Page 10 of Make Me Sin (Bad Habit 2)
“At any rate, Big Daddy apparently has some rare neurological condition called synesthesia that allows him to see musical notes and certain other sounds as colors. No—chromesthesia, that’s it. It probably makes him a little crazy.”
When I stare at him blankly, Jamie provides further explanation.
“So not only can he memorize a song in one pass because he’s using more than one sense to experience the music, he also has perfect pitch.”
I make a sound that indicates I’m not getting it.
“Okay, imagine a fireworks show. You’ve got yellows, greens, whites, reds, blues, all the colors of the rainbow exploding in the air above your head.”
I nod, following him so far.
“That’s what it’s like for people with this particular type of synesthesia. Every song they hear is a symphony of three-dimensional color they can see, not just musical notes they hear. They see the song. It hangs in the air all around them, like a living rainbow.”
Stunned, I sag back into my chair. I try to imagine it, and fail. What must that be like, to live with a kaleidoscope of color all around you, flitting like butterflies in the air?
A terrible thought strikes me: Does A.J. hate me because of the way I sound? Does he see the color of my voice as a putrid vomit yellow?
Jamie cocks his head. “What?”
I whisper in horror, “Is my voice ugly?”
Because he knows me so well, he grasps my meaning without further explanation. He rolls his eyes. “No, bug, your voice isn’t ugly.”
Unconvinced, I cover my mouth with my hands. It suddenly makes so much sense. The way A.J. sneers at me. The way he seems to cringe in my presence. His inexplicable dislike.
I am killing him with my hideous voice. When I speak, he sees diarrhea flying through the air.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Chloe, stop being so dramatic.” Jamie stands and pulls me to my feet. “Honestly, if you just understood men, your life would get a lot easier.”
I’m offended. “I understand men!”
His raised brows refute my statement.
“And what
is that supposed to mean, anyway? How does it apply to Prince Charming out there?”
The look my brother gives me is almost as penetrating as one of A.J.’s. “You call the man you claim to not be able to stand Prince Charming?”
I produce an extravagant sigh. “I’m being sarcastic, obviously.”
“Obviously. In exactly the same way he calls you Princess. Which irritates you so much.”
His logic is irritating, too. “It’s not the same thing! And he started it!”
Jamie’s expression grows stern. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that, because you’re better than that, Chloe Anne. And you’re far too old to be throwing temper tantrums. If you don’t like him—or anyone else for that matter—just be polite and move on. Show some class.”
Immediately, I’m ashamed of myself. If it were my mother delivering this lecture, I’d be able to shrug it off with no problem. Coming from Jamie, it makes me feel about two feet tall.
“All right, c’mon,” says Jamie, pulling me into a hug. He releases me and smooths a hand over my hair. “Let’s go out there and show Big Daddy you have some manners, shall we?”
I grimace. “Will you please stop calling him that? It’s so . . .”
“Hot? Like him?” Jamie grins.
“Weird.”
He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Sexy? Like him?”
