As we are driving back toward the café, I feel bad for my rude behavior, so I soften it by saying, "Thanks."
"For what?"
"Today. I had fun hanging out."
"You should say 'yes' when I ask you to go running with me tomorrow morning."
"Is that you asking me or telling me?"
He turns to look at me and smirks, not saying anything. Giggling at his invitation, I say, "Okay then."
"Okay then," he repeats.
By the time we arrive back at the café, the parking lot has emptied out and the rain is now falling hard. Ryan reaches over and turns down the music before saying, "I didn't want to say anything earlier, but I can't help but wonder about what made you come home yesterday."
Being worn out from our day, and feeling more at ease around him, I don't hesitate much when I decide to answer. "I got into a fight with my parents. Some pretty nasty things were said, so I just left."
He shifts in his seat to face me and I do the same, as he asks, "You guys fight a lot?"
"My whole life. My mother is a difficult woman to be around. She doesn't approve of the way I want to live."
"What do you mean?"
"My parents are more concerned about their social standing than my happiness. So, having a daughter who wants to be a dancer and is unengaged is not a good look for them."
"That's pretty shitty."
"I'm used to it," I quietly say and lean the side of my head against the seat.
"No one should be used to that," he says in a soft raspy tone. "They should be proud of you. I've only just met you, but you're pretty great from what I know so far."
His words are so sweet, but at the same time, a little unnerving. What's strange is that I can say the same about him. I have only known Ryan for a short while, but our friendship feels very natural.
"I had always hoped that somewhere beneath their hard exterior that they would be proud of me, but after last night, I now know that they aren't. My mother actually said she was embarrassed by me."
Ryan lets out a long sigh and leans in closer to me. I look down to see him reaching over and sliding his hand over the top of mine. When I look up at him, he is staring at me with a hint of sadness in eyes.
My heart starts to race, and I feel myself wanting to close off. It hasn't really bothered me when he's taken my hand in the past, but something about being alone with him now and opening up to him is beginning to overwhelm me. I sit up, pull my hand away from his, and start fiddling with the door handle. I hear the click of the locks and thank him with a shaky voice for hanging out with me. I hesitantly turn around to look at him when I get out of his car and give him an apologetic smile because I don't know what else to do, but I need space, and I need to be alone before I start to really freak out. I dig out my keys from my purse and unlock my car door. I take another quick glance at him before driving away, and he is sitting there watching me with a confused look on his face.
Embarrassed by my moment of weakness, I pull away and start driving home. Anxiety begins to course through my body, and I cry. How can I be so weak and show it in front of Ryan? I'm disappointed in myself for not holding it together better.
When I pull up to my house, I just sit in my car and continue to wipe the tears that are falling down my cheeks. I slowly inhale a deep breath and am able to gain a little bit more control over my emotions.
Why am I acting like this? I had such a great day, and Ryan has become a good friend to me. I know I need to just pull myself together because he will be coming over tomorrow morning to run, and he will think I'm a total basket case if I call and cancel on him after what just happened. God, Candace, get your shit together. You can do this.
Chapter seventeen
After I lace up my shoes, I go to the kitchen to get some water when I hear the doorbell ring.
"Hey, you ready?" Ryan asks when I open the door.
"Yeah. Here, hold these." I hand him the waters and turn to grab my hooded running jacket off the couch. Zipping it up, I say, "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go."
I take one of the bottles of water and tell Ryan to keep the other. Locking the door behind us, we start off with a brisk walk through the neighborhood.
"I figured we could run around campus and through some of the surrounding neighborhoods. How are you with distance?" he asks.
"I'm good for around six or seven miles, but it's pretty cold out today, so I'm not too sure how long I'll last."
The morning is bitterly cold, and the sun has just started to rise. The streets are empty aside from a few other runners we see as we start walking toward the UW campus. We begin with a light jog for about a half-mile before we break into our run. The streets are wet and soggy with dead leaves that are piled along the curbs and scattered over the lawns. A slight mist is in the air, which isn't anything new, and it looks like we are due to have another rainy day. It has rained every day this month, and the news keeps talking about the city hitting the big 'four-oh' this next week when the yearly rainfall will reach forty inches.
When we finally hit the campus, the sidewalks are completely empty, and it's abnormally quiet.
"Next weekend Mark's band is playing another gig at the bar. You should stop by," Ryan says as we run through the quad that is lined with now-bare cherry trees.
"Thanks, but I have to work."
"Would you come if you didn't have to work?"