Maybe Someday(29)

yourself you were better off with him, but read

the lyrics you wrote. Go back to what you were

feeling when you wrote them. I circle several lines, then read her words along with her.

With a right turn, the tires start to burn

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I see your smile, it’s been hiding for a while

For a while

Your foot pushes down against the ground

The world starts to blur, can’t remember

who you were

Who you were

I look at her, and she’s still staring at the paper.

A single tear trickles down her cheek, and she

quickly wipes it away.

She picks up the pen and begins writing.

They’re just words, Ridge.

I reply, They’re your words, Sydney. Words that came from you. You say you feel lost without him, but you felt lost even when you were with him. Read the rest.

She inhales a deep breath, then looks down at

the paper again.

I yell, slow down, we’re almost out of town

The road gets rough, have you had enough

Enough

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You look at me, start heading for a tree

I open up the door, can’t take any more

Any more

Then I say,

You don’t know me like you think you do

I pour me one, when I really want two

Oh, you’re living a lie

Living a lie

You think we’re good, but we’re really not

You coulda fixed things, but you missed your

shot

You’re living a lie

Living a lie

Chapter Six

Sydney

I continue to stare at the words in the notebook.

Is he right? Did I write them because that’s

how I really feel?

I never give it much thought when I write lyr-

ics, because I’ve always felt no one would read

them, so it doesn’t matter what the meaning is

behind the words. But now that I think about it,

maybe the fact that I don’t give them much

thought proves that they really are a reflection of

how I feel. To me, lyrics are harder to write when

you have to invent the feelings behind them.

That’s when lyrics take a lot of thought, when

they aren’t genuine.

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Oh, wow. Ridge is absolutely right. I wrote

these lyrics weeks ago, long before I knew about

Hunter and Tori.

I lean back against the headboard and open my

laptop again.

Me: Okay, you win.

Ridge: It’s not a competition. Just trying

to help you see that maybe this breakup

is exactly what you needed. I don’t know

you very well, but based on the lyrics you

wrote, I’m guessing you’ve been craving

the chance to be on your own for a while

now.

Me: Well you claim not to know me very

well, but you seem to know me better

than I know myself.

Ridge: I only know what you told me in

those lyrics. Speaking of which, you feel

like running through them? I was about to

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compile them with the music to send to

Brennan and could use your ears. Pun

intended.

I laugh and elbow him.

Me: Sure. What do I do?

He stands and picks up his guitar, then nods

his head toward the balcony. I don’t want to go

out on that balcony. I don’t care if I was ready to

leave Hunter, I sure wasn’t ready to leave Tori.

And being out there will be too much of a

distraction.

I crinkle my nose and shake my head. He

glances across the courtyard at my apartment,

then pulls his lips into a tight, thin line and

slowly nods his head in understanding. He walks

over to the bed and sits on the mattress next to

me.

Ridge: I want you to sing the lyrics while I

play. I’ll watch you so I can make sure

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we’re on the same page with where they

need to be placed on the sheet music.

Me: No. I’m not singing in front of you.

He huffs and rolls his eyes.

Ridge: Are you afraid I’ll laugh at how aw-

ful you sound? I can’t HEAR YOU,

SYDNEY!

He’s smiling his irritating smile at me.

Me: Shut up. Fine.

He sets the phone down and begins playing the

song. When the lyrics are supposed to come in,

he looks up, and I freeze. Not because I’m

nervous, though. I freeze because I’m doing that

thing again where I’m holding my breath because

seeing him play is just . . . he’s incredible.

He doesn’t miss a beat when I skip my intro.

He just starts over from the beginning and plays

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the opening again. I shake myself out of my

pathetic awe and begin singing the words. I

would probably never be singing lyrics in front of

anyone one-on-one like this, but it helps that he

can’t hear me. He does stare pretty hard, though,

which is a little unnerving.

He pauses after every stanza and makes notes