I stop trying to explain to Sydney my relationship with Bridgette. Besides, I kind of like that no one gets it. And even though we had this really crazy, non-sexual experience with the hand-holding and the cheek kissing the other day, it hasn’t affected us in the bedroom. In fact, last night we moved past the slow and steady streak we’ve been on and played out a fantasy of mine that involved her Hooters uniform.
“You should try to get a job at Hooters,” I tell Sydney. I know she’s been looking for work, and even though it doesn’t seem up her alley, the tips really are good.
“No thanks,” she says. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in those shorts.”
“They’re actually very nice shorts. Soft. Stretchy. You’d be surprised. And last night when Bridgette was pretending she was serving me a platter of hot wings, I reached down and . . .”
“Warren,” Sydney says. “Stop. I don’t care. How many times do I have to tell you I don’t care about your sex life?”
I frown. Ridge doesn’t really like to hear about it, either, and I can’t tell Bridgette because she’s a part of the story and it would just be redundant. I miss Brennan. He always listened.
Bridgette’s bedroom door opens, and I watch as her eyes search the living room for me. I can see a hint of a smile, but she’s good at making sure I’m the only one who sees it.
“Good morning, Bridgette,” I say to her. “Sleep well?”
Her eyes fall on Sydney, who’s seated next to me on the couch again. She looks away, but not before I see a flash of hurt on her face.
“Screw you, Warren,” Bridgette says, turning her attention toward the refrigerator.
Still, after holding hands and kissing my cheek, she thinks I’d ever mess with another girl?
I watch her as she slams stuff around in the kitchen, angrily. “I don’t like how she’s up your ass all the time,” Bridgette says. I immediately turn to Sydney and laugh, because for one, she still thinks Sydney can’t hear her, and two, I can’t believe she just said that to me. If that isn’t her laying claim to me, I don’t know what is.
I love it.
“You think that’s funny?” Bridgette says after spinning around. I quickly shake my head and lose my smile, but she throws her hand in Sydney’s direction. “The girl obviously has it bad for you, and you can’t even respect me enough to distance yourself from her until I’m out of the house?” She turns her back to us again. “First she gives Ridge some sob story so he’ll let her move in and now she’s taking advantage of the fact that you know sign language so she can flirt with you.”
I don’t know who to feel worse for, Bridgette or Sydney. Or myself. “Bridgette, stop.”
“You stop, Warren,” she says, turning back around to face me. “Either stop crawling in bed with me at night or stop shacking up on the couch with her during the day.”
I knew it was coming, but I hoped I wouldn’t be here when it finally did.
Sydney reaches her breaking point and slaps her book against her thighs. “Bridgette, please!” she yells. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Christ! I don’t know why you think I’m deaf, and I’m definitely not a whore and I’m not using sign language to flirt with Warren. I don’t even know sign language. And from now on, please stop yelling when you speak to me!”
I’m scared to look at Bridgette. I feel torn, because I want to high-five Sydney for finally standing up for herself, but I want to hug Bridgette because I know this has to be hard for her. I suddenly feel like the prank was the worst prank in the history of pranks.
I glance up just in time to see a flood of hurt wash over Bridgette’s face. She marches to her room and slams her door.
This is going to be impossible to fix. Sydney just single-handedly ruined my entire relationship with that outburst.
Okay, it wasn’t all her. I played a huge part in it, too.
My chest hurts. I don’t like this. I don’t like the silence, and I don’t like the fact that I’m about to have to go make this right. I put my hands on my knees and begin to stand. “Well, there goes my chance to act out all the role-playing scenes I’ve been imagining. Thanks a lot, Sydney.”
She pushes her book off her lap and stands up. “Screw you, Warren.”
Ouch. Double hurt.
Sydney walks over to Bridgette’s bedroom door and knocks. After a few seconds, she cautiously slips inside and closes the door behind her.