By My Side (24 page)

             
My night wasn't very refreshing. I didn't want to break up with Gabe, but I needed to. Each day that passed my feelings for him grew stronger. Ten days more were nothing and too much at the same time. My heart was already in a million pieces, and no matter what, breaking up with him will be hell. I could only hope to keep him as a friend. I didn't even know if it was possible when love was involved. I cried a lot during the night, and my eyes were burning. It was so hard to lose someone like Gabe. It was so hard to lose someone.

             
Still in bed, I took my cell phone and dialed his number. He picked up on the first ring. My heartbeat sped up. Damn it! How could I end this when all I wanted was to kiss him and to hear him say he was in love with me? How could I?

              “I was waiting for your call.” His voice was strained. I could imagine him lying on his bed, his guitar on his hard stomach and his free hand in his messy hair. I was sure he was frowning.

             
“Yeah ... um ... Gabe, I don't know how to tell this,” I stuttered, my eyes moving from my CD player, to my window, to my computer, to my door, and again.

             
“Don't say you're breaking up with me. I told you I didn't care about Jennifer!” He was angry. I heard a loud noise like a punch against a wall. What was I doing?

             
“I believe you, but ... Gabe, it's too hard for me.”

             
“Us?”

             
“No, the part about you going back to college, it would be better to just ... be friends. It'll be hard to see you leave, but maybe a little less heartbreaking.”

             
“Friends! Crap! To Hell with friendship! I can't be friends with you when all I'm thinking about is kissing you.”

              “Please, Gabe ...” My breath caught in my throat.

             
“I can't talk to you right now,” he said with a broken voice that made me cry. He hung up. It's over, for good.

             
I cried in my pillow, unable to control my sobs. I heard my dad's car leaving. I couldn't eat breakfast with him. I stood up and took a shower, still crying. My chest hurt so much more than I expected. I wasn't sure anymore if it was a good idea, but it's done. I dressed in baggy jeans and a black T-shirt, and headed upstairs to the attic, barefoot. I remembered the intense look on his unshaved face when he saw my drawings. He was inside of my head—kind of—and was moved. He really saw me for who I really was.

             
I sat on the chair and put my face in my hands. My cheeks were wet and hot against my cold palms. I took my cell and called the only other person I had left, except my father. Andy answered quickly. Did he know already?

              “I was hoping you'd call. What happened with Gabe?”

             
“Why?” My voice was barely loud enough for him to hear me.

             
“He punched the wall like ten times before my father stopped him, and he … well, what happened?”

             
“And he what? How do you know it's about me?” I was a nervous wreck. I bit my nails, something I hadn't done in years.

              “He cried telling dad he loved you, and you dumped him.” Andy sounded uncomfortable, but not overly hurt. “It’s not like him, Lily.”

I sobbed like a child into the phone and told him about the break up. Thinking about the tall and manly Gabe like that was even harder to deal with everything.

              “I thought you both wanted to wait until the last day.”

Good point, but what could I say? Now that we had sex, Gabe and I are far too close—too in love—and I was afraid it would be even more painful? Not exactly a good idea. I kept quiet.

              “You slept with him,” Andy finally said after a minute or so. His blank voice made me uneasy. “I knew it would happen, but it's a little hard for me right now.” He was hurting, but not as badly as if I was at his place, and it was about Gabe. Maybe Granny was right about everything after all.

              “I didn't want to tell you.”

             
''But I told you about me two years ago. We're friends.”

             
“Yeah, Andy, I know that, but Gabe's your brother. And you had some feelings for me.”

             
“Listen to me. I realized that the feelings between you and Gabe are deeper than mine. Maybe my feelings as friends mixed up with desire. I'm a guy, and you're really beautiful, but now I'm beginning to accept it. Don't worry.”

I released my breath and heard him laugh at my reaction. Angela will be good for him. I was glad for him, but I felt too miserable not to be selfish.

             
“Okay. This summer is really exhausting.”

             
“Yeah, but ...um ... do you really think it's a good idea?”

             
“No, I'm not sure of anything at all. He didn't even want to be friends with me. Maybe he won't come to say goodbye.” What if last night was the last time I saw him?

             
“So you'll come to our house.” When Andy pointed out things like that it seemed so easy, but it wasn't. My happy optimistic best friend was fully back.

             
“Do you think he'll forgive me?”

             
“He's in love with you, so yes. Maybe it'll take a few days or more, but he will.” I didn't know if he said what he knew I wanted to hear, but it helped a little.

              “I need to draw.” It was weird to tell him about it. “I'll call you this afternoon.”

             
“Do you want to do something?”

             
“I'm sure Angela will be delighted to see you.”

