Maybe Someday (Maybe #1)(22)
Maggie’s hair is always straight, whereas Sydney’s is hard to figure out. It seems to change with the weather, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The first time I saw her sitting on her balcony, I thought she had brown hair, but it turns out her hair was just wet. After playing guitar for about an hour that night, I looked at her as she was walking back inside her apartment, and her hair had dried completely and was in piles of blond waves that fell past her shoulders. Today it’s curly and pulled up into a messy knot on top of her head.
Sydney: Stop staring at me.
Shit.
I laugh and attempt to brush away whatever the hell that internal detour was I just took.
Me: You look sad.
The first night she showed up here, she seemed happier than she does right now. Maybe it just took time for reality to sink in.
Sydney: Is there a way we can chat on the computer? It’s a lot easier for me than texting.
Me: Sure. What’s your last name? I’ll friend you on Facebook.
Sydney: Blake.
I open my laptop and search her name. When I find her profile, I send her a friend request. She accepts it almost instantly, then shoots me a message.
Sydney: Hello, Ridge Lawson.
Me: Hello, Sydney Blake. Better?
She nods.
Sydney: You’re a computer programmer?
Me: Already stalking my profile? And yes. I work from home. Graduated two years ago with a degree in computer engineering.
Sydney: How old are you?
Me: 24.
Sydney: Please tell me 24 is a lot better than 22.
Me: 22 will be good for you. Maybe not this week or next week, but it’ll get better.
She sighs and puts one of her hands up to the back of her neck and rubs it, then begins typing again.
Sydney: I miss him. Is that crazy? I miss Tori, too. I still hate them and want to see them suffer, but I miss what I had with him. It’s really starting to hurt. When it first happened, I thought maybe I was better off without him, but now I just feel lost.
I don’t want to be harsh in my response, but at the same time, I’m not a girl, so I’m not about to tell her that what she’s feeling is normal. Because to me, it’s not normal.
Me: You only miss the idea of him. You weren’t happy with him even before you found out he was cheating. You were only with him because it was comfortable. You just miss the relationship, but you don’t miss Hunter.
She looks up at me and cocks her head, narrowing her eyes in my direction for a few seconds before dropping them back to the computer.
Sydney: How can you say I wasn’t happy with him? I was. Until I found out what he was doing, I honestly thought he was the one.
Me: No. You didn’t. You wanted him to be, but that’s not how you really felt.
Sydney: You’re kind of being a jerk right now, you know that?
I set my laptop beside me and walk to my desk. I pick up my notebook and a pen and go back to the bed and take a seat next to her. I flip open my notebook to the first set of lyrics she sent me.
Read these, I write at the top of the page. I set the notebook in her lap.
She looks down at the lyrics, then takes the pen. I don’t need to read them, she writes. I wrote them.
I scoot closer to her and put the notebook in my lap, then circle a few lines of her chorus. I point to them again. Read these as if you weren’t the one who wrote them.
She reluctantly looks down at the notebook and reads the chorus.
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
When I’m certain she’s had time to read them, I pick up the pen and write: These words came from somewhere inside you, Sydney. You can tell 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
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
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