Healing Gabriel: Chapter Twelve
〒|〒Evan's POV〒|〒
Shit.
As if I didn't hate myself already.
He hated me. I knew it. I saw it in his eyes. I could feel it in the air whenever he was around. He wouldn't talk to me. He wouldn't touch me. He wouldn't let me touch him. Damn it, he wouldn't even acknowledge me when I said something to him. Not even a glance did he bother to shoot my way.
Was this how he felt when I ignored him for that one month?
It must be hard for Gabe to stay away from me. I mean, I'm the only one he actually trusts. Or, did trust, at least. I don't know where we stand at the time being.
"Where has Gabe been?" Jurnee asked me during lunch.
"Yeah, he usually trails after you like a lost puppy. So, where's he been for the past week?" Slater asked.
"What are you talking about?" I asked after taking a sip of my water. Yep, my throat was still sore. It didn't seem to be going down, though. I think I have strep, but I don't know for sure. I rarely ever get sick . . . "You two both hate him. Especially you, Jurnee. You were bullying," I said, giving them both a look.
"Yeah, I know," Jurnee mumbled sheepishly. "But that was because I thought he was a freak. But...then I got to know him, and he's actually okay. I guess I shouldn't judge a book by its cover."
"Uhh...I don't know," I said, answering her question about Gabe's whereabouts. I risked a quick glance next to me at the spot where Gabriel used to sit. My stomach felt queasy as guilt began to eat at me again, like it had been since Dylan first took me to that damned college party. I wished deeply that I could've had more control over my emotions. It was terribly wrong of me to react that way to Gabriel. He didn't even do anything. All I could remember was the shock, anger, confusion, and then finally sadness that whizzed throughout his gunmetal blue eyes like a never ending storm. My words echoed throughout my head, making myself feel like I didn't deserve to be here.
I had promised to protect him. I had promised to never hurt him. I had promised many things to him, promises that I thought would have been easy to keep. But they weren't, because in the end, I didn't protect him. I had hurt him (emotionally, that is.) And each time I saw him, my heart lurched and my stomach made knots. I despised myself for being so damn awful to him. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have even went to school today. I should've stayed home and slept the dreadful hangover off.
"What do you mean, 'I don't know'?" Alana asked. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"
"I guess so. I don't know, maybe. Why do you guys even care?" I asked, my voice sounding a bit snappish at the end.
"Calm your balls, bro. Jeez. Your mood has been really sour lately," Axel said in a low tone.
"Agree," Slater said, taking a sip of his Pepsi.
"Sorry, I didn't know I had to be smiling and cheerful 24/7," I replied in an obviously annoyed voice.
"We never said you had to. It's just, you've been really mad and easily aggravated lately. Is something wrong? How bad of a fight did you and Gabriel get in? He's also been looking highly upset lately, too," Jurnee said.
I ignored her, instead staring hatefully down at the untouched food on my lunch tray.
"We're worried about him, Evan. And we're worried about you, too. You guys seemed oddly inseparable of each other. And now, all of a sudden, neither of you two will even acknowledge each other," Jurnee continued.
"You're worried about him?" I laughed dryly, looking across the table at her. She held still for a moment, then gave a quick jerk of her head up and down.
"Slater, Axel, Alana, and I are all worried about him."
"I thought Slater and you hated him."
"The only person we hate at the moment is you."
I narrowed my eyes at her.
"You're being a gigantic jackass to us all, which is totally unnecessary. We haven't done anything to you."
"So now you guys are against me?"
"No, we're not against you. We're against your attitude."
I laughed, a dark sound without any humor. "My attitude?" I scoffed, letting out another one of my snobby, uncaring, dark laughs again. "And your attitudes are any better?" Jurnee stuttered for a moment, then turned her head away from me. "That's what I thought," I said, getting up from my seat. None of them tried to stop me, which pissed me off even more. I left the lunchroom, adding a scowl on my face, just to let the prowling eyes who had seen the former scene know that I wasn't exactly feeling friendly and carefree at the moment.
I walked down the hallway, took a left, then slipped inside the junior wing of Clydesdale High. I ran my hand through my hair, about to turn the corner to get to my locker, when something caught my eye.
A small boy with blond hair like a dandelion dressed in a white sweatshirt and light blue jeans. His head was bent over his hand that was resting on his knee, as he was seated on the floor, his back against his locker.
"Gabriel," I said when I got closer, seeing the black sharpie marker in his hand. He let out a startled gasp, his head shooting up. When his wide, slightly piercing gunmetal blue eyes met with mine, his lower lip quivered.
