Sweet Sound of Silence

by Melanie Dawn

  FOUR HUNDRED EIGHTY-SEVEN. That’s how many seconds I’d spent sitting in that room on that cold, plastic chair in that sterile office. That’s how many more seconds I’d spent not giving a shit about what my father had been discussing about me with the doctor.

  I glanced up to see my father pacing the floor in a span of four feet. Back and forth. Back and forth. He’d shoved the side of his suit jacket behind him and had one hand stuffed into the pocket of his suit pants. The fingers of his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. “But, Dr. Breitenstein, I don’t understand. I thought we sent our son to one of the top ranked psychiatric hospitals in the country. Why hasn’t he improved?” My father cut his eyes at me, clearly disappointed.

  I ripped away from his judgmental glare and stared at the floor. Four hundred ninety-nine.

  Dr. Breitenstein wasn’t fazed by my father’s money or his intimidation tactics. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hawkley. We’re doing all we can for your son, but a lot of his improvement depends on him. He has to take that first step toward recovery.” I could feel her burning a smile through me, a knowing smile. She was nice enough, but I wasn’t ready to take that step yet, and she knew it. I barely acknowledged her.

  She kept talking, “We’re happy to continue his treatment here.”

  My father stopped dead in his tracks. “That won’t be necessary,” he balked, and then throwing me a sidelong glance, he ordered, “Let’s go, Ryder. I’m taking you home.”

  “But, sir,” Dr. Breitenstein interjected, “he’d be leaving against medical advice.”

  My father glared at her over his black-framed glasses. “Obviously, your services are no longer beneficial. We’ll take his therapy elsewhere.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she apologized, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. “I feel like he was really starting to make a little progress.”

  I glanced away and looked out the window where an airplane cut through the sky, leaving contrails in its path.

  Five hundred thirty-seven.

  MY FATHER SAT in the driver’s seat of the Bentley. “Son,” he reprimanded, “this pity party has to end. I’m taking you home where you belong. This little charade of yours has cost us too much time. Too much time that your mother and I have spent on the road back and forth between the hospital and home. Too much time that I’ve had to take off work. Too much time talking to doctors and nurses, with no results. It’s been months. We have all had to learn how to live without her. It’s not easy, but it’s time to get back to a normal life.”

  A sudden coldness hit me at my core. A normal life? I didn’t even know what the hell that meant anymore. My eighteenth birthday had already come and gone. I’d missed the last couple of months of my senior year. At my mother’s insistence, I was able to get my diploma through a few online courses during my treatment at the hospital. But, normal? That’s something I knew I’d never get back—something I never wanted to get back—not without Chloe.

  My dad continued, “I’ve already pulled some strings at the university, so starting next semester you’ll be joining my alma mater as a full-time student.” He jutted his chin proudly, as if I should be thankful… as if he’d done me some big favor.

  I just sat there, staring out the window. My father’s words tumbled around in my head. He had no clue. No fucking clue. He didn’t know what it felt like to be solely responsible for someone’s life being ripped away too soon. The pain of knowing how hard she must have fought for air, how much she must’ve struggled trying to kick toward the surface, how many times she’d gulped mouthfuls of water while calling for me… I couldn’t bear the thoughts. I would spend the rest of my life with the guilt. I knew that throwing me into ‘real life’ wasn’t going to change anything, but I’d manage.

  And I did.

  One year later…

  I DIDN’T CRY until the taillights of my mom’s new Lexus turned the corner out of sight. We’d just said our last goodbyes after she, my stepdad Chris, and my little sister Zoe, had helped me move into my dorm room. Although I’d never been more ready to start a new life, I couldn’t help but tear up watching Zoe’s big crocodile tears spill from her eyes as she’d sobbed, “I dunna miss you, Sissy.”

  Zoe, my four-year-old sister, had become my little side-kick the last couple of years. She followed me everywhere¸ which could be annoying sometimes, but she was pretty entertaining and super cute. She was born shortly after my mom and Chris had gotten married. I’d settled into my role as a big sister pretty easily, and it was tough to think of leaving Zoe when she was still so young.

