tear spill down my cheek as I hear a familiar voice from behind me.

"Shit, I was wondering when I was going to run into you. What are you doing out here all alone?"

His voice seems light, playful.

I glance at him out through my peripheral vision and try to wipe away the tears without smudging my makeup. He plops down next to me and shifts towards me.

"Just getting some air," I say quickly and turn my head from him. I blink aggressively to keep the tears at bay and pray he doesn't notice them.

He shifts beside me and moves to take a seat in front of me.

"Shit, I love your makeup, it looks sick-" he begins to compliment but stop once he notices my glassy eyes.

"Ry, you alright?" He asked cautiously.

I quickly nod and sniffle, wiping my nose with my sleeve.

"Yeah, I'm good," I mutter.

He leans forward to get a better look at me and he softens.

"Ry, are you sure? You look... look at me," he says softly.

I raise my eyes to finally look at him and my brows draw together as I take in his costume. He's in a fitted black shirt with tears in it, black jeans and a leather jacket. His face is painted white and there's black circles around his eyes and black lipstick smudged around his lips. His dark, silky hair falls in his face.

I purse my lips as it clicks together in my head.

"Wait, are you Crow from The Crow?"

His worried eyes brighten and he smiles again.

"Shit, you're the first person all night to guess that correctly. How'd you know?"

"It's one of my favorites, the 1994 one specifically with Brandon Lee. The others are... eh I don't really acknowledge they exist," I confess.

He nods and laughs.

"Agreed, the 1994 one is the only one that truly matters. It's one of my favorites as well, sad when you realize the sad story behind it," Zayn acknowledges.

"I know, I remember having the biggest crush on him after watching it and trying to google him to see what else he was in. My little thirteen year old heart broke for the first time that day."

He smiles coyly and cocks his head.

"So in turn, one could assume you'd find me attractive, yeah? I mean I did a pretty solid job at recreating this look," he charms and motions to his costume.

I'm grateful for the layers of makeup because I know I'm blushing hard right now.

I bite my lip to suppress a smile but fail miserably. I look him over and nod slowly.

"One could say this look is working for you,"I agree.

His eyes lighten and he grins.

"Noted," he chuckled.

It's quiet for a moment between us, his deep amber eyes piercing into mine.He cocks his head again and eyes me carefully, clearly not ready to move on from the state he had found me in.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asks.

I glance around at the people scattered in the backyard and the crowd of people singing obnoxiously inside.

I look back at him and shrug.

"You wanna get out of here?"

He smiles softly and nods. He stands up and extends a hand for me. I grab onto him, electric shocks shooting through my veins and rise to my feet.

I send the girls a quick text saying I'm heading back to the dorms and follow him around the side of the house.

Zayn lived in the upper classmen dorms on the other side of campus. It wasn't too far of a walk from the party but far enough for me to figure out how I wanted tonight to go.

I wanted to talk to someone about the shit going on with my mom but I didn't want to scare him away. From all I had heard from him over the weeks, he had a relatively normal upbringing. His parents were still together and madly in love. His older sisters were successful and supportive, his father was grooming him to come into the family business and Laila was the stereotypical baby of the family. They had family dinners often, went on vacations together all of the time and even sent out customized holiday cards every year.

My family and past came with baggage, and I wasn't sure if it would scare him off or not. I didn't want to ruin the idea he had of me in his head.

His dorm was exactly what you'd expect with two other men living in it. Soccer gear, shoes and books scattered the foyer. It smelled of weed and cologne and seemed very...lived in.

"Shit, I'm sorry it's a mess. My roommates are... pigs," he sighs as he glances around the living room.

There's a pile of video games that seemed to be stacked on the coffee table at one point but got knocked over into the floor. An empty pizza box peaked out from underneath the coffee table and a pair of dirty socks were balled up ontop of it.

"It's okay," I say softly but I can't tear my eyes from the mess.

He grabs my shoulders and guides me to his room down the hall.

"It's not," he sighed, "they promised they'd clean this shit up before they left. I love them but they're so messy, it's drives me mad sometimes."

He flicks on his lights and his room is a complete contrast of the rest of the apartment. It's clean, for one, cleaner then I would've expected. It smells like his cologne and fresh laundry. The walls have posters scattered on them, in no particular fashion. His bed is made, he does in fact have a stack of Stephen king novels on his nightstand, and there's a few medals and trophies on a bookshelf.

"Wow," I blurt out loud as I turn in a circle to examine his room.

