Joyride by Anna Banks

Author:Anna Banks
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781250079053
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends

Seventeen

Sitting on Arden’s bed is not as intimate as I thought it would be given his reputation. I’m not sure what I thought I’d find, but a crisply made bed sporting a simple blue comforter with tightly tucked corners wasn’t in the mental picture. I guess I imagined a tousled king-size bed, with sheets twisted after a passionate one-night stand, possibly lipstick stains on a pillow or two. I just knew there would be walls lined with posters of half-naked women; any real estate left would of course be devoted to shelves of football trophies and other boyish things like model sports cars or something. I even expected to feel dirty here, knowing how many girls had to have been seduced in this very room, on this very bed by those green eyes and sensual lips.

But Arden’s bedroom is … boring. It’s sparsely furnished—a (twin) bed, a single nightstand with a wrought-iron lamp, an outdated wood desk, a worn red recliner facing out of the one window next to a telescope on a tripod. And it’s way neater than I’d figured. For some reason, I had pegged Arden for a slob, I guess because he seems unmotivated in every other aspect of life. But his room is clean, almost unlived in, with fresh vacuum tracks on the carpet by the bed and netted hamper with just a few articles of clothing in it. There are no posters or trophies or shelves on the walls, only a flat-screen TV hung out of the way.

Aside from Arden himself, there is nothing in the neighborhood of sexy here. I try not to acknowledge the relief I feel about this fact. What Arden does or doesn’t do in the privacy of his room—or for that matter, anywhere—is not my concern.

So why do I feel concerned about it?

I’m enfolded in these thoughts when Arden gets back from the restroom. He gives me a quizzical look. “Does it stink in here or something?”

I hope my laugh is not as revealing as it sounds. I would die a slow death if he knew I’d been thinking about him … doing things … in here … Dios mio. “No. I was just … admiring how clean it is.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Why wouldn’t it be? I’m never here.”

“Good point. Does that mean your parents are never here either?” Because from what I’ve seen so far, the rest of the house is just as spotless.

“Mom stays in her room mostly. Dad’s always gone.”

I wait for him to talk about his mom some more, but he doesn’t, so I nod toward the telescope. “Astronomy or pervert?”

He shrugs. “I like the idea of feeling small. Sometimes life can seem bigger than you, you know? But knowing you’re less than a speck in the whole scheme of things takes the pressure off, sort of.” The words hang in the air between us. So much for small talk.

But in a way, I wanted to have this conversation. There are so many things I want to know about Arden.

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