You Before Me (2 page)

She's ruined my bath for me, though. I
drain the water and then take a shower. The rest of my day is spent
relaxing with a little homework mixed in. My mind wanders to my
parents. They are probably at church doing holy activities. If I
walked on the same side of the street in front of a church, I would
probably catch on fire. Religion and I don't really get along. My
parents have always tried to force it on me and being the little
rebel that I am, I dug my heels in, full force. I rather leave that
aspect of life alone until I want to deal with it and discover just
what I do believe.

Back to my parents, I haven't talked
to them in a month. They've called, but I haven't answered. College
has freed me of them and the massive failure that I am every time
they see me. But that's not what today is about. Today is for me to
relax, and that's just what I'm going to do.

* * *

Viv meets me for our first class with
my favorite drink, Sunkist. I don't question her kindness. As
usual, I'm running behind. The orange drink fuels me, so I'm
thankful for it, no matter why she brought it.

“Thanks,” I say, holding up my
bottle.

“Welcome. I asked him to go out
Wednesday, but he gave me some lame excuse about needing to study.
I figured that would be a good day to see what's really going
on.”

I nod, not able to say more because
our professor walks in to begin his lecture. Part of me wants to
tell her to confront him or break up with him already. She
obviously doesn't trust him. Viv can say it's because she's
insecure all she wants, but it can't all be her. What the hell do I
know anyway? I'm the single, wild girl who sleeps with frat boys
and gets a speeding ticket while pants-less. No wonder my parents
think I'm a disappointment.

Later, during lunch, I tell Viv that
I'm thinking about getting another tattoo.

“Are you trying to cover your entire
body, Ryan?” She asks with a shake of her head.

“You sound like my mother.” I don't
know why I tell her these things, aside from the default that she's
my best friend, but her frown irritates me. It's not her body; why
does it bother her?

“Maybe she has a point. You already
have three.”

“Are you sure you're not an old lady
hiding in a young girl's body? Because that's what you sound like.
Besides, what's wrong with tattoos?” I love my tats. Getting them
are addictive, and as long as they mean something to me, what's the
harm? Each one has a story that I get to tell every time someone
asks me about them.

“Nothing.
I
just don't like them.
Are you going with me to the party this weekend?” She asks,
changing the subject.

“Hell yeah, I'm going.”

We talk about the party for a bit
before going our separate ways for our next class. Later, when I'm
on my way home, my mother calls. I groan before answering. It's
time to stop ignoring them. Especially when they're going to pay
for my ticket.

“Hello,” I fake a cheery
greeting.

“Ryan, hello. How are you?”

“I'm great. I was about to call you,”
I lie.

“I'm sure you were, dear. There's no
sense in lying, you know. Anyway, I'm calling to check in and make
sure that you aren't wasting our money. Have you picked a major
yet?”

Of course. That's why she's calling.
“No, I'm not wasting your precious money and no, I haven't picked a
major yet. I still have time.”

She goes on and on, telling me that I
don't have time. That I need to decide as soon as possible. Blah,
blah, blah. After about ten minutes of her ranting, I do the most
mature thing I can think of.

“Mom, you're breaking up. We'll talk
later. Bye.” And I hang up.

This week really sucks so far.
Hopefully, spying on Viv's boyfriend will be fun instead of another
thing to add to my list of things that have gone wrong. However, my
mother's words stick with me. I'm only nineteen and in my second
year of college. I'm still taking general ed classes. I have no
clue what I want to major in. That's a huge decision to make. I'll
seal the fate of my future with that choice. How am I supposed to
decide right now what I want to do with the rest of my life? It's
intimidating, and I rather not think about it.

So I don't.

Ryan

“What are you doing?” Viv asks, coming
up behind me. She's entering my apartment yet again without even
knocking.

I'm sitting on the couch with my
laptop on my lap, searching for tattoo ideas with hopes of being
inspired. “Looking for my next tattoo. Is it time to become
stalkers?”

“Yep.”

It's almost nine, and I'm already
decked out in black jeans, a t-shirt, and a beanie. Viv looks
similar minus the beanie. She's got her hair up though. I close my
laptop and follow her out to her car.

“I feel like we should be wearing
leather and high-heel boots. Instead, we look like bums hunting for
our next fix.”

Viv laughs. “Shut up. Do you want to
know the plan or not?” She backs out of the complex's parking lot,
and I tell her to go ahead. “He's supposed to be home, so we're
going there first. We'll do a drive by, and if he's home alone,
we're trusting his word. If not, we're going to figure out who is
there with him. That's as far as I've planned.”

I rub my hands together evilly,
knowing I want a good thrill to come from this. “We have to sneak
around his house at least once. Otherwise, my outfit is
pointless.”

“Fine,” she huffs, unhappy that I'm
not taking this seriously.

We pull up to the curb, a few houses
down from his house. There are two cars in the driveway. It's not
looking good so far.

“Whose car is that?” I ask.

Viv eyebrows are pulled together as
she frowns, heartbroken already. “I don't know. I've never seen it
before.”

“Let's go find out who's fucking your
boyfriend.” That was probably too blunt based on Viv's wince. She
had to at least be somewhat prepared for this, though. She expected
this was going on in the first place. I get out before she can
object and she scurries to catch up.

“We're going to be damn good spies.
I'll peek, and you be the look out. Got it?”

She nods. Crouching, we run up to his
house, then walk with our backs against the side until we reach a
window. I glance at Viv to make sure she's doing her part and then
I put my fingers on the window sill, standing on my tiptoes to look
in. I have the perfect view of the living room, even though sheer
white curtains are in my way.

“What do you see?” Viv
whispers.