             
“But it's different, Lily. You'll always come first.”

             
New tears ran down my cheek and fell on my already damp T-shirt. “I'll be fine. Drawing helps me a lot, and I want a day to calm down a little.”

             
“Call me then.”

We hung up. I closed my eyes, and behind my eyelids saw Gabe's hand and mine entwined. It'll be a good start.

Chapter Twelve

            
 
I hadn't seen Gabe since our break up. It's both a good thing and a bad thing. Good because I could try and fail to not always think about him, and bad because I missed him endlessly. The hours seemed to fly by three times slower than they were supposed to. Gabe, combined with the death of my mom, was a sucking cocktail. I even cried in my dad's arms this morning when I realized he would be gone at this time the next morning. He hadn't called or texted me, nothing.

              Andy tried every day to make me call him, but I declined, each time more angry. I wanted to respect his need of estrangement. Who was I to disrespect him? However, Andy gave me some news about him, even if I didn't want to talk about him.

              He packed quickly, like if he wanted to escape faster if he could. He even tried to leave two days ago, but his mother made a scene, and he agreed to wait as was originally planned.

             
The only good thing? Because there always was one, right? Gabe and Andy still talked. Less than when I was with them, but they didn't fight a single time these past few days. I was a little jealous to witness, from afar, their bonding without me. Somehow, I felt useless.

             
I was sitting on the light leather armchair—I couldn't sit down on the couch with all the memories rushing back in my mind—and I was trying to read some Poe's poems. Of course, I was only thinking about Gabe. He is not coming to say goodbye, I was sure of that. My throat was closing up, like always when I was about to cry.

              “You're not really reading, are you?” my dad asked. He hated to see me like this. Now I was depressed, thanks to two people, and he's afraid about it. His eyes were always on me when he's home, like waiting to see me break down for good. He'll probably use the huge word
psychiatrist
.

             
“No.” I was a pro at monosyllabic sentences, no more sarcasms because it would be too long. I kept my eyes on the book, not really seeing the words.

             
“You can go and say goodbye.”

             
“No.” My answer was colder this time. My hands began to shake. I hated having a witness of my depressed mood.   

             
“You'll regret it,” he warned me, like Andy had earlier today. It was so unnerving listening to people constantly telling you what the right thing to do was, like it was so easy.

             
“Maybe.”

             
“Lily, talk to me.”

             
I sighed as I closed my book and put it down on my knees. “What do you want me to say? I'm in love with a guy that's leaving for New York. We're both hurting. There's nothing to say.”

              My angry tone startled him. He was about to reply when someone knocked at the door. Probably some neighbor again. They were so curious about us now, like they really needed salt or some oil. Who do they think they were kidding? My father went to answer at the door and came back with a frown.

             
“It's for you.”

             
“I thought Andy had a date,” I said aloud to myself as I stood up and walked to the door. Of course, Andy had a date because it wasn't him at all. It was Gabe standing in front of me on the porch.

             
I was taken aback. I hugged my little paperback book tightly against my chest like it was a shield. I was a little strange sometimes. Past the surprise, I looked at him. A gorgeous, unshaved young man that I couldn't keep for myself. I'll miss his messy hair that was sometimes hiding his gray eyes. Even more, I’ll miss not being the one who puts the grin on his face and the heat in his eyes. I'll just miss him. I already was.

             
“I'm leaving tomorrow at six in the morning,” he said. I smiled sadly when I saw him fidgeting with his ring on his middle finger, because I knew it meant he was uncomfortable.

             
“I know. Andy told me.” My voice was tiny. Not at all how I usually talked to him. My hair was a crazy mess, my eyes bloodshot, and my fingernails ... I couldn't qualify them as fingernails anymore. Compared to him, I was my own shadow. Well, after a closer look, his eyes weren’t any better than mine. It's comforting for an unhealthy reason. A chill ran down my spine.

             
“Yeah ... um ... Well, I just wanted to say goodbye.” He didn't hold my gaze.

              “You wanted to or Andy convinced you to?” I asked him, doubtful. I knew they talked about the break up.

             
“Even now you can't trust me?” Our eyes locked, and I felt stupid. Of course I trusted him.

             
“It's just that I thought you'd never come to say goodbye and Andy found that stupid so ... I'm an idiot.” I was finally speaking again in full sentences, but it was a mess. I lost my speaking ability. Like it wasn't enough.

             
“No, you're not. I'm a little on the defensive side since our break up.” He brushed his chin and bit his lower lip. “I'm sorry.”

