Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
GREAT WHITE, “ONCEBITTENTWICESHY”
Gabby
“Ready to talk yet?” Olivia asked as I stared at the ceiling the following morning.
I turned my head, and she grinned. She wore pink sweats hiked up to her knees, white tube socks scrunched at her ankles, and her wet hair had dripped onto her Michigan T-shirt. She sat at her desk while gulping Tropicana straight from the bottle.
The previous night, I gave her and Ben the silent treatment on the way home from the party, washed my face, and went straight to bed.
“If you were raped?—”
“What?” I sat up. “No. I wasn’t raped.”
She capped the bottle. “But you could tell me?—”
“Olivia, I wasn’t raped.” I climbed down and put on my robe and slippers while squinting against the sun cutting through the window.
“Did you have anything to drink? We were there less than an hour, but after you went out back, I lost track of you.”
I cringed at my reflection in the mirror of my rat’s nest hair and raccoon eyes from the residual mascara that survived manically washing my face the previous night.
“You don’t have to tell me, but Ben was in a lame mood after you went to bed without telling us what happened. Be prepared for the third degree.”
Nothing felt real, which was saying a lot since I had a vivid imagination that often felt like reality. Oh my gosh, last night really happened.
“I need a shower.” I gathered my things and headed to the bathroom.
When I returned, Ben was in my desk chair, drinking a cup of coffee while fisting Olivia’s red and white hacky sack in his other hand.
“Where’s Olivia?” I hung my towel on a hook and stuffed my pajamas into the laundry bin.
“She went to the library to study. If you don’t tell me what happened last night, I’m calling your father, but not before I beat the crap out of Matt.”
I squinted, wondering if he would win that fight. He was a little taller than Matt, but Matt had put on a lot of muscle since he moved away from Devil’s Head.
“I wasn’t raped. And I didn’t have sex. Happy?”
“Young lady, you’re better than this.”
I turned my back to him and brushed my hair in the mirror, fighting so hard to keep from laughing. Ben had perfected my dad’s favorite guilt trip. Even his voice resembled my dad’s when he dropped it an octave.
“Why was your shirt on backward?”
“Because someone spilled their beer on me.”
“So your fix for that was to turn it backwards and inside out?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
“You’re the liar.” I turned and pointed my brush at him. “You tried to make me think I was delusional for thinking Matt wanted to kiss me. But I wasn’t. And I know this because he took off my shirt in the bathroom after his girlfriend left in tears because they broke up. And it wasn’t my fault, so before you go pointing any fingers at me, just keep that in mind.”
“Gabbs,” he mumbled, setting his coffee on my desk then leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His fingers rubbed circles on his temples. “This time I’m being serious. You’re better than that.”
I deflated. “It’s not like that.” My words lost all their fight because I felt so guilty for what happened, even though nothing really happened. I liked Julianne. And even if I hadn’t liked her. I wasn’t that girl.
“I had beer on my shirt. And on my way to the bathroom, I heard something. They were fighting. The next thing I knew, she flew out of his room, in tears, and I stumbled onto the floor because of those stupid boots. Matt helped me to the bathroom. He seemed a little heartbroken, but also like a different person, maybe because he’d had too much to drink. He said things that made me feel seen and wanted. But I didn’t want it to go anywhere. Still, I liked that he looked at me the way he did.”
Ben folded his hands in front of him. “You know when a guy is seeing things clearly? When his heart is most pure? When it’s the best time for him to make big decisions like making a move on the preacher’s daughter?”
I already didn’t like where this line of questioning was going.
“Mere seconds after dumping his girlfriend.”
I could have done without his sarcasm.
“Nothing happened.” Again, I waved my brush at him. “He took off my shirt because I had beer on it. All I’m saying is that he no longer sees me as Sarah’s little sister. Can’t you just be happy for me?”
“No. You deserve better. He had no business taking off your shirt. And you deserve a guy you don’t have to chase. You’re the prize, Gabby. Wait for the guy who pursues you. Don’t forget what your Grandma Bonnie said.”
I had a love-hate relationship with Ben because he knew everything about me and my family. He knew that my Grandma Bonnie told me (and my sisters) to find men who we loved with our whole hearts, but who loved us just a little bit more.
