“You coming, teach?” Gabe taunted, his eyes challenging. He turned around and said over his shoulder, a little quieter. “Or do we have to teach ourselves?”
“Right.” I stumbled after them, losing a bit of confidence as I realized that if anyone should be teaching, it should be Gabe, not me.
Each group was already playing with their instruments. Thumping mixed with a few people blowing into their recorders like they were going to war would give a normal person a headache. But it was music to my ears, even the misplaced cow bells. Because every single person was smiling.
Even Gabe.
Curse him for having such a captivating smile.
I hated that I was jealous. Because I had absolutely no right to be! I didn’t even like him, but still… I wondered what it would be like to be that girl. The one who had held his smiles. Who deserved them.
Because he wasn’t smiling at me — he was smiling at her. As if she was the only girl in the world.
Chapter Sixteen
I didn’t know how much more my heart could take…each time she smiled, I lost a bit of myself because her smile wasn’t the same, her eyes were lost to me, but I’d made a promise. I was stuck in purgatory…and anything looked good from where I was standing. Even Hell. —Gabe H.
Gabe
Saylor looked nervous as hell. She clapped her hands twice. Those who could do so followed her rhythm. Others, those who were paralyzed like Princess, were told to shout with the claps.
Pretty brilliant, because that way they didn’t feel left out. And Princess had some pipes on her. I was probably going to be deaf by the time class ended.
Ten minutes.
Ten more minutes, then I’d take Princess on our Friday afternoon walk, read her a story, and kiss her forehead.
I’d say goodbye like I always did.
She’d make me promise to come back like she always did.
And I’d puke in the bathroom before I left… like I always did.
“So that’s it for today! Good job everyone!” Saylor clapped as everyone cheered and started handing their instruments in.
“Gabe.” Martha tapped him on the shoulder. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” I looked at Princess. “Be right back. Be good, okay? No more stealing or talking to pirates.” I sent a smirk in Saylor’s direction. “Or sailors.”
“Ahoy Matey.”
Yeah, that was probably going to be her new favorite phrase for the next month. Thanks for that, Saylor.
I followed Martha to her office.
I knew the news was bad when she refused to make eye contact.
“What is it this time?”
Martha opened up her folder. “The good news is, we caught the lung infection in time, but she’ll most likely need to go on oxygen.”
“Shit.” I hung my head in my hands. “She’s too frail. Her body can’t handle infection after infection.” Pneumonia meant that whatever was caught in her lungs wouldn’t be able to get out. Normal people hacked until the crap left their bodies. Princess would just choke on it until it killed her. Paralysis made pneumonia even more deadly than it already was.
“Gabe…” Martha licked her lips and leaned forward. “You’re the only family that cares, really the only family she has. Maybe if you talk to her, she’ll take the oxygen without us having to sedate her.”
“Sedating her could kill her.”
“Not if she’s on oxygen.”
The only sound I could hear was the clock on the wall ticking. Seconds went by, minutes.
I hated time. I hated that I was responsible for her and that I never felt like I knew what I was doing.
“Pneumonia is treatable, Gabe. She’ll be fine.” Martha closed the folder.
“Can I have a minute?”
“Sure.” She scooted her chair away from the desk and left the office, the door clicking closed behind her.
Just me and the clock.
And more decisions.
Decisions I wasn’t in the right mind to make.
“Don’t!” Mrs. Unifelt screamed. “Don’t let her die!”
I grabbed her arms and tried to pull her away from the hospital bed as the doctor rushed to Kimmy’s side.
“Get her out of here!” He pointed at me. Mrs. Unifelt was strong, and at eighteen I still hadn’t packed on enough muscle to pry her body away from her daughter. She was fierce that way, like a mother cub protecting her young.
“You have to do what you can!” Mrs. Unifelt yelled again. “Please!” Tears streamed down her face and landed on my arms. Her tears were warm as they slid down my skin, but I was cold, shivering, dying right along with Kimmy.
I knew it was for the best. Kimmy wouldn’t want to live that way, trapped inside her own body, a vegetable. We’d never talked about it, but I couldn’t imagine her wanting to live, yet never actually being free. To never run again, never have kids, never be normal again.
“We’ll try,” the doctor finally said. “But you have to leave.”
Hours later, they let us see her.
I wasn’t prepared for her to look so normal.
She looked like my Kimmy, though her face was still bruised, her jaw locked shut.
“Talk to her,” the nurse said. “She can hear your voice.”
“Kimmy?” I whispered. “It’s Parker… I love you, Kimmy.”
Her eyelids moved and then flickered open. She looked horror-stricken, like she’d been to hell and back.
Her blood pressure skyrocketed as the heart monitor beeped.
“No.” she mouthed. “No, no!” Her head moved back and forth.
And then the seizure hit.
The next time she opened her eyes, they were empty.
The girl I loved was gone.
I slowly made my way back into the rec room. Most of the patients were watching a movie.
Not Princess.
She was positioned right next to the window, and it was open.
“Shit!” I ran across the room and pulled the window closed. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Saylor blinked innocently. “She said she missed the outside.”
“Are you stupid?” I roared. “She can’t go outside! If she goes outside she could die!”
