Maybe Someday(95)

wishing I could be in it. I want to be as far away

as I can get right now from Ridge and Maggie

and Warren and Bridgette and Hunter and Tori

and everything and everyone.

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“Ridge wants me to take you to a hotel until

your apartment is ready, but is there anywhere

else you’d rather go?”

Warren is now sitting in the driver’s seat, and

I’m in the front passenger’s seat. I don’t even re-

member our getting into his car. I turn and look

at him, and he’s just staring at me. The car hasn’t

even been cranked yet.

God, I feel so pathetic. I feel like a burden.

“It’s laughable, isn’t it?” I say.

“What?”

I gesture to myself. “This.” I lean my head

against the headrest and close my eyes. “I should

just go back home to my parents. I’m obviously

not cut out for this.”

Warren sighs. “Not cut out for what? College?

Real life?”

I shake my head. “Independence in general,

really. Hunter was right when he told me I’d be

better off living with him than on my own. He

was right about that, at least. I’ve been in Ridge’s

life less than three months, and I’ve successfully

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ruined his entire relationship with Maggie.” I

look out the window, up to his empty balcony.

“I’ve also ruined his entire friendship with me.”

Warren cranks the car, then reaches over and

squeezes my hand. “Today is a really bad day,

Syd. A really, really bad day. Sometimes in life,

we need a few bad days in order to keep the good

ones in perspective.” He lets go of my hand and

backs out of the parking spot. “And you’ve made

it this long without having to go back to your par-

ents. You can make it three more days.”

“I can’t afford a hotel, Warren. I spent my sav-

ings on furniture and the deposit for the new

apartment. Just take me to the bus station. I’ll go

stay with my parents for a few days.” I pick up

my phone in order to bite the bullet and call

them, but Warren pulls it out of my hands.

“First of all, you need to stop blaming yourself

for what’s happening with Ridge and Maggie.

Ridge is his own person, and he knows right from

wrong. He was the one in the relationship, not

you. Second, you need to allow Ridge to pay for

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this hotel, because he’s the one making you leave

without a notice. As much as I love the guy, he

sort of owes you big-time.”

I watch the empty balcony as we drive away.

“Why do I feel like I’ve been taking Ridge’s

handouts since the day I met him?” I look away

from the balcony, feeling the anger building in

my chest, but I don’t even know who I’m mad at.

Love, maybe? I think I’m mad at love.

“I don’t know why you feel the way you do,”

Warren says, “but you need to stop. You’ve nev-

er asked any of us for a single thing.”

I nod, trying to agree with him.

Maybe Warren is right. Ridge is just as guilty

in this as I am. He’s the one in the relationship.

He should have asked me to leave as soon as he

knew he was developing feelings for me. He also

should have given me more than five minutes to

move out. He made me feel like more of a liabil-

ity than someone he’s supposed to care about.

“You’re right, Warren. And you know what? If

Ridge is paying, I want you to take me to a really

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nice hotel. One with room service and a minibar

full of tiny bottles of Pine-Sol.”

Warren laughs. “That’s my girl.”

Ridge

It’s been seventy-two hours.

Three days.

Enough time for me to come up with even

more things I need to say to Maggie. Enough

time for Warren to let me know that Sydney is fi-

nally in her own apartment. He wouldn’t tell me

which one, but that’s probably for the best.

Seventy-two hours has also been enough time

for me to realize that I miss having Sydney in my

life almost as much as I miss Maggie. And it’s

enough time to know that I’m not going another

day without talking to Maggie. I need to know

that she’s okay. I’ve done nothing but pace this

apartment since the moment I lost her.

Since the moment I lost both of them.

I pick up my phone and palm it for several

minutes, too scared to text her. I’m afraid of what

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her response will be. When I finally do type out a

text, I close my eyes and hit send.

Me: Are you ready to talk about it?

I stare at my phone, waiting for her to respond.

I want to know if she’s okay. I want to be able to