Gabriel & Athena, Book One: F...

By NMBooks

135K 5.9K 2K

FORMERLY TITLED "FATUM" Chosen as a Wattpad Featured Story in May 2017 There's a reason high school senior At... More

CAST
CHAPTER 1 (Part 1): JUDGMENTS
CHAPTER 1 (Part 2): JUDGMENTS
CHAPTER 2: COMMON GROUND
CHAPTER 3: RESEARCH
CHAPTER 5: COMING CLEAN
CHAPTER 6: RUMORS
CHAPTER 7: PAST, PRESENT & FUTURE
CHAPTER 8: THE DEAL
CHAPTER 9: SCHOOL SPIRIT
CHAPTER 10: THE CHASE
CHAPTER 11: TRUTH OR DARE
CHAPTER 12: RULES
CHAPTER 13: FATE
CHAPTER 14: HEAD VS. HEART
CHAPTER 15: SECRETS & SAVIORS
CHAPTER 16: A GRAND GESTURE
CHAPTER 17: CHOICES
CHAPTER 18: MAKING PLANS
CHAPTER 19: THE REAL WORLD
CHAPTER 20: THE LAST CHAPTER
EPILOGUE: WELCOME TO THE FUTURE
Letter to the Fans
Update: November 30, 2017
CHAPTER 1 (Part 1) - GABE'S POV: NORMAL

CHAPTER 4: INTENTIONS

6.4K 297 132
By NMBooks

Chapter Soundtrack - Chapter 4: "Under The Table" by Banks

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            I slammed the door to my car and ran to the front doors of Sparrow High.  I could hear the first bell ringing and quickly decided there would be no time to stop at my locker as I flew through the entrance and made my way to first period.  I fell into my seat just as the second and final bell buzzed through the building, signaling the start of another day.  I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.  Mr. Plum didn't appreciate tardiness and made it his life's mission to crucify those who dared to not be on time.  I was usually early to school but I had taken extra long getting dressed this morning.  After more time than I would ever admit to anyone, I had finally decided on a hunter green wool sweater with a v-neck and my best pair of jeans.  My collection of accessories was minimal, but I had chosen a pair of large silver hoop earrings.  I finished the outfit with a pair of brown stiletto-heeled boots.  They had been a birthday gift from Gretchen last April.  She had claimed it was against the law for a seventeen-year-old girl to only own sneakers and flip-flops and that I had left her no choice but to save me from incarceration.

            I smiled at the memory.  Today was actually the first time I had worn the boots.  Gretchen should  have warned me I would need to break them in.  My little marathon through the halls hadn't been made any easier by the four-inch spikes the terrorists who had made them liked to call heels.  Now my feet were aching, but I had to admit, they did kind of dress up the rest of my outfit.  I had actually considered borrowing something to wear from Gretchen, but her pretty little head was already swimming with the wrong idea about me and Gabriel.  Not to mention she had a crush of her own on him.  There was no way I could have asked to raid her closet without playing thirty questions.  Besides, I didn't want Gabriel to think I was dressing for him, even if it was the truth.  He had been the cause of a second sleepless night for me.  I was so anxious to meet him that once again, I had tossed and turned all night, my mind racing with more unanswered questions.  What would we talk about?  Would I even be able to talk or would I sit there like a moron, my heart in my throat?  Would he get bored with me and leave halfway through?  Why had he even asked me to lunch in the first place?  The intentions behind his actions towards me were what had me the most perplexed.  If nothing else came out of this lunch, I would somehow find out what his true motives were. 

            "Hey, Athena, cutting it kinda close there.  Did you oversleep or something?  Wait, don't tell me, you had a hot date last night." 

            You could always count on Jackson Montgomery to ruin a perfectly fine moment.  Today was no exception.  I turned my head slightly to see him staring at me, along with several other students who were more than interested in seeing if I would take the bait.

            "Let me guess who it was with...um...was it Harry Potter or Frodo?" he said, bursting into laughter.  A few other students started snickering also.

            Before I could respond with my own snarky remark, Mr. Plum started the day's lesson.  With one comment, Jackson had tainted my entire mood.  His words were more proof that he and the rest of the senior class thought I had no life outside of books.  I tried to shake my soured disposition and started to count the minutes until I could make my way to the library. 

