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But then, he mistook me for a thirteen-year-old, which was a bit of a bummer—still, having dinner and ice cream with him? That was surprisingly fun.
This is my first time hanging out with someone in a long time. Well, at least outside of school. That’s all thanks to the wicked stepmother of Washington—yeah, that’s what I call her—my social life’s been pretty much nonexistent. She’s got Dad wrapped around her finger, playing the ‘mommy of the year’ card. I’m just counting down the days until she’s out of our lives.
As soon as Gabe and I are back in the apartment, the first thing that hits me is the sight of a couple completely wrapped up in each other. They are wearing almost no clothes. I instantly want to duck into my brother’s room, but Gabe nudges me to follow him instead. We head into his bedroom, and then through another door.
“So, is this the way to Narnia?” I half-joke.
Gabe just smiles and leads me in. The room isn’t a magical land from a storybook, but it’s pretty awesome in its own right. This place looks like the Hard Rock Cafe shrunk down to a cozy den, with a cooler vibe. It’s almost like a musical shrine, with guitars hanging on the walls, a keyboard, computers set up here and there, and a bunch of other instruments I can’t even name scattered around.
“This is . . . not what I expected,” I admit, genuinely surprised.
He points to a corner where there’s a TV, a bunch of game consoles, and a small, well-used couch. “Ignore the clutter. You can hang out here,” he suggests, handing me the game controllers.
“Could I get my backpack?” I ask, feeling a bit out of my element. “I’ve got some homework and a book I need to finish by next week.”
He fetches it without a fuss. I settle down to tackle my homework, but the exhaustion of the day soon catches up with me, and, before I know it, I drift off. It’s the soft, melodic strumming of an acoustic guitar that eventually stirs me awake. The sound is soothing, almost ethereal, pulling me gently back to consciousness.
As I blink my eyes open and sit up, I take in the scene around me. Gabe’s there, totally lost in his music, playing the guitar in front of a microphone. He’s got his headphones on and his eyes are shut, looking super focused and kind of . . . mesmerizing. The sight is unexpectedly captivating. When he finally stops, puts down his guitar, and fiddles with some stuff on a dashboard, I start clapping without even thinking.
“That was incredible,” I say, honestly impressed.
He turns to me, looking totally surprised, like he forgot I was even here. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” he says, sounding a bit confused.
“I was, but . . .” I shrug, still kind of caught up in how amazing his music was. “So, what is this place? It’s impressive.”
Gabe gives a quick glance at the room, then shrugs casually as if it’s not a big deal. “This? This is my studio,” he explains.
I lean back, resting my chin on my folded arms on top of the couch, and can’t help but admire him. He’s so handsome and talented. This guy intrigues me. There’s so much about him.
“So let me get this straight. You’re a student by day and a musician by night?” I ask, trying to piece together his life.
He chuckles softly. “Yeah, something like that. It pays the bills.”
I remember what Cedric told me about Gabe’s dad being a famous singer and owning this place. It doesn’t make sense why he would have to work. “Why don’t your parents support you while you’re in school?”
Gabriel's gaze drifts to his instruments. “Oh, my parents handle the tuition. But they also believe in teaching us to be responsible, too. Everything else falls on us. Thankfully, I got this gig from Dad. Making music or editing tracks is not just a job. It’s fun—the fact that it pays well is a bonus.”
“You’re not what I expected,” I admit.
I’m in awe. My brother wouldn’t do any of that. He’d rather do as my father requests than work and have some autonomy.
Gabe then stands up, stretching his arms. “Let’s go and see if Johnathan has finally moved his . . . activities to his room,” he suggests with a wry grin on his face.
I can’t resist asking as we leave the room. “Is he always like that? Johnathan, I mean.”
“Yep. I don’t have the best roommates, unfortunately,” he admits, his expression turning slightly grim as he realizes he’s talking to the sister of one of them.
“Oh, I know Cedric can be a slob and is not the easiest person to live with. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t renew the lease next year,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. But then flinch because I just told Cedric’s roommate to kick him out. Oops.
“That’s the plan,” he states. “I’m going to get my EMT certificate this summer, so that’s a good excuse since I’ll be moving to my cousins’ temporarily. Once I’m in med school, I’ll look for a place closer, maybe even buy it.”
I can’t help but wonder, saying, “What about your studio? This place is amazing.”
He shrugs. “It’s not too hard to set up another one. Besides, someone in my family will probably end up using this apartment eventually.”
I never met anyone who’s so close to their family. Tomorrow, he’s taking his nine-year-old brother to hockey practice. In my world, Cedric only shows up if there’s a crisis with Helen. And Isadora? Izzy only comes home during the holidays to keep Dad happy.
As we pass through his room, the frames on his nightstand catch my eye. I stop, drawn by them. There’s one of Gabe, his twin, a girl, and two other guys. They’re all smiles while pointing at a mountain. Then, there’s another one of him with a different girl. They look closer—too close.
