Hunter: I’m worried about you. Where are you?
Ridge: I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Are you okay?
Hunter: I’ll bring your purse to you. Just tell me where you are.
I drop the phone onto the coffee table and sink back onto the couch. I have no idea what I’m going to do. Of course, I never want to speak to either of them again, but where does that put me? I can’t afford my own apartment right now, since financial aid doesn’t come in for another month. I don’t have enough money in savings to put down a deposit plus get all the utilities turned on until then. The majority of the friends I’ve made since I’ve been going to school here still live in dorms, so staying with them is out of the question. I’m basically left with two options: Call my parents, or enter into some odd plural relationship with Hunter and Tori in order to save money.
Neither option is one I’m willing to entertain tonight. I’m just thankful that Ridge allowed me to stay at his place. At least I’m saving money on a hotel room. I have no idea where I’ll go when I wake up in the morning, but that’s still a good twelve hours away. Until then, I’ll just continue to hate the entire universe while I feel sorry for myself.
And what better way to feel sorry for myself than while getting drunk?
I need alcohol. Bad.
I walk to the kitchen and begin to scan the cabinets. I hear the door to Ridge’s bedroom open. I glance over my shoulder at him as he comes out of his room.
His hair is definitely light brown. Take that, Tori.
He’s in a faded T-shirt and jeans, and he’s barefoot, eyeing me inquisitively as he makes his way into the kitchen. I feel a little embarrassed for being caught rummaging through his cabinets, so I turn away from him before he sees me blush.
“I need a drink,” I say. “You got any alcohol?”
He’s staring down at his phone, texting again. He either can’t do two things at once, or he’s upset because I had an attitude with him today.
“I’m sorry if I was a bitch to you, Ridge, but you have to admit, my response was a little justified considering the day I’ve had.”
He casually slips his phone into his pocket and looks at me from across the bar, but he chooses not to respond to my half-assed apology. He purses his lips and cocks an eyebrow.
I’d like to smack that cocky eyebrow back down where it belongs. What the hell is his problem? The worst thing I did to him was flip him off.
I roll my eyes and shut the last cabinet, then walk back to the couch. He’s really being a jerk, considering my situation. From the little time I’ve known him, I was under the impression that he was actually a nice guy, but I’d almost rather go back to my own apartment with Tori and Hunter.
I pick up my phone, expecting another text from Hunter, but it’s from Ridge.
Ridge: If you aren’t going to look at me when you speak, you might want to stick to texting.
I read the text several times, trying to make sense of it, but no matter how many times I read it, I don’t understand it. I grow concerned that maybe he’s a little weird and I need to leave. I look at him, and he’s watching me. He can see the confusion on my face, but he still doesn’t explain himself. Instead, he resumes texting. When my phone receives another message, I look at the screen.
Ridge: I’m deaf, Sydney.
Deaf?
Oh.
Wait. Deaf?
But how? We’ve had so many conversations.
The last few weeks of knowing him and talking to him flash through my memory, and I can’t recall a single time I’ve actually heard him speak.
Is that why Bridgette thought I was deaf?