            Three hours later and my hand was on the door handle.  It had been there for the past five minutes and was now drenched in sweat.  What was wrong with me?  It was just the library.  No.  That was a huge understatement.  I wasn't about to walk into what had been my haven for so long.  This wasn't just my library anymore.  It was my library with Gabriel in it.  That changed everything.

            I started scolding myself.  I was stronger than this, and I was definitely capable of having lunch with another person.  Only that's when I realized Gabriel Valente wasn't just another person.  He had somehow become more than that to me in the short amount of time I had known him.  Intuitively, I knew that once I opened the door and walked inside, nothing in my life was ever going to be the same.  There were suddenly a hundred different voices in my head.  I could hear Gretchen squealing, "What are you waiting for!  For once in your life, do something wild and crazy.  Make me proud!"  Then there were the other girls who had vied for Gabriel's attention saying, "Go ahead, walk in there and make a fool of yourself.  Do you actually think the gorgeousness that is Gabriel Valente could actually be interested in mousy little Athena Thorpe?"  In the background was Jackson's haunting laugh.   Even my mother had made her way into the imaginary conversation with her sage advice, "Just remember, you can't go back.  You can never go back."

            I silenced my uninvited guests and pulled open the door, letting it swing shut behind me as I walked into the library.  I headed in the direction of my couch, assuming that's where he would be waiting.  As I passed rows of bookshelves and turned the corner, I stopped in my tracks.  Up ahead was the couch I had sat in everyday...and it was empty.  Gabriel wasn't there.  I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I slowly arrived at the couch.  Though my initial thought was that I had been unceremoniously stood up, I didn't want to hastily jump to conclusions.  Maybe he was somewhere else.  I removed his note from my back pocket.  It clearly stated same time, same place so the couch had to be where he was referring to.  I contemplated walking around to look for him, but my body seemed weighed down by the possibility that I had once again made the wrong decision when it came to a boy.

            "I was wondering when you were going to show up," said a familiar voice to my left.

            I turned my head to see Gabriel standing a few feet away from me.  "You're actually here," I stated, surprised and relieved at the same time. 

            His hands started sliding over his chest and face.  "What do you know, I am here," he exclaimed, shaking his head with wonder.

            I smiled, chastising myself for assuming his invitation was anything but genuine.

            "I'm the one who asked you to meet me here, goddess.  Where else would I be?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and staring at me with curious eyes.

            "Um...I...well I walked in and saw the empty couch...and I just assumed that...."  My voice trailed off as I looked away from him, suddenly feeling very foolish.

            "You assumed what?"

            "Your note said same time, same place so I assumed you'd be waiting at the couch, but when I didn't see you, I just figured..."  I stopped speaking again, not able to finish confessing what I had thought.

            He took a few steps towards me.  "Do you always think the worst of people?" he asked quietly.

            "No," I said quickly.  "Look, I know I shouldn't have jumped to the wrong conclusions but...."

            "This has something to do with why you hide, doesn't it?" he asked, crossing his arms across his chest.  He was wearing khakis and a brown button-down shirt with a white tee underneath.  He was another Gretchen.  He could wear anything and still look like he should be on the cover of GQ magazine. 

            "You're not going to let this go, are you?" I remarked, silently hoping I wasn't going to have to start our lunch off with a recap of the most humiliating experience of my life.

            "It's not polite to answer a question with a question," he stated, the perfect features of his face starting to relax.  His lips shaped themselves into a small grin.

            I exhaled and smiled widely before replying.  "I never said I was polite."

            He chuckled before responding.  "I have to admit.  I was actually a little worried you were going to stand me up," he confessed.

            "Why?" I asked, shocked by his words.

            "Probably because your last class ended almost ten minutes ago and I figured you to be the prompt type, but instead you kept me waiting.  I demand an explanation," he said, his voice filled with mock sternness while his eyes danced with amusement.

            "First of all, Dad, I had a stop to make before coming here, so sue me.  Second of all, you didn't leave me any way to rsvp to your invitation."

            He was laughing again.

            "And third of all," I continued, "you really shouldn't be making any assumptions.  Despite your surveillance of me last week, there's still a lot you don't know."

            His laughter subsided as I waited for a response, but he just stood there, smiling and staring with his warm brown eyes. 

            "What?" I finally said, becoming very uncomfortable under the weight of his stare.

            "Oh, you were finished?  Then I apologize.  I was just waiting because I thought there might be a fourth or fifth of all," he replied.

