me change,” she says, motioning to her clothes. She pulls clothes from her suitcase, then heads to the bathroom. I put the lid on the Pine-Sol and hide it back under the cabinet.
5.
Sydney
We don’t interact much while we eat. We’re both sitting in the booth with our backs to the wall and our legs stretched out in front of us on the seats. We’re quietly watching the restaurant crowd, and I can’t stop wondering what it’s like for him, not being able to hear anything going on around us. I’m probably too blunt for my own good, but I have to ask him what’s on my mind.
Me: What’s being deaf like? Do you feel like you’re in on a secret that no one else knows about? Like you have a leg up on everyone because the fact that you can’t hear has magnified all your other senses and you’ve got superhuman powers and no one can tell just by looking at you?
He almost spits out his drink while reading my text. He laughs, and it occurs to me that his laugh is the only sound I’ve heard him make. I know that some people who can’t hear can still talk, but I haven’t heard him say a single word all night. Not even to the waitress. He either points to what he wants on the menu or writes it down.
Ridge: I can honestly say I’ve never thought about it like that before. I kind of like it that you think of it that way, though. To be honest, I don’t think about it at all. It’s normal to me. I have nothing to compare it to, because it’s all I’ve ever known.
Me: I’m sorry. I’m being one of those people again, aren’t I? I guess me asking you to compare being deaf to not being deaf is like you asking me to compare being a girl to being a boy.
Ridge: Don’t apologize. I like that you’re interested enough to ask me about it. Most people are a little weirded out by it, so they don’t say anything at all. I’ve noticed it’s kind of hard to make friends, but that’s also a good thing. The few friends I do have are genuine, so I look at it as an easy way of weeding out all the shallow, ignorant assholes.
Me: Good to know I’m not a shallow, ignorant asshole.
Ridge: Wish I could say the same about your ex.
I sigh. Ridge is right, but damn if it doesn’t sting to know I couldn’t see through Hunter’s bullshit.
I put my phone down and eat the last of my cake. “Thank you,” I say as I put my fork down. I honestly forgot for a while that today was my birthday until he offered to take me out for cake.
He shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal, but it is a big deal. I can’t believe after the day I’ve had that I’m actually in a semidecent mood. Ridge can take credit for that, because if it weren’t for him, I don’t know where I’d be tonight or what kind of emotional state I’d be in.
He takes a drink of his soda, then sits upright in the booth. He nods his head to the door, and I agree that I’m ready to go.
The buzz from the alcohol has worn off, and as we make our way out of the restaurant and back into the dark, I can feel myself beginning to succumb to the heartache again. I guess Ridge sees the look on my face, because he puts his arm around me and briefly squeezes my shoulders. He drops his arm and pulls his phone out.
Ridge: For what it’s worth, he doesn’t deserve you.
Me: I know. But it still hurts that I ever thought he deserved me. And honestly, I’m more hurt about Tori than I am about what happened with Hunter. I’m mostly just pissed at Hunter.
Ridge: Yeah, I don’t even know the guy, and I’ve been pretty pissed at him. I can’t imagine how you must feel. I’m surprised you haven’t retaliated with some evil revenge plot yet.
Me: I’m not that clever. I wish I were, because I’d be all about revenge right now.
Ridge stops walking and turns to face me. He cocks an eyebrow, and a slightly wicked grin appears. It makes me laugh, because I can tell by his smile that he’s mapping out a plan.
“Okay,” I say, nodding my head without even knowing what he’s about to
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