Just the connection of our eyes made the corner of my lips lift slightly. Even if his eyes were hurt and full of betrayal because of me, I still felt my whole mood lifting up. He hadn't given me the time of day for the past week, but now...but now, I felt myself practically dying just to run my hand through his hair. To fill the spaces between his fingers with my own. To hold him.
I just wanted him to be mine again.
"What are you doing?" I asked him. I know, it would've been more appropriate to apologize, but I already tried that. Over and over again, I told him I was sorry, but he always scampered off or ignored me. So, maybe if I talked to him in a normal conversational way, he would give me a chance.
Ha. As if. Like he would ever give me a second chance.
Gabriel continued to stare up at me, his lips parted slightly, his eyes piercing into my own. It was as if he was totally unaware that his eyes were the ones keeping me in place. If they were just regular, baby blue eyes, then I would probably have kneeled on the ground next to him and started holding against me. But, with his unwelcoming gaze, it made me stay in my place.
Two gunmetal blue eyes. The slightest bit piercing at first, but as you stare harder into them, they seem to get stronger. They held you where you were, and made you look inside of them. They showed you what they were feeling, letting instead of the eyes pierce, but the emotions do it.
At the moment, his once broken, sorrowed eyes were now completely emotionless. They were just his regular, piercing gunmetal blue eyes, his emotions hidden deep within himself, not showing.
That was not good.
"Gabriel. . .?" I asked, sitting down on the floor next to him. As soon as our shoulders brushed against each other, he let out a small, very quiet cry/gasp, then immediately sprang up. Before he could run off, I shot my hand out, grabbing his wrist just in time.
He whimpered, but I held on tighter. He tried to shake my hold off his wrist, but I kept my grip. I stared up at him, meeting his eyes. They were full of fear and heartbreak, and a lot more emotions along those lines.
"You shouldn't be writing on yourself," I told him, looking down at his hand. On it was just random letters that were too smeared to read.
He whimpered again, making my heart fall. The way he sounded, so scared and hurt, made me feel like the biggest jerk in the entire universe. Because he was like this once, and I came and helped him through it. And now, when I mess up again, he changes back into his terrified, molested self. Okay, forget the term 'jerk'. I felt like a damn monster.
I met Gabe three months, three weeks, and six days ago. Tomorrow, February first, it will be four months. I remember the first time we met clear as day, like it had just happened yesterday. I was helping my dad and brother unload the moving van, when Dylan shoved into me.
"Knock it off, I'm holding Mom's knick-knacks," I snapped at him, while he simply laughed at my sudden movement to keep my balance with the box full of glass china knick-knacks for Mom's china cabinet.
"So?" he laughed. "It's not like she'd yell at me for breaking them. You're the one who'd drop them."
I grumbled out something too low for him to hear, then walked up the sidewalk, careful of the small concrete block, then through the door and inside the new house. Mom was busy telling the moving men where she wanted the furniture to go. I placed the two boxes of glass valubles down on the floor, in the living room, then hesitated for a moment. Should I finish helping my brother and dad bringing in the boxes, or-?
My back jean pocket vibrated, answering my question.
Taking out my phone, I hit 'answer' without checking the caller ID and headed downstairs to the basement. "Hello?" I asked into the phone as soon as I shut the basement door behind me.
"Bro!"
I smiled as soon as I heard my best friend, Mihael's, voice. Mihael was just like me. Sporty, a bad temper when the wrong buttons were pushed, and a bit irresponsible when it came down to alcohol. The only thing different about us, though, was that he was bisexual. First, second, third, fourth, and any other number of glances at him, you would've thought he was completely straight. But, nope. Mihael had a slight dent in him, making him wonder if he was simply bi-curious or actually bisexual.
My sexuality? I never really figured that out. I wasn't attracted to girls, or guys, for that matter. But I tried to make out, kiss, and date as many girls as I could to see if I liked it or not. In all honesty, I felt absolutely nothing. Mihael said that I probably needed to have sex with a chick, but I didn't want to lose my virginity to a one night stand.
The first time I ever kissed a guy was when I was twelve. And that was with Mihael. I felt nothing, of course. I remember him asking if I was pansexual. I shook my head no, at that. Then, he asked if I was asexual.
I shuddered at that. Not being able to be attracted to anyone? That must really suck.
"Mihael! Hey," I said, leaning against the wall.
"Hey, Evan. How's the new house?"
"Big. Bare. Boring."
He laughed. "See any hot chicks?" he asked.
"I literally got here fifteen minutes ago," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Huh? Oh. Then did you meet any hot guys?"
"Nope, not yet."
"Then go! Go look around the neighborhood, and if you see any hotties, guy or girl, take a pic and send it to me."
Together, we laughed. It felt good to laugh with him. He was always such an awesomely epic person to be around.
