She flips me off.
I look at Maggie; luckily, shes 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 her and Warren a quick drink to wash away the aftertaste.
Lets go, Warren says after he downs the milk and tosses his cup into the sink. Ridge is driving cuz I wont be able to walk in three hours.
9.
Sydney
I have no idea where were going, but Im doing my best to appear engaged.. Im in the backseat with Warren, and hes talking to me about the band, explaining his involvement in it. I ask the appropriate questions and nod at the appropriate moments, but my mind isnt here at all.
I know I cant expect the hurt and heartache to go away this quickly, but today has been the worst day so far since my actual birthday. I realize that all the pain Ive been feeling hasnt been quite as bad because Ive had Ridge this week. I dont know if its the way he brings comedic relief when hes around or if its because I really was developing a crush on him, but the times Ive spent with him were the only times I felt remotely happy. They were the only times I wasnt thinking about what Hunter and Tori did to me.
But now, watching him in the front seat with his hand clasping Maggies . . . I dont like it. I dont like how his thumb occasionally sweeps back and forth. I dont like the way she looks at him. I especially dont like the way he looks at her. I didnt like how he slipped his fingers through hers when we reached the bottom of the apartment stairs. I didnt like how he opened her door, then placed his hand on her lower back while she climbed inside the car. I didnt like how they had a silent conversation while he was putting the car in reverse. I didnt like how he laughed at whatever she said and then pulled her to him so he could kiss her forehead. I dont like how all of these things make me feel as though the only good moments Ive had since last week are now over.
Nothing has changed. Nothing significant happened between the two of us, and I know well continue with the way things have been. Well still write lyrics together. He might still listen to me sing. Well still continue to interact the way weve done since I met him, so this situation shouldnt be bothering me.
I know in my heart that I didnt want anything to happen with him, especially at this point in my life. I know I need to be on my own. I want to be on my own. But I also know that the reason Im feeling so conflicted by this entire situation is that I did have a little hope. Although I wasnt ready for anything right now, I thought the possibility would be there. I assumed that maybe someday, when I was ready, things could have developed between us.
However, now that Maggie is in the picture, I realize there cant be a maybe someday between us. There will never be a maybe someday. He loves her, and she obviously loves him, and I cant blame them, because whatever they have is beautiful. The way they look at each other and interact and obviously care about each other is something I didnt realize was missing between Hunter and me.
Maybe someday Ill have that, but it wont be with Ridge, and knowing that diminishes whatever ray of hope shone through the storm of my week.
Jesus, Im so depressing.
I hate Hunter.
I really hate Tori.
And right now, Im so pathetically miserable, I even hate myself.
Are you crying? Warren asks.
No.
He nods. Yes, you are. Youre crying.
I shake my head. I am not.
You were about to, he says, looking at me sympathetically. He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me against him. Chin up, little girl. Maybe tonight we can find someone who will screw the thought of that jerkoff ex right out of that pretty little head of yours.
I laugh and slap him in the chest.
I would volunteer to do it, but Bridgette doesnt like to share, he says. Shes kind of a bitch like that, if you havent noticed.
I laugh again, but when my eyes meet Ridges in the rearview mirror, my smile fades. His jaw is firm, and his eyes lock with mine for a few seconds before he refocuses on the road in front of him.
Hes unreadable most of the time, but I could swear I saw a small flash of jealousy behind those eyes. And I dont like how seeing him jealous that Im leaning against Warren actually feels good.
Turning twenty-two has rotted my soul. Who am I, and why am I having these awful reactions?
We pull into the parking lot of a club. Ive been here a few times with Tori, so Im relieved that it wont be completely unfamiliar. Warren takes my hand and helps me out of the car, then puts an arm around my shoulders and walks with me toward the entrance.
Ill make you a deal, he says. Ill keep my hands off you tonight so guys wont assume youre madly in love with me. I hate cock blockers, and I refuse to be one. But if anyone makes you uncomfortable, just look at me and give me a signal so I can swoop in and pull you out of the situation.
I nod. Sounds like a plan. What kind of signal do I give you?
I dont know. You can lick your lips seductively. Maybe squeeze your breasts together.
I elbow him in the side. Or maybe I can just scratch my nose?
He shrugs. That works, too, I guess. He opens the door, and we all make our way inside. The music is overwhelming, and the second the doors close behind us, Warren leans in to shout into my ear. There are usually booths open on the balcony level. Lets go there! He tightens his grip on my hand, then turns to Ridge and Maggie and motions for them to follow.
