Ryan Hunter

that was going on. Distracting Liza. What a douche bag. I’d distract her all right. But I’d do it my way, and only because I intended to get her mind free of Mitchell and ready for me. Could turn out to be an interesting adventure. And nothing was left to stop me. A slow smile crept to my lips as I keyed in another message for Liza.
    OKAY. TALKED TO MITCHELL. SO THE CAT’S OUT?
    No answer came to that text, and after a few minutes I considered calling her number. But then I had a way better idea. Yeah, it was just the right thing to get her mind off her misery. I typed a new message. CAN YOU SLIP OUT AFTER DARK?
    It didn’t take long until one came back this time. I PROBABLY COULD. BUT WHY WOULD I DO THAT?
    I smirked at the phone while I punched in: DISTRACTION ;-)
    She was quick to reply. REALLY, I’M NOT UP TO MORE TORTURE.
    That wasn’t quite encouraging, but neither was it a definite no . I pushed off the chair and headed to my wardrobe, skimming through the many dress shirts in there. A white one would be just fine for what I had in mind tonight. I rolled up the sleeves, slipped into tattered blue jeans and light gray tennis shoes, and grabbed the Indian’s cap from my desk lamp. The ball cap had always brought me luck in the past, and I wouldn’t leave it behind tonight.
    Loping down the wide, winding stairs, I told my mom, who just came out of the dining room, that I was off to see Rachel and Phil and that she didn’t need to wait for me. Then I headed out into the garage and started my Audi.
    It was already dark when I reached the avenue where Liza lived. There was light in her room, and the window was open again with some depressing music drifting out. I thanked God for the high temperatures in California as I said a bit louder than usual, “Get down here, Matthews!”
    The volume lowered, and a couple of seconds later, Liza appeared in the window, dabbing at her cheeks. Yeah, the crying wasn’t yet over. “Why did you come?” She narrowed her bloodshot eyes at me. “Can’t you read? I said no.”
    Her tone didn’t quite match her annoyed message. In fact, there was this eighty to twenty percent chance that she was actually happy to see me. “You said no torturing you . I’m not going to. Now get into some nice clothes, wash your face, and come out.”
    “I’m not in the mood—”
    Blah, blah . I jumped, grabbing a thick branch of the tree, and hoisted myself onto the shed. That shut her up. And it didn’t matter in which mood she was. I’d make sure to get her into the right mood if she only gave me a chance.
    “ May I come in?” I said through a smirk as I balanced on the roof of the shed toward her room and climbed inside without waiting for her invitation.
    Obviously trying to catch her breath, Liza stumbled backward away from the window until she landed on her butt on the bed that was centered in the room with the headboard attached to one wall. There was a cool desk with a computer and tons of book, and a Hello Kitty poster stuck on the door opposite the window.
    I sat down on the windowsill and grabbed the edge. “Nice room,” I said, then I narrowed my eyes at her and added, “ You look miserable.”
    “Gee , thanks for the news update,” she snarled back.
    Okay, I wasn’t really prepared for seeing her down like this, though I should probably have known. This made me a bit uncomfortable, and I wished we weren’t in a dimly lit room with the soundtrack from The Lord of the Rings playing. Lifting my cap, I raked a nervous hand through my hair. “Listen, I totally suck at this whole want-to-talk-about-it crap.”
    “Then why are you here?” She clearly tried to stake me with her cynicism, but I wouldn’t let her have it.
    I gave a cool shrug . “Perhaps because I’m good at having fun and taking your mind off certain things,” I suggested. “So what do you say? Want to come party a little?”
    “I think I’ll stay home and listen to some music instead.”
    At this precise moment, she looked like another party with me was the last thing she wanted in her life, and I saw my plan vaporizing. Damn. I needed her to come with me, because I knew she’d like it once she stopped thinking about that douche bag, Mitchell.
    “Don’t do this to yourself,” I begged. “No guy is worth it.” And before I knew it, I had walked over to her, took her hands, and pulled her up from the bed. “Come on, Liza.” It felt like the right thing to use her first name, just to