Ryan Hunter

blink away a sudden gush of water in my eyes.
    In the late afternoon, there was again a knock on my door, but this time it was Rachel marching in like she owned this room. She carried a plate on which sat a fat piece of cherry vanilla cream cake. Smiling, she slumped on the mattress and swayed the plate in front of my nose. “I brought the cake, you spill.”
    She couldn’t have made it past my mother without catching the information that I was in a somewhat down mood today. Mom must have encouraged her to come up and find out what had happened.
    “Rachel, go away. I don’t want to talk to you, or mom, or anybody else today.”
    “So it’s true.” Her face scrunched up. “You’re love sick? Can only be that if you refuse cherry cake. And by the way, you look like shit. Who messed with your face?”
    I clenched my teeth behind tight lips. “Doesn’t matter. And now that you figured me out, Sherlock Holmes, I’d be happy if you could leave me alone.”
    “No, you wouldn’t be happy. You’d just hang out in here all day and drown in self-pity.” She scooted farther up on the mattress and placed the cake on my nightstand. “What the heck happened after you and Liza left last night? You looked totally into each other.”
    And I totally thought we were. I heaved a sigh, wanting nothing but a little time alone. Was that really asking too much in a house half as big as the school building? I grunted. “Will you go away if I tell you?”
    Rachel pursed her lips. “Mmm, maybe.”
    I sat up, scooted back, leaning against the headboard, and folded my arms over my chest. “We kissed in her room, her best friend came in, who actually happens to be Tony Mitchell, and he told her some fucking shit about me just trying to get her in the sack.”
    “You and Tony are friends. Why would he do that?”
    “Because he realized he didn’t want to give her up to me.”
    “And Liza believed what he said?” Eyes wider than a car’s headlights, Rachel gaped at me. But then her brows furrowed. “Well, of course, she would. That’s just what you’re known for.”
    I cast her a cynical smile. “Yeah, rub it in, sis.”
    “What? Name only one girl that you kissed or were out with because you were in love with her.”
    We stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Then I said, “Liza.”
    Searching my face like she didn’t know whether I was kidding or serious, she was silent for a minute. Finally she rolled her eyes. “Oh, the irony of it.” Taking off the claw that held her long hair up at the back of her head, she flung herself next to me and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Little Ryan falls in love for the first time, and that’s when he gets payback for all the hearts he’d fucked with.”
    It was strange to hear my sister swearing. I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes, but all I got to see was her crown. “Let Mom hear you talking like that, and she’ll wash your mouth out with soap,” I told her. In fact, my mother had done that with me when I was ten. It didn’t make me stop using those words, but I sure as hell never said them in front of her again.
    Rachel only laughed. “So, what are you going to do about Liza?”
    “What can I do? She told me she never wanted to see me again,” I muttered dryly.
    “And…”
    “And nothing. Heck, she threw me out of her room. It’s over.” Before it even had begun. “I guess she’ll forgive Tony for whatever he screwed up and be happy with him for…forever.”
    “She’s in love with him?”
    “Always has been.”
    “That’s bad. I was totally sure that she was head over heels for you last night.”
    The sad thing was that for a few hours I had believed that, too. “Does it mean anything if a girl writes about you in her diary?” I mumbled.
    “She mentioned you in there?”
    “M-hm.”
    “And she let you read it?” Rachel’s voice rose half an octave as she turned her head to stare at my face.
    “Not exactly.”
    “You read it secretly?!”
    “Could you stop shrieking at me?” I paused then continued with a mumble, “And yes, I did. Not much. Just a few lines. She wrote that she liked how I smelled.”
    Rachel sat up and looked at me like I had told her that Santa was gay. “Oh. My. God.”
    “What?”
    “She’s totally in love with you.”
    Was she? Well, she had a strange way of telling me so last night. “She’s in love with Mitchell,” I grumbled.
    “A girl can love more than one guy.” Rachel waved a dismissive