Page 6 of Voices

“You’ve managed to annoy the one who doesn’t get annoyed, Matt. You can stop now,” I chuckle at him.

“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me when I say I know a shortcut.” He smiles, not caring how annoying he is.

It’s all good-natured, though. Ryder is a grouch because he went to bed late last night and had to be up at five thirty for practice. It seems his revolving door of women has finally caught up to him.

“Let’s just order so he can shove food in his yap and shut up for a bit,” Ryder grumbles while looking around for our waitress.

Asher is next to me and nudges my arm to get my attention. He can talk, but he’s more comfortable using ASL. I took a sign language course freshman year after I met him during summer training, and as far as I know, Ryder and I are the only ones who can understand him. Though he prefers to be spoken to with words.

‘You said you recognize that guy from earlier. What about him was familiar,’ he signs.

I shake my head. “I’m not sure. It almost felt like déjà vu. Like I’ve spoken to him before. But there’s no way I could forget eyes like his.”

He nods, looking thoughtful. ‘What did you pick up after he left?’

It doesn’t surprise me that Asher caught that. He’s quiet but observant. He’s the definition of a wallflower. Or whatever the fuck a male version of a wallflower is.

“A sketchbook. He must not have noticed he dropped it when we fell.”

I left it on my seat in my truck after everyone got out. Not that there’s anything bad or embarrassing in it, but I have this urge to protect it.

Rubbing my forehead, I let out a deep breath. When I look up three sets of eyes are staring at me.

“What?”

They glance at each other, making me feel like I’m missing something.

“Why do you look so stressed,” Ryder asks while ripping up a straw wrapper.

“Here you go boys,” our waitress says as she places our large pizza down. “Is there anything else I can get you guys?”

“I think we’re good. Thank you, Jan.” I smile politely at her.

“Alrighty! Well, if you need me, just holler.”

We all dig in, forgetting about the previous conversation. But I know Ryder will ask me about it when we get home.

When we finish eating, we head back outside to my truck. We all hop into my blacked-out F-150 with Ryder in front and Matt and Asher in the back.

I turn on the local rock station asFighting Myselfby Linkin Park starts. Avoiding any more conversation, I crank it up as the bass rumbles through my whole body. I roll down the windows and head home.

“Are you going to tell me what’s stressing you out?”

We’re sitting on our balcony, watching people light Tiki torches in the communal courtyard.

We live in a two-bedroom condo that’s about fifteen minutes from campus. Asher and Matt are on the first floor while Ryder and I are on the second. The whole building is filled with upperclassmen.

I take a sip of my water and look over at him.

“I don’t know man. That guy I ran into has been on my mind all afternoon. And I don’t know why.”

He gives me a look that says I’m full of shit.

“Oh really? So, it has nothing to do with you laying on top of him for ten minutes?”

“It was not ten minutes you ass.” I shove him so hard that he falls off his chair. He lands on his side, laughing his ass off. “Shut up,” I huff.

“Naw, man. This shit is hilarious! You don’t even know his name and he’s already taking over your mind.” He laughs harder.

---