“Ben, why do you think it’s called ‘falling in love?’ It’s because love blossoms into a beautiful garden of intertwined emotions. I don’t think all love is love at first sight. Just because I fell first doesn't mean he won’t fall harder.”
Ben opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“And if we end up together, married with a family, we’ll look back on this time as part of our journey. All journeys have trials. But we’ll be glad we didn’t give up.”
He scratched his chin while worry lived deep in his brown eyes. “Can I play devil’s advocate?”
“That’s all you play.”
He crooked a finger at me, and after a few seconds of stubbornness, I sulked toward him.
“Sit.”
I sighed and handed him my brush before sitting on the floor between his legs. He brushed my hair like old times, then he braided it. My eyes drifted shut, and I melted into his touch.
“Do you have a Plan B? Is your whole heart invested in Matt, or is your brain stuck? Do you have tunnel vision? Have you shrunk your dreams into this one guy and the life you envision with him, or will you be okay if this doesn’t work out? Because I can support that. I can be happy for my friend, Gabby, who wants something (someone), but isn’t pinning every hope and dream and reason for existing to this one person. It’s okay to imagine a day when you look back feeling grateful that you kept fighting the good fight, but I also need you to imagine a day when you look back and see how letting go of this dream led you to a better place.”
I turned on my knees and rested my arms on his legs. “You don’t get it. Is this just what girls do? You never talk about a girl like I talk about Matt. It’s kind of a downside to being best friends with a guy. Are you crushing on Olivia? I promise I won’t tell her if you are.”
“Crushing?” he laughed. “No.” Then his smile simmered into something akin to sadness. “Gabbs,” he leaned forward and threaded his fingers through my hair, slowly undoing the braid, “I only get one heart. I’m going to protect it for as long as I can.”
“You’re afraid some girl will break it?”
“Undoubtedly.”
I stood and leaned past him to snag the brush from the desk. “Well, if someone ever breaks your heart, she can bite me. I’ll have a few words to say to her.”
Ben lifted his eyebrows. “Is that so? What will those words be?”
I grabbed my hair dryer from the basket on the floor of my closet. “I will tell her that Benjamin Ashford is …”
Ben’s posture straightened.
“I’m not doing this.” I giggled.
“What? Why not? Throw me a bone or give me a boner. Come on. I need something.”
“Stop.” I snorted.
“You’d tell her that Benjamin Ashford is hella smart?”
I nodded, untangling the dryer cord.
“Kind?”
Another nod.
“Handsome?”
When I glanced up at him, he lifted his chin and stroked it while pursing his lips.
I bobbed my head. “Sure.”
“Sure? That’s your answer to me being handsome?”
“What’s wrong with sure? It’s kind of a yes.”
“Kind of a yes? Gabbs, where’s the conviction?”
“Sorry. I don’t look at you that way anymore.”
Before he responded, I plugged in my hair dryer and quickly turned it on. Then I flipped my hair upside down and dried it while combing my fingers through it.
My dryer stopped, and I glanced back at the wall. Ben was next to the outlet, holding the unplugged cord in his hand.
“Hey, why’d you do that?”
“You don’t look at me that way anymore ?”
I squirmed for a few seconds under his scrutinizing gaze before I snagged the cord from his hand. “You misunderstood. I meant I don’t look at you that way any more than I look at my”—my mind scrambled for the right comparison—“than I look at my dad as handsome. Like when I was really young, I wanted to marry my daddy, but now my father is old and gross.”
“So when we were young, you wanted to marry me?”
“Go.” I pointed toward the door. “I have to dry my hair, grab breakfast, and study.”
Ben’s smile swelled into a triumphant grin. “When you dreamed of marrying me, did your dad officiate? Who was your maid of honor? One of your sisters? Probably Eve, huh? Were the bridesmaids’ dresses green like the off-the-shoulder dress you wore for your senior pictures?” He shook his head and whistled. “Damn, I loved that dress. And I’ll never forget how upset your dad was that your mom encouraged you to get something that showed so much skin.”
“Benjamin, get out of here.” I opened the door and waited for him to take his smug grin out of my room.
He stopped at the door, gazing down at me, but I kept my focus on his chest.
“I remember what your face looked like before your acne went away,” I said as if I thought it was a pointy enough pin to deflate his ego.
It wasn’t.
