2.5: Honesty is the Best Policy

"That's Alexshit's ipod?!" Ryder always adorably found a way to give adorable nicknames to the men around him. Bonus points if the men were also regulars in communicating with me.

Quentin, since he's going to college far away from Greenville, had gone from 'Quentin the Ape' to Smelly Q.

Andrew (*remember the blonde ditz who had a huge crush on April but then decided that they're not meant to be together after all on Book One?*) was Dumblond on Ryder's contacts. But now since he's so far away on his football scholarship and we hardly ever text each other anymore (he got a girlfriend and another girl on the side who convinced him that it's not cheating when the other party doesn't know), Ryder only called him by his name.

Yay for distance?

Alex had just been simply Alex. Because Ryder never would have thought that I'd be interacting regularly with him, plus they never met each other again since the last incident (*Quirky Tale of April Hale chapter 26*). But now Ryder found out that Alex and I were attending the same universities and Alex was dating my housemate, ergo he would be hanging out in my townhouse a lot.

So he became Alexshit.

"He has some really bad songs," I said with my reassuring tone. "Plus I don't put the earpods too far on my ears because I don't want to share my earwax with him."

Ryder made a grossed out face. "I was licking your ears ten minutes ago, April."

"Don't worry, my earwax are hidden pretty deep inside my ears," I said, a little lightheaded when I remembered what we had just done just before Ryder noticed the ipod on my table. I never knew that being licked in the ear would feel so... good. It feels a little bit like peeing after you held your bladder for hours. I could literally shudder just by thinking about it.

"Hey, hey," Ryder flicked his fingers. "Don't daydream in the middle of my rant."

"Sorry, I was just remembering how good it is to be licked on the ear."

The velocity in which anger got replaced by sheer smugness on Ryder's face was amazing. "That good, huh?"

"It feels like peeing after you hold your bladder for hours."

"You should have stopped at the first sentence and never bother to explain how it makes you feel."

I bit my lip, disappointed that Ryder was losing his 'I want to make out' face. "I just killed the mood, didn't I?"

He nodded. "Don't talk about bladder or earwax or other bodily fluids when we're in the topic of Pleasure." He paused, and then drummed his fingers on my arm. "Wait, certain bodily fluids are fine..."

"Like what?" I asked.

Ryder absent-mindedly drummed his fingers on my arm, and then his forehead hardened. "Ugh. I remembered that stupid ipod and then I get pissed off again."

"What's wrong with lending an ipod?"

"He tried to bribe me with an ipod last year, remember? And then now he's lending you another ipod. What, does that guy is so creatively blocked that he can't think of any other thing aside from an ipod?"

I laughed because it was such a funny notion from him. "Maybe music is important to him."

"Musically talented people are usually saints. Alex? Not so much."

"Why do you hate him anyway?" I finally asked. I always knew that there was more history than what Ryder had let me on, but I never really thought so much about Alex to care.

"We went-"

"Way back," I finished. "I know about that. But what actually made you hate him?"

"He's a snake," Ryder said. "And he's too pretty to be a guy. I bet he never have to replace a tire his entire life."

"But you're a cute guy, too," I said as I ran my hand around his scruffy jaw. "You know, when you shave all of this off you look like chiseled models straight from CW failed pilots."

"I'm talking attitude, April. Alex comes from money. He gets manicured weekly and I think he never has to wash his hair himself because he spends so much of his time on the salon. But he also knows how to make the people around him to get him more money."

"And he somehow made you one of his money-makers?" I guessed.

"Yeah. I mean, I was strapped for cash two years ago because of..." he trailed off, and when Ryder trailed off like that I knew that he was reminiscing about his recently dead dad. "He found the opportunity and introduced me to street-fighting."

"But I thought you liked fighting."

"I do. But it's... it's really unhealthy. The people there are callous and I feel like I'm just one misstep away from being dragged into some kind of a drug infested world," there was another pause. "I don't want to go back there. I want to live as long as I can, as healthily as I can. I just want to be normal."

I tried to remember how we met each other two years ago. It felt like an eternity, and I actually had forgotten my life before Ryder. There would be something in your life that would profoundly change you. And the difference was so great that you had to mark your life as Before the change, and After the change.

Life After Ryder was definitely better for me.

"You can't die before me," I said to him. "I'm living very healthily, so I might have a life expectancy until 80 or 90 years old. But you have to be older than me."

Ryder gave out a soft smile. "What you're asking is kind of selfish, April."

"Because I don't know what I'd do if you're gone," I said. "I mean, I can find more series to binge-watch on Netflix, but then my thirst for life will only last as long as I'm watching series."

"You're pretty much the only thing that made me get up in the morning," he said absent-mindedly.

We were quiet, and Ryder was leaning his head on my shoulder. It was a little too heavy for me, because there was probably around 60 to 70 pounds difference between us. But I preserved because I knew that he was in a state that Dr Lecter would call 'vulnerable', and the kindest thing we could offer to vulnerable people was a shoulder to cry on.

Ryder didn't cry, he rarely cried, and when he did, he would try his best to hide it. But there was a lot of sadness in his body, in his aura, and in his eyes. I knew that life hadn't been exactly kind to him. Losing his father, he lost a source of income and his original house. He had to postpone college to work, and his struggles left a semi-permanent mark on his eyebags and tired visage. Whereas before he had a bit of a reckless attitude on drinking and partying and basically being a normal teenager, now he had to grow up faster than most of us.