  Reaching out, I’d tousled her soft, brown curls. “I’m gonna miss you too, Zoe,” I’d told her then lifted her off the ground and gave her a tight squeeze.

  Mom’s lip had trembled when she’d cautioned, “You be careful. You hear?”

  To call my mother overprotective would’ve been an understatement. She worried herself sick over Zoe and me. I felt certain that she would have preferred to keep us locked in a plastic bubble. I couldn’t really blame her though, having given her quite the scare my freshman year of high school when I’d sneaked off to a party on the wrong side of town. She’d been the ubiquitous shield of protection ever since. So the idea of me leaving for college had been especially difficult for her.

  I’d nodded. “I will, Mom.”

  Even Chris’s eyes looked glassy when he’d insisted, “Call us if you need anything.”

  Chris and I had grown especially close over the past few years. Our connection began over our common love for music. Chris was a talented musician and lead singer of his band, Fifth Wheel. Mom had taken us to see Fifth Wheel in concert, where I’d learned that they’d actually known each other for many years. Little did I know that less than a year later Chris would become my stepfather. And, honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better one.

  A few hugs and a sorrowful goodbye later, my family was on their way back home as I stood alone in the parking lot with tears pooling in my eyes.

  I didn’t understand myself sometimes. One minute I’d be on top of the world about leaving for college because I was looking forward to a new adventure. The next minute I’d be sobbing my eyes out because I knew I’d miss everyone so much. On one hand, I was excited for a taste of independence, free from my mother’s overprotection. On the other hand, I was terrified to be on my own and wanted to cling to her for comfort.

  I don’t know how long I stood there, but it didn’t take long for me to gain my composure. I was at Parkway State University. The only college I’d dreamed about for the past two years. The campus where my dreams for my future would begin.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked to the entrance of my dorm and swiped my new ID card to unlock the door. Swinging it open, I knew this was it—ready or not—a promise of something new.

  MY ROOMMATE WAS sitting on her bed when I walked through the door. She hadn’t been around while my family and I were moving my things into the room, so this was our first time meeting each other.

  The one thing I noticed about her was her bright, cheerful smile. “You must be Alexis,” she said as I made my way into the room.

  Her silky, dark brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun. She wore an oversized T-shirt, with the neck of it cut out so that it hung loosely off one shoulder. Her legs were covered in neon pink and black zebra-striped leggings.

  I grinned at her throwback fashion sense, noticing the pencils she’d used to secure the bun on top of her head. “Yep, and you’re… Georgiana?”

  She shook her head, tossing her tablet to the side and standing up to greet me. “Just Gia. Only my grandmother calls me by my full name.”

  I reached my hand out to shake hers, but she totally bypassed it and went straight for a hug. “I’m so glad to meet my new roomie!” she squealed. “We’re gonna have so much fun!”

  I laughed. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  Gia walked to her side of the room and grabbed a bag off the floor, tossing it onto her bed. She un
zipped it and began taking things out, stuffing them into her drawers without rhyme or reason. “I have a friend who is a year ahead of us. She’s already invited us to go out tonight, so she can show us the ropes. You down?”

  “Sure!” I agreed promptly as I plopped down on my bed. “That sounds fun!”

  But I hadn’t quite forgotten my harrowing experience in Southside a few years ago—wrong party in the wrong neighborhood. If it hadn’t been for my mom and stepdad, I could have ended up in a much worse situation. I beat back my excitement until I had all the details.

  “Wait… who is your friend? And where exactly is this party?” I asked.

  Gia grinned. “Oh, she and I went to high school together, but now she lives in the building next door. Her name is Brynlee. And the party is in the basement of Sigma Upsilon Pi… or as we like to call it, SigUp. You’ll love it! Don’t worry. It will be fun!”

  LATER, WHILE GIA was showering, I called my boyfriend, Ian, to let him know that I was settled in but already missing him.

  “Hey, babe,” he greeted me after the fourth ring.

  His voice brought a smile to my face. We’d decided to keep seeing each other even though it would be a long-distance relationship. While the university was only two hours away from home, it was still too far away for a quick visit. Our final goodbye and my last night at home had been tough. I’d cried even though I knew he would only be a couple of hours away from me. With our busy schedules, we wouldn’t see each other nearly as often as I’d like.