“I remember when you started your period, and I let you wear my sweatshirt tied around your waist for the rest of the day so no one would see the blood spot.”
I had loved him so hard for that, but I hated that he wouldn’t let that memory die in the past like I did that day when one of my girlfriends whispered in my ear, “Don’t panic, but you have blood on the back of your shorts. You must have started your period.”
I pushed him into the hallway with the ease of moving a two-hundred-pound dresser three feet. “You promised never to mention that again.”
“Well, yes.” He chuckled. “But everything has an expiration date. A statute of limitations. Right?”
“Yep. Including our friendship. Nice knowing you.” I closed the door.
As I bent down to plug in the cord, the phone rang. I set the dryer aside and answered it. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Matt.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from squealing. “Hey,” I mumbled behind it.
“I can’t hear you. Must be something wrong with the connection.”
I dropped my hand. “Sorry, is this better?”
“Yeah.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Listen, about last night, I had too much to drink. And I went upstairs with Julianne, thinking things were going in one direction, but she casually mentioned how much she was going to miss what we had, and for some reason that made me mad. I couldn’t watch another relationship slowly die. And everything went south. Again, I had way too much to drink. Then I saw you, and you’re always so positive. You always have that big smile on your face. And I wanted some of that joy. But my intoxicated brain took off your shirt before getting you a clean one, and I know it was disrespectful and unforgivable. I’m embarrassed and disappointed with myself. And just so so sorry.”
I sat in my desk chair and twirled the phone cord around my finger. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine. I uh …” I bit my lip for a second, as if I needed to hide my grin from him. “I know you had too much to drink. And I was obviously a mess in those boots, and uh … well, that thing that dropped on the floor was from my roommate. She gave it to me. Like, you know, as a joke.” Heat settled into my cheeks, and I was so glad he couldn’t see me.
“So you’re not mad?”
“No. Of course not. I was just surprised. Julianne ran past me, clearly upset and hurt. But then you were obviously upset and hurting too. And I never imagined it happening like that. But?—”
“Wait, you imagined something happening between us?”
“No. I mean, well, what I meant was, uh …” I pinched my eyes shut. “I didn’t mean it literally. Like more figuratively.”
Matt chuckled, and I couldn’t tell if he was laughing at me or laughing from the joy of finding me so endearing. I feared it was the former.
“Well, I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I hope you know that. And I want to make it right. Okay?” he asked.
“Make it right?”
“Yeah. Nothing involving a party, alcohol, my girlfriend crushing my heart, or close quarters in a bathroom.”
My girlfriend crushing my heart .
“I don’t know. Maybe since you just broke up with Julianne, you need time to grieve and get over her.”
“You’re right. I should sit around and feel sorry for myself, listen to sad songs, and rent a breakup movie and eat a whole tub of ice cream.”
I snorted. “Don’t forget to call her a dozen times and hang up as soon as she answers.”
“Boom box over my head, standing outside her window begging her not to leave me?”
“Now you’re talking.” My grin was so big it hurt.
“The question is, do you want to do all of this with me? I’ll buy two tubs of ice cream.”
“Do I want to grieve with you?” I asked.
“Sure. Like a friend. You and Ben are just friends. Maybe you can be my friend, too.”
I didn’t want to be that kind of friend to Matt, but I also didn’t want to wait for him to properly grieve Julianne before seeing him again.
“Fine,” I said with fake exasperation in my voice. “I’ll be your friend. But I get to pick the movie because The Terminator is not a breakup movie.”
“I disagree. It might be the ultimate breakup movie. It’s The Terminator . The end. But I was thinking something like Aliens .”
“Oh jeez. I’d better bring the ice cream. You’re obviously the kind of person who would get a flavor with nuts in it.”
“Gabby, please don’t tell me you’re not a fan of rocky road.”
I grinned. There was a lot I knew about Matt. But one of his least attractive traits was his love of rocky road ice cream. I hated nuts in anything. Peanuts by themselves or peanut butter was fine, but not nuts in cookies, ice cream, or candy bars.
“Rainbow sherbet,” I said.
“Noooo!”
I giggled.
“Gabby, that’s not even real ice cream.”
“It is too.”
“Yuck. But that’s fine. I’ll get you fake ice cream and real rocky road for me. I’ll meet you out front at seven.”