Sydney: I want to try it. Put it on mute, and we’ll deaf-watch it together.
I laugh. Deaf-watch? That’s a new one. I point the remote to the TV and press the mute button. She turns her attention back to the TV, but once again, I fail to look away from her.
I don’t understand my sudden obsession with staring at her, but I can’t seem to stop. She’s several feet away. We aren’t touching. We aren’t speaking. She isn’t even looking at me. Yet the simple fact that I’m staring at her makes me feel incredibly guilty, as if I’m doing something wrong. Staring is harmless, so why do I feel so guilty?
I attempt to talk myself out of the feelings of guilt, but deep down, I know exactly what’s happening.
I don’t feel guilty simply because I’m staring at her. I feel guilty for how it’s making me feel.
• • •
This makes twice in a row I’ve been woken up like this. I push away the hand that’s slapping me and open my eyes. Warren is standing over me. He slaps a piece of paper on my chest, then whacks his hand against the side of my head. He walks to the front door and grabs his keys, then leaves for work.
Why is he going to work this early?
I pick up my phone, and it says 6:00 A.M. I guess he’s not leaving early.
I sit up on the couch and see Sydney still curled up at the other end, sound asleep. I pull the paper from Warren off my chest and look down at it.
How about you go to your room and sleep in the bed with your girlfriend!
I wad up the note and stand, then take it to the trash can and bury it. I go back to the couch, put my hand on Sydney’s shoulder, and shake her awake. She rolls onto her back and rubs her eyes, then looks up at me.
She smiles when she sees me. That’s it. All she did just now was smile, but all of a sudden, my chest is on fire, and it feels as if a wave of heat just rolled down the entire length of my body. I recognize this feeling, and it’s not good. It’s not good at all. I haven’t felt this way since I was nineteen.
Since I first began developing feelings for Maggie.
I point to Sydney’s room to let her know she should go to bed, then quickly turn around and head into my bedroom. I pull off my jeans and T-shirt and softly slide into bed next to Maggie. I wrap my arms around her, pull her against my chest, and spend the next half hour falling asleep to a broken record of reminders.
You’re in love with Maggie.
Maggie’s perfect for you.
You’re perfect for her.
She needs you.
You’re happy when you’re with her.
You’re with the one and only girl you’re meant to be with.
10.
Sydney
It’s been two weeks since Ridge and I have worked on lyrics together. A few days after Maggie went home, Ridge ended up leaving for six days because of a family emergency. He was vague about what the emergency was, but it reminded me of when I still lived with Tori and he was absent from his balcony for several days. A family emergency was his excuse then, too.
Based on conversations I’ve heard Warren have on the phone with Brennan, I know it didn’t have anything to do with Brennan. But he’s never mentioned having family other than Brennan. When Ridge returned a few days ago, I asked him if everything was okay and he said things were fine. He didn’t seem to want to share any details, and I’m trying to remind myself that his personal life is none of my concern.
I’ve immersed myself in school, and every now and then, I’ll attempt to write lyrics on my own, but it isn’t the same when I don’t have the music to go along with it. Ridge has been home for a few days now, but he’s spent most of his time in his room catching up on work, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s kept his distance for other reasons.
I’ve been hanging out with Warren a lot and have learned more about his relationship with Bridgette. I haven’t had any more interactions with her, so as far as I know, she still assumes I’m deaf.
Based on what Warren has told me, their relationship is anything but typical. Warren never met Bridgette before she moved in six months ago, but she’s a longtime friend of Brennan’s. Warren says that he and Bridgette don’t get along at all, and during the day, they live separate lives. But at night, it’s a completely different story. He has tried to go into more detail than I care to hear, so I force him to shut up when he begins to overshare.
I’m really wishing he would shut up right now, because he’s in the midst of one of his oversharing moments. I have to leave for class in half an hour, and I’m trying to finish reading a last-minute chapter, but he’s intent on telling me all about last night and how he wouldn’t let her take her Hooters uniform off because he likes to role-play, and oh, my God, why does he think I care to hear this?