"Look, I hate to cut the call quick, but I just want to let you know that I'll probably never make it out to see you in Clydesdale Heights."
"Make it out?" I asked in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I'm about to go paragliding. In just a speedo."
Did I mention that he was a bit of a daredevil, and he liked to get into lots of trouble?
"Your mom is going to kill you!" I said, smiling from ear to ear.
"I know, I know, that's why I'm calling you now! She's going to turn my ass to grass, sassafrass. So, be sure to dress up as the Grim Reaper and stand by the side of my coffin at my wake, okay?" Mihael joked.
"Will do," I said, rolling my eyes, smirking.
"Look for me on Youtube, alright? Good look at your new school."
"Mihael--" I warned, just as he yelled, "GERONIMO!" His phone hung up, just as I heard a dozen other voices scream and cheer in excitement, egging my idiot best friend since the third grade on.
Shaking my head and putting my phone back in my pocket, I heard my mom call my name from upstairs. "Evan! Where are you?"
Damn it. If she finds me slacking off, Mihael's not going to be the only one getting an early burial.
Racing back upstairs, I started to place my foot just outside the front door of the new house when a throat cleared itself from behind me. I cussed inside my head as the demanding, bitchy voice rang out.
"Evander James Ricci, where have you been for the past fifteen minutes?" the voice asked. Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with the monster who brought me into this world, and could just as easily take me out. Why I refer to my mother as a monster, you ask? Well, currently, she was on her period. And during these past two days since she had started, she had been a complete and utter demon to us all.
Don't get me wrong, I love my mother to death. She's kind, funny, and very accepting. Plus, I'm a huge mama's boy. But every month, for exactly five days, she is the devil in disguise.
"Uhh...I went to the bathroom," I lied in a mumbled voice.
"It doesn't take fifteen minutes to use the washroom!"
"Well, I couldn't find it."
"Don't talk back to me, mister!"
I sighed, exasperated. "That's kind of how communication works, Mom."
Her face turned red as she fumbled around her, until digging in a box that read kitchen and throwing a balled up dish towel at me. "You're grounded! For a month! Starting now!" she yelled.
"Yeah, yeah, okay. I'm gonna go help Dad and Dylan," I said, going outside. I knew she would 'unground' me after three more days of bleeding. I mean, if not, I'd been grounded for two years and five months by now, Dylan would be grounded for six years and two months, and Dad would not be getting laid until it was time for him to turn in his car and get a wheelchair instead.
Dylan rammed into my shoulder as he passed my by, laughing as I winced and held my shoulder. Asshole, I thought at him before returning to the white and orange moving truck and pulling out a couple boxes, stacking them a top each other. About to carry them in, a sound caught my attention. I turned, facing the noise. Across the street was a boy who looked fourteen, fifteen at the eldest. He was carrying a bunch of empty cardboard pop boxes, walking quickly towards the curb, where a closed blue garbage can waited.
I watched him struggle to keep the pop boxes balanced in his hold while he tried to open the garbage can's lid. He was failing miserably.
As the wind began to pick up a bit, I realized that he didn't want the boxes down, in fear that they would blow away. Placing the brown moving boxes down back inside the truck, I crossed the street to go help him.
"Hey, do you need some help--?" I started, but immediately cut myself off when the boy let out a terrified scream, dropping all the empty cardboard pop boxes, falling to the ground with them. He pulled his knees up to his chest, sitting in a tight ball with his arms wrapped around his legs and his forehead resting on his knees. Rocking back and forth slightly, he started to whisper something much too quiet for me to hear.
I hesitated for a moment, registering what had just happened. What was wrong with him? Normal people don't just randomly scream and get into a ball when a person comes and offers them some help.
"Sorry, did I scare you?" I asked him. "I thought you saw me, with the moving trucks and everything."
"Go away!" he cried out in a hoarse voice.
Oh. That's what he had been whispering.
A still, odd silence passed between the strange boy and me for a while. I started to pick up the pop boxes, tossing them into the garbage cans he had been struggling with. After I had finished, I bent down next to him and put on a gentle smile.
"Hey, it's okay if you're crying. I won't tell anyone," I murmured in a soft tone to him.
"Just go away, leave me alone," he whispered.
I placed my hand on his shoulder.
Well. That was a major no-no.
"Go away! Go away, go away, go away, go away! Leave me alone!" he screamed, a beg in his voice, absolutely terrified.
"Holy shit, Evan! What'd you do to him?" Dylan called, laughing, jogging across the street and over to the commotion.
"I don't know!" I replied in a panicked voice. "I was just helping him and then he started freaking out--"
"Gabriel!" a woman's voice gasped about two yards away. She had the same blonde hair and fair skin as the boy with brilliant ocean blue eyes. She was older looking, though. Huh. Must be his mother.
