Breaking Rules (17 page)

“Oh, geesh,” he said, pulling away. He shook his head and half-laughed
, bringing his hands up to cover his supposedly wounded chest. “Break a man’s heart, why don’t you?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gabe,” I said, shaking my head as he turned away. He walked back to his car, only turning back once to steal a look at me. I shrugged and waved, and then I just kept
watching him until he was back in his car and pulling out on the highway.

I
’d teased him, and maybe even flirted with him, I don’t know, but Gabe could never know how right he truly was. It had been
really
hard for me to break a rule for him, and that rule had
nothing
to do with skipping school, and
everything
to do with letting him in, allowing him to get a little bit closer than arm’s length.

In that moment, I was certain, based on all the things I felt in the last few hours, today had even gotten me one step closer to breaking the biggest rule of all.

Because of Gabe,
my world was imploding all over again, and for the first time in forever, that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Thirteen

Bailey and I had barely moved a muscle since we’d gotten home from school. She asked me for all the juicy details of the day, and while I didn’t have anything ‘juicy’ to share, I still told her everything. It’d been the first time in years that we had a conversation that lasted so long without exploding into an argument of some kind. I noticed how smoothly things were going after about ten minutes, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to jinx it.

So we sat
there on my bed talking, laughing, and musing about life. Bailey spent a while painting a vivid picture of what her life would’ve been like had we never left LA, and I (silently and every bit to myself) painted a lovely picture of what life could be like if we never had to leave Sugar Creek. I wouldn’t have to quit my job, change schools before graduation, or say goodbye to Gabe. I could go to DU, and I could live out my dream. But most importantly, I wouldn’t have to face Mom again.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” Dad said, poking his head into my room that evening.

“What do you want?” Bailey asked, turning to look at him. Needless to say, she’d been just as eager to spend time with our father lately as I’d been.

“I think it goes
without saying that we need to have ourselves a conversation,” he said, stopping at the door. It must’ve been his fear of being yelled out or ganged up on that caused him to hesitate, because he didn’t take another step closer. “Do you have a minute?”

“It depends what that minute entails,” Bailey spat back.

Dad finally mustered the nerve to come in. After a few hesitant steps, he made his way to the bed and sat down on the mattress next to my sister. I pulled my legs up close to my chest, careful not to let him touch me. I barely wanted him speaking to me, so physical contact was completely out of the question.

“We need to talk about California.”

“I told you I’m not going,” Bailey said, but she didn’t waste a moment to tack the word ‘
yet’
to the end of her sentence. “It’s not fair for you to ask us to leave at the beginning of our senior year, Dad. We still have homecoming, prom, graduation, and Mandy has the RI program. You can’t rip us away from all of that just to take a job.”

“
And what about Jones?
” I added, eliciting a stare from both Dad and Bailey.

“What about him?” they both asked at the same time, and I sat a little straighter.

“It’s not fair for you to ask Bailey to end her relationship just for a stupid TV role,” I said, and that only made them stare harder. “She really likes Jones, and he really, really, really likes her. No, they haven’t been together long, but what if this relationship is just at the beginning of something that has potential to go long-term? What if you’re just asking too much of her? What if he’s the one she’s supposed to marry? He could be her soul mate, and do you really want to be the one responsible for tearing her away from her soul mate?”

“Since when do you believe in soul mates?” Bailey muttered under her breath, and then her eyes widened as I looked down at my folded hands.
“Oh…”

“I just don’t think it’s fair for you to rip us away from all of the things we have going on right now,” I
mumbled.

“And that’s what I came in here to talk to you girls about,”
Dad said, perking up. “I know you guys can’t see it now, and all you’re seeing is the negative side to moving again, but there’s so much silver-lining to this move, I swear.”

“Other than the fact that you’ll be back on TV,” I said, finally looking at him
, “Give me one reason to believe there’s
anything
positive that could come from this move.”

Dad remained quiet for a few long seconds.

“You know being back in LA will put us right back where we swore we’d never be again,” I said. “You’re being selfish to ask us to go back there.”

“And you’re being selfish by asking me to stay here,” he retorted. “What am I supposed to do? Give up everything I’ve ever worked for? I’d never expect you to give up something you loved.
Never.”

“
You’re doing that now!” I yelled, and Bailey’s hand landed gently on my wrist. I looked down at her fingers as they squeezed my arm, and a warm sensation tingled on my skin. She was holding me, protecting me, doing everything she could to silently assure me that she wasn’t going to let anything bad happen. I couldn’t remember the last time Bailey had done something that promising, but for a faint minute it felt as though my sister had become my friend again.

