By My Side (5 page)

             
“What if I don't want to?” he replied softly. I drank my Coke before speaking.

             
“You love to play, and you need the money for college. Playing must bring you horrible memories, but it's not like you to not fight something like this.” He laughed bitterly, looking at the still-blue sky with no clouds in view.

             
“Maybe now I'm a loser. After all, if I wasn't playing a stupid game I would have been with him and he would still be alive.”
Bullshit!
Now it's my turn to laugh bitterly. I put my still slightly damp hair in a tight ponytail.

             
“Like it would change anything! Please, Gabe! Tell me you don’t really believe that,” I blurted out.

             
“What?” he asked, taken aback with my sudden comeback.

             
“He had a problem, a huge one. Even before you met him, he must have been a junkie. It was a matter of time before he would have overdosed. You playing or not wouldn't have change anything. Imagine one thing. Maybe you would have stayed in your dorm with him to study for finals, but at one moment, you would have to leave the room to eat or buy something to drink. He would have had enough time to take the crap.”

              “You don't know,” he said stubbornly, but thinking about what I just said.

             
“You neither. You're not the one to blame, and I'm not saying this because I'm an optimistic person,” I explained. He finished his Coke and looked far away, his eyes unfocused. His body was tense, every muscle visible under his shirt.

             
“I found him, you know. I found him in his own puke on the ground. His eyes were wide open,” he mumbled. Crap! He was still in shock. It must be horrible. A chill ran down my spine.

             
“I still get nightmares. Every night I smell puke and I see his face. I wake up grabbing for breath and I don't want to sleep again.” What can I say to him? I was just a messed up high school girl who was barely able to manage her own crap.

             
“Do your parents know about this?” I asked him in a low voice.

             
“Yeah, the college called them when it happened. I wasn't able to speak for a few hours.” I stretched my arm and put a hand over his. My fingers were small and very slim next to his. I felt delicate for the first time in my life. Startling me, he closed it over mine. He was shaking and freezing with fear.

             
“I don't know what to say, or do, you know?” I said with honesty, embarrassed to acknowledge my failure.

             
“It's funny because you're the only one with whom I can talk about it.” He was looking at me, tightening his grip over my hand. My heart was hurting in my chest. He was suffering and it echoed through me.

             
My phone rang, and I cursed under my breath. Gabe released my hand and cleared his throat. “Maybe it's my brother,” he encouraged. I laughed slightly, shaking my head and taking my phone from my short’s pocket.

             
“Like he'd call me now that everybody from high school saw us at the lake messing around,” I said. It was my father. My heart started beating hard. Did he call to organize a weekend for the two of us? Was I wrong thinking he was through with me, like with mom?

             
“Hello?” I said with uncertainty under the pressure of the questioning look of Gabe.

             
“Lily, what's happening with your mother?” No hello, or how are you. It's a wonderful opening, and to top it off, I've got a witness to all of it.

             
“I'm not at home and not alone,” I answered gloomily, turning slightly to escape a little from Gabe.

             
“I don't give a crap what you're doing. She's your mother, so keep her away from me. I don't want another call like that.” I took away the phone and looked at it like it could bite. My whole, short life my parents fought with me about my use of curse words, and now? I didn't realize until now how dad was a selfish bastard.

             
“Go tell her. I'm not your intermediary,” I sneered out. Gabe frowned, hearing my acid tone. Forget about being discreet.

             
“I was married to her for twenty years and now it's over. You live with her, so do your job. It's not that difficult, Lily!” he yelled over the phone so loud I was sure Gabe heard it. He hung up. There'll be no father-daughter weekend. Perfect, because I didn't want one more minute with a man like him.

             
I put the phone in my pocket and placed my hands under the table. I was shaking really bad like always when I haven't let my rage free. My eyes hurt. Tears were threatening, but not from the hurt. I was so angry with my father, my mother, and Andy. Who the hell do they all think they are?

             
“Hey, who was it?” Gabe asked, still frowning. Concern was written all over his face.
Maybe I've got someone after all
.

             
“You heard. Don't pretend,” I replied.  He smiled guiltily, but it wasn't his fault. He's just here.

             
“I don't know what it was about, but ... Was it really your father?”

             
“Jackpot!” I said faking a cheerful tone.

             
“Stop it, Lily. You don't have to pretend all the time.” If only he knew, I didn't know how to be around other people, this was my only solution.

             
“I have to go home. You ... um ... You want a ride to your parents’ house or to the lake?” I asked him, standing up keys in hand. He followed me to the car.

             
“I'll go with you,” he stated with authority.

             
“You're kidding me, right?” I asked, shocked.