I havent had to use the secret code Warren and I agreed on, and weve been here more than two hours now. Ive danced with several people, but as soon as the song ends, I make it a point to smile politely and head back to the booth. Warren and Maggie seem to have made a nice dent in the liquor stock, but Ridge hasnt had a drop. Other than a shot Warren persuaded me to take when we first arrived, I havent had anything to drink, either.
My feet hurt, I say.
Maggie and Ridge have danced a couple of times but that was to slow songs, so I made it a point not to watch them.
No! Warren says, attempting to pull me back up. I want to dance!
I shake my head. Hes drunk and loud, and every time I try to dance with him, he ends up butchering my feet almost as badly as he butchers the moves.
Ill dance with you, Maggie says to him. She climbs over Ridge in the booth, and Warren takes her hand. They head down to the lower level to dance, and its the first time Ridge and I have been alone in the booth.
I dont like it.
I like it.
I dont.
I do.
See? Rotten soul. Corrupted, rotten soul.
Ridge: Having fun?
Im not really, but I nod, because I dont want to be that annoying, brokenhearted girl who wants everyone around her to feel how miserable she is.
Ridge: I need to say something, and I may be way off base here, but Im attempting to improve on how I unintentionally omit things from you.
I look up at him and nod again.
Ridge: Warren is in love with Bridgette.
I read his text twice. Why would he need to say that to me? Unless he thinks I like Warren.
Ridge: Hes always been a flirt, so I just wanted to clear that up. I dont want to see you get hurt again. Thats all.
Me: Appreciate your concern, but its unnecessary. Really. Have no interest there.
He smiles.
Me: You were right. I like Maggie.
Ridge: I knew you would. Everyone likes Maggie. Shes very likable.
I lift my eyes and look around when a Sounds of Cedar song begins to play. I scoot to the back of the booth and look over the railing. Warren and Maggie are standing by the DJs table, and Warren is interacting with the DJ while Maggie dances around next to him.
Me: Theyre playing one of your songs.
Ridge: Yeah? That always happens when Warrens around. Are they playing Getaway?
Me: Yeah. Howd you know?
Ridge presses a flat palm to his chest and smiles.
Me: Wow. You can differentiate your songs like that?
He nods.
Me: Whats Maggies story? She communicates really well. She seems to dance really well. Does she have a different level of hearing loss from yours?
Ridge: Yes, she has mild hearing loss. She hears most things with hearing aids, which is why she also speaks so well. And she does dance well. I stick to slow songs when she wants me to dance with her, since I cant hear them.
Me: Is that why Maggie speaks out loud and you dont? Because she can hear?
His eyes swing up to mine for a few seconds, and then he looks back at his phone.
Ridge: No. I could speak if I wanted to.
I should stop. I know hes probably annoyed by these questions, but Im too curious.
Me: Why dont you, then?
He shrugs but doesnt text me back.
Me: No, I want to know. There has to be a reason. It seems like it would make things a lot easier for you.
Ridge: I just dont. I get along fine with how I do things now.
Me: Yes, especially when Maggie and Warren are around. Why would you need to talk when they can do it for you?
I hit send before I realize I probably shouldnt have said that. I have noticed Maggie and Warren do a lot of his talking for him, though. Theyve ordered for him every time the waitress has come by the booth, and Ive noticed Warren do it several times this week in different situations.
Ridge reads my text, then looks back up at me. It seems I made him uncomfortable, and I immediately regret saying what I did.
Me: Im sorry. I didnt mean for that to come out how it probably sounded. I just meant you seem to let them do things for you that they wouldnt necessarily have to do if you would speak for yourself.
My explanation seems to bother him even more than the initial text. I feel as if Im digging myself a hole.
Me: Sorry. Ill stop. Its not my place to judge your situation, because I obviously cant put myself in your shoes. I was just trying to understand.
He looks at me and pulls the corner of his bottom lip into his mouth. Ive noticed he does this when hes thinking hard about something. The way he continues to stare at me makes my throat go dry. I break his gaze, pull the straw into my mouth, and take a sip of my soda. When I look back at him, hes texting again.
Ridge: I was nine when I stopped verbalizing.
His text does more to my stomach than his stare did. I dont know why.
Me: You used to talk? Why did you stop?
Ridge: It might take me a while to text the explanation.
Me: Its fine. You can tell me about it at home when we have our laptops.
He scoots to the edge of the booth and peers over the balcony. I follow his gaze down to Maggie and Warren, who are still both hovering around the DJ booth. When he sees that theyre still occupied, he moves away from the railing and leans forward across the table, resting his elbows in front of him as he begins to text.