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He winced at my shocked expression and laughed nervously, once again plowing his fingers through his hair in a way that was fast becoming mesmerizing. I couldn’t look away. My craving for fast food came roaring back, so I grabbed a handful of fries and shoved them all in my mouth at once.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said quickly, my mouth full. If my mom were here, she would’ve given me the eye for my lack of table manners.
“Yes, you do.” His lips quirked. “He’s kind of a jerk, sometimes.”
I arched my eyebrows and swallowed. “Kind of?”
I couldn’t help it. I could think of a lot of colorful ways to describe Michael and none of them were as tame as the way Gabriel labeled him. My nemesis had rightly earned that description, after that last couple years.
Gabriel seemed to understand my frustration. His cheeks turned red as he shoved his hands in his back pockets and shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. Not kind of. He is a jerk.”
Now we were getting somewhere.
“Bingo,” I said, pointing a fry at him. “A grade A jerk. Plus a few other choice words that would probably get me kicked out of the club if Carl caught me.”
He laughed and leaned his shoulder against the bulletin board. “You don’t pull punches, do you?”
I lifted my chin, feeling proud. “Never. My mom taught me to stand up against jerks like him.”
And you, was what I said inside my head. But this interaction was confusing all of those thoughts. What kind of jerk apologized for his brother?
“Good.” He nodded approvingly, humor dancing in his eyes. “Someone needs to bring Michael down a peg or two.”
It was turning out to be one of those days that seemed like I’d see a pig sprout wings and fly. What was this? A Corrigan brother, praising me for standing up to his brother? I almost smiled goofily at him in response.
It was tempting to fall into the pools of those dark blue eyes and morph into one of those girls I so often saw following the twins around at school. The kind that giggled
at the boys’ every word and tossed their hair artfully and never dared to bare their legs without a major waxing and buffing session.
But that wasn’t me.
And what was more—there was something nagging at me, in the back of my mind. A thought that just wouldn’t let up. I couldn’t keep it inside.
“If someone needs to bring Michael down a peg, why don’t you do it?” I asked, shifting my feet. There, it was out there. I couldn’t take it back, no matter how accusing it sounded. “Isn’t that what twin brothers are for? I mean, you’re always around when he’s acting like a jerk. Why don’t you do something about it?”
I narrowed my eyes slightly, studying his expression as it soured. It didn’t seem like he liked my helpful suggestion. He kicked off the wall and shook his head, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he grumbled.
He was avoiding my eye contact now. Whatever connection had started between us had been snapped by my confronting question. I had no regrets about that. It was a legitimate point. If he really thought his brother was a jerk, why didn’t he step in? He was always there, as a backdrop figure to every awful experience I’d had with his brother. Apologizing to me for it wasn’t going to make his lack of action any less painful.
He and his brother had terrorized me for years.
As Gabriel began to walk away, I got another flare of frustration. “You’re right, I don’t understand. I’ve never understood why you guys hate me.”
He froze, his back stiffening. Turning his head just enough to look at me, he shot me a look that was one part annoyance, one part indignation. “I don’t hate you, Beth.”
I snorted. It definitely wasn’t very ladylike, but hey, who did I have to impress? “Could’ve fooled me.”
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, a move that I often did when my sister got on my last nerve. I wondered if I’d pushed him too far. I mean, we were still anatomy partners. We had to play nice for that if we were going to get a passing grade. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he shot me one last piercing steel gaze before stuffing his hands in his front jean pockets and strolling off.
It wasn’t until he walked out the doors did I realize my heart was performing at the rate of a base guitar at a heavy metal rock concert. I went back for the fries, reaching inside the bag, my stomach growling in anticipation.
Why did I suddenly feel exhausted after every interaction with Gabriel? Being around his twin brother was exhausting in its own way, for sure. But Gabriel was different. He made me feel guilty, and angry, and giddy, and twisted up all at once. I needed to continue to hate him, if my plan was ever going to work.
Going soft on the enemy never worked for anyone.
Chapter Eight