I can feel the drinks catching up to me as the motion makes me dizzy. My foot catches on his rug and I fall forward.

His arms wrap around me and catches me before I hit the floor.

"Shit, you good Ry?" He asks with a chuckle.

I nod and quickly recover. I take a step back from him, knowing better than to even dare look at him when we're this close.

I know we've been hanging out more often over the past few weeks, typically at the arcade or the fields after practice. But I didn't know how to read him. I didn't know what it all meant.

I still observed him with other girls on campus and he seemed so confident and smooth with them. You could feel the mutual attraction.

I don't know if I could say the same for us. I don't want to get our signals crossed or read into something that's not there.

"I like it in here, it's ...clean."

He laughs again and takes a seat on his bed. He removes his boots and gets up to place them neatly in his closet. I kick my shoes off and place them next to his.

"Thanks, I try."

My eyes fall on his record player on top of his dresser and the stack of vinyls next to it. I walk over to them and trail my fingers over the titles as I read them.

He's got some interesting taste, ranging from 90s to 2000s R&B, some old school rap, some Jhene Aiko and Frank Ocean. My eyes light up when I see Gregory Issacs and Bob Marley.

"Fuck, you listen to reggae? Why did you fail to mention this?"

I turned to find him sitting back on his bed, leather jacket discarded and watching me.

"You listen to reggae too?" He asks.

I nod and beam at him.

"Yes, it's all my dad used to play on the weekends. First thing in the morning, I'd wake up to it sometimes."

He leans forward and rubs his hands on his jeans.

"Would you like to listen to it now?"

"Yes please," I say excitedly.

He grins and rises from the bed. He walks over and grabs the vinyl from me. He turns on the record player and removes the vinyl from its cover. I watch as he places it down carefully and turns it on. Night Nurse starts to play through the speakers and I hum with approval.

"Wow, it's been so long," I say, more to myself as I realize I hadn't listened to this song since my dads passing.

I take a seat on his bed and lay back, staring up at the ceiling as I listen to Gregory's smooth voice.

"I'll be right back," Zayn announced and turned to leave the room.

He was gone for only a few minutes before he reappeared, his face wiped clean and his jeans replaced with sweats. I sit up and pout.

"Hey, why'd you change? I loved your costume."

He grins and hands me a warm, damp rag.

"Yeah, I'm sure you did. As fun as it was to remind you of your first love, I can only wear makeup for so long before it starts to irritate my skin. I don't know how you ladies do it," he teases.

I shrug and bring the rag to my face and rub at my lips.

"Haha, you get used to it. I promise."

He shakes his head and lays back on the bed.

"Nah, I don't think I want to."

I chuckle and keep wiping at my face, trying my best to remove all of the makeup without looking in a mirror.

I turn to find him with his eyes closed, his foot tapping to the beat.

"Hey, did I get it all?" I ask and nudge his knee with mine.

He opens his eyes and they widen. He laughs and shakes his head as he sits up.

"You absolutely did not, you look insane," he laughs.

I pout again and he grabs the rag from me.

"Here, let me help," he offers.

He's incredibly close for comfort, my breath hitching in my throat as he cups my chin with one hand and gently rubs the rag along my jawline. The both of us are quiet as he focuses on removing every last smudge of makeup.

I take notice of the specks of green in his eyes and a tiny little freckle next to his iris.

"Much better," he says and sits back..

He tosses the rag into a laundry basket and turns back towards me.

When his eyes find mine again, they're softer and sympathetic.

"Do you wanna talk about it? I mean what happened earlier?"

My eyes dropped to my folded hands in my lap and I shrugged.

"Maybe, I don't know. It's complicated," I sigh.

He leans forward and places a hand on my knee. His palm is warm and smooth, and my skin tingles beneath it. I resist the urge to pull my leg away, not because I'm not enjoying it but because I'm afraid I enjoy it too much.

"You don't have too, if you're not comfortable. I just was a bit worried, I don't think I've ever seen you so...glum."

"Glum," I repeat and laugh.

"Is that not the right word?"

I gaze back up at him and shake my head.

"No, I'm sorry. It's just, my brain is a little frazzled and I think my drinks are catching up to me," I explain.

He smiles softly as he pats my knee and then places his hand back in his lap.

I lay back on his bed and stare up at the ceiling. He follows suit and lays flat on his back. His arm brushes against mine in the process and another shiver shoots down my spine. We're quiet for a moment as I debate whether I want to say anything about my mom or not. It's not like I can simply say I don't speak to my mom without going down that rabbit hole.