            "Ha ha," I muttered sarcastically.  "Well, I'm here and I'm hungry.  Your note did say something about food, right?"

            Instead of responding, he took a few steps forward and brought his hand up to my cheek, cupping it in the warmth of his palm.  My lips parted slightly in shock.  Our eyes were glued to each other and I was fairly sure the intense beating of my heart was providing a very loud soundtrack for this moment.  He moved his hand slightly to allow his fingers to slowly trace their way down my face, coming dangerously close to my lips.  A moment later he removed his hand altogether.

            I couldn't speak but my eyes gazed at him questioningly.

            "Just making sure you were actually here, goddess," he explained in a low voice, the hint of a smile on his lips.  "Now, follow me."

            As soon as he turned away my hand shot up to my face, my fingers mimicking the path his had taken.  His touch had been soft and kind, and electric.  It had been so...intimate.  It was a gesture one made to someone they were familiar and comfortable with.  That didn't describe us.  It couldn't, not in the miniscule span of time I had known him.

            He began to lead me to a rectangular table in a far corner surrounded by bookshelves.  As we approached, he twisted his head towards me. "Although I may not know everything about you, I'm hoping I knew enough to satisfy your hunger."

            We had now reached the table and as he pulled a chair out on one side, I glanced at the contents laid out in front of me.  What I saw made me stand still in astonishment.  There were burgers and fries from Calhoun's sitting in white plastic boxes with the lids flipped open.  There were also two huge chocolate caramel cookies from Divine Pastries, the best dessert shop in town.  I reached out and lifted the bun off of one of the burgers.  Double cheese and no pickles.  Exactly the way I liked it.  I looked up at him.  He hadn't just brought us lunch.  He had gotten all of my favorites.  I was about to ask him how he could have known, but then I remembered he had been playing detective.

            "Wow, you should really think about joining the FBI.  You'd quickly be named employee of the month," I said, slowly sitting down.

            As he pushed my chair forward, he brought his lips down next to my ear.  His breath caused my skin to tingle as he spoke.  "Yeah, I have a feeling my application wouldn't exactly make it to the top of that callback list."  He walked to the other side of the table and sat down across from me. 

            I tried to keep my senses in check, but they were now speeding into overdrive.  I couldn't let him affect me like this.  I was tempted to ask that he remain at least five feet away from me at all times.  How else could I ensure that I wouldn't evaporate into a liquid mess right in front of him?  I looked into his eyes, not sure what to say.  We both knew what he was referring to.  The son of a mobster working for the FBI?  The chances were unlikely, if not downright non-existent.

             "Besides, what you call spying isn't a hobby of mine, goddess.  I only participate when I find an object worthy of my abilities."

            "And I'm worth it?" I asked, looking at him in disbelief.

            "Absolutely.  I've observed many people in my eighteen years and you've definitely been one of the most fascinating."

            "Me...fascinating?  And what exactly fascinates you more, the way I turn the pages of a book or the way I ring up customers at Robertson's?"

            He grinned.  "It's more of the way that you're this paradox I'm having some difficulty figuring out."

            "I'm fascinating...I'm a paradox...I'm a goddess...should I donate myself to science to be studied?"

            "Not necessary.  I think I'm doing a more than thorough job all on my own," he replied matter-of-factly.

            I rolled my eyes.  "So, I'm a paradox.  Explain."

            "Okay.  On the one hand, you make no apologies for who you are.  You love to read so you read.  Most girls our age are all about conforming and changing whatever they have to about themselves to fit in, but not you."

            I glanced down nervously, unable to believe there was finally someone who didn't view my obsession with books as unhealthy or abnormal.

            "But," he continued, "on the other hand, there is a part of you that allows outside forces to control your actions.  Right now the rest of your classmates are all out having lunch together, laughing and socializing.  You instead spend your time here, the only people keeping you company being the characters in all of these books surrounding us.  You're hiding among them, goddess."

            I stared at him, trying to decide if his analysis was more complimentary or insulting.  My defenses were always up, but now I felt them tightening.  I decided to change the subject altogether.  I cleared my throat, careful to keep my voice neutral.  "You know, you should really stop calling me goddess.  I might get a complex," I said.

            "Did you ever think that maybe you're entitled to one?"  His eyes were more serious now as they became locked with mine.