“Dad,” Bailey said, looking to him
, “have you taken the job?”

“Nothing’s official,” he said. “I told them I needed time to talk to you girls.”

“Perfect. Then let’s be realistic here, okay?” Bailey injected about as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could, but it wasn’t much. “Nothing is set in stone. Dad and I both want to go to California, but I’m not ready yet, and neither is Mandy,” she said, looking up at our father. “So why can’t we just do the simple thing and wait?”

“Meaning?”

“If the guys in LA want you now, they’ll still want you in the long run. That gives us some time to wrap things up here,” Bailey said. “Let’s start in small increments. Six weeks. That’s plenty of time to think, to plan, and to get our thoughts in order. While we’re here, we’ll get to go to homecoming, prepare ourselves for what’s ahead, and really have some time to think this over. Mandy can wrap up her stint with RI and win that scholarship, and then we’ll reconvene and talk about how to move forward from there. Maybe with that amount of time, we’ll all have a clearer idea of what we all want.”

“I’m not going to change my mind,” Dad and I said at precisely the same
time, and we watched each other for a long minute, neither of us eager to be the first to break eye contact.

“
Six weeks, guys,” Bailey said. “Can we at least agree on that for now?”

Dad
’s eyes flittered to the side as he looked out the window, avoiding both of our stares. He didn’t want to wait; he wanted to jump the gun, throwing caution to the wind, regardless of whatever his daughters wanted. But Dad wasn’t heartless, and despite his recent behavior, he wasn’t completely void of emotion. If it meant keeping both of his children from hating him, he’d do it. He just wouldn’t be happy about it, and I knew we’d pay for it in the long run. Dad was bitter, and he held grudges. That’s why we’d ended up in Sugar Creek in the first place.

“
Six weeks,” he said. “End of story.”

Bailey and I looked at one another, knowing that a postponement of his plans was the closest thi
ng to a compromise that we’d ever get from him. And that was okay with me. It gave me plenty of time to put a different plan in order, because I wasn’t getting back on a plane to California.

Earlier, sitting on campus with Gabe, I was too quick to give up, to let Dad have his way and accept that things weren’t going to change for the better. But Gabe was right. I had to keep fighting for what I wanted. So it was time to stand up. I’d fight, because
I was staying right where I belonged, whether either of them chose to stay or not. I didn’t know how I’d do it, or where I’d even begin to find the resources to make it on my own if I had to, but I’d do it.

There were just some rules that I knew I could never, ever, ever break. Not for anyone. Not even Gabe, and especially not for my Dad.
Rule #7: Always look out for number one.

Fourteen

Thursday evening rolled around, and it was finally time to head to the church for a few hours of volunteering at our soup kitchen. I managed to get through most of the day without thinking of California, my burgeoning hatred for my father, or the constant flutter in my heart sparked by the sheer thought of Gabriel Raddick.

“What are you doing all dressed up?” I asked, eyeing my sister as I walked through the kitchen on my way to the front door.

Bailey was
up on the counter, gnawing on the top of a granola bar. Out of her school clothes and dressed in a pink flowered sundress and heels, she looked as though she was ready for an evening on the town. Her hair was styled into a smooth ponytail and bouncing off the top of her head, and her make-up was seriously overdone.

“You know I’m taking the car tonight, right?” I asked, trying to fathom where in the world my sister planned to go looking like that. “Do you need me to drop you off somewhere?”

She shook her head, swallowed the bite of granola, and then hopped down from her spot.

“Nope, I was just waiting on you.”

“Waiting on me for…?”

“A ride.”

“To?

“The soup kitchen,” she said, cl
apping her hands once to knock the crumbs off her fingers.

“What’s at the soup kitchen
?”

“The Raddick Initiative,” she said, holding a finger up before I could interrupt h
er. “And don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m only going with you because Jones had to bail to cover
your
shift, and none of the girls were free at the last minute.”

“Okay?”

“So I’m going to spend the evening helping,” she said, shrugging. She studied my suspicious stare.

What was she up to?

“I’m not up to anything,” she said as if she’d read my mind. “I mean, come on, Mandy. Weren’t
you
the one who gave me that whole load of crap about doing something positive and making an impact for the greater good?”

“Yes, but
—”

“But what?” she asked. “Don’t stand there staring at me like I’m naked. It’s not a miracle that I’ve changed my mind.”

