Maybe Someday(49)

Sydney: You’ve been with Maggie since

you were nineteen?

I nod but don’t text her back. My food has

hardly been touched from all the texting, so I

pick up my burger. She does the same, and we

eat until both of us are finished. We stand up and

clear off the table. Then she gives me a wave and

heads off to her room. I sit on the couch and turn

on the TV. After about fifteen minutes of channel

surfing, I finally stop on a movie channel. The

captioning has been turned off on the TV, but I

don’t bother turning it back on. I’m too tired to

read and follow along with the movie, anyway.

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The door to Sydney’s bedroom opens, and she

walks out, looking slightly startled when she sees

I’m still awake. She’s in one of her baggy shirts

again, and her hair is wet. She walks back to her

room, then comes out with her phone and sits on

the couch with me.

Sydney: I’m not tired. What are you

watching?

Me: I don’t know, but it just started.

She pulls her feet up and rests her head on the

arm of the couch. Her eyes are on the TV, but my

eyes are on her. I have to admit, the Sydney who

went out tonight is a completely different Sydney

from the one lying here. Her makeup is gone, her

hair is no longer perfect, her clothes even have

holes in them, and I can’t help but laugh just

looking at her. If I were Hunter, I’d be punching

myself in the face right now.

She’s beginning to lean forward for her phone

when she cuts her eyes in my direction. I want to

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look back at the TV and pretend she didn’t just

catch me staring at her, but that would make this

even more awkward. Luckily, she doesn’t seem

to care that I was looking at her, because she

gives her attention to her phone.

Sydney: How are you watching this

without captions?

Me: Too tired to read along right now. So-

metimes I just like to watch movies

without captions and try to guess what

they’re saying.

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

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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?

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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.

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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.