The Color Of Grace (31 page)

Then the call came.

She had to go into work. Again.

Barry glanced at me as soon as she hung up and made the
announcement. The look of relish in his gaze sent a sickened shiver up my
spine.

Time to retreat.

As soon as Mom pulled out of the driveway, I climbed out my
bedroom window. With the knowledge that Barry possessed a key to my room, I
wasn’t going to stick around any longer than I had to.

Prepared this time, I bundled up, packing a book bag full of
necessities: homework, clothes, snacks. I didn’t think twice, but hiked straight
to Ryder’s house.

Transitioning from twilight to dark, the evening held an
ethereal yet frightening beauty. The bare limbs of leafless trees threw creepy
shadows that had me glancing over my shoulder every few steps to make sure the
dentist hadn’t followed me. Strange how I hadn’t noticed any of the eerie
splendor the first time I’d made this trek. Guess I had been too busy running
for my life.

Using the shadows, I entered the Yates’ yard and slipped my
way to Ryder’s bedroom window. The lights were on this time, which made me sigh
in relief. I tapped quietly, then stepped back to wait.

Seconds later, the blinds ripped up and a bruised and battered
Ryder stared out through the pane glass. My mouth dropped open. I couldn’t
believe I’d completely forgotten about his fight. I’d come here, selfishly
thinking he’d be willing to help me when all this time he’d had his own issues
tormenting him.

But instead of shooing me away, he opened the window and
held out a hand to help me in. He didn’t smile and I didn’t smile in return.
Silently, I handed him my book bag, which he pulled inside before reaching out
again.

Once I’d gained entrance, we just stared at each other as if
we were the sole survivors of a tragedy.

I wanted to ask him how he felt but the answer seemed
obvious. He looked awful with a cut on his bottom lip and his knuckles bandaged
as if he were apprenticing to be a mummy. The left side of his face remained
slightly swollen and had already bruised.

Shifting uneasily, I gushed out the explanation. “My mom had
to go into work for a few hours, but she’ll get off at one, so I figure I’ll
start home at twelve thirty.”

Ryder didn’t bother to ask questions; he just said, “I’ll
drive you.”

“You don’t have to—” I started, only to shy back from the
scowl he sent me. With a cautious smile, I croaked, “Thank you.”

He nodded and slid the un-bandaged ends of his hands into
his back pockets as he glanced around the room, looking uncertain of what to do
now.

I looked about me too, feeling a similar awkwardness until I
realized his room seemed different from the last time I was here. More…bare.
Scrunching up my face, I finally noticed the lack of a television in his
entertainment center along with all his games gone as well.

Swerving my head around, I glanced up to find his computer
missing.

“Where’s your…stuff?” Had someone robbed him?

“My dad took it. Television, phone, computer—pretty much
everything. For three weeks.”

“You’re grounded?”

He nodded and plopped down on his bed to stare up at the
ceiling.

Wrapping my hands around my waist, I backed toward the
window. “I shouldn’t be here then.”

Ryder snorted and sent me a funny look. “Right. Like you
would be allowed to stay the night if I
wasn’t
grounded?”

He had a point. I glanced away.

With a sigh, he sat up and rubbed at his jaw, wincing.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

Ryder looked up, but a knock sounded on his bedroom door
before he could answer.

“Ryder?” a woman’s muffled voice spoke from the other side.

Eyes going wide, Ryder grabbed my arm
and yanked me toward another door. “Quick,” he hissed. “Hide in the bathroom.”

I stumbled inside, glancing over my shoulder in time to see
the other door beginning to open. I leapt the last couple of inches, and
slapped my hands over my mouth to keep from breathing too loudly.

“I brought you some more painkillers,” the woman said,
coming into Ryder’s room. I glanced through the crack in the door to see his
mom—a tall, slim woman with the same color hair as Ryder’s—holding up a cup of
water and a pill bottle. “Give me your hand.”

Ryder obeyed, sticking out his fingers, palm up. After his
mother dribbled out a couple pills, Ryder asked, “Can I have another?”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Does it hurt that bad?”

He nodded.

Sighing, Mrs. Yates gave him one more pill, then handed him
the water.

Ryder took the meds, wincing as he tilted his head back to
swallow.

From the bathroom, I cringed with him in sympathy, unable to
image how much agony he had to be in. He looked like he’d just gone a round
with Rocky Balboa.

His mom looked equally sympathetic, until she shook her
head. “I still can’t believe you got into a fight with Todd. He’s your best
friend.”

Ryder let out a sigh as he dropped the cup to his side. “Not
anymore.”

“Oh, are you ready to confess why you two argued? Should I
call your father in to hear this?”

“No,” Ryder was quick to retort. “I just...I don’t want to
talk about it yet. I just want to sleep.”

Face falling with disappointment, Mrs. Yates shook her head.
“What’s happened to you, Ryder?”

“Too much,” he muttered, rubbing at his face, only to wince
and yank his hand from the swelling. “Look, I’ll explain everything tomorrow,
okay? Right now, I just…I really do want to lie down for a while.”

“Okay, but I’m holding you to that. Tomorrow.” After setting
the pill bottle on the nightstand by Ryder’s bed, Mrs. Yates started from the
room, only to pause and snatch his iPod off the end table by the couch. “Forgot
to take this earlier,” she explained, pocketing it as she exited, shutting the
door behind her.

Ryder slumped down onto his couch.

Without a word, I stepped from the bathroom.

“Let me guess,” he said, without looking up. “You don’t want
to talk about your problems either.”

When he glanced up at me from bloodshot eyes, I shook my
head.

Ryder sat quiet for a moment, studying me before he asked,
“Has he hurt you?”

I closed my eyes. “No.”

“Okay. I’ll leave it alone then. But I still want to help
you.”

