Maybe Someday

Chapter Eight

Sydney

Why am I so pissed? We didn’t do anything.

Did we?

I can’t even tell what the hell happened last

night before we fell asleep. Technically, it wasn’t

anything, but then again, it was, which is prob-

ably why I’m so pissed, because I’m so freaking

confused.

First he doesn’t tell me about Hunter for two

solid weeks. Then he fails to mention that he’s

deaf, although I really have no right to be upset

about that. That’s not something I should feel ob-

ligated to have been told.

But Maggie?

Girlfriend?

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How could he fail to mention in the three

weeks I’ve been talking to him that he has a

girlfriend?

He’s just like Hunter. He has a dick and two

balls and no heart, and that makes him Hunter’s

twin. I should probably just start calling him

Hunter. I should just call them all Hunter. From here on out, all men shall be referred to as

Hunter.

My father should be thanking the high heavens

that I’m not in law school, because I am by far

the absolute worst judge of character who has

ever walked the planet.

Ridge: False alarm. It was just Warren.

Sorry about that.

Me: SCREW. YOU.

Ridge: ???

Me: Don’t even.

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A few seconds pass with me staring at my si-

lent phone, and then a knock comes from the

bathroom. Ridge swings the door open and enters

my room, holding his hands with his palms up in

the air as if he has no idea why I’m upset. I

laugh, but it isn’t a happy laugh at all.

Me: This conversation will require a

laptop. I have a lot to say.

I open my computer as he makes his way back

to his room. I give him a minute to log on, then I

open our chat.

Ridge: Can you please explain why you’re

so pissed?

Me: Hmm. Let me count the ways. (1)

You have a girlfriend. (2) You have a girl-

friend. (3) Why, if you have a girlfriend,

was I even in your BEDROOM? (4) You

have a girlfriend!

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Ridge: I have a girlfriend. Yes. And you

were in my room because we agreed to

work on lyrics together. I don’t recall any-

thing happening between us last night to

warrant this reaction from you. Or am I

mistaken?

Me: Ridge, it’s been three weeks! I’ve

known you for three weeks now, and

you’ve never ONCE mentioned that you

have a girlfriend. And speaking of Maggie,

does she even know I moved in?

Ridge: Yes. I tell her everything. Look, it

wasn’t an intentional omission, I swear.

You and I have just never had a conversa-

tion where she came up.

Me: Okay, I’ll let it go that you failed to

mention her, but I’m not about to let

everything else slide.

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Ridge: And this is where I’m confused, be-

cause I’m not clear on what you think we

did.

Me: You’re such a guy.

Ridge: Ouch? I guess.

Me: Can you honestly say that your reac-

tion to the possibility of her being at your

door earlier was a normal, innocent reac-

tion? You were freaking out that she

would see me with you, which means you

were doing something you wouldn’t want

her to see. I know all we did was fall

asleep, but what about the WAY we fell

asleep? Do you think she would have been

okay with the fact that you had your arms

around me all night and your face was

practically glued to my chest? And not

only that, but what about the fact that I

sat between your legs the other night?

Would she have smiled and kissed you

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hello if she had walked in right then? I

doubt it. I’m fairly certain that would have

ended with me being punched.

Ugh! Why is this upsetting me so much? I

bang my head lightly against the headboard out

of frustration.

Moments later, Ridge appears in the doorway

between our bathroom and my bedroom. He’s

chewing on the corner of his bottom lip. His fea-

tures are a lot calmer than when he was in here

just a few minutes ago. He walks slowly into my

room, then sits on the edge of my bed with his

laptop on his knees.

Ridge: I’m sorry.

Me: Yeah. Good. Whatever. Go away.

Ridge: Really, Sydney. I haven’t been

looking at it like that at all. The last thing

I want is for things to be weird between

us. I like you. I have fun with you. But if

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for one second I led you to believe that

something was going to happen between

us, I am so, so sorry.

I sigh and attempt to blink the tears away.

Me: I’m not upset because I thought

something was going to happen between

us, Ridge. I don’t WANT anything to hap-

pen between us. I haven’t even been

single for a whole week yet. I’m upset be-

cause I feel like there was a moment, or

maybe two, when—as much as neither of

us wants to cross that line—we almost

did. And you can deal with your actions on

your own, but the fact that I was unaware

that you had a girlfriend was really unfair

to me. I feel like—

I lean my head back against the headboard and

squeeze my eyes shut, long enough to force back

the tears once more.