             
“You can't make me leave the car by force. You're too short and thin,” he mocked me.

             
“You must say you're too heavy,” I countered distractedly.

             
“I'm muscled and tall, but don't change the subject. I'll come with you.”

             
I put the car in gear and hit the steering wheel with my hand. Great idea if you want to feel some pain in your hand. “What, you want to see how my life is screwed to reassure you about your own?” I groaned angrily.

             
“I know you're being a snob because you're afraid, and you don't want me to see your mom wasted. So okay, release your anger if you want, but I am coming nevertheless.” He was as stubborn as me, so I let it go. No use in arguing with someone you know won’t let you win. My breath was heavy and fast, and my nerves were killing me as I drove us home. 

Chapter
Four

            
 
If I was honest, I was touched that Gabe wanted to go home with me, but I didn't want to see pity—for my mother or for me—in his eyes. At the door, with him beside me, I took a deep breath. He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. Opening the door, I only heard the silence. No TV blasting some crap, or radio blaring, nothing.

             
“Where is she?” I asked aloud to no one, feeling my pulse increasing and hitting my temples. Here was what I dreaded. I was more vulnerable than if I was naked in front of someone. Gabe was witnessing me out of control. Okay, I wasn't crying or yelling, but I wasn't the in control girl everyone knew.

             
“Maybe she fell asleep in her bed,” he said softly, trying to reassure me.
Not working.

             
Dropping my purse, I ran like hell for the stairs. I tripped and Gabe grabbed me before my face hit the steps. His grip was firm but gentle. The door of the bathroom was open. There she was, lying on the floor. She was breathing, even snoring. I released the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. She's alive and so wasted she fell asleep on the floor of the bathroom with the water still running in the sink. Wonderful picture. I couldn't face Gabe, I just couldn't. No tears were managing to escape from my eyes, just anger pushing up my nerves. I hit the wall with my right fist … repeatedly. 

             
“Stop it, Lily!” Gabe said softly, taking my hand in his. “Hurting yourself won't help.”

             
I was trembling from head to toe. My body was freezing from aftershock. I looked up and saw only understanding in Gabe's eyes, no trace of pity. He came to me, slowly. I didn't move, I couldn't. He placed his arms around my shoulders and forced me into his embrace. I tried to resist, but caved. I was exhausted and it felt so good to have somebody here. I was so petite in his embrace. His body’s heat took away my cold. Leaning even more into his hard chest, my hands wrapped around his waist. He traced some circles on my back, smoothing away my trembles.

             
“I'll help you to put her in bed if you want,” he said against my hair, his chin on the top of my head. I extracted myself from his arms and took two steps away from him. Immediately, the cold returned.

             
“You don't have to do that. Go home, Gabe.” I looked at the form on the ground.
This is the woman I have to respect? My ass!

             
“She's too heavy for you. It'll take just two seconds,” he insisted, and picked her up like she weighed nothing at all. The muscles on his back and arms strained from the weight.

             
Speechless, I pointed to the bedroom door and let him take charge of her. I closed my eyes, wanting to go into the attic. To stay there all afternoon and night in my own world, to release all this crap. I needed to escape.

             
I heard his steps, louder than he needed to be. I had to give him credit, he was more sensitive than I realized. I opened my eyes and tried to smile, but knew I failed when Gabe frowned.

             
“She's still asleep, but I left the door open,” he said messing with his hair. His shirt rode up, revealing his hard stomach. His skin was even smoother than mine was.

             
“Thanks. I ... I don't know what to say.”

             
I rubbed my temples. What do I do now? My father wasn't someone I could count on anymore, so who's left? My mom's parents died last year in a car crash and she's an only child.

             
“There's nothing to say.” His eyes were lost in time, to the night of the death of his best friend I supposed. “You don't have to take charge of everything. It's not your responsibility.”

             
I laughed bitterly and walked down the stairs to go to the living room, where two bottles were on the floor. One must not have been empty because there was a little pool of a stinky substance that smelled like gin.

             
“Go say it to my father.” I took the bottles and headed toward the kitchen, but Gabe stopped me before I walked away.

             
“If you need an escape, you know you can come to my parents' house.”

             
“With Andy there? I don't think so. Besides, I don't want your parents to know about this.”

             
“Have you told my brother?” he asked between gritted teeth.

             
“Of course not, he just thinks they fight all the time. I haven't even had time to tell him my dad left.” Gabe was tense. He stepped back to let me put the bottles in the garbage.

             
“He's a childish, spoiled brat!” he shouted suddenly. I jumped with the washcloth in hand. He explained his outburst, “He must know something's wrong.”

