Maybe Someday(20)

“But cow well you ass therefore my bird?” she

says.

Or I think that’s what she said. I laugh, knowing I more than likely completely misread her

lips. She says it again when she sees the confu-

sion on my face, but I still don’t understand her. I

hold up my phone so she can text me.

Sydney: But how will you ask them for my

purse?

Yeah. I was a little off on that one.

Me: I’ll get your purse, Sydney. Wait

here.

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She nods. I type out a text as I walk to the

front door and knock. A minute passes, and no

one comes to the door, so I knock again, with

more force, thinking maybe my first knock was

too soft to be heard. The doorknob turns, and

Sydney’s friend appears in the doorway. She eyes

me curiously for a second, then glances behind

her. The door opens wider, and Hunter appears,

eyeing me suspiciously. He says something that

looks like “Can I help you?” I hold up the text

that says I’m here for Sydney’s purse, and he

looks down and reads it, then shakes his head.

“Who the hell are you?” he says, apparently

not liking the fact that I’m here on Sydney’s be-

half. The girl disappears from the doorway, and

he opens the door even farther, then folds his

arms over his chest and glares at me. I motion to

my ear and shake my head, letting him know that

I can’t hear what he’s saying.

He pauses, then throws his head back and

laughs and disappears from the doorway. I glance

to Sydney, who is standing nervously at the top

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of the stairs, watching me. Her face is pale, and I

give her a wink, letting her know everything is

okay. Hunter comes back, slaps a piece of paper

against the door, and writes on it. He holds the

paper up for me to read.

Are you f*cking her?

Jesus, what a prick. I motion for the pen and

paper, and he hands them to me. I write my re-

sponse and hand it back to him. He looks down at

the paper, and his jaw tightens. He crumples up

the paper, drops it to the floor, and then, before I

can react, his fist is coming at me.

I accept the hit, knowing I should have been

prepared for it. The girl reappears, and I can tell

she’s screaming, although I have no idea whom

she’s screaming at or what she’s saying. As soon

as I take a step back from the doorway, Sydney is

in front of me, rushing into the apartment. My

eyes follow her as she runs down the hallway,

disappears into a room, and comes back out

clutching a purse. The girl steps in front of her

and places her hands on Sydney’s shoulders, but

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Sydney pulls her arm back, makes a fist, and

punches the girl in the face.

Hunter tries to step in front of Sydney to block

her from leaving, so I tap him on the shoulder.

When he turns around, I punch him square in the

nose, and he stumbles back. Sydney’s eyes go

wide, and she looks back at me. I grab her hand

and pull her out of the apartment, toward the

stairs.

Luckily, the rain has finally stopped, so we

both break into a run back toward my apartment.

I glance behind me a couple of times to make

sure neither of them is following us. Once we

make it back across the courtyard and up my

stairs, I swing open the door and step aside so she

can run in. I shut the door behind us and bend

over, clasping my knees with my hands to catch

my breath.

What an *. I’m not sure what Sydney

saw in him, but the fact that she dated him makes

me question her judgment a little bit.

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I glance up at her, expecting to see her in tears,

but instead, she’s laughing. She’s sitting on the

floor, attempting to catch her breath, laughing

hysterically. I can’t help but smile, seeing her re-

action. And the fact that she punched that girl

right in the face without a moment’s hesitation?

I’ve got to hand it to her, she’s tougher than I

first thought.

She looks up at me and inhales a calming

breath, then mouths the words thank you, while holding up her purse. She stands up and brushes

the wet hair out of her face, then walks to the kit-

chen and opens a few drawers until she finds a

dishtowel and pulls it out. She wets it under the

faucet, turns around, and motions me over. When

I reach her, I lean against the counter while she

takes my chin and angles my face to the left. She

presses the towel to my lip, and I wince. I didn’t

even realize it was hurting until she touched it.

She pulls the rag back, and there’s blood on it, so

she rinses it under the faucet and puts it back up

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to my mouth. I notice that her own hand is red. I

take it and inspect it. It’s already swelling.