  “Hey,” I sighed, fighting back the tears. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “I’m glad you called. Are you all settled in and getting used to college life?”

  “Yeah, I think so. My roommate is breaking me in right. She’s taking me to a frat party tonight.”

  He chuckled, “Oh, really? Well, don’t be getting too crazy—hey, Brett, play that again. I think we need to play a middle C there instead—sorry, babe,” he apologized, “Brett and I are working on a new song.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, I won’t bother you then. I just wanted to say hi.” I secretly hoped he’d take the phone into another room so we could actually have a conversation.

  “You’re not bothering me—no, Brett, never mind. Probably should go down a key after all.”

  I twisted a strand of hair around my finger and tilted my head toward the ceiling, trying to hold back a sigh. “You’re busy,” I said, stating the obvious. “You can just call me back, if you want.”

  He cleared his throat. “Uh… yeah, okay. I’ll call you later, if that’s alright.”

  I pursed my lips, trying to mask my disappointment. “Sure.”

  “Okay, babe.” He kept his voice light. “Love you. Talk to you later.”

  “Alright,” I told him, glancing at the clock and wondering how late ‘later’ would be. “Love you.”

  I ended the call, feeling deflated. I’d really hoped that time and space wouldn’t change things between Ian and me, but suddenly, I wondered how our long-distance relationship would work if he was already blowing me off.

  I knew I had to rein in my emotions and get in the groove. In just a matter of hours, Gia and I would be heading to our first college party. Just the thought of it was enough to get me out of my funk.

  No one ever told me that leaving for college would be such a roller coaster of emotions. I felt like I had whiplash from all of it.

  GIA AND I spent the better part of the evening trying to decide what to wear. Gia had settled on a black crop top and a cute pair of denim shorts with lace appliques around each hem. I’d decided on a blue sheer top over a spaghetti-strap tank and pair of bright, white shorts.

  After a few finishing touches to our makeup, we were on our way across campus, heading toward SigUp. As we approached the house, Gia linked her arm with mine and asked, “Are you ready for this?” Her dark brown hair hung in loose curls around her face. She’d pinned a single lock of hair back with a bobby pin. Her eyes danced with excitement.

  I took a deep breath. In my chest, I already felt the thump of the music that was coming from the house. “As I’ll ever be,” I claimed, tugging the hem of my shorts to smooth out the wrinkles.

  The house was packed. People were milling around, drinking and talking. I’d never seen so many red plastic cups in one room. Gia and I pushed through the crowd, trying to get to Brynlee. She had texted Gia that she was in the back, hanging out with Lance and Dane, two of the guys from SigUp.

  A girl that I could only assume to be Brynlee hurried over as soon as she saw us. She looked beautiful in her one-shouldered, emerald green swing top and skinny, cropped jeans. Her silky auburn hair hung in a single, loose braid across her bare shoulder. “Hey Gia,” she squealed, giving her a hug. Her hazel eyes shimmered with excitement. Then looking at me, she beamed, “Oh, hi. You must be Alexis. I’m Brynlee.”

  “Hi!” I echoed, reciprocating her excitement. “It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for inviting us tonight.”

  Brynlee smiled, hooking a loose lock of her auburn hair behind her ear. “No problem. Tonight is gonna rock.” She pointed toward the wall. “Grab a chair. The guys are playing some pool. Once the crowd gets hoppin’ we’ll show these boys how to dance.”

  I grabbed the nearest chair and pulled it up next to Gia. “This is going to be so fun,” she whispered, watching the boys chalk up their sticks and stalk around the table, looking for their next shot.

  “Do you know these guys?” I asked, nodding my head in their direction.

  She shook her head. “Kinda. I’ve only met them once before. Yesterday while Brynlee was helping me move in. They’re pretty cool.”

  Brynlee plopped down beside me. “Lance is the hottest guy in SigUp. Trust me. Dane is a close second.” She giggled as she watched the tall blond knock the eight ball right into the side pocket by accident.