             
“Maybe, but we're not exactly on good terms, you know.”

             
“And? We weren't even friends when we talked,” he pointed out. I couldn't find something else to say. It's true. I knew Andy can get blind with jealousy and he always was with Gabe. I understand that, but not anymore. It's Gabe who's here with me and he’s the one supporting me.

             
“You want a ride home?” I proposed to him, cleaning the mess on the ground.

             
“I can stay with you if you want.”

             
“I've got things to do, but thanks,” I replied, thinking about the attic where I'll get lost with happiness for once. He frowned, but kept his mouth shut. I didn't know if he'd talk to Andy, but I have confidence in him. We've got something in common, even if it's really different.

             
It’s night, and I was still in my studio. All afternoon I went to check on mom to find her asleep or drinking again in her bedroom. Now she's asleep again, and hopefully for the entire night
. This day was strange, because
despite all the messed up stuff Gabe has been fabulous. He saw me losing control, but he never seemed to judge me. He was there when I needed someone.

             
I put down my pencil on the desk and looked at my new drawing, not yet finished.  It was a portrait of Gabe. All I could think about was him. His breath against my skin, us in the water, he was all around me. Even looking at my hand, swollen from hitting the wall, reminded me of Gabe. Next to my pencil was his number scribbled on the back of a ticket from the market. His handwriting was very manly, but clear. It was strong, but not without sensitivity. Or maybe that was just a projection. I didn't know. I thought I knew Gabe all this time, but our fights have blindsided me.

             
In my drawing, he was staring into space like he often does when he thinks nobody’s looking. His hair was a mess like in real life, and he's got some stubble on his face. It will be difficult to finish it because I’ve never drawn someone I knew.

             
My phone rang on the desk, breaking the silence and calm I had around me. I looked at the caller ID and sighed. For some reason, I was glad he was calling. Maybe I was more messed up than I thought.

             
“You're quick to call me back. You miss me?” I answered, teasing him like nothing happened earlier. I heard a laugh and a sigh. Unfortunately, Gabe wasn't calling for only pleasure. What happened? I look at the clock on the desk, made of plastic to find it's past midnight. He said he's a night owl; another thing we shared.

              “Maybe, but seriously, I saw your lights on.”

             
“I'm not in my bedroom,” I said automatically. “Hmm ... Wait a sec, Gabe. You saw?”

             
“You're a little slow tonight, Saunders,” he replied with a smile I could hear in his voice.

             
“You're outside my house?” I asked in disbelief, standing up and looking out the window. Under the light in the street, I could see a tall shadow with a phone,
No way!
My heartbeat started to pick up.

             
“You've got an attic?”

             
“Yeah, the stairs are hidden.”

             
“What are you doing up there?” He's curious about me? Obviously, because he's here after midnight. I was an idiot sometimes.

             
“Nothing really,” I said a little too fast to sound true.

             
“Yeah, you go in the attic at night just to hang out with dust. So?”

             
“I don’t suppose if I tell you it's my secret that you’ll let it go?”

              “A secret is even better.” I stepped back from the window and looked around the attic. I wanted to know what he's doing here and ... Well, I wanted to see him.

             
“The back door is open. Come in. The stairs are down,” I replied quickly before I could change my mind and hung up on him.

             
I looked at the ceiling, wondering if he'd touch it with the top of his head.
Probably.
What was I doing?
It's too late now. I heard Gabe climbing the stairs to the attic. He's got the same T-shirt and pants on, only his hair was damp from a bath. His eyes were shining under the light of the lamps. He looked at me and smiled. He scanned everything, his eyes stopping on the desk. Oh crap! Crap!

             
He walked to it and looked at the sketch of himself; I hadn't finished yet. For the first time, someone was seeing my art, and it wasn't just some art and he wasn’t just anyone.
Great!
I wanted to disappear. Do you know how frustrating it is not understanding what facial expression meant? Right now, I could die from a heart attack. I was not extremely talented, like Monet or Renoir, so maybe he's in shock to see how badly I sketched him. Or maybe he's frightened to see I chose him as a model.

             
“You're talented,” he said, still looking at the drawing. “Or maybe I'm biased because you drew me.” If he's teasing it meant that I didn’t suck too badly.

             
“Well ... um ... don't tell anybody,” I said nervously, thinking about Andy discovering it via his brother. I cared about my best friend, even if he's treating me like crap.

              “What? I'm not the only one to know, right?”

             
Now that he's facing me, I feel even more uncomfortable. The only time someone came here was when my father and a friend put the desk in the attic. I was confused about Gabe, even more than I cared to admit, but I didn't want him to know it.