“You are.”

Thankfully, he didn’t ask any more questions. He did,
however, look as exhausted as he claimed to be. So, we prepared ourselves for
bed, each of us changing in his bathroom before we stood barefoot in our
pajamas in the middle of the floor and duked it out over who should get the
bed.

It was his house, he was hurt, and I felt strange sleeping
in his bed. I argued for the couch. Nevertheless, Ryder remained way more
stubborn. Though I found the gentleman in him sweet, he could be downright
aggravating.

As much backbone as I didn’t have, I ended up with the bed
while he camped out on the couch. He shut off the lights, and I thought that
would be that.

But he surprised me when his voice came from across the room
and through the dark. “Okay, I have to know; what’s with the coat?”

I frowned at the shadows that swallowed him whole. “What
coat?”

“The big, hulking lumber jacket you wear everywhere. The one
you forgot to put on Friday night before coming here.”

Thank goodness the lights were out; he couldn’t see my
blush. “What do you mean, what’s with the coat? It’s a coat. I wear it to keep
warm.”

“So…there’s no story behind it?” He sounded almost disappointed.

My throat went dry and I wanted to cry. But honestly, how
had he known I had history with that one piece of clothing?

“My dad.” I cleared my throat when my voice rasped, wishing
Daniel Indigo were alive now more than I’d ever wished it before. If he were
still here, Barry never would’ve married my mom, and I wouldn’t be suffering
through any of this.

“Your dad,” Ryder’s voice prompted softly. “It was your
dad’s coat?”

Though he couldn’t see me, I nodded. “Yeah. Mom said it was
his favorite. So I wear to…I don’t know…I guess I wear it to honor him.”

When Ryder didn’t respond, I reached up and wiped at a
silent tear on my cheek tracking down toward my ear. I couldn’t help but wonder
how close I’d be to my dad if he were alive.

“That’s the first thing I ever noticed about you.”

I sniffed and wiped at my nose. “Huh?”

“Your coat,” Ryder clarified. “At the ballgame against
Hillsburg. When I saw a girl—you—wearing that coat, it…” He paused before
continuing in a bashful tone. “Well, it reminded me of a movie, that’s all.”

I frowned, not catching on to what he meant at all. “What
movie?” I asked, hoping he’d clear up a few answers.

He sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll explain. My mom is a fanatic
for old movies, right?”

Umm….okay.

“And one of her favorites is
On the Waterfront
with Marlon Brando. Have you ever seen it?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Well, it’s about this ex-prize fighter who helps out the
mob and ends up getting some guy killed. The dead guy was going to rat out the
mob to the authorities, so they picked him off, see. And he had this jacket.
Looked just like the jacket you wear everywhere. Well, it was a black and white
movie, but I always imagined it was red and black like yours.”

“Okay,” I said. His explanation meant nothing to me.

“It was a very significant jacket in
the movie,” Ryder persisted. “When one person who tried to stand up to the mob
wore it, they ended up dead. So the jacket would pass on to someone else and
suddenly that person was standing up to the mob. These good characters kept
dying until finally the jacket came to Marlon Brando. He didn’t want to stand
up for what was right because his brother worked for the mob, but the girl he
liked needed him to be the hero and he just couldn’t live with being a coward
anymore. So finally, he stood up to them too.”

“Did he die?” I asked, suddenly intrigued by the movie’s
plot.

“Marlon Brando?” Ryder asked, his voice filled with surprise.
“Heck, no. He gets beat up a little but he finally encourages the rest of the
town, or whatever, to support him. And he triumphs. That’s why I love that
jacket so much. I always have this weird sense that whoever is wearing it is
the good guy, you know. Someone who isn’t afraid to stand up for what’s right,
no matter how frightening it is.”

I didn’t answer, but his explanation stuck with me. I smiled
in the dark. The coat had passed from my father to me, just as they had passed
it along in the movie. Made me think my father must’ve been the first good guy
out there. I liked that. But I didn’t feel like any kind of heroine who stood
up for what I knew was right. I was a coward, unworthy of my dad’s jacket.

“Guess I sound pretty stupid huh?” Ryder mumbled, making me
realize I’d never responded to his story.

“No. I…I actually really like that explanation.” After another
moment of silence, I quietly added, “Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for telling me about the glove in the snow.”

I smiled, surprised he even remembered that picture I’d
taken. It had only been a few weeks ago, but it felt like years, centuries had passed
since my first day at Southeast.

“That’s why I told you I didn’t think you belonged with my
group, you know. It wasn’t because I didn’t think you were good enough to hang
with that crew. It was because of the glove. If you had told anyone else in the
group about what you saw from the glove picture, they would’ve just made fun of
you. They totally wouldn’t have understood that your answer is the most amazing
thing about you. They would’ve ended up ruining you.”

My chest felt tight. I couldn’t believe Ryder Yates had just
called me amazing. Tears pooled around my eyes and I tried to blink them back,
but they kept flooding my lashes.

“Grace?” His voice was raw and uncertain. “Please say
something.”

I wiped at my cheeks and sniffed. “If you understood my glove
picture then that means you probably don’t belong with that group of people
either.”

He sounded sad as he answered, “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Then why do you hang out with them?”

“No idea.”

I gave a loud snort.

“I grew up with them,” he tried to explain. “There’re the
only people I know”

“Humph,” I added to my snort.

“Look, I know I went out with Kiera for the wrong reason,
liking the whole ego boost she gave me. I realized about as soon as we started
dating we didn’t belong together. But I didn’t know how to shake loose of her
without being mean. I never have been able to dump a girl. I should’ve thanked
Stangman instead of hitting him for taking her off my hands. But when I saw him
talking to you this morning, I just…I don’t know. I snapped.”