I met Ryder when I was seven. We were in the same music class and were the new kids in town- it had been tough making friends. Who would have thought that seven-year-olds could be cliquey?  

I sat in the back while all my other classmates played together. I was tinkering around with the fake mic set and xylophone, humming the song my dad had been teaching me that week, when a little boy came up to me and said, "You suck. You sound like a booger." 

It sounded stupid now, but at the time, it stung.

That little boy was Ryder. I had thought being the new kid made it hard for him to make friends too, but in that moment, I thought something else- brat. My little self, not one to step back from a fight, retorted back, "You look like a booger." 

And that's how we met. 

Hate at first sight. 

Everyone, including our parents, thought we were the best of friends, sitting in the back away from the other kids, in our own little world, messing around with the instruments. But the reality was, each and every day, we were fighting, somedays over a toy, over an instrument, and sometimes just plain wrestling.

"You are so ugly," he screamed pulling my brown curls.

"At least I don't have a poopy face," I yelled back pinching his arm.

I couldn't tell you what we were fighting over that day. It was just awful. Each day the teachers broke us apart and placed us in time out, across the room from one another. But somehow, even 100 feet apart, we managed to argue.

I'm surprised we made it as long as we did.

But then one day, Audrey Stevens, the belle of the class, who in my opinion was spoiled rotten, started crushing on Ryder. At this point, neither Ryder nor I had any friends, but we had a mutual enemy status I liked to think meant something. Audrey came over to us that day during class and attempted to get Ryder to go outside and play.

"Come play outside with us-we can play house. You can be my husband. Everyone wants to be my husband," Audrey bragged.

"Nope. I'm good. House is lame," Ryder said as he shook the maracas in her face, dismissing her.

She didn't seem to be having it. At seven years old, Audrey was used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it. "Why are you even with Rosie? She's so lame. And gross."

My face fell. I had never done anything to Audrey and it was hard enough making friends, I didn't need a bully on top of it. 

But before I could defend myself, Ryder stood up and said "I happen to think she's pretty cool. I mean she sucks at the drums, but at least she's nicer than you. So you can leave now."

I think both Audrey and I were a little dumbstruck.

"Fine. I'll go get another husband. You're a gross booger anyway," she exclaimed.

She tightened the massive bow on her head and stormed off while I just stared at Ryder. He seemed to feel my leering gaze when he snapped, "What? Stop staring."

"You like me," I teased.

He rolled his eyes and responded, "Haha no. I just don't want to hear her screeching voice every day, I already have to listen to yours. Plus, if I left, you would be alone-like a loser."

He pretended to be annoyed, but I saw him smile.

"Thanks, booger," I said smiling up at him.

And from then on, we were friends. 

He had my back, and I had his.

As we grew older, our love for music only grew from that early music class. We used to spend countless hours strumming our guitars and harmonizing, singing our favorite melodies. My dad had set up a music studio in our old den, but our favorite place had always been the roof above my room. The night sky enveloped us, making us feel free, yet safe at the same time. It could be said that music brought us together, even if it was just a pair of maracas.

Ryder became family. It was perfect, he and my dad loved music. He won mom over with his charm. And Evalyn adored him. And I...well...he was my first crush. It was hard not to-with his green eyes, playboy smile, and sharp jawline, he was a hard-to-miss kind of attractive. 

And damn, did he know it. 

Girls threw themselves at him all the time, and he didn't mind the attention. Who am I kidding, he loved it, flirting back, playing into the douchey fuckboy aesthetic. I fell for it too. Thinking that maybe one day, he would feel the same way, but I never said anything. 

It never seemed like the time, and what we had was enough.

Then my family died. And then he disappeared too. 

I would later learn why he left- he joined a band. It was always our dream to hit the road together. To create an album and sing music that broke people's hearts, while healing them, all in the same melody. 

But, he trashed those dreams and made the music we had loved together with strangers.

Truthfully, his band didn't even matter. What hurt the most, was that he never said goodbye, that he walked away, and let me crumble. He took everything that I had left, him and music. I hated myself for needing someone to help me, but I did, and he wasn't there. 

And at that moment, I knew that he wasn't worth it. 

All my love faded, and I became angry. 

My soul broke when my family died and I froze. Nothing good seemed to exist, life was cruel and unfair, leaving me behind. I became closed off, living to survive, not surviving to truly live. 

I took care of myself, pretty shittly for a few months. Bankrupting the house, barely making rent, and losing myself. It took a while, a bit of cynicism, and then a new, tougher Ro emerged. My dreams changed to one thing-make rent. I learned to be okay with that. 

I was a waitress...

...for now. Maybe the music would come later.

It wasn't Ryder's fault that everything went to shit, but he added to the pain when took away the only thing that I had left-music. I didn't know where he was or what he was doing for the past two years, and I honestly didn't care.

But now, Ryder was back, whispering words that I had once dreamed of hearing. The pain of the past still stung, but somehow, my heart still fluttered at his words. 

I knew he was playing me, his smirk and wink all suggesting this was some game to him. He still didn't seem to care that this was my life that he was messing with.

I was over him, I hated him, I repeated to myself. I thought I couldn't feel anything anymore, yet a few minutes with him, and he was beginning to unthaw my cold heart.

I watched his retreating back for a moment longer, before turning around and walking away.