Maybe Someday (Maybe #1)(38)

I smile at her and nod.

Sydney: Well, thanks. I try.

Me: I don’t mean for this to come off as insensitive, but if your father is a lawyer and you still have a relationship with your parents, why did you not call them last week? When you had nowhere to go?

Sydney: The primary thing my mother instilled in me was the fact that she didn’t want me to be her. She had no education and has always been completely dependent on my father. She raised me to be very independent and financially responsible, so I’ve always taken pride in not asking for their help. It’s hard sometimes, especially when I really need their help, but I always get by. I also don’t ask for their help because my father would point out in a not-so-nice way that if I were in law school, he’d be paying for it.

Me: Wait. You’re paying for school on your own? But if you changed your major to prelaw, your father would pay for it?

She nods.

Me: That’s not really fair.

Sydney: Like I said, my father is an asshole. But I don’t go around blaming my parents for everything. I have a lot to be thankful for. I’ve grown up in a relatively normal household, both of my parents are alive and well, and they support me to an extent. They’re better than most, just worse than some. I hate it when people spend their entire lives blaming their parents for every bad thing that happens to them.

Me: Yeah. I completely agree, which is why I was emancipated at sixteen. Decided to take my life into my own hands.

Sydney: Really? What about Brennan?

Me: I took him with me. The courts thought he stayed with my parents, but he moved in with me. Well, with Warren. We’ve been friends since we were fourteen. Both of his parents are deaf, which is how he knows ASL. Once I became emancipated, they allowed me and Brennan to stay with them. My parents still had guardianship over Brennan, but as far as they were concerned, I did them a huge favor by taking him off their hands.

Sydney: Well, that was incredibly considerate of Warren’s parents.

Me: Yes, they’re great people. Not sure why Warren turned out the way he did, though.

She laughs.

Sydney: Did they continue to raise Brennan after you left for college?

Me: No, we actually only stayed with them for seven months. When I turned seventeen, I moved us into an apartment. I dropped out of school and got a GED so I could start college sooner.

Sydney: Wow. So you raised your brother?

Me: Hardly. Brennan lived with me, but he was never the type who could be raised. He was fourteen when we got our own place. I was only seventeen. As much as I’d like to say I was the responsible, mature adult, I was quite the opposite. Our apartment became the hangout for everyone who knew us, and Brennan partied just as hard as I did.

Sydney: That shocks me. You seem so responsible.

Me: I wasn’t as wild as I probably could have been, being on my own at that young an age. Luckily, all our money went to bills and rent, so I never got into any bad habits. We just liked to have fun. Our band was formed when Brennan was sixteen and I was nineteen, so that took up a lot of our time. That’s also the year I started dating Maggie, and I calmed down a lot after that.

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.

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 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. Sometimes 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 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?