            He was good.  So good that I could feel my tiny crush, which I could hardly even admit to, turning into something more than a crush.  Only this was happening way too fast.  Not that I had any kind of real experience in this arena, but I had heard it was best to take things slow.  Baby steps.  And in any event, I still had no idea what his intentions were.

            "Okay, time to eat before your burger gets cold," he said, interrupting my thoughts.  "And before I forget..."  He reached under the table and picked up a brown paper bag.  He removed a large strawberry smoothie and set it before me.  "Your sweet nectar."  He removed another from the bag for himself.

            I was overwhelmed.  Putting together this lunch was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me.  A part of me instantly became suspicious as to why he was trying so hard, while another part was so utterly flattered he had even made the effort.  "You've obviously gone out of your way with this.  I'm not really sure how to thank you," I commented.

            "You just did, but you could also start to actually eat some of it so my hard work doesn't go to waste.  The clock is ticking."

            I took a sip of the creamy drink and picked up my burger.  I was about to take a bite when I looked up.  As always, his eyes were focused on me.  "Are you going to eat also or is the food in front of you only there for visual effect?" I asked.

            "You're sassy.  I like it!" he exclaimed, throwing a fry into his mouth.

            I shook my head and smiled as I chewed.  His infectious laugh was starting to diminish the outer layers of my suspicions.  I was beginning to wonder if I could really have the kind of effect on him that he always had on me.

            "So, are you going to enlighten me this time?"

            "What would you like to know?" I replied, taking another bite of the burger. 

            "Everything," he stated.  "Though for now, I'll settle for some of those questions clouding your beautiful eyes."  He picked up his burger, but stopped abruptly before lifting it to his mouth.   "And the real questions this time," he added, giving me a knowing stare.  He took a huge bite, put the burger down and sat back, chewing...and waiting.

            "Fine," I said, ready for the challenge.  "Why don't we start with how you even made this happen?  Do you not have a third period or did it just not fascinate you enough today?"

            He chuckled.  "Yes, I do have a third period.  And while I hated missing Mr. Bartlett's eye-opening lecture on the inner-workings of underwater mammals, I did have more pressing matters to attend to," he explained, gesturing towards the food in front of us.

            "Do you cut class often?" I asked, curious to know if this was the reason why I rarely saw him in the halls.

            "Occasionally, but I'm present most of the time.  I've quickly learned that the most exciting thing about this town during the weekdays is within these walls, not outside of them."

            I was back in the web and the spider was slowly closing in on me.  I put down my burger and grabbed my drink, taking a long sip.  I said the first thing that entered my mind.  "Cutting class, huh?  I wonder if the secret service knows."

            "The secret service?" he asked, his eyebrows crinkling with curiosity.

            I chuckled, setting my drink on the table.  "In case you haven't noticed, you happen to be very fascinating yourself, to just about every girl at Sparrow High.  However, I do have to warn you, you're kind of letting them down," I whispered.

            "Am I?  In what way?"  He seemed very intrigued.

            "Well, Sparrow is your average small town.  Someone colors their hair blue and it's considered a scandal.  Then you arrive.  Let's just say people had visions of what you would be like, especially the secret service." 

            "And the secret service is who exactly?"

            "The bulk of the female senior class.  They wanted bad boy Gabriel Valente to walk in here and take them on a wild ride, but my sources tell me you haven't asked any of the girls here out on a date.  Small town girls not your thing, city boy?"

            "City boy?" he chuckled, raising one eyebrow.

            "You're not the only one who can come up with a pet name," I declared, tilting my head and smiling sweetly.

            He paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on mine as he continued to smile at me.  "First, I'd just like to say that I'm extremely flattered to hear you've been consulting your sources about me."

            I inwardly cringed, realizing too late that I had given myself away.  I remained silent, hoping he wouldn't dwell on the fact that I obviously found him very fascinating as well.

            "To answer your question, I don't judge people by where they come from.  Big cities...small towns...I'm open to women from all walks of life," he said.

            "I'll bet," I remarked, raising my eyebrows.

            "Don't give me that look, goddess."

            "There's no look."

            "There is most definitely a look.  What was it you said earlier about making assumptions?"  He leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table.

            I narrowed my eyes at him, even though I knew he was right.  And he knew that I knew.

            "Besides, your sources are wrong."

            "Wrong?" I repeated.

            "Yes, wrong.  I have in fact asked someone from this school out and, don't tell the secret service this, but she actually said yes."

