[Copyright © 2013 The Daredevil]

All rights reserved.

Dedicated to @tatesrose for the amazing job she did with editing. Check out her book Lips of Nicotine.

***

In all the years that I'd been to the same school as Ryder Cavanaugh, we’d had one conversation. Just one, despite being classmates for almost nine years. It wasn't even a nice conversation, the type of conversation that leaves you with a good feeling. No, oh no.

It happened when were both freshmen. I had just started my job at the school's library and that night was my turn to lock up. Our library was open to the public, so it stayed open even after school hours. Knowing this I'd begged my mom to pick me up, but like I'd known deep down when I'd asked, she was either late or wasn't coming at all. I crossed my fingers it was the latter and made my way to one of the benches next to the building, once I'd made sure to close up behind me.

I had barely sat down, my earbuds in my ears; music blasting when I caught movement in the back of the building, making my heart jump in my throat. This is the part in the movie where you yell at the protagonist to be smart and run, just get the hell up and run away from whatever was lurking in the dark.

But...like all the characters in horror movies do, because apparently, those movies are a lot more accurate than we give them credit for, I did the complete opposite of running. Had I known what was waiting for me around that corner, I would have kept my ass exactly where it was.

Pulling my earphones out of my ears, I stood up and cautiously made my way towards the noise, my heart leaping into my throat when the person moved out of the shadows, before anger settled in.

I recognized him instantly.

Ryder Cavanaugh.

The school's bad boy and daredevil. Well, at least according to the rumors I'd heard. I hardly knew him. I had seen him around school and in some of my classes, but we'd never spoken a word to each other. He lived in his world and I lived in mine. They were two very separate and quite opposite worlds. His world was made up of girls, parties and risks. While mine was homework, quiet evenings at home, and extra credit.

Don't get me wrong, my anger upon seeing him, was not misdirected, it wasn't like my blood boiled at the sight of the dude, again, I barely knew him. It was what he was doing that made any rational thoughts fly out the window at a staggering speed.

Ryder was known around school as Daredevil-Ryder, the guy that did absolutely any dare you dared him to do; and I mean any dare. He was crazy, and in my opinion stupid. Who the hell would put their life at risk to do some idiotic dare a moron has dared him to do?

While he was known as the daredevil, I was mostly known as reliable, safe, boring Casey. The girl who was so predictable, so utterly dull, that just the mention of her name could put you to sleep, as some of the popular kids had so eloquently put it. I was okay with that, I liked living in the shadows. If people didn't know you existed, they didn't care about the secrets you hid.

Returning my focus to the task at hand, I moved closer to him, my hands coiling into tight fists. "Hey!" He slowly turned towards me, gave me a quick glance, then turned back to the wall to continue his work.

"I'm talking to you," I demanded a reply, or at least some sort of acknowledgment. Hearing him sigh with frustration, I raised an eyebrow. What was his deal? He was the one being rude.

"Are you slow or something? I think it's pretty obvious that I don't care." He didn't even turn around to say this, he just kept on doing what he was doing. I glared at his back.

Well then, fuck you too.

"You can't tag those walls!" I informed him with a stern tone.

He sighed, yet again, and slowly turned around to face me. I could hardly make out his features because he was mostly hiding in the shadows, but I knew what I would find. Ryder's face was hard to forget; he was the epitome of sex on legs. I'd seen him enough to know how handsome he really was. And just like I and every other girl in school knew this, so did he.

It really was a waste, with a face like that he could conquer the world, but he was more than happy to feed into cliche narratives and stereotypes.

He'd always been the cute guy girls fawned over, and he'd been good at playing his part even as a kid. And then he'd returned after summer on our first day of high school, and caught every single eye in the room. He was taller, smug, and even more of a heartbreaker.

His smile was his biggest weapon. Ryder had a smile that could literally melt you into a watery mess. His lips were a light shade of pink and were curved perfectly into a small pout, with dimples on both of his cheeks. Pearly white teeth gave his smile the last touch of perfection. The only feature that gave away that Ryder was trouble, was the crook of his nose from being broken one too many times. He was sexy as sin, but if you were smart, you'd stay away. He reeked of trouble and bad choices.

"Are you done checking me out or do you need more time? I know. I'm a lot to take in." He smirked knowingly, his chest puffing out, obnoxiously.