"My mom called me tonight, for the first time in months and she left a really weird voicemail," I confess.

My voice comes out small, just above a whisper and I'm not even sure he's heard me. But then I feel him shift beside me and I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my face as he waits for me to continue.

"We don't really talk, I haven't had a proper conversation with her since we left. Things are...complicated. But then she called me tonight and I couldn't bring myself to answer the phone and she left such an upsetting voicemail and I-"

The lump in my throat stops me and I'm afraid I'll start crying again. I release a shaky breath and clear my throat.

"My moms not well, she has a lot of mental health issues that only got worse after my dad died and I just couldn't handle them anymore. I feel like shit for leaving but things were bad and I just couldn't. And then she leaves me this voicemail making me feel like shit but I promise you I'm not a bad person, Zayn. I had to leave, it wasn't-"

He grabs my hand and it stops my rambling.

"Hey, it's okay, you don't have to explain yourself to me. It's alright," he soothes me.

I didn't even realize I was crying again until he was wiping a tear from my cheek.

I sniffle and sit up. I rub my eyes and attempt to dry my tears. I felt a sense of shame, I didn't want to cry or ruin his night. Most people, men especially, always got weird when you cried in front of them.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump all of that on you."

His eyes are kind and sincere as he shakes his head.

"You don't need to apologize, you didn't dump anything on me. I asked because I genuinely care," he assures me.

I'm quiet for a moment as I take in his words. Knowing that he genuinely cares and wants to give me some sort of comfort leaves me with so many mixed feelings. It feels good to have someone care for me in this way, but also foreign and scary because I haven't had someone care for a long time.

His hand squeezes mine and I turn my gaze back on him.

"Im sorry to hear about your dad," he says softly.

"Thank you, it's weird. I don't really talk about him anymore, which feels like such a disservice to him because he was a great dad. But I couldn't talk about him with my mom, and so I guess  I just stopped talking about him."

Zayn's gaze is sympathetic as he listens to me talk about my dad, the accident that took his life and some of my most favorite memories with him. He doesn't did any further into my relationship with my mom or cast harsh judgements. He just listens attentively as I vent and it makes me feel so much lighter.

At some point in the night, the conversation makes its way back to less serious territory. He shows me his sketches and paintings, that are much better than he let on. We listen to a few more records and he lets me borrow a book.

The night comes to an end as he walks me back to my dorm in the very early hours of the morning. The campus has pretty much died down, most people sleeping or retreating back to their dorms. We walk in silence, my mind wild with thoughts and a tiny trace of a smile on my lips.

For the day starting out so shitty, Zayn truly turned it around for me. I can't help but wonder what this is between us, this magnetic current that I've noticed on multiple occasions tonight. From his fingers on my jaw, to his arm brushing mine or his hand on my knee. Every time his body came into contact with mine, I felt mine come alive.

I wonder if he feels it too.

I gaze down at the sweats and oversized hoodie he insisted I wear for the walk and back up at him as we approach my building.

"Do you want me to give these back now? Or would you like me to wash them first?"

He shrugs and smiles softly.

"Whatever you prefer, you don't need to wash them though. You only wore them for the walk over."

I nod and decide it's probably better if I don't return to my dorm room in Laila's brother's clothes. The night was completely innocent but I still don't think she'd be eager to see it. I slide the sweatpants off carefully, making sure my skirt is in place so I don't flash him. I fold them and hand them over to him. I pull off the hoodie and give that back to him as well.

"Thank you again, for tonight. It was nice," I smiled at him.

He smiled back warmly and nodded.

"It was, thanks for hanging out. We'll have to do it again soon, preferably my place so we can watch some horror movies, maybe order take out?"Zayn offers.

I smile wider and nod.

"That sounds amazing, I would never turn down food and horror. I'm in."

He licks his lips as his eyes flicker to my lips and I can feel my stomach flip with anticipation. I'm so sure he's going to kiss me, I'm so sure he wants too.

But he doesn't.

He just smiles and nods at me.

"Have a good night Ryder."

"Yeah, you too," I respond quickly and turn on my heels.

I don't bother to look back as I head into the dorm building. My minds are racing once again and I really just need a moment to myself to take it all in.

I'm not sure where Zayn's heads at or where this friendship with him will lead. All I know is I can feel myself gravitating towards him more and more and I feel I'm almost at the point of no return.