  “Damn it!” He smacked the butt of the stick on the floor, knowing he’d just lost the game.

  “Which one is that?” I asked, indicating the one who’d just handed a win over to his friend.

  “The tall blond?” she practically purred. “Oh, that’s Lance.”

  “Best two out of three?” Lance challenged the other guy, who chuckled before taking a sip of his beer.

  I had to hand it to her. He was good looking—long and lean, broad shoulders, sharp jawline, aquamarine eyes. Of course, he doesn’t hold a candle to Ian. I tried to tamp down the sudden feeling of sadness creeping up on me. Lance laughed, breaking me from my thoughts, and started to rack the balls again.

  I glanced at the other guy—dark brown hair, deep set eyes, wide smile. Handsome, but in a completely different way. Dane was a little shorter than Lance, but was ripped like him. He chuckled and chalked up the tip of his stick, “Dude, you’re a glutton for punishment.”

  Gia practically melted beside me. “Dane is hot,” she breathed.

  I chuckled. Gia thought every guy was hot. I’d found that out in the few hours I’d spent with her already. We’d already bonded over our Channing Tatum obsession. Afterwards, she continued to list her latest celebrity crushes… Alex Pettyfer, Zac Efron, Chris Pine…

  Gia was a walking, talking hormone. The good news was that she seemed just shy enough not to act on all of her impulses. Otherwise, I feared she would be bringing a different guy back to our dorm every night. “Yeah, he’s pretty hot,” I murmured, shooting her a sidelong glance, but the only hot guy that I had on my mind at the moment was Ian.

  Before I could turn my attention back to the pool table, I felt the hair on the back of my neck bristle. I turned my head just enough to catch a brooding set of eyes staring at me from two tables away. I settled on them for just a second then ripped myself away, trying to re-focus on the antics of Lance and Dane.

  “Who’s the long lost Fall Out Boy?” I whispered to Brynlee.

  She looked around, confused. “Fall Out Boy?”

  I gave a small nod in his direction. “Three o’clock.”

&nb
sp; She glanced at the guy with the long, choppy hairstyle, strands falling across his face in just a way you could barely see his eyes. He was leaned back in his chair, glaring across the room, lost in thought. In one hand he held a pool stick, the way a king holds a scepter.

  Brynlee snapped to attention. “Oh,” she cautioned, grabbing my elbow and leaning toward me. “That’s Ryder Hawkley. Trust me. You do not want to mess with him.”

  I glanced again at the menacing eyes peeking beneath the jagged, dark locks of hair that reminded me of blades across his face. Quickly looking away before he caught me staring, I asked, “Why not?”

  Brynlee chuckled. “I mean, isn’t it obvious?”

  Gia echoed Brynlee, wide-eyed. “Yeah, he looks dangerous.”

  Leaning toward me like she had some big secret to tell me, Brynlee rasped, “I heard he’s been in and out of a mental hospital.”

  He didn’t really look all that dangerous. Intriguing maybe, but not dangerous. I shrugged. “For what?”

  She seemed baffled by my indifference. “Breakdown, attempted suicide, something like that. I don’t really know. He just doesn’t talk.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Doesn’t talk? Like he’s shy or like he doesn’t speak English?”

  She shook her head, her eyes wide. “No. Like he’s a total weirdo. Took a vow of silence or something crazy like that.”

  I glanced back at him in disbelief. He sat stoic while the world around him seemed lively and boisterous. “Vow of silence? You mean he deliberately doesn’t talk to anyone? Not even professors? How does he pass? How can you go to college and not speak?” I was plagued by this fascinating, yet perplexing tidbit of information.

  Brynlee didn’t hesitate. “Because look at him. He’s bad-ass Ryder Hawkley.”

  I peered at him. He was sitting back in his chair, legs spread wide with his elbows on the armrests. His dark brown hair hung across his face, but I didn’t miss those crystal blue eyes staring across the room from beneath the curtain of bangs. The sharp jawline outlined his face as his eyebrows furrowed in an angry, menacing glare. “Yeah…” I nodded as my voice trailed. Bad-ass is right.