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Ridge: You feel like what?

Me: I feel like you almost made me a Tori.

I absolutely would have kissed you last

night, and the fact that I didn’t know you

were involved with someone would have

made me a Tori. I don’t want to be a Tori,

Ridge. I can’t tell you how much their be-

trayal hurts me, and I will never, ever do

that to another girl. So that’s why I’m up-

set. I don’t even know Maggie, yet you

made me feel like I’ve already betrayed

her. And as innocent as you may be, I’m

blaming you for that one.

Ridge finishes reading my message, then

calmly lies back on the bed. He brings his palms

to his forehead and inhales a deep breath. We

both remain still as we think about the situation.

After several quiet minutes, he sits back up.

Ridge: I don’t even know what to say

right now other than I’m sorry. You’re

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right. Even though I thought you knew

about Maggie, I can absolutely see what

you’re saying. But I also need you to

know that I would never do something

like that to her. Granted, what happened

between us last night is not something I

would ever want Maggie to see, but that’s

mostly because Maggie doesn’t under-

stand the process of writing music. It’s a

very intimate thing, and because I can’t

hear, I do have to use my hands or my

ears to understand things that come nat-

urally to others. That’s all it was. I wasn’t

trying to cause anything to happen

between us. I was just curious. I was in-

trigued. And I was wrong.

Me: I understand. I never thought for a

second that your intentions weren’t genu-

ine when you asked me to sing for you.

Everything just happened so fast earlier,

and I was still trying to recover from the

fact that I woke up in your bed and the

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lights were flickering. Then you go and

flash the word “girlfriend” in my face. It’s

a lot to process. And I believe you when

you say you thought I knew about her.

Ridge: Thank you.

Me: Just promise me one thing. Promise

me you will never be a Hunter, and I will

never, ever be a Tori.

Ridge: I promise. And that’s impossible,

because we’re so much more talented

than they are.

He glances up and smiles his smiley smile at

me, which makes me automatically smile in

return.

Me: Now, get out of here. I’m going back

to sleep, because someone spent the

whole night drooling on my boobs and

snoring way too loud.

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Ridge laughs, but before he leaves, he mes-

sages me one last time.

Ridge: I’m excited for you to meet her. I

really think you’ll like her.

He closes his laptop, stands, and walks back to

his room.

I close my laptop and pull the covers over my

head.

I hate that my heart is wishing so bad that he

didn’t have a girlfriend.

? ? ?

“No, she already moved in,” Bridgette says. Her
cell phone is propped up on her shoulder, and

from the sound of it, she just broke the news to

her sister that I’ve taken the empty bedroom.

Bridgette completely ignores that I’m even in the

same room with her and continues talking about

me.

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I know the fact that I haven’t clarified that I’m

not deaf is a little mean, but who is she to assume

I can’t read lips?

“I don’t know; she’s a friend of Ridge’s. I

should have ignored him when he asked if I

would go—in the rain, mind you—and bring her

up to the apartment. Apparently, her boyfriend

dumped her, and she had nowhere else to go.”

She pulls a seat out at the bar and sits with her

back facing me. She laughs at something the per-

son on the other end of the line says. “Tell me

about it. He seems to enjoy taking in strays,

doesn’t he?”

I grip the remote in my hand and hold it tightly

in an attempt to keep from hurling it at the back

of her head.

“I told you not to ask about Warren,” she says

with a sigh. “You know he irritates the hell out of

me, but I just . . . dammit, I just can’t stay away.”

Wait. Did I just hear that correctly? Might

Bridgette have . . . feelings?

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She’s lucky I like Warren, or the remote would

be greeting her pretty little head right now. She’s

also lucky someone is knocking at the door

loudly enough to distract me from hurting her.

Bridgette stands up and turns to face me,

pointing at the front door. “SOMEONE’S . . . AT

. . . THE . . . DOOR!” Rather than answer it, she

walks to her bedroom and closes her door.

So hospitable, that one.