            "Oh," I replied nonchalantly.  His answer hit me like a ton of bricks, but I kept my dismay concealed.  I had told Nathan the first day I met Gabriel that he was probably a player.  Turns out I was right.  He was sitting here with me, eating all of my favorite foods that he had cut class to get, but was also dating one of my peers.  I sighed.  It's not like I had some exclusive hold on him.  He could date ten different girls at the same time and there really wouldn't be anything wrong with it.   He wasn't anyone's boyfriend, especially not mine

            "What is it?" he asked, confusion washing over his face.

            "Um...nothing," I mumbled, starting to break my cookie into little bite-size pieces to avoid his gaze.

            "You're really not a good liar.  The FBI is definitely out for you," he joked.

            I kept messing with the cookie, which was now practically in crumbs on the napkin it had been placed upon.

            "Can you please stop desecrating what was once a perfectly good dessert and look at me?" he said, frustrated.

            I wiped cookie particles off my hands and reluctantly lifted my eyes to his. 

            "What's wrong?"

            "It's nothing," I said again, "I was just thinking that my best friend Gretchen is going to be very disappointed the secret service has failed her.  It seems they haven't been made aware of your date."  I could barely say the word without wanting to throw up.  "Trust me, Gretchen would know if they knew."

            "I see.  Well, if the secret service is any good at their job, I'd guess they're finding out about it right now."

            "Right now?" I repeated.  "But that would mean..."

            He looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to finish.

            "You can't possibly mean this?" I said, pointing one finger at him and then back at myself.

            "Why not?" he asked, pushing the food in front of him off to the side of the table so he could lean in closer.

            "Because...this...it's not a date.  We're just...we're just..."

            "We're just what?" he sighed.

            "We're just meeting," I answered.  "Having a conversation and some lunch in a library."

            "It's a date," he said with conviction, crossing his arms.

            "No, it isn't," I insisted, my cheeks starting to burn as my heartbeat quickened.

            "And why can't this be a date?" he pressed, his eyes still looking at me with a mild amount of amusement.

            "Because I'm not the type of girl you'd be interested in," I finally blurted out, my voice several octaves above the library limit.

            He waited a moment before responding.  "Then tell me, all-knowing one, who would you consider my type?"  His tone had an edge of hardness which ignited my own frustration and anger.

            "I don't know...Kristy Spelling?" I hissed, a feeling of nausea starting to form in the pit of my stomach. 

            "Oh wow, you must really have a low opinion of me," he scoffed, giving me an incredulous look.

            "Was I really that off base?"

            "I'd like to think I have better taste," he shot back, the halos in his eyes now on fire.  "But it's good to know what you think of me."

            I looked away, a million different emotions fighting against each other inside of me.  I was angry, but not at him, at myself for once again jumping to the wrong conclusions.  I was embarrassed for not admitting to myself what this lunch really was.  And most importantly, I was on a high from the fact that he did consider it a date.  I decided to go with that emotion...at the exact moment he decided to stand up and leave.  I watched him as he started to dump the remnants of our short-lived lunch into a large brown paper bag.  "Why are you leaving?" I asked meekly.

            "You've made it clear visitors aren't welcome in your hideaway.  I guess it's time I listen.  Sorry it took me so long to get the hint," he snapped, grabbing our drinks and placing them in the bag as well.  He grabbed his book bag and walked around the table.  "Have fun with all your friends," he said, gesturing towards a row of bookshelves nearby.

            "That was a cheap shot," I growled, standing up to face him. 

            "Oh, and your comment about me dating someone like Kristy Spelling wasn't?  If you don't want to be stereotyped, maybe you shouldn't do it to other people."  He started walking away before I could respond. 

            As I watched him leave I realized he was right, but that didn't stop me from still being extremely offended by his words as well.  I started to follow him.  "Wait," I called out to him.

            He stopped in between two bookshelves.  I took a few steps forward.  I could hear him let out a deep breath as he slowly turned to face me.

            "Overreact much?" I said, crossing my arms and lifting my chin.

            He narrowed his eyes. "Is that your idea of an apology?" he scoffed.

            "You weren't exactly nice either," I replied.

            He immediately began to walk away again.

            "I'm sorry," I finally said.  "You're right.  I shouldn't have assumed Kristy would be your type.  I don't know you well enough to make that kind of judgment."

