21. Gabriel
21
GAbrIEL
E verybody talked about the game. Zak mentioned it at length in the early morning in English Lit, and Camille lamented she couldn’t make it because it was her mother’s birthday. Zak promised to film the entire thing, and through Camille’s hesitation, Alberto learned Zak was better suited for standing in front of a camera—not behind it.
Vexed by her distrust in his abilities, Zak had then redirected the conversation toward Mathias’s hand. Eric wasn’t so sure it wouldn’t hinder his movements, even worrying about his grip. But after waking in Mathias’s arms following his pathetic bender—with the wounded hand clasped firmly over his shoulder—Alberto could confidently vouch for Mathias’s grip. The Colette team would win the game. As for Alberto… he was hoping for a different victory.
If only he could speak to him again, he could tell him what happened last weekend was all a big misunderstanding. Alberto had already decided never to use his own body as a cocktail mixer again, so he wouldn’t text nonsensical stuff to Mathias in the middle of the night and force him to come to his rescue.
Alberto couldn’t remember many of the events at the club, even less of what happened later at Mathias’s place, except for one thing: he had made Mathias angry enough that the latter told him never to text him again or he would “kill” him. That request would have been really frightening, if not for two things: One, Alberto woke up in Mathias’s arms, and, feeling so warm, it almost made him forget the pain stabbing through his head. Two, Mathias couldn’t possibly be serious. Alberto was convinced of his goodness just as he was convinced that Mathias secretly still longed for him.
He had woken in his arms!
Alberto wouldn’t give up just yet; he had enough willpower left to spare for one more attempt. What he would do instead is apologise for causing trouble, then dig around for answers, and if nothing worked, he’d just stick his hand down Mathias's trousers again, where he was sure to get an explicit reaction. And if Mathias got mad, Alberto would put the blame on him. You shouldn’t have held me that night. No, earlier than that: you shouldn’t have said I was amazing. Wait, perhaps even earlier than that: you shouldn’t have said you wanted to put it in when you invited me over that one time. In fact, let’s go back to the beginning. You shouldn’t have kissed me. You kissed me, you started it. You started it!
Alberto had no cuticles left by the time classes were over. He stalked Zak, knowing his loud boyfriend wouldn’t be far — and Mathias by association. He wanted to catch Mathias alone before he could leave for his football game. Alberto kept his eyes on the happy, carefree, Friendship is Magic group led by Eric as he waited for the break to end, which happened just as Van Bergen showed up to terrorise them. Things would have been easier if Kayvin hadn’t bumped into Alberto on his way into the building. The sight of him brought unpleasant memories, and