Lying Out Loud

Chapter 31

I may not have been an overly romantic person, but I did have a soft spot for romantic comedies. Which meant I also had a soft spot for the cliché of the Grand Gesture. And I was hoping Ryder Cross did, too.

The problem with grand gestures, however, is that they can be really embarrassing for the gesturer. But then, maybe that’s the real gesture: showing that you’re willing to make a fool of yourself for another person.

These were the things I found myself musing over as I stood on Ryder’s front lawn on a Friday afternoon, my hands trembling as I held a (surprisingly heavy) boom box over my head. It was blasting “Of Lions and Robots,” the Goats Vote for Melons love song that I’d begun to associate with Ryder.

If his mother was worried about what the neighbors would think of my car, this was giving her a heart attack. I could see her face in the living room window, staring out at me with intense disapproval.

I tried to ignore that and focus only on Ryder’s bedroom window, which — since he lived in a one-story house — was only a few feet away from my face.

I knew he was inside. I’d seen the curtains shift, so now I stood there, holding my breath, anxious and a little terrified as I waited for him to open the window.

But he did me one better.

He came outside.

“Sonny? What are you doing?”

I turned and saw him heading down the front steps. “Gesturing,” I said, my heart racing. I smiled and lowered the boom box a little. My arms were killing me.

Slowly, he began to walk toward me. “You know, I like nineties teen movies,” he said. “John Cusack holding a boom box over his head is from Say Anything, which is an eighties movie.”

“Yeah, well, you try finding an iconic, grand romantic gesture that isn’t lame in a nineties teen movie. At least I got the soundtrack right.”

“Goats Vote for Melons grew on you?”

“You wish. I just happen to like this one song. And luckily, in dorky hipster fashion, they released this album on cassette. Weirdos.”

He started to smile, but then he caught himself. “What are you doing here?” he asked again.

“At school the other day, in the art room, I didn’t say everything I needed to.”

“You sure?” he asked. “You said quite a bit.”

I cringed. “I may have gone overboard.”

“Well, you weren’t entirely wrong.” But he didn’t elaborate beyond that. “Is that the flannel I gave Amy?”

I looked down at the red shirt. “Oh, yeah. It is. She’s not really into grunge — that was all me — so she gave to me.”

“It looks nice on you,” he said.

“Thank you.” The song on the boom box faded away, so I set the archaic machine down in the grass. “Listen, Ryder, there’s one more thing I needed to —”

The garage door slid open and Ms. Tanner’s car backed out, stopping in the middle of the driveway. She honked the horn once, then stared at us from the driver’s-side window.

“Are you going somewhere?” I asked Ryder, surprised.

“The airport,” he said.

“Oh. Where are you headed?”

“DC.”

My face split into a smile I couldn’t hold back. “You’re visiting your dad?”

“Yeah. Mom’s not too thrilled about it, but … So you had something you wanted to say, Sonny?”

“Right. Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “I know I said a lot of things the other day, about your flaws. And I meant it. You’re pretentious and stubborn and you drive me insane sometimes, but … I love you. And I just needed you to know that.”

There, I’d said it. I now wanted to throw up. But I’d said it.

I hadn’t expected him to say it back. I really hadn’t. But for just a second, as we stood there in his front yard, I thought he might. I thought my grand gesture, my honesty, might have won him over.

He opened his mouth, but before any words could come out —

“Ryder!”

We both turned and saw his mother leaning out the open driver’s-side window.

“We’ve got to go,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, looking back at me. “I’ve got to go.”

He started to walk away, but I panicked and grabbed his arm and nearly tripped over the boom box. “Wait,” I said. “Just wait. Can … can you catch a later flight?”

“No,” he said. “That only works in the movies.”

I let go of his arm, feeling defeated all over again.

“Sonny, I …” He stopped himself, then shook his head. “I’ve got to go,” he repeated.

“Okay,” I said.

I stayed where I was, watching as he walked away.

He climbed into the passenger’s side, and his mom rolled up her window. She acted as if I wasn’t there now, a heartbroken teenage girl with an old boom box in the middle of her front lawn.

I felt my bottom lip begin to tremble, and I choked back the lump in my throat. I didn’t want anyone, but especially her, to see me cry. I stood there, telling myself that this was exactly what I’d expected. That I’d had no preconceived notions of changing his mind or convincing him to forgive me. That I’d only come here to tell him how I felt, to finish off my confession.

But that vow of honesty meant I had to be honest with myself, too, and the truth was, part of me had held on to hope. Some small part of me had thought that this big romantic gesture and declaring my love for him eighties-movie-style would be enough. That maybe it would make him see that, no matter how I’d screwed up, I was still the girl he’d fallen for. Twice.

But his mom was pulling out of the driveway now, delicately maneuvering past Gert, and turning onto the street. Chauffeuring him off to a plane that would take him even farther from me.

It’s over, I thought.

But then —

Maybe it was just my imagination or wishful thinking, but I thought I saw Ryder look back at me as they drove away.