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Don’t hate on yourself.
You’re a good guy.
I hated the fact that I’d made Gabriel doubt himself. And now with this battle raging inside of me, things weren’t about to get any easier. I wished I could just walk up to him and tell him he wasn’t crazy. That there was a connection between us. If only I’d been brave enough to do that before manipulating him online.
Battlescar13: Thanks.
I hope you’re right.
“You know, maybe in the end, Gabriel really won’t care,” Charlotte suggested, kneeling next to me.
I smiled sadly at her, although my heart was pretty sure she was wrong. I’d been so worried about Gabriel playing me and look where it got me. I was using the sweetest, kindest boy at Rock Valley for my own ends. If I were him, I would never forgive myself.
“Thanks, girls, but it’s time for me to focus,” I said, clicking on my weapons stores. “Just make sure to save me a pint of double chocolate chip for after the game. I’m going to need it.”
The game had changed.
No longer was this about getting revenge on Gabriel and Michael. It was about figuring out a way to undo the damage I’d done.
And decide what I wanted more: Gabriel or justice.
Chapter Fourteen
I thought I knew what torture was. I’d watched enough war movies with my dad to have a pretty good idea of torture techniques used to get a prisoner of war to talk. The slow drip, drip, drip of a drop of water on a prisoner’s face. A little psychological warfare. That was nothing, nothing compared to walking into anatomy class the next day and seeing Gabriel sitting at our shared desk.
How I wished I could tell him that I liked him, too, but we’d won our battle last night. And now, we were both headed to the championship round at the club on Saturday morning—every man and woman for themselves. So if I went down that road and told Gabriel that I liked him too, I’d have to drop out of the competition here and now. Because there was no way he’d ever like me after he found out my online identity.
I wasn’t ready to give up on my dream. Not yet.
But it didn’t help that Gabriel was looking completely delicious in a ¾ zipped red sweater with a popped collar. He’d mussed his hair and neglected to shave, giving him the slightest shadow along his chin. It was a good look. One that made my knees quiver slightly. And when he looked up from his phone to make eye contact with me across the room, I just about fell to the ground.
Suddenly, I wished I’d rethought my outfit this morning. I’d worn a black Harry Potter cardigan with the Gryffindor symbol on the chest, black denim skirt, and fleece-lined black tights. It was about as fancy as I got. But now, I felt utterly despondent. This was nothing like the other girls in class were wearing. They had bright colors and frills and lace. They’d combed their hair into fancy updos and braids. All I’d managed to do was wrestle my curls into something that fell over my shoulders in a way that didn’t look like I’d been hit by lightning on the way to school.
Stop it, I told myself as I forced my feet forward. I could’ve kicked myself for being so pathetic. He likes you. You read it yourself last night. Stop comparing yourself to everyone else.
Still, it wasn’t easy. Confirming that Gabriel liked me might have changed most everything in my world, but it didn’t change my own struggles with my insecurities. If anything, it had magnified them. After all, there was no telling when Gabriel would open up his eyes, take a good look at me, and realize he’d been crazy to fall for someone like me.
I had to stop doing that. Lexi would’ve slapped me for having such thoughts. No one talked like that about her friends, she would say.
“Hey,” I said, plopping my backpack down on the desk. I slid into my seat, not daring to look at him. A thousand pounds weighed on my shoulders. All the lies and secrets and memories of a sweet kiss pressing down at once.
“Cool sweater.” He exhaled with a hint of hesitance. “You look...you look really nice today.”
“I do?” I looked up at him to find him staring at me with what looked like a combination of regret and hunger in his eyes. My cheeks burned hot and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Thanks.”
“I’m a Gryffindor, too.” He lifted up his backpack to show me a gold lion pinned on his strap. “We’re the best.”
“Yes, we are.” I grinned to myself, the self-conscious thoughts about my outfit melting away. Gabriel liked it. Maybe I wasn’t so bad at this after all.
“Hey, Frye, where’s the funeral at?” Michael called from his seat, immediately drowning my good mood. “You look like you’re going to a wake. Didn’t someone tell you that the whole emo thing is out?”
He threw a crumpled up piece of paper at me. It landed on the desk and slid to a stop. I flattened it and on the front was one little word: Poser. My face burned again, but this time, it was anger rising to the surface. I took the paper in my hand and crushed it into a ball as hard as I could. Charlotte turned in her seat to give me a concerned look. She probably knew exactly all the ugly thoughts running through my head right then.
“Ignore him,” Gabriel whispered in my ear. The soft tickling sensation of his warm breath against my ear made me shiver. “He’s in a mood today. You look great.”
I was caught between my hatred for Michael and the way his twin was causing my stomach to do somersaults. Standing up from my seat, I considered whether I should throw the paper back in Michael’s face. It would feel good and Mr. Hart hadn’t arrived to class, yet. Plus, Michael was watching me, his haughty grin egging me on to make some kind of drastic move. But instead of giving him the satisfaction, I marched toward the trash, kept solid eye contact with him, and dropped it in the basket with a smirk.
“Nice,” Gabriel said as I took my seat again next to him.
