Page 48 of Gabriel
“Cool. Can I tell Gabe you’ll be down in a few? He’s waiting by your car for you, and knowing him, he’s probably pacing, worried I’ll scare you off with stories from his childhood or some shit.”
I snort. “Sure. You can tell him I’ll be right there.”
“Cool. I’ll catch you later.” He jogs down the bleachers with a wave before disappearing around the corner. When he’s gone, I take a deep breath and look down at the wrinkled paper still in my hand.
Julio is right about one thing. Maybe this Allie girl and I do have something in common after all.
CHAPTER 16
CECILIA
The tension is thick, and silence hangs heavy between us. I waited a few minutes after Julio left before grabbing my things and making my way down the bleachers.
Gabriel stood beside my car, keys in hand and a tight expression on his face. Neither of us said a word as we climbed inside, him in the driver’s seat and me in the passenger side.
I could have argued. Told him I was fine to drive. But I’m not fine. And I’m too tired to argue with him for pride’s sake. I’m exhausted and frustrated and humiliated. So, what’s the point? My only priority at the moment is getting home so I can lock myself in my room and hide from the world for a while longer. Then I can go over what the fuck just happened and try to figure out how to make sure it never happens again.
We’ve been driving for ten minutes now and with each passing second, I wait for him to break the silence. For Gabriel to lash out over my behavior. To ask questions I don’t have answers to. Or tell me he never wants to speak to me again.
I completely lost it back there, so that last one is probable. He might not say anything at this very moment. Or even today. He seems like a decent guy. Probably doesn’t want to hurt myfeelings after seeing me fall apart like that. But I can only imagine what’s swirling around in that head of his.
He bit off way more than he could chew here. With any luck, he’ll realize his mistake with this misguided hero complex of his and drop out of my classes and go about his life like I don’t exist. That would be the right move. The smart move on his part.
My chest squeezes at the thought. I ignore it. I barely know him. There’s zero reason for me to get attached. My head is just a mess. My emotions frazzled. He kissed me, and was kind to me, and it’s just screwing with my head.
I do not care if Gabriel drops me like a hot sack of potatoes. Not one bit.
We’re less than five minutes away from my parents’ when Gabriel breaks his silence.
“Can we talk about what happened back there?” He keeps his eyes on the road, hands clenched around the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip.
I suck in a shaky breath and chew on my lower lip. I’m not surprised by the question. I expected it. He deserves some sort of explanation. I know he does. If our roles were reversed, I’d want answers too. But… I don’t want to answer his question. Or any others he might have. I want to pretend today never happened. That the past year of my life never happened. I just want to move on.
Maybe if I just ignore him, he’ll get the hint and drop it.
“Cece?”
I bristle. “Don’t call me that.” My voice is brittle, and a rush of irrational tears stings the backs of my eyes. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath and press the backs of my hands to my eyes.
I hate that nickname. Hate it so much that I want to hurl myself into oncoming traffic anytime I hear it. Only Austin ever calls me that. It’s not sweet or cute. It’s a tool. A name he throws at me to remind me who’s in control. I can’t make him stop usingit. I can’t make Austin stop anything. And that’s exactly why he does it. He revels in my discomfort. It makes me feel helpless.
I shiver and tuck my hands under my thighs.
“Yeah. Okay. My bad.” Gabriel shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He reaches out across the center console and I recoil.
“Shit.” He sighs. “I’m really fucking this up here.”
I don’t say anything. We’re almost to my street. Just a little further.
“I think we should talk about it.” He tries again. “Cecilia?”
“I don’t want to.” My voice is a raw whisper.
His honey-brown eyes flick toward me before returning to the road. He navigates the car over, parking on a side street less than a block from my house. I eye the keys, still in the ignition. I don’t want to fight with him. I just want to go home. But if I ask for my keys, I know he won’t give them to me.
Screw it. I’ll figure out how to get them tomorrow.