“But—”
“Just go away. You’ve done enough.”
“Gabe, I—”
“Go!” I yelled so loud my throat hurt.
Saylor took a step back, then two, then turned for the door and ran.
“You shouldn’t yell, Parker,” Princess said in a quiet voice.
“Yeah, well… she shouldn’t make me yell.”
Princess’s face lit up. “The air feels nice.”
“About that…” Here went nothing. “They’re going to have to put some air inside you. You’d like that, right? Since you miss outside so much?”
Her face pinched. “Will it hurt?”
“Nah, it will feel like a kiss.”
“I miss your kiss.” Her voice sounded almost normal, like if I closed my eyes it would all be some crazy nightmare and she’d be whole again. In my arms, I’d kiss her lips, I’d tell her I loved her, we’d laugh, make love, and everything would be fine.
“Parker.” The high pitched voice was back. “Open your eyes, silly. No sleeping.”
“Right.” My voice wavered. “No sleeping.”
Truth? It had been four years since I’d slept peacefully. Four years since I could look at myself in the mirror and not feel hate.
Now? I didn’t even bother looking. Not unless I had to. I knew what my reflection looked like. Pain. Sorrow. Guilt. But worst of all? Fake. My reflection was fake.
I wheeled Princess back to her room and dialed Wes’s number.
“Yeah?”
“I’m ready.”
“For?”
“The talk.”
“Ah, man, can’t someone else explain how babies are made?”
“Cute.”
“You’re smiling.”
“Shut up.”
He sighed. “So talk.”
“Meet me at the campus Starbucks.”
“Alone or with Kiersten?”
“Better bring her. I’m going to need both of you if I have any hope of staying alive… Kiersten would kill me, we both know this.”
“See you in ten.”
Chapter Seventeen
Everyone wears masks. They come in all different shapes and sizes. The only problem with trying one on — is that it fits. How easily we fall into the trap that we don’t have to be who we really are. How easily we convince ourselves that we need to cover up what we were born to be. It’s a tragedy — that fear keeps us from our destiny. It’s hell — when the person you were created to be — is covered up by some cheap imposter —Wes M.
Gabe
I walked into the coffee shop like I was marching to my death. I knew Wes knew. I wondered what was worse. Him knowing and me not telling? Or me actually telling him the entire truth and having him look at me with that look. Epic disappointment in my character.
I hated that damn look. It’s the same look her mom gave me that day in the hospital. The same look my dad gave me when I gave up my shit career and moved to Seattle.
Pity? I hated it. But someone judging my character? Someone finally discovering I wasn’t even close to who I said I was. Well, hell. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that convo with Wes. He was the closest thing to family I had and now I was throwing a giant-assed wrench in our friendship.
The bell to the door gave a little jingle as I opened it and stepped in. Wes was in the corner. Kiersten was sitting right next to him, snuggled to his side. They didn’t see me, and maybe it was better that way.
It would have been nice.
To have a girlfriend. A normal life. To go to a coffee shop and wrap my arm around her shoulders when she got cold, to pull that scarf snug around her neck and kiss her cheek.
Kimmy had loved Seattle — was obsessed with it actually. She’d always had this weird fascination with rain. Swear, I kissed her in the rain so many times, I even started to like it. That’s what movies to do chicks. They make them bat shit crazy, but I didn’t care, because it was her. And I would do anything — anything for her.
I clenched my fist at my side and took a few shaky steps toward the corner table. Shit, I was borderline hyperventilating by the time I made it to my chair.
Tired. I was so damn tired of it all.
“Hey.” Wes’s voice was gentle, caring, understanding. Holy shit, I wanted to punch his perfect face. “Um, Kiersten, why don’t you grab Gabe some coffee. I think he needs it.”
“Sure.” She gave me a sympathetic look then left.
“Don’t tell Kiersten,” Wes blurted, surprising the hell out of, well, probably both of us if the look of shock on his face was any indication.
“What?”
“Don’t tell her.” Wes leaned forward. “She was with me, otherwise, I wouldn’t have had her come.”
“But—” My mind was reeling. “She’s your fiancée. You guys tell each other everything. It’s fine, I need to get this out, it’s—”
“—it’s not about her knowing,” Wes interrupted and pulled his phone out. “It’s about it affecting her safety. She’s already bombarded with reporters and fans thirty times a day because of me. What do you think’s going to happen when she knows about this? She’s going to want to be there for you, by your side, I’ll have to freaking pry her from your clutches — and your father…” Wes sighed, “Man, there are things you should know.”
“Wait.” I snorted without humor, hating that he knew more than I thought he did “Wasn’t this my time to blurt my feelings and seek your wisdom?”
“Too late.” His eyes darted away from the table then closed. “Look, I know you’re pissed…”
“Pissed?” I laughed. “Try betrayed, but hey, it’s cool as long as Kiersten’s safe, right?”
“Gabe—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Would you rather I call you Parker?” He glared. “Or how about Ashton? Is that what you want? Everyone to know? If Kimmy—”
“Don’t you dare…” I lunged for his neck and grabbed his shirt, pulling him to his feet. “…utter her name!”
