Youssef
POLYPHONY: An instrument with the ability to produce more than one note at once
Through what I’msure is an effort of extreme force of will and unrelenting stubbornness, Paige gets herself out of the shower, into her bedroom, and puts on a pair of sweatpants and plaid button-up shirt without my help.
“Your buttons aren’t lined up,” I tease when she calls me in to help her get the sling on. She glares at me in answer.
When everything is all in place, she climbs back into bed. I’m about to ask her if she wants me to bring her laptop or something since she can’t possibly be ready to sleep again, but as soon as she settles herself on the pillows, her eyes start drooping.
She looks so cute all sleepy like that. It softens the sharp beauty of her face, makes her less of a diamond and more of a rose.
I step closer to the bed. “Can I get you anything?”
She shakes her head, blinking at me.
“You’re pretty wiped out, eh?”
She does her best to glare again. “No, I’m just—”
A huge yawn cuts her off.
“Right. You’re wide awake.”
“You’re a—” She yawns again, and her words start slurring together. “You’re a...a goober.”
I put a hand on my chest. “A goober? Wow, I’ve never been so offended in my life.”
“Mmm.”
I chuckle. “Okay, well, I’m going to be out on the couch all night if you need anything. I just have to run home now and feed Sufjan, but your phone is right there if—”
“Sufjan?” A moment of lucidity comes over her. “You named your pet after Sufjan Stevens?”
I laugh at her grimace. Back in high school, I was always trying to get her to listen to Sufjan Stevens’ music, and she would always complain about it.
“Of course I did. Who else would I name my cat after?”
“Oh my god, you’re obsessed.” She lets out a smaller yawn, and her head lolls to the side. “Ob-sessed. Ob-sesssssed.”
Then she passes out.
I grab a glass of water from the kitchen and leave it beside her bed, next to her phone and painkillers. I decide to leave the desk lamp on, since that will be safer if she needs to get up while I’m gone.
I take a look at her face, smooth and carefree as she sleeps, and try to imagine all the things she’s done and seen and thought since she was sixteen. In some ways, it feels like nothing has changed. In others, it feels like we’re separated by a whole lifetime.
I head for the door, the past heavy on my shoulders, and the sound of her voice makes me freeze.
“Youssef?”
I turn and find her with her eyes still closed. “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
I wince at the twinge in my chest. “Anytime.”
Out on the sidewalk, the cool night air hits me like a head rush. I stare around the street like somebody who’s stumbled into the world by accident, and I guess in a way I have. My world shifted as soon as I spotted Paige’s face through the car window when we passed the accident. A million thoughts exploded in me at that moment, but they were all background noise compared to the one thing I was absolutely sure of: I needed to get to her.
She needed me, and I knew without a shred of doubt that I needed her.