"I'm sorry that I'm not rich," Ryder suddenly said. "I'm sorry I can't give out iPods like it means nothing," he forced me to look at his eyes. Despite everything that we had undergone together, I still caught my breath when I saw him so close. If Ryder were an actor, he would gather a lot of fangirls just by eye-sexing the camera. He's that intense.

"When I visited your campus, I saw what those people wear in this university. Most of them are very well off, April. Hell, I counted ten Porsches parked on the parking lot...." He drew a sharp breath. "I want to... give you things. I want to give you nice clothes and nice gadgets," his grip on my arm hardened. "But I could only make you a fucking wood plate for your door."

"It's a really great gift, though," I said, remembering how well the plate looked on my door. "It drove my housemates away."

"You can always ask."

"For what?"

"For nicer things," Ryder was staring on another direction when he said that. "I mean, it's normal for guys to get their girlfriend fancy gifts."

Oh, the temptations. Before I knew it, my mind was racing on the things that I could ask for Ryder to get me. I wanted him to accompany me to binge-watch strange Japanese animated shows (he always refused to read subs). I wanted him to bring me to his workshops and let me touch the tools. I wanted him to cook me dinners and lunch and breakfasts.

Most of all I just never wanted him to look this vulnerable anymore.

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Despite the hardships of meeting overzealous new people who intended to dissect your past and futures in every single detail, being liked certainly had its perks.

I swear I didn't mean for any of this to happen. After Ryder went back to his grandmother's house, I went to Trisha's room to give back Alex's ipod. For some reasons, I forgot to knock on her door, and what I saw had left a gaping hole on my brain.

Ha, I was just messing with you, I didn't see Trisha and Alex making out (or worse), but I did see her painting her toenails neon pink. So I gave her the ipod and mentioned my gratitude towards her and Alex, and she accepted gleefully. And then I remarked the bitemarks on her neck, and then she proceeded to tell me, with no details spared, on the incidents that resulted on those bitemarks. In the middle of telling the story, she said this:

"Anyway, Alex's throwing a party on his townhouse just down the road. You in?"

She went to another tirade of blah-blah-blah. I was so fascinated with her neon pink nailpolish that I nodded at anything that she said. The paint left beautiful cracked textures on Trisha's nails when it dried. I wondered what spurred the nail polish scientists to invent that and if they could be considered the Michaelangelo of the Millenial Generation.

In the middle of her blah-blah-blah, she grabbed my arm and then gave me her denim jacket. "Wear this, April."

"I don't like the smell," I said, noting that the smell of Trisha's laundry reminded me of Toddlers and Tiaras.

"Good, that means we're emitting different kind of pheromones," Trisha said. "But your Rugrats t-shirt offended me so much that I need you to cover it with something."

I wore the jacket anyway, and then she dragged me to the front of the house. Lauren was already outside.

"Where's Mindy?" Trisha asked.

"She with her band," Lauren said. "We'll just walk to Alex's house. It's so close," she glanced at me. "Nice denim, April, I bet it's not yours."

"It's not."

"Called it," Lauren popped her bubble gum. "I bet this is your first college party?"

I blinked. "Please repeat what you just said."

They didn't bother to repeat, and instead laughed. "Just come. I told some people that you're coming and the guest lists just doubled in ten minutes."

I froze at the information, perplexed. Part of me wanted to come and see what would happen. Sure, all that noise would be really annoying and I didn't know if my ears could handle all the screaming and laughing and *shudders* EDM music that they would probably play on repeat.

"D-double?" I stammered.

Trisha sighed and then showed me her phone, which was constantly pinging. In particular, it was her Whatsapp group 'Freshmen Fifteen <3 <3 BFFFFFFFF'

"See here," she showed the screen to me. "'Hot Aspie* is coming to Alex's, so I'm coming too'. 'OMG, I'd like to meet the Hot Aspie, too!' Hot Aspie, in this case, is you."

"I feel like it's a bit degrading... to label people like that."

"It's kind of your identifier anyway. They call me 'Boy Crazy Trish' and am okay with it. It's an apt name. Besides, you could do way worse that 'Hot Aspie'. You can get called 'The Boring Bitch' and doomed your college experience to literally nothing but morning classes and friendless nights with pizzas."

"I spent the first three years of my high school days on morning classes and friendless nights with pizzas," I told them.

"So you'd like three more years of pizzas, then?" Lauren asked me. "It's pretty fucking sad."

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You got a text message!

April to Ryder the Great:

'I'm going to a party at Alex's townhouse with Lauren and Trisha. People in this uni is weird because they really like me and Trisha said more of them are coming because they hear I am coming. Please don't get angry and don't forget to make some chamomile tea for your dear grandmother. Anyway, after you left I watched half an episode of Buffy and it's still as good as I watched it for the first time. Joss Whedon is amazing and he's my inspiration. By the way, Trisha also lent me her denim jacket because she's offended by my Rugrats t-shirt. Oh, and Ryder, do you want to come, too?'

Ryder replied to my text not ten seconds after I hit send. I suspected that he didn't bother to read the entirety of my text.

Ryder to Kitten:

'Did you hijack April's phone again?'

Another text came shortly thereafter.

Ryder to Kitten:

'You don't touch anything or anyone before I get there, Kitten. Promise me.'

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Hiya! I think I rewrote this chapter three times, with all three leading to different directions. But this is the version that I'm most satisfied. :) Don't forget to vote and comments! I love reading those <3 <3