            He dropped his bags on the floor and gave me a pained expression.  "I'm sorry too, but do you have any idea how frustrating you can be sometimes?" he asked, visibly trying to keep his voice low.

            "Oh, and you think you're a walk in the park?"

            He took a few steps closer.  "Why are you so afraid of this, goddess?"

            "Probably because I'm not sure what this is," I informed him.

            He chuckled, shaking his head.  "Does it have to have a definition?  All I know is there is this, I don't know, this pull that keeps bringing me back to wherever you are."

            My previous bravado vanished as his words began to sink in.

            "But you seem determined to not even acknowledge it.  Why?" he asked.

            "It's not like you've been so forthcoming about what your intentions are, Gabe.  Maybe you haven't done anything to make me think the worst, but we've only known each other for a short time.  Can you really blame me if I'm a little wary of someone who is not only the exact opposite of me but is pursuing me in a way that isn't exactly normal?"

            I could see him start to relax a little.  He took a few more steps towards me which started to make me relax a little less.  We were now standing face to face.  "So you want to know what my intentions are?"

            "It would be nice if you clued me in," I responded.

            His lips formed a small grin.  "Fine.  Contrary to what you're probably thinking, I don't have an agenda or some ulterior motive.  It's just nice to have someone other than my mother to talk to.  Especially someone my age who isn't preoccupied with the superficial things...or the details of my so-called life."

            "That's it?"

            He nodded.  "I think that's a good place to start."  He grabbed a book from the shelf to his right and held it in his hands, glancing back at me.  "Look, I know you're used to being able to see a story through from beginning to end at your own speed, but this is going to be different."

            "We're a story now, huh?" I asked, raising one eyebrow.

            "Well, sure.  Isn't everyone's life a story?" he asked.

            "I guess, but I can promise you mine isn't as interesting as you think."

            "Maybe your story is just starting."

            "Maybe," I said.  "Any idea how it's going to end?"

             "Why worry about the end?  I'm more interested in what will happen next."

            I suddenly realized that at some point we had moved so close to each other we were practically touching.  I met his eyes and said, "You said your intentions were just to spend some time together.  I'm okay with that,"

            "Are you sure?" he asked, raising his hand to move some of my hair behind my shoulder.

            "Yes," I breathed, not able to say anything else.  

            "Good," he replied.

            Neither of us said anything more or moved a muscle.  The silence around us was only fragmented by our breathing and the insanely loud thumping of my heart.  Just when I thought I saw him about to slightly bend his head towards me, the bell rang.  I stepped back abruptly, causing him to start chuckling again.  He bent down to pick up the bags he had dropped earlier.  I walked back to the table to retrieve my book bag as well and could hear him behind me.

            "Since we didn't actually get to finish our meal, I think we need a do over," he suggested as we made our way to the exit.

            "What did you have in mind?"

            "How about dinner tonight?"

            "I'm working," I said, silently cursing the need for employment.

            "Okay, how about tomorrow night?"   We had reached the doors and he started to push one of them open.

            "I'm doing research at the library for my English paper," I answered, now cursing the need for an education.

            "If this is your way of saying no, you can be upfront about it," he said. 

            "I'm not saying no, I swear.  It's just that I'll be working the rest of the week so tomorrow night will be the only night I'll be able to get to the library," I explained. 

            "Can I join you?"

            One thing was certain: when Gabriel Valente wanted something, no obstacle would get in his way.  I was about to respond when I suddenly noticed that although there were only a few minutes until the second bell would be ringing, no one seemed to be in a hurry to get to their classes.  Gabe and I had suddenly become the feature presentation at Sparrow High and everyone wanted an exclusive backstage pass.  I finally looked back at him and was surprised to see that he didn't appear the least bit bothered by our new found fame.  Then again, it wasn't new for him.  Unfortunately, I had also been the center of attention once before, but I was in no hurry to reclaim that spotlight.

            "Am I allowed to accompany you tomorrow night or not?" he asked, moving closer to me.  He could probably sense my discomfort and surprisingly, his presence was reassuring. 

            "Sure, tomorrow night.  I'll be there at around seven," I answered quietly, trying to ignore the stares.  Thankfully, the second bell finally rang which caused all of the gawkers to start running to their respective classes.

            "And just to clarify, it's a study date, goddess," Gabe said, winking at me before making his way to his own class.

            Although I knew I was going to be late, I just stood there, watching him walk down the hallway.  Good intentions or not, the spider had won.


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