Summer came in the form of my mentally unstable, adrenaline seeking next door neighbor Ryder Blake.

Ryder is many things. Annoying, inconsiderate, egocentric, insane, among various unmentionable traits that are considerably too nice to use as a description of the infuriating boy. Nobody could say they weren't aware of his presence the second he walked into a room; he made it so everyone had to look his way. He basked in adrenaline. Any way he could get a high, he'd sweep up the chance before it could slip from his grip.

My history with Ryder roots all the way back to kindergarten when he ran over my pet mouse, Minnie, and blamed it on my own carelessness rather than accept the blame himself. From the day onward, I'd done my best to steer clear of the bad influence and guy I knew he'd become. Of course, my parents had other ideas of the guy, and it'd resulted in various circumstances of me being forced to socialize with him at dinners, reunions, or outside while they mingled.

The weekend following the first day of summer vacation was supposed to be great. My best friend Max was in the midst of planning his annual beginning of summer party that I'd somehow managed to entangle myself in and I had a stack of college letters and applications awaiting my presence on my computer desk. I had planned a weekend of peace and serenity, lounged out in my backyard on an old lawn chair Saturday afternoon catching up on applications and books I'd been forcing aside since January as a result of studying for exams.

My plans dissipated into thin air the moment Max slowed his old, rusted hand-me-down Buick to a stop along the curb outside my house the last day of junior year. The streak of white and blue paint along the rear passenger's side door of the car had been enough of a sign to stop double parking behind my stepfather, as he had been doing since he'd gotten his license a year and a half ago. Michael hadn't been too pleased to come out every other morning to find an old hunk of junk parked behind his Range Rover. He'd encouraged me endlessly to talk to Max about it, but it had taken the car getting dinged for him to take the hint.

Sitting in the passenger's seat, fingers curling around the wheel, he pretended to be disinterested in the fact that Ryder and Ryan Blake had just pulled into their driveway one house over.

"You're going to Megamart, right?" I asked, unbuckling my seat belt and watching it retract back with a childlike wonder.

Max sighed. "What do you need?"

"Pads."

I watched my best friend throw his head back against the seat and groan with a sheepish smile. His dark bangs curtained the lines of frustration on his forehead, resulting in Max raising his hand and brushing it back out of habit. His brown eyes, slightly curved upright, narrowed further upon hearing my request.

"Really? Why is it I always wind up buying them for you?" he responded.

I leaned over and slapped a hand against his broad shoulder. "Because you love me."

"Are you sure it isn't because I'm your personal chauffeur?" he joked with a lopsided grin.

"Could be." I shrugged. "I'm still stuck on the theory you only hang around me for food. So I guess we're even then, huh?"

He chuckled and unlocked the doors, making a gesture with his right hand toward the door. "Your house awaits."

"It saddens me how much you want to get rid of me, Maxwell." I feigned sadness as I climbed out of the car. The smile on his face continued to grow as I shook my head in shame.

"I'll be back in about forty-five. I love you. And, Zoey?" he smirked, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do while I'm gone."

I waved him off, waiting until the car disappeared around the corner to turn my back to the street and jog up my driveway and into the house. The kitchen was inhabited by my twenty-four year old step-sister studying, her dark brown ringlets cascading around her as she buried her face deeper into her textbook. I decided it'd be best to slip by without disturbing her and found my room at the end of the dark hall. I scoured my room for a comfortable tee and a pair of shorts before heading back out.

I'd always questioned my mother's decision to buy a one-story house with two kids and a dog that was questionably human, but had never gone as far as confronting her on it. She'd been through enough over the last sixteen to not have her seventeen year old daughter questioning her decision making.

My sister caught me in the dining room, shooting me a curious look. "When did you get home?"

"'Like five minutes ago. Why?"

"I was wondering if you've checked the mail yet. I'm expecting a letter from Jason." she answered softly, raking a dark hand through her hair.

Katheryn and Jason had been a thing since she'd moved in ten years ago. They'd met in middle school and had been going strong ever since. Even after his departure into the military post graduation, Kat had been faithful to her word and kept a close eye on the mail every day expecting a letter that only came about once a month.

