The Boy Who Didn't Love

17 - favorite sound

  She never expected that she would one day watch a movie about a psychopath with a sociopath sitting beside her.

  Ali glanced over at him as she munched on some popcorn. He was sitting rigidly against the leather seat, with his eyes glued to the large screen across from them. Although he said he didn't enjoy movies much, he seemed to be able to pay attention, but she had a suspicion that it was merely for analytical purposes rather than entertainment.

  She also noticed he hadn't eaten any of the popcorn in between them, which they were supposed to share. She narrowed her eyes at him, curious, before returning her attention to the screen.

  Once the movie was over, they walked back outside and found themselves at the same pier in which they had first gone out together. The air was chillier than last time, but it didn't bother either of them.

"Did you like the movie?" she asked him as they strolled across the wooden boards that smelled of fish.

"No," he answered honestly, which didn't surprise her at all. "But I thought it was interesting."

"Good enough."

"Did you like it?"

Ali scrunched her nose in thought. "Well, it was definitely realistic. It even got me thinking of what it would be like if I knew a psychopath. They're more likely to kill people in extreme cases, while the worst someone like you could do is lie to me. I don't know about you, but I'd rather have you metaphorically stab my back than actually do it."

She paused, registering what she just said, and quickly apologized. "Not that you would! I didn't mean to compare you to a serial killer. I promise you're nothing like him, except maybe the way you're both incredibly talented at lying—and you're both attractive—but nothing else!"

They stopped in the middle of the boardwalk as she slowly, once again, registered her own words. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she looked down at the bag of popcorn in her hands.

With her heart pounding, she kept her eyes on the ground and nervously handed him the bag. Her voice was quiet and feeble as she asked: "Popcorn?"

For a moment, he didn't react, and a million different obscenities were shooting through her brain, aimed solely at herself. Then, all of a sudden, an unfamiliar sound—which would soon become her favorite sound—echoed into the sea air and silenced her entire brain for the first time in her life.

He was laughing.

Sawyer was laughing.

Ali blinked, watching him with utter awe, as her mind struggled to form any thoughts whatsoever. When he was finished, she swallowed roughly and furrowed her eyebrows at him. "Did you—were you laughing at me just now?"

"Yeah," Sawyer replied nonchalantly, a shadow of a smile still cast over his face.

"You, um..." Ali cleared her throat, feeling a smile take over her own face. "I've never heard you laugh before."

He shrugged. "I haven't laughed in a while."

"I wish you would laugh more."

"Why?"

"Because I like it," she said softly, and he briefly looked over at her.

He didn't respond to that. Instead, his eyes dropped down to the popcorn bag and gently took it from her hands. She watched as he threw a few up into the air and into his mouth, never missing.

"It really doesn't faze you that I'm a sociopath, does it?" Sawyer asked as they began walking again, and she turned to him, taken aback by his question.

  "Yeah, it doesn't."

  He handed her back the bag as he spoke. "You seem to avoid saying it though. Like it's some sort of bad word."

  "Oh," Ali murmured, slightly embarrassed that he had noticed. "I don't mean to. I'm just not too sure if you find it offensive or not."

  He looked over at the glistening sea and shrugged. "It's not offensive. It's the truth. I was officially diagnosed with high-functioning, nonviolent antisocial personality disorder when I was 15, but I've been called a sociopath for longer. It's always been my identity."

  "There's more to you than that, though," she said firmly, not a single doubt in her tone, and he nodded in silent appreciation.

  "Thank you for defending me the other day with Trinity," Sawyer mentioned as he continued to gaze out at the waves. "We went to high school together. She's always said stuff to me like that."

  "Well, she won't be saying it anymore. Not while I'm around," Ali assured him. He caught a glimpse of her smile, the one he always looked forward to seeing, then turned back to the blue waters.

  "I know," he whispered.