“It kinda
is
.”

“Do you want me to go or not?” she asked. “Because I can turn around right now and
find something to do on my own. It won’t faze me for a second.”

True, she
could
, but I had trouble believing that she
would
. I loved my sister, but unlike me, she didn’t know how to be alone. If Jones, Dad, and all of her friends were going to be busy, Bailey would rather spend a few hours volunteering than spend a few hours alone with her own thoughts. And that was saying something, considering that only one week earlier Bailey would’ve rather gouged out her eyes than to help anyone in need.

Though I was still uncertain of her motives and
her decision to leave the house with me, I snatched my keys and purse from the coat rack near the door and left with my sister in tow.

I pulled the car into a corner spot just outside the church a few minutes before five, and neither Bailey nor I had time to make it through the back door before Lashell waddled out with her hands held high in the air.

“Nope, turn around, back in the car,” she said, waving at us.

We exchanged looks with one another, and then
we turned back to the graying woman. Neither of us knew what to say, but we stood plastered in our spots, silenced nonetheless.

“What do you mean
back in the car
?” I asked, finally finding my voice. “We agreed on Thursday evening. The kitchen opens tonight. Carla’s put up hundreds of fliers.”

“Change of plans. You’re not working here today,” she said, coming down the few steps. “Carla’s got her whole family to pitch in here, and Fletcher just showed up with half the drama club. We’re packed behind the line.” She extended her arm and passed me a piece of paper with a small
, hand-drawn map and barely legible scribbles scrawled across the bottom. “You’re on the street team today.”

“The street team?”
Bailey asked.

“It’s the roadside clean-up,” I said under my breath. “It’s not even part of the school program. It’s one of the permanent RI groups. They collect the litter
—”

“Like trash pick-up?” she asked, widening her stare.
She looked down at her dress and heels. “No way, José! I did
not
sign up for that.”

“You didn’t sign up for anything if my memory serves me well,” Lashell chimed in. “Bailey, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, standing tall. “Bailey Parker.”

“Well, Miss Bailey Parker,” Lashell said, nodding up at the building. “We can try to squeeze you in somewhere inside if you’re too dainty to get your hands dirty, but I won’t make any promises.”

Relief swept across Bailey’s soft face. She looked to me as if to ask if it was okay for her to stay, and I simply shrugged. What else could I do? If I said I wanted her to come with me, she’d no doubt follow me straight to the street clean-up, but she wouldn’t let a second go by that she wouldn’t remind me how much she hated me for making her pick up trash along the highway.

Letting her stay at the soup kitchen was about the only way to ensure that she wouldn
’t be ready to murder me by the end of the day.

We said our goodbyes, and Lashell added a few
, simple instructions before I turned to leave: follow the map if I couldn’t read the directions at the bottom, meet the RI street team at the white van, and log my hours this evening on the highway. I didn’t have a moment to ask her why
I’d
been the one transferred before she turned away, and she and Bailey both disappeared through the back door of the church.

I let my gaze fall on the scribbled words at the bottom of the page. I got back into my car and followed each turn just as it
’d been given on the paper. Within fifteen minutes, I was halfway to Desden on Highway 6.

There was an empty parking lot off the side of the road, so I pulled in and parked the car. The lot was empty with the exception of the street team van, but the team didn
’t seem to be anywhere in sight. I got out of the car and stood just a foot or so away from my open door. I turned in a full circle, looking for any sign of the other volunteers, but there didn’t seem to be another sign of life anywhere.

“Good, you made it
.”

Gabe rounded
the back corner of the van, dressed in his dirty and dingy work clothes, and then he looked down at my freshly laundered, RI shirt.

“
Oh, boy. That’s never going to stay clean out here,” he said, opening the back door of the van. He reached inside, dug around for a second, and then he extended his arm to hand me a folded trash bag and a long, litter stick. “The rest of the team is going north today. We’re going down the south stretch. I went ahead and sent them out while I hung back and waited for you.”

I looked down the road
, back to him, and then I pulled my head upward and watched him from the corner of my eye. Even in those first, few moments, I already sensed that there was something strangely different about him.

“What exactly am I doing here?”

“The Raddick Initiative sponsors a four-mile stretch of clean-up between Sugar Creek and Desden,” he said, and his words were very formal, almost as if he’d rehearsed them.