Wes’s eyes narrowed. “Let me go.”
“We’re done.”
“No,” he said, too calm for my liking. “We’re not. We’re a team. I’m going to help you through this. We’ll figure it out. All I’m asking is that you leave the girl we both love out of it.”
Hands shaking, I released his shirt and plopped down into my seat, rubbing my face with my hands, my tattooed, poser hands.
“Whoa, you sure Gabe needs more coffee?” Kiersten joked setting a cup of black liquid in front of me. “Maybe you do need sex.”
I groaned into my hands.
“Gabe.” A warm hand touched mine. I peeked through my fingers to see Kiersten’s warm smile. “Is everything okay? You know you can talk to me, right? Is that why you wanted to meet?”
Damn it, Wes. Lies. More lies. How many more before my soul was black as hell? “Yeah,” I croaked. “I um, wanted to talk to you guys about Lisa’s birthday. It’s coming up and I thought we could do something fun.”
“Oh yay! I totally forgot!” Kiersten clapped her hands together and began talking wildly about surprise party ideas while Wes met my gaze next to her, and mouthed, Thank you.
I nodded.
An hour later, Kiersten finally left for class. I’d consumed at least three cups of coffee and was exhausted. On a good note, the Home hadn’t called, so that meant Princess was alright — for now.
Wes leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Let’s walk.”
“I’d rather punch you in the face,” I sang. “But sure, walking’s a good alternative.”
Wes smirked. “You’re kind of an ass, you know that?”
“Part of my charm.”
“Maybe that’s it.” He snorted. “Haven’t been using much of that charm lately, hmm?”
“Shut it.”
We walked out of the coffee shop and slowly made our way back toward the dorms.
“So, Saylor’s cute.”
If this was his idea of small talk he had another thing coming.
“So are cats. Doesn’t mean I want to buy ten then die alone with my hand down my pants.”
“Dude.” Wes shook his head. “Worse visual ever.”
“What?” I kicked a pinecone and shoved my hands in my pockets. “Besides, she’s annoying as hell, and she’s not even cute.” Oh look, more lies. I should make a career out of it. Cool, so my future was that of a con artist, not a far mark from reality.
Wes dropped it, not saying anything while we made the trek all the way back to the girls’ dorms. Then finally said, “Are you sure you don’t think she’s cute?”
Irritated, I raised my voice. “Wes, Saylor is the most annoying, irritating, undesirable girl I’ve come across in the past four years since being here at school — and that’s saying a lot. Drop it, man. Besides, I thought we were going to talk.”
Someone gasped next to me.
I turned and came face to face with Saylor. Her eyes blurred with a mixture of tears and hostility as she pushed between us toward the door to the lobby.
The door slammed behind her
Wes winced. “Think she heard?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I wanted to hit him, to hit something.
His eyes flashed. “Can I be honest?”
“I’d rather you just not talk for a while, but sure,” I grumbled, fingers itching to rearrange his smug face.
He shrugged. “If you can’t even be honest about who you’re attracted to — with your best friend, then we have no business talking about your past. You’re not ready. You want to tell me out of guilt. I want you to tell me because you want to. Because you want help — because you need it — not because it’s time you told me. Hell, I know most of it anyway.”
> I scowled. “You’re not making any sense.”
“Tell me your story,” Wes said smoothly. “Not when it’s your last option — but when it’s your first. Don’t come to me when you’ve finally used up every ounce of strength you have to push me away and lie. Come to me when I’m your first choice. Because right now, you’re not ready and I’m about five seconds away from knocking you on your sorry ass.”
My breath came out in a gust as if he’d just punched me in the stomach. Where the hell did he come off saying those things to me? I wanted to yell, to scream, but when I opened my mouth only a croak escaped.
Wes slapped me on the shoulder and walked toward the door. With his hand hovering over the handle, he turned and said, “By the way, your dad’s been looking for you.”
“How—”
“I took care of it. I was at admin when he stopped by and made sure he was satisfied with the lie. But Gabe… your time’s up. You need to start thinking about how you’re going to handle this — if at all. Running isn’t the answer, but neither is exposing that poor girl to that life again. Just… make a decision and know that when you do. I’ll be ready to listen.” With that, he walked off, making me feel like even more of an ass than when we started.
Shit.
I hated that he was right almost as much as I hated that I was wrong. Damn it! I kicked the brick wall with the toe of my boot over and over again until I thought my toe might have broken.
“Easy, killer,” Lisa said, coming up behind me. “Walls don’t fight back.”
“Go away.” My voice shook.
“Wes texted.”
I groaned, what? It took him two seconds to text Lisa and tattle? Awesome.
“Wes needs to stay the hell out of my life.”
“Ash—”
“Don’t.” I shook my head. “Just don’t, Lisa. I can’t. Not right now.”
“We’re family.”
I laughed out loud at that and looked at her straight in the eyes when I said, “Funny… the first lie we told.”
Chapter Eighteen
What had I ever done to him? Besides listened to him beat the crap out of a piano and open a stupid window? Nothing. Gabe was bad news — bad, bad, news. He was a thunderstorm and he’d caught me without an umbrella. —Saylor