? ? ?
Me: Be ready in thirty minutes. We’re going out.
Warren: I don’t want to go, have an early shift tomorrow.
No. He has to go. I can’t go out with Maggie and Sydney by myself.
Me: No, you’re going. Be ready in thirty minutes.
Warren: No, I’m not. Have fun.
Me: You’re going. 30.
Warren: Not going.
Me: Going.
Warren: Not.
Me: Yes.
Warren: No.
Me: Please? You owe me.
Warren: What the hell do I owe you for?
Me: Let’s see, about a year’s worth of rent, for one.
Warren: Low blow, man. Fine.
Thank God. I don’t know what Sydney gets like when she drinks, but if she’s a lightweight like Maggie is, I don’t think I can handle the two of them on my own.
I walk to the kitchen, and Maggie is at the sink, pulling out the bottle of Pine-Sol. She holds it up to ask if I want any, and I shake my head.
“Figured I’d save money if I downed a couple of shots here first. You think Sydney wants any?”
I shrug but pull out my phone to ask her.
Me: You want a shot before we go?
Sydney: No, thank you. Not sure I feel like drinking tonight, but you go right ahead.
“She doesn’t want any,” I sign to Maggie. Warren walks out of his bedroom and sees Maggie pouring a shot from the Pine-Sol container.
Shit. There goes the hiding spot.
He doesn’t even blink when he sees her filling her shot glass. “Make it two,” he says to her. “If Ridge is forcing me to go out tonight, I’m getting so wasted he’ll regret it.”
I cock my head. “How long have you known that wasn’t cleaning solution?”
He shrugs. “You’re deaf, Ridge. You would be surprised how many times I’m behind you and you don’t even know it.” He picks up the shot Maggie poured, and they both turn their attention to something behind me. Their shocked expressions force me to turn around and see what they’re looking at.
Oh, wow.
I shouldn’t have turned around.
Sydney is walking out of her bedroom, but I’m not sure if it’s really Sydney. This girl isn’t wearing baggy shirts or walking around with her hair pulled up and a naked face. This girl is wearing a strapless black dress that’s anything but simple. Her blond hair is down and thick, and I’m thinking it probably smells as incredible as it looks. She smiles past me and says “Thanks” to either Maggie or Warren, one of whom more than likely just told her how great she looks. She’s smiling at them, but then she holds her hands up and yells, “No!” just as a mist of liquid rains down on me from behind.
I spin around, and Warren and Maggie are both coughing and spitting into the sink. Warren is sipping straight from the faucet, making a face that says he didn’t enjoy whatever just went down his throat.
“What the hell?” Maggie says, scrunching up her face and wiping her mouth.
Sydney runs into the kitchen with her hand over her mouth. She’s shaking her head, trying not to laugh, but she looks apologetic at the same time. “I’m sorry,” she keeps saying over and over.
What the hell just happened?
Warren composes himself, then turns to Sydney. He speaks and signs at the same time, which I appreciate. He can’t know how isolating it feels when you’re in a group of people who hear, but no matter what, he always signs when I’m in the room with him. “Did we actually just almost drink an entire shot of Pine-Sol?”