             
Wow. Wow. Wow. He said the “s” word, to me. Yeah, I might seem crazy to focus so much on such a thing, but it's a huge step. I can't even say it, and I'm crazy in love with him. A few tears fell down my flushed face.

              “I don't want you to leave,” I mumbled, all of my weakness showing.

He came to me in two steps and hugged me. His chest was hard, warm, and soft at the same time against my cheek. His heartbeat was crazy fast like mine.

             
“I love you, Lily. You really helped me to deal with Connor's death even if you can't see it. I'll even play basketball again. My coach was delighted when I called today.” He was smiling, but his voice sounded sad. I couldn't see his eyes, but I was sure his smile didn't reach them. I was so proud of him. His new year at college will not be easy with the absence of Connor, but he'll manage. I was sure of it. I was sure of him.

              “It's great. Maybe someday I'll see you play.”

             
“If you come to study in New York.”

I stepped back. His arms released my body. “I don't know if New York is still for me,” I said in a whisper, nearly hoping he didn't hear what I just said.

              “Why? New York was your dream even before it was mine. When we were kids you gave me the need to go and settle in New York.”

It's heartbreaking news. We influenced each other even more than I thought when we were just children messing with each other’s heads. I felt nostalgic. Everything was so easy at the time.

             
“I don't want to see you with someone else next year.”

             
“I spent the last two years single at college. Why do you think it will be different? My feelings for you won't disappear when I'm back in the city.”

             
He shook his head. He was angry with me, and probably about the situation, too. I didn't want to fight with him when we were saying goodbye. It's ridiculous. For once, I wanted another end between us, something that didn't involve a quarrel.

             
“It's just a possibility. Forget it.” I leveled down my gaze and fixed it on my toenails, painted black during the afternoon. It didn't really help stop me from thinking about Gabe, about mom, and the past months in general.

              “But keep New York in mind. Don't make a decision because of me. New York is huge, and college, too.”

             
I shook my head in agreement and hugged him tightly. “You better leave now or I'll never let you.” He chuckled, but it was more nervous than with amusement. “Thank you for coming to see me. I'm glad.”

             
“Yeah, I'm glad too. Promise me that if you don't feel good you'll call me.”

             
His eyes were pleading, and his voice broke a little. How could I promise that? I mean, I'll call him every day if I really promised to this. It would be great, but I could never have closure, and I needed it.

              “Okay, I promise.”

             
We smiled at each other, knowing perfectly well that I'll never do it. We hugged once again, the last time. He kissed my forehead and walked away to his car. It was over. I closed the door and collapsed against it with sobs shaking my short body. My father ran to me and knelt in front of me, worried.

             
The admission period made everybody frantic, even me. The past months were hard, and it was still hard. I tried to hang out with some boys, but I couldn't even kiss them. Andy was worried about me but didn't tell me. I saw it in his eyes. He was the one who organized my dates, but quit it when he saw I was sadder than before. Gabe was tattooed under my skin.

Andy and Gabe kept in touch, surprisingly, but I begged Andy not to even say his name. I just knew he was doing well with his studies and his basketball team. That's all I wanted to know for now.

              So, it was the admission period, and I was worried. I applied to New York because it was my dream for so long that it also became a dream for Andy. We wanted to go to the same college, thanks to my grades and Andy’s athletic performances, so I applied with the desire to be accepted. I just wanted to know if I could do it.

             
Andy and I already received the acceptance letter from UCLA, from San Francisco, and from Seattle. I was more attracted to Seattle, but Andy was more excited by UCLA, no surprise there. However, today was the big day, Friday. In my hands was the envelope from the University of New York, my old dream. I was shaking. It's ridiculous because I won’t go.

             
I was alone in the quiet house. My father was still at work, but it wouldn't change anything. We didn't talk much these past two weeks. We were again falling apart, and I didn't know why. I took a deep breath and ripped apart the envelope.

             
“Miss Saunders, congratulations ...” I read aloud before stopping myself in mid-sentence.

             
I fell in silence, my eyes glued to the letter I dreamt about since I was nine. Before what happened during the last summer, I thought I would jump everywhere with a huge smile and screams of happiness. Instead, I was in the middle of the modern kitchen with a frown and no smile on my exhausted face. My mother dreamt about New York with me. She studied there. Gabe is studying there for one more year.

              My cell phone rang in my jeans' pocket. It was Andy. I took a deep breath and answered to an ecstatic Andy. “I'm in! My parents don't believe it!”

             
I pulled the phone away from my ear before his loud voice made me deaf. He was so delighted, but he could go without me after all. He really could, but he'd never want to leave me, not with my depressed mood.

              “Congratulations, Andy!” I summoned my best imitation of joy. I failed. I was far from an actress.