I rolled my eyes. "Cocky much?"

"Whatever." He turned back to his graffiti and resumed working on what he probably thought was a masterpiece. "What do you want?"

"I want you to stop tagging the library wall," I responded, plain and simple.

His head turned towards me for a second before turning back to the wall he was currently tagging. "This is a library? I thought this was where nerds came to hide out, so guys like me wouldn't give them wedgies."

Douche-bag much?

"Are you kidding me?! You know what? Whatever, I don't care...are you going to stop tagging the walls or do I have to get the principal involved?" I crossed my arms and jutted out my hip.

"What's he gonna do? Expel me? I guess I should probably tell you that I was expelled yesterday."

Unbelievable. "So what? Is this your revenge?"

"Don't they wish. This is just for fun. If I was getting revenge, you wouldn't even want to be standing near me." He was probably right. In fact, I should probably haul my ass out of there, but the library was important to me; it was my sanctuary. I wasn't about to let this jerk mess up the walls that the honor students had spent so much time and energy painting.

"I'm calling the cops," I threatened, hoping he would just stop and leave, knowing damn well that there was no way in hell I would be calling any cops. No such luck.

"Look, sweetheart, I don't care what you do, okay?" He grabbed another can from the jacket laying on his motorcycle's seat and turned back to the wall, lifting the can in his hand to resume his work.

"You do know it's illegal to put graffiti on the walls of a building that's on private property, right?" I tried again, trying to sound calm, but failing miserably.

"Hey!" He whirled around like I'd just slapped him, "This is not graffiti," he told me sounding highly offended, pointing at his work, "this is art."

I tilted my head and stared at his work. "Creative," I answered dryly. He'd written the word 'ball-sack' in bold, colorful letters. Instead of a capital "B", he'd drawn what was supposed to be a ball-sack. How mature.

"Why thank you." He bent his tall frame in a bow and spread his arms out. "I try."

Rolling my eyes, I looked around the empty parking lot. Where the hell was my mom? I knew she was usually late, but we were getting past that. She'd promised she would be on time this time, but then again she always promised to be on time 'this time'. I glanced down at my watch and winced. It was ten o'clock. She was two hours late. I hated that she kept making me hope that things would be different.

"What are you doing out here all alone anyways? Waiting for your sugar daddy?" I heard Ryder speak up. I looked up at him and rolled my eyes.

"Are you?" I replied in a clipped tone. I wasn't always a bitch, but the jerk was pushing his luck.

"Touché." He gave me a crooked smile. I'm guessing that smile had gotten him out of a lot of trouble.

"If you must know, I'm waiting for my mom," I mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

"Good for you," he answered, distractedly. Placing his spray paint cans into his jacket, he grabbed it off his bike and pulled it on. "You coming?"

"What?" I asked, my brows knotted in confusion . Coming where?

"I'm giving you a ride home," he told me as he held his bike's helmet out to me. I gave him a shocked look, and he rolled his eyes. "I'm not offering to fuck you, sweetheart. It's just a ride home."

"Are you always so crude?" I let the disgust seep into my tone and he rolled blue eyes, again.

"Are you always so fucking annoying?" he retorted, making a face.

"I asked first," I answered childishly, folding my arms across my chest in annoyance. I scowled when his eyes immediately traveled down there. "My eyes are up here."

"They're there, I'm bored, and I'm a horndog, don't wait for an apology. Now will you get on the damn bike?" He threw his leg over his bike and roared its engine to life. I looked around the parking lot once again, hoping my mom would suddenly show up. I didn't want to get on his bike, I didn't know him.

Who knew, he could be a sociopath for all I knew. But I was desperate, and deep down I knew my mom wasn't coming, her being two hours late was proof of that. But it didn't mean I was a dumbass who got on the back of a motorcycle just because a dude was offering me a ride.

But I knew I was out of options, so when he held the helmet out to me again, expectantly, my resolve started to waver. Taking a reluctant step towards him, I bit down on my lip, worriedly. Noticing my concern, he rolled his eyes and shoved the helmet my way one more time as if to say, 'hurry up.' Seeing no way out, I walked over towards him and grabbed the helmet. Taking one last longing look at the school's parking lot, I pulled the helmet on and climbed onto the back of his bike.

Ryder dropped me off that day and we never spoke of it again. As a matter of fact, we never spoke to each other again. Until now.