“That’s great,” I said, clearing my throat. “But I meant why
am
I
here? Lashell stopped me on my way in and told me to follow the map.”

“Right,” he said, closing the van doors.

Clutching a litter stick and trash bag of his own, he started toward the highway, so I followed. With a few brisk steps, I caught up to his pace and threw him a questionable glance.

“Gabe?”

“You’re here because I asked Lashell to send you.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Why not?”

“
Because of the competition,” I said, just in case he’d forgotten. “I want to win, Gabe. I
need
to win, you know that. Besides, I’ve made a commitment to my group, and we all knew what we were responsible for. We had a plan, and my absence kind of messes with the whole dynamic of our team.”

“Don’t worry about the team,” he said, ignoring my mention of the competition altogether.
His tone remained very formal, and I couldn’t’ help but wonder what had suddenly sparked this all-business side of him. “Lashell will find someone to step in if she needs the extra help.”

“She already did,” I said. “Bailey’s taking my spot.”

“Bailey?” he asked, stopping in his tracks. He turned to me, and his expression finally changed to something softer. “Your sister? She’s volunteering today?”

“Yeah,” I said. “She said she wanted to tag along and work with me, but then Lashell split us up
. I thought that maybe I’d done something wrong.”

“Oh, Mandy,” he said
, closing his eyes as he forced a breath through his lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, shrugging.

Sure, it had been the one chance, and probably the only foreseeable opportunity that I’d get to spend time with her, and it hadn’t panned out the way I hoped. By now I could only imagine that she’d dread the whole evening, making it the worst possible experience of her life, and then she’d somehow find a reason to blame me for abandoning her (although it was her idea to stay, and leaving wasn’t necessarily within my control).

“You can go back to the church if you want to, Mandy,” Gabe said, reading into my expression.
He started walking again, so I kept up with his pace. “You don’t have to stay here. I can handle this stretch.”

“And leave you all alone?” I asked, shaking my head.
“No way. Not with the way you’ve been dragging that leg lately. It’s not that big of a deal, anyway. If Bailey gets mad, she’ll get over it.”

“But the whole reason you decided to do the program was so that you could spend time with your sister,” he said. “And now that she’s on board, I don’t want to be the reason you’re not doing that.”

“And you won’t be,” I said. “I’ll tell her I was with you. Believe me, she’ll understand. I mean, it’s
you
.”

Gabe stopped walking
again, and he arched his back, almost as if my words had surged through him, and not in a good way. He turned back and looked down, narrowing his gaze and studying my blank expression. He finally nodded a few times, and then he turned and started walking again.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked
after five minutes into trash pick-up. When he didn’t said anything for a while, I began to worry that maybe I’d said something wrong. He’d been acting strange ever since I’d pulled up, and I couldn’t figure out what in the world had happened. “Gabe?”

“Hmm?”

“Why am I here today?”

“I thought we covered that already.”

“But we really didn’t,” I said. “You were vague. You were avoiding the question. You asked Lashell to send me here, but why?”

He paused, and his breath
became shallower by the second. He poked a piece of Styrofoam along the roadside and dropped it into the large trash bag clutched in his hand.

“I asked Lashell to send you here this evening because I wanted to spend some time alone with you,” he admitted, dropping his head a bit further.
Still, he didn’t look at me, but focused his attention on the trash alongside the road. “I knew that I wouldn’t get the chance to do that again anytime soon. I just… I wanted to see you while I could.”

Before I had the time to respond or even register what he meant by that
, the wind picked up, and a chilly autumn breeze swept between us. I shivered and lifted my shoulders, but the cool air didn’t seemed to bother him. Gabe closed his eyes for a minute and let the wind sweep around us, and when he opened his eyes again, his gaze fell back to me.

“I probably should’ve warned you that you’d be out here all evening,” he said,
looking down at my short-sleeved, RI shirt. “Here, take my jacket.”

Propping his litter stick against his leg and letting the bag fall
to the ground, he unzipped his jacket, removed it from his body, and draped it across my shoulders. I wanted to hate how clichéd the whole thing was, but even I couldn’t ignore the magnitude of the moment.

For a moment his hands gripped my upper-arms, holding me as if to somehow help me stay warm
. It was the first time since I’d pulled up that evening that I felt like Gabe wasn’t distracted by something. But as quickly as he’d changed, his expression turned sad again. Something buried in the lines of his face looked pained and hurt.

I took
a step forward, and his hands fell away. “Gabe, are you okay?”

He was acting so strange
ly.