“The living room. He's sitting on the
couch alone.” Just then, a girl walks into the room, completely
naked. “Wait! There's a girl. Holy shit,” I add when she straddles
him, and they literally start to go at it. No foreplay whatsoever.
He was sitting there watching TV, she walks in, and bam! Now
they're taking his clothes off.

“What?” Viv nudges me, wanting to know
what's happening, but not wanting to look for herself.

“They're about to fuck.
I'm sorry,” I add with some sympathy, but I don't look away. I
can't. They are
animals
. Wow. She's riding him like there's no tomorrow, and he's
playing with her breasts, squeezing them. Damn. I'm a peeping Tom!
I'm a freaking perv!

“Shit,” Viv mutters, dragging me away
from the sex party inside with the sound of her voice and rustling
leaves.

“What?” But when I look, she's
sneaking off around the back of the house. Why is she going that
way in such a hurry? “Vivian! Where are you going?” I whisper
fiercely.

Suddenly, I see my shadow against the
house thanks to a light shining on me from behind. I freeze. No
fucking way Viv left me here to get caught!

“Ma'am? Is there a reason you're
crouching outside someone's window?”

I swivel, holding my hand over my
face. The cop lowers his flashlight and comes closer. Ugh. Great.
Officer O'Connor.

“Ryan Kavanaugh, right?”

“Yeah, you remembered.” I wish I could
say I feel less likely to get in trouble now, but I don't. I am
surprised that he remembered my name though.

“Kind of hard to forget the half-naked
girl with a boy's name. What are you doing?”

I cross my arms over my
chest. He doesn't need to remind me about that.
“
My
name isn't a
boy's name because it's mine. Last I checked, I'm a girl. And I was
out here because...well, you see.” Damn it, I have nothing. “Look,
my best friend's boyfriend lives here, and she thinks he's cheating
on her. She talked me into spying on him with her to find out.
Apparently, she saw you coming and left me here.” Stupid bitch.
She's so going to pay for this.

“Well, the neighbor saw you two and
called it in. Come with me, please.” He loosely takes my elbow and
leads me towards his car.

“Are you going to arrest me because I
can think of better use for your handcuffs.”

He shakes his head at my comment. “No,
I'm not arresting you. We're just going back to my car, so we both
don't look like creepers.”

“What's your first name?” I ask
curiously, noticing that Viv's car is empty. She must still be
hiding behind the house.

He glances at me, but then says,
“Gabriel. Almost everyone calls me Gabe though.”

Gabriel O'Connor. Gabe O'Connor. I
like it. Someone speaks through the radio on the front of his
shirt, and Gabe presses the button to answer back in police code.
My phone begins to buzz in my back pocket, so I pull it out and see
that it's Viv. I'm not even going to text her back. She left me to
get caught by the cops!

“Is your friend still
around?”

“I don't think so,” I lie. “Could you
give me a lift home? Cops are supposed to be nice, right?” I give
him my sweet smile. There is no way I'm going to push him into
arresting me like I pushed him into giving me a ticket. Officer
O'Connor will only see nice Ryan today.

“Yes, sure. I can give you a ride. My
shift is about to end anyway.”

He opens the door for me, and I slide
in. As I watch him walk around, I decide I don't want him to take
me straight home. He's hot. Too hot to pass up after running into
him for a second time even if he did write me a ticket. When he
gets in, I make my move.

“Hey, since your shift is over, why
don't you do whatever it is you need to do to get off work and then
we grab a bite to eat or something? My treat.”

Gabe glances over at me. “You're
asking me out?” He pulls away from the curb and starts
driving.

“Sure, why not? Aren't you
hungry?”

“I guess, but-”

“Then it's settled. You take care of
your business and then we'll go eat.” I angle myself towards the
window a little as a silent message that the discussion's over. My
phone keeps vibrating, but I ignore it. If Viv wanted to know
what's happening, then she shouldn't have left me.

Gabe seems a little anxious and for a
second I wonder if he's gay and that's why he feels uncomfortable
about going out with me. But then I remember how he looked at my
legs that day, so I toss that idea aside. Maybe talking will relax
him a little.

“So how old are you?” I
ask.

He doesn't look over to answer me.
“Twenty-five. You?”

“Nineteen. Almost twenty.”

Gabe's jaw tenses. Is my age what's
bothering him? Let's get away from that topic then. “Have you
always wanted to be a cop?”

“Yeah. It runs in my family.” We pull
into the police station. He turns with a serious expression on his
face. “Can I trust you in my car?”

“Of course. I can go inside if you
want.”

Gabe shakes his head. “Sit here and
wait.”

“Yes, sir.” I smile.

Gabe leaves me to go inside the
station and do whatever it is he needs to do. About thirty minutes
later, he walks back out, dressed in jeans and a red button up
shirt. He looks even bigger now than he did in his uniform. Without
his hat, I can see that he has curly hair. Can he get any
hotter?

“Where would you like to go?” He asks
as soon as he's in the car.

I tell him about a twenty-four hour
breakfast diner across town. The ride is silent once more, but
that's cool. Gives me plenty of time to think of different things
to talk about at the diner. After all, I know nothing about this
guy. Gabe reaches for the door, just as I do, causing his hand to
land over mine.

He cracks a smile. “I'll get it.
You're a lady, so-”

“That means I can't open the door by
myself?” I quip.

Gabe lets my comment fly right over
his head. “No. It means I'm a gentleman and you don't have
to.”

Hm. Fine. I drop my hand, and he
finally opens the door. We find a booth along the wall and take a
seat. There aren't a lot of people in here. Two old men at the bar,
an elderly lady and a young boy at a booth, and then a middle-aged
couple. The waitress promptly comes to take our drink orders. Once
she walks away, I'm about to ask him a question, but he beats me to
it.