"I'll check it if you want." I offered.

Kat breathed out a sign of relief. "Would you? I've got a stupid midterm and have to study."

"Sure. I'll be right back." I returned her smile and stepped back outside, glancing at the overgrown lawn, currently being guarded by our Golden Retriever, Rosie.

I jogged down the steps and to the blue mailbox at the foot of the yard. I'd spent a week and a half painting it the summer before high school, and all that was left of the paint was a chipped pale blue. The rusted silver was starting to peek its way through, but I wasn't in any mood to sit and try and repaint it.

"Zoey." a husky voice breathed behind me. "Lovely day outside, isn't it?"

I jerked back, ramming the small of my back into the mailbox. Wincing in pain, I lifted my head to give Ryan Blake a piece of my mind about personal space.

I, as many girls did, immediately fell victim to the beautiful blue eyes that stared back at me.

By some miracle, Mrs. Blake had been able to produce not one, but two, completely obnoxious and undeniably good looking boys before she passed away ten years ago. Ryan, a little over a year older than Ryder, had been tormenting me I since we could walk. Ryan was a little less of an adrenaline junkie, but he still got his kicks in other ways, and one of those happened to be making me extraordinarily uncomfortable. It must have been a male Blake thing, considering my mother couldn't stand their father.

"You need to back up." I waved him off, reaching for the few envelopes that sat in the painted blue box.

"You need to loosen up a bit." he responded with a pursing of his full lips. "I was wondering if you have something I need."

"I don't have drugs or condoms." I muttered without looking up from the mail. "Go ask your brother or something."

He snorted. "Very funny. I'm being serious here."

"I can't get anyone to buy you alcohol either."

"You think so highly of me, Zoey. It really makes me feel all tingly inside." he said with a deadpan expression.

I fought the smile that turned up the corners of my lips.

"What do you want, Ryan??"

He grinned. "I have plans."

"Like?"

"Kissing you?" he raised one of his perfect eyebrows.

I frowned as the thought of his black hair actually being as soft as it looks crossed my mind.

Why the hell was I questioning that?

"In your dreams, Blake." I huffed, starting up my driveway.

"Seriously, though, Zoey. I don't really need anything. Just thought it'd be fun to mess with you. "

I dropped my hands to my side to keep from flipping him my favorite finger.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked.

I gestured for him to go on. "Do you think I'm a pig with no class?"

I stifled a laugh.

"Oh, believe me, I think you're a pig." I retorted. "But I can't say that you don't have class when I don't really know you. Why are you asking?"

He only chuckled and shook his head. "No reason. Just a comment Ryder made. See you around, Summers."

*

I stretched my arms out across the table and shot Max a quick, sideways glare. "I want french toast."

"I want pancakes."

"I'm paying. We're getting french toast." I stated.

He opened his mouth to protest again, but is interrupted by a family strand of red hair flashing across our line of sight. Our friend Gabby sits in the booth across from us with a small smile. "Why are you guys fighting over eating breakfast for dinner?"

Max crossed his arms and leaned across the table, analyzing her. "Why are you late?"

Gabby tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear, green eyes darting back and forth between the two of us.

"I heard Ryder Blake has cancer." her words were so unexpected that I laughed hearing them. When I didn't see the horrified look in her eyes falter, my laughter died and I blinked in surprise.

Max spoke what I was thinking. "It's probably a rumor. It's nothing."

Gabby and I exchanged a look, before agreeing with Max quietly. He waited a few seconds before speaking up, but I had already lost myself in my thoughts.

*

I closed the photo album on my lap at the sound of a car door slamming. Max had dropped me off a little over an hour ago and my mom had accidentally locked me out of the house while they went out to dinner. I glanced up to find Mr. Blake's Mustang in the driveway next door, Ryder standing on the passenger's side of it. Ryan stood on the front porch, arms stretched behind his head as he watched the scene play out in front of him.

Ryder then shouted something I couldn't quite catch at his father before starting toward his porch. He paused, throwing a look my way for a moment, before he turned away and jogged up the stairs and into the house. 

****AN****

*Unedited*

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~ChasingMadness24