I stand and make my way to the front door,

knowing it’s more than likely Maggie. I place my

hand on the doorknob and inhale a steady breath.

Here we go.

I open the door, and standing in front of me is

one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid

eyes on. Her hair is straight and jet-black, and it

falls around two naturally tanned shoulders. Her

face is smiling. Her whole, entire face is beam-

ing. She’s nothing but a face full of beautiful

white teeth, and they’re smiling at me, and it’s

making me smile back, even though I really don’t

want to.

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I was really hoping she was ugly. I don’t know

why.

“Sydney?” she says. It’s just one word, but I

can tell by her voice that she’s deaf, like Ridge.

But, unlike Ridge, she speaks. And she enunci-

ates really well.

“You must be the girlfriend!” I say with

feigned excitement. Is it feigned? Maybe not. Her entire demeanor is making me feel sunny and

happy, and maybe I am a tiny bit excited to meet

her?

Weird.

She steps forward and gives me a hug. I close

the door behind us, and she slips off her shoes

and heads to the refrigerator.

“Ridge has told me a lot about you,” she says

as she pops open a soda, then walks to the cabin-

et for a glass. “I think it’s great that you’re help-

ing him through his writer’s block. Poor guy has

been stressing for months now.” She fills her cup

with ice and soda. “So how are you fitting in? I

see you’ve survived Bridgette. And Warren has

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to be a pain in the ass.” She looks at me expect-

antly, but I’m still loving the fact that she’s so . . .

Pleasant? Likable? Cheerful?

I smile back at her and lean against the

counter. I’m trying to figure out exactly how to

respond to her. She’s speaking to me as if she can

hear me, so I reply the same way.

“I like it,” I say. “I’ve never lived with this

many people before, so it’s taking some getting

used to.”

She smiles and tucks a lock of her hair behind

her ear.

Ugh. Even her ears are pretty.

“Good,” she says. “Ridge told me about your

shitty birthday last weekend and how he took you

out for cake, but it didn’t make up for you never

having the chance to celebrate.”

I have to be honest. It bothers me that he told

her he took me out for cake. It bothers me, be-

cause maybe he’s right and he does tell her

everything. And it also bothers me because he

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seems to tell me nothing. Not that I’ve earned

that right from him.

God, I hate feelings. Or I hate my conscience.

The two are constantly at war, and I’m not sure

which one I’d rather turn off.

“So,” she says, “we’re going out tonight to

celebrate.”

I pause. “We?”

She nods. “Yeah. Me, you, Ridge, Warren, if

he’s not busy. We can invite Bridgette, but that’s

laughable.” She walks past me toward Ridge’s

bedroom, then turns to face me again. “Can you

be ready in an hour?”

“Um.” I shrug. “Okay.”

She opens Ridge’s bedroom door and slips in-

side. I stand frozen, listening. Why am I

listening?

I hear Maggie giggling behind the closed door,

and it makes me wince.

Oh, yay. This should be fun.

Ridge

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in tonight?”

Maggie shakes her head. “That poor girl needs

to have some fun, with the week she’s had. And

I’ve been so overwhelmed with my internship

and the T word. I need a night out.” She leans

forward and kisses me on the chin. “Do you want

to get a cab so you can drink, or do you want to

drive?”

She knows I won’t drink around her. I don’t

know why she always tries her reverse psycho-

logy on me. “Nice try,” I sign. “I’ll drive.”

She laughs. “I have to change and get ready.

We’re leaving in an hour.” She tries to slide off

me, but I grip her waist and roll her onto her

back. I know for a fact that it never takes her

more than half an hour to get ready. That leaves a

good thirty minutes.

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“Allow me to help you out of your clothes,

then.” I pull her shirt off over her head, and my

eyes drop to the very thin, intricately laced bra

she has on. I grin. “Is this new?”

She nods and smiles her sexy smile. “I bought

it for you. Front clasp, just how you like it.”

I pinch the clasp and undo it. “Thank you. I

can’t wait to try it on.”

She laughs and slaps my arm. I take off her

bra, then lower myself on top of her and drop my

mouth to hers.

I spend the next half hour reminding myself

how much I’ve missed her. I remind myself how

much I love her. I remind myself how good it

feels when we’re together. I keep reminding my-

self over and over, because for the past week, it

felt as if I was starting to forget.

? ? ?

Me: Be ready in thirty minutes. We’re go-
ing out.

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Warren: I don’t want to go, have an early

shift tomorrow.

No. He has to go. I can’t go out with Maggie

and Sydney by myself.

Me: No, you’re going. Be ready in thirty

minutes.

Warren: No, I’m not. Have fun.

Me: You’re going. 30.

Warren: Not going.

Me: Going.

Warren: Not.

Me: Yes.

Warren: No.

Me: Please? You owe me.

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Warren: What the hell do I owe you for?

Me: Let’s see, about a year’s worth of

rent, for one.

Warren: Low blow, man. Fine.

Thank God. I don’t know what Sydney gets

like when she drinks, but if she’s a lightweight

like Maggie is, I don’t think I can handle the two

of them on my own.

I walk to the kitchen, and Maggie is at the

sink, pulling out the bottle of Pine-Sol. She holds

it up to ask if I want any, and I shake my head.

“Figured I’d save money if I downed a couple

of shots here first. You think Sydney wants any?”

I shrug but pull out my phone to ask her.

Me: You want a shot before we go?

Sydney: No, thank you. Not sure I feel

like drinking tonight, but you go right

ahead.

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“She doesn’t want any,” I sign to Maggie.

Warren walks out of his bedroom and sees Mag-

gie pouring a shot from the Pine-Sol container.

Shit. There goes the hiding spot.

He doesn’t even blink when he sees her filling

her shot glass. “Make it two,” he says to her. “If

Ridge is forcing me to go out tonight, I’m getting

so wasted he’ll regret it.”

I cock my head. “How long have you known

that wasn’t cleaning solution?”

He shrugs. “You’re deaf, Ridge. You would be

surprised how many times I’m behind you and

you don’t even know it.” He picks up the shot

Maggie poured, and they both turn their attention

to something behind me. Their shocked expres-

sions force me to turn around and see what

they’re looking at.

Oh, wow.

I shouldn’t have turned around.

Sydney is walking out of her bedroom, but I’m

not sure if it’s really Sydney. This girl isn’t wear-

ing baggy shirts or walking around with her hair

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pulled up and a naked face. This girl is wearing a

strapless black dress that’s anything but simple.

Her blond hair is down and thick, and I’m think-

ing it probably smells as incredible as it looks.

She smiles past me and says “Thanks” to either

Maggie or Warren, one of whom more than

likely just told her how great she looks. She’s

smiling at them, but then she holds her hands up

and yells, “No!” just as a mist of liquid rains

down on me from behind.

I spin around, and Warren and Maggie are

both coughing and spitting into the sink. Warren

is sipping straight from the faucet, making a face

that says he didn’t enjoy whatever just went

down his throat.

“What the hell?” Maggie says, scrunching up

her face and wiping her mouth.

Sydney runs into the kitchen with her hand

over her mouth. She’s shaking her head, trying

not to laugh, but she looks apologetic at the same

time. “I’m sorry,” she keeps saying over and

over.

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What the hell just happened?

Warren composes himself, then turns to

Sydney. He speaks and signs at the same time,

which I appreciate. He can’t know how isolating

it feels when you’re in a group of people who

hear, but no matter what, he always signs when

I’m in the room with him. “Did we actually just

almost drink an entire shot of Pine-Sol?”

He’s eyeing Sydney hard. She answers him,

and he signs her response for my benefit. She

says, “You two weren’t supposed to drink it. It

was supposed to be Ridge. And no, I didn’t actu-

ally put Pine-Sol in there, idiot. I’m not trying to

kill the guy. It was apple juice and vinegar.”

She tried to prank me.

And she failed.

I start laughing and text her.

Me: Nice try. That was a valiant effort, al-

though it backfired.

She flips me off.

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I look at Maggie; luckily, she’s laughing about

it. “There is no way I could live here,” she says.

She walks to the refrigerator and pulls out the

milk, then makes herself and Warren a quick

drink to wash away the aftertaste.

“Let’s go,” Warren says after he downs the

milk and tosses his cup into the sink. “Ridge is

driving cuz I won’t be able to walk in three

hours.”

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