Ryan Hunter

hand. “And if she noticed how you smell, it’s always the most powerful sign that you’re the right one for her. A girl can’t be with someone she can’t smell. That’s hormone–ically impossible.”
    “ Hormonically?” I repeated with a dry chuckle.
    “Yeah. That’s how we tick. She loves your scent, she loves you.”
    “Great.”
    “It is great. Now where’s your phone?”
    “Why?”
    “Because you’re going to call her, apologize for whatever you messed up, and tell her you want to see her again. Duh.”
    Yeah, right. I forgot that this was the most natural thing in the world…
    After a moment, Rachel grimaced. “You’re not going to call her, right?”
    “I don’t see a point in it. Liza was quite forthright last night.”
    “Girls don’t always mean what they say,” she whined.
    “You said I was the most annoying little brother one could ever have.”
    “I meant that.”
    I quirked my brows at her but didn’t reply. With a resigning sigh, my sister rose from the bed and crossed to the door, but before she left me to myself, she turned around once more and said, “Ryan, you’re my brother, and I love you. But you are an idiot. And if you don’t get over yourself and call that nice girl who seems to really like you for a reason that escapes me, you might be destroying something good. Keep the cake.” The door closed silently after her.
    I did not call Liza that day.
    From the moment I’d glimpsed a chance for us, I’d tried to do everything right with her. If she didn’t see that, it was her fault, not mine. And if she really liked me as Rachel said and wanted to talk things out, she should be the one calling, not me. Dammit!
    That night, I fell in and out of sleep in thirty-minute intervals. And every time I woke up, the first thing I did was check my phone for new texts. The only messages that had come in were from Justin. He was concerned because I’d ignored his calls all day. Not bothering to answer him or to check my cell for texts any longer, I turned my phone off close to midnight. But I didn’t sleep any better after that.
    Thursday was the first time in my life that I missed soccer training for a reason other than a broken ankle. I just couldn’t be arsed to look at Mitchell’s mug. Winter called me afterward and let me know that everyone got the story of a botched evening from Mitchell today. Only that Mitchell made me look like the ogre who hassled Liza. Alex wanted to know what had happened after Tony had left us alone. I didn’t care to give deets to anyone. Bad enough that Rachel had coaxed so much information out of me for a piece of cake that my mother had carried away in the morning, untouched.
    “She’s not interested in me,” I told Alex and made clear I wasn’t going to say more on that matter.
    When Justin called me only little later for the seventh time in two days, I finally answered his call, too. “Hey,” I said.
    “Why do I have to fucking hear from my little brother what happened to my best friend and not from you ?”
    Someone was pissed, all right. “Sorry, dude. I wasn’t in the mood for big conversations.”
    In the little pause Justin made, he abandoned his anger completely and adopted a compassionate tone. “She rebuffed you?”
    “Rebuffed?” I laughed bitterly. “She kicked me to hell.”
    “Oh crap. How are you doing?”
    “I’m a useless shit these days,” I confessed.
    “I can hear that. Want me to come over and hang out?”
    “No,” I drawled.
    “Wanna go down to the arcade and play some foosball? Get your mind off the chick?”
    “Nah, I don’t want to do anything really. I’ll just watch some TV, maybe get a hearing loss from Nickleback.” Or stare at the ceiling for another night.
    “Okay. Gimme a shout if you need anything, dude.”
    “Yeah, thanks.” I rang off and tossed my phone onto the comforter.
    Raking a hand through my hair, I dropped into my desk chair, spinning so that I could gaze out the window. That was all I did the entire week. It was either the window, the blank wall, or the ceiling. And whichever currently was on the program, I always saw a heart-shaped face with pretty apple green eyes smiling back at me.
    Maybe Rachel was right. Maybe I was about to destroy something really good and meaningful. But even if I got back on my feet to fight for Liza again, how could I ever compete against angelic Tony ?
    It was a message from Justin on Saturday that made me change my mind.
    I JUST HEARD