Chapter 47
47
Sybil
“Join the party,” Deacon said, looking up from where he was reading on the couch. He spread one arm across the back of the cushion and coaxed me forward. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my numerous charms at bay.”
He pulled me against him, squeezing my shoulder, and I sank into him, inhaling the scent of his soap. He was wearing his glasses, which he only did for reading. I didn’t even know he needed glasses until he started classes. “What are you studying?”
“It’s for my psych class.” He closed the book, using his finger to mark his place. “The professor is having us read popular books in addition to the textbook.”
“ ADHD for Smart Ass Women ,” I said, tracing a finger over the title. I touched my pocket; it was an automatic habit to search for my phone, though Emi had confiscated it that morning. “Good book?”
“Well, it’s homework,” he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “But, yeah, not bad. Did you know women are underdiagnosed because ADHD often looks different in them than in boys and men, and professionals haven’t paid attention to the differences for years? Isn’t that fucked up?”
I nodded. “But you’re gonna change all that when you’re Dr. Deacon?”
He laughed and opened the book again. “Nah, but I’ll learn from the people already changing things.” Everyone had been surprised when Deac finally shared he had started school to study psychology. I wasn’t, though. He was fun and wild and unpredictable, but he always had a spark for helping people. When he talked about people he served with, his expression was different. He was planning to reenlist, but I always thought he’d make a good therapist someday. Someday. Not today, because he was currently flashing his abs and smirking. “Dr. Deacon has a nice ring to it, though. Might sound good screamed by the next woman who can’t resist me, huh?”
“Never change, Deac.” I laughed, something I hadn’t done much of at all in the previous few days. It felt good, if a little forced, and I snuggled against him, pushing the hem of his T-shirt back down. “Just don’t let me near your admissions office.”
He didn’t respond to that but tightened his hold on my shoulder. “You hear from him?”
I shook my head. “No, and Emi took my phone.”
“Want me to distract her so you can get it back? She thinks I don’t notice how she checks me out when I take my shirt off, but nothing escapes me.”
I laughed again, thankful for our easy rapport. “No, she was right. I was in bad shape waiting for a reply.” I must have sent fifteen texts and left a bunch of voicemails, and nothing. Then I’d felt guilty bothering him while he was taking care of Joe, and then back to knowing I needed to apologize. When Emi had taken my phone, I was curled in a ball on her bed staring at it. “He’s not going to reply. I think I ruined it.”
“You meant well,” he said, still looking down at the book. “How much did you offer the school, anyway?”
“Three million dollars,” I mumbled into his shirt. I wasn’t even sure where I’d pulled the number from, but one felt like a lot, so I figured three would guarantee they let him extend the offer to go back. “I should have asked him, or maybe he’s right and I should just stop doing things. My ideas are bad, Deac.”
“That’s not true,” he said. “Most of your ideas are pretty good. You suggested my last tattoo.” He pointed to the spot on his chest where there was a tattoo of Cupcake’s paw print under his cotton T-shirt. “And you’re the one who made me think of psychology. You told me I was a good listener. No one ever told me that before.” He flipped the page. “And you put together that whole thing at the zoo.”
“But I got my fake boyfriend who’d become a real boyfriend kicked out of medical school. I ruined his chances at being a doctor.”
“Yeah,” he said. “That didn’t work out, and I want to kick his ass for yelling at you like that. I will, you know. If you want.”
I chuckled and pulled my hoodie over my knees. “Marcus was a pretty good defender, and I deserved the yelling.” I toyed with the cuticle on my fingernail. “He thinks I just flit through life waiting for things to happen, that I don’t think about consequences.”
Deacon tensed under me.
“You think he’s right. He probably is.”
“No,” he said, setting the book down on the table in front of us and angling toward me. “He’s not right, not like that, but sometimes you do put off committing to things. You act in the moment a lot. And from what you’ve said about growing up, you got lectured when you failed or struggled and other people saw it, so who could blame you for waiting for things to feel lucky? I mean, you are a lucky person, Syb. Hell, I’m jealous.”
“What’s that thing where you stop being scared of something after you’re around it a lot? I’m probably not scared of fucking up in front of people anymore.”
“Exposure therapy,” he said. “It’s why you’re not scared of my long, thick, and frankly impressive—”
My laugh bubbled out and cut him off. “No, no. I get it. And I was never scared of that.”
He leaned forward and reached for the book, tapping the cover. “I actually thought of you while I was reading this.”
“Think it’ll fix me?”
The laugh fell from his voice. “There’s nothing to fix, Syb.” He handed me the book. “But a lot of what the author talks about in this book reminded me of you, and it’s all about how brains can work differently. It’s a lot about how to make the most of the brain you have, and the tools and resources available to help.” He shrugged and stood, stretching his arms across his chest and leaving me with the book in my hands. “Maybe it’ll give you a different perspective on yourself, because I know how dope you are and I think Kieran does, too.”
Deacon leaned over the couch and dropped a friendly kiss on the side of my head. “If you knew it, too, if you had a different way to look at things, it might make talking to him easier if you get the chance. Trust your own dopeness, my friend.”
It was such a Deacon thing to say, and I mulled over what he’d said as I watched him pack things into his backpack. “Are you going to work?”
“Nah.” He clapped his hands to rouse Cupcake from her snoring. “A buddy of mine is deploying soon and asked me to look out for his little sister when she gets to town to take care of his dog.” He cajoled Cupcake from her spot on the couch. “Taking Cup for a walk, then getting more details from him.”
He led Cupcake to the backyard, and then I flipped through the book, studying the table of contents and wondering if it was possible Deacon was right. There was only one person I wanted to talk about it with, and I turned to the first page of the book, wondering if I’d ever get the chance. I read the first few pages and sank into the couch. If Deac was right, and I hadn’t always been doing things wrong, just doing them differently, my whole life would look different. It wouldn’t change anything with Kieran, but I thought about all the times he’d told me to believe in myself, to focus on my strengths, and I wondered if that was something I could actually do.