The boy hurriedly left his balled-up position and ran behind her, choking back a few sobs.
Wow. I felt so damn awful, at the moment.
"Is he gonna be okay? Did I hurt him or anything?" I asked her in a sincerely concerned voice.
"He's fine, he's fine, he just gets freaked out easily," his mother assured me, her wary eyes calming down a bit.
My father ran across the street to us, placing his hand on my shoulder. "My son honestly did not mean to cause any harm to yours, Ma'am. I'm so sorry," he said in a very sincere tone, giving my shoulder a light squeeze.
"No, no. It's fine. Gabriel just...scares easily. A bad past," she explained, a wary smile making its way onto her face.
A bad past? I thought, keeping my eye on the boy. Hmm.
"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for," she continued.
"I'm Andrew Ricci. These are my sons, Dylan and Evan. My wife is checking out the house," Dad explained.
"Ooh," Mrs. Adams said with a smile, "so you're the new neighbors? I'm Emily Adams," she said, introducing herself, shaking my father's outstretched hand. The two started talking. After a few minutes, Dylan laughed, muttered something in my ear about Gabriel being a wuss, then walked off.
Gabriel peeked out from behind Mrs. Adams, being extra careful not to touch her. Weird.
I felt something inside me change as soon as I saw the most wondrous eyes I have ever seen staring back into my own chocolatey brown ones. Two gunmetal blue, slightly piercing eyes, so broken and scared were the emotions in them.
Gabriel retreated back behind his mother as soon as he saw me mouth the two most sincere words I felt: I'm sorry.
"You can get ink poisoning. I don't want you to get sick, or even die."
Suddenly, he tugged his hand away, as I realized my grip had loosened on his wrist. He began to walk away, his head down, his feet moving quickly.
"Gabriel!" I called out helplessly, my arm lurching forward, my hand grabbing air. I stood up from the floor, going after him. I had to admit, he was pretty quick, and he probably would've gotten away from me, had I not blocked him into one of the corners in the senior wing of the school.
His back pressed against the corner, my hands resting on each wall where his shoulders were, and my body blocked the front of him. He was incapable of escaping me.
Gabriel whimpered, his eyes frightened and watery.
"Please don't be afraid of me," I said in a hushed, pleading voice. "I feel like a monster. Believe me, I really, really do. But I couldn't bear it if you were to be afraid of me." As I spoke, his bottom lip trembled.
"You know I like you. Like, really, really like you. And this is the first time I've ever felt that way about someone. Boy or girl. I never felt for any of the girls back in my old town, or here, as much as I feel for you. I'm not sure if you feel the same way about me anymore, but, damn it, Gabe. I messed up. Big time. And I'm losing my mind with you avoiding me."
The tears in his eyes began to overflow.
"Oh, god, Gabriel. Please don't cry. Please," I begged, my voice going a bit hoarse. That little voice inside my head was screaming at me to confess everything, ever single thing wrong I ever did, but I just couldn't make myself do it. I know it was a terrible thing for me to do, to not confess my wrongs to him, but in all honesty, I was afraid to. I was afraid to lose him completely.
I just knew that he would be so upset with me if he knew that I went to a college party at night. He would be angry if he learned that I got completely wasted there. And, his already broken heart and soul would just crumble on the spot if he discovered I almost lost my virginity to a one night stand.
He would never talk to me, look at me, be in the same room with me if he learned what I did.
I knew it was a selfish, oh so damn selfish, of me not to tell him that. But I needed him in my life. And if he tried to take his life once, why wouldn't he do it again? I mean, by the look of him, he seemed to already be one step closer from the edge. All he needed to know was that I betrayed him, and he'd jump.
"I'm so, so sorry," I whispered, resting my forehead on his shoulder. I felt him flinch, but he made no other movement. I wasn't even sure if he was breathing, to be quite honest.
"Please forgive me," I begged, raising my head. His watery eyes looked in mine, showing me all this pain and betrayal and fear and...hatred.
My arms fell to my sides.
My Gabriel, my Gabe, my kitten, everything I've ever referred to him as...
Hated me.
I didn't even give a single doubt about it when Gabriel slipped past me, running off just as the bell rang.
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Note
Nooooo! Dx Gabriel, NO! Go love that sexy hot mess named Evan! Go, go! *pushes them together*
lolwut?
OKAY! ^0^ How chu guys doin'? Uhm, well, Healing Gabriel reached over 30,000 reads, and I'm totally hyped about that! It makes me want to sit here and update a a million chapters every hour for you awesome fans. <3
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know it's been a while since I've updated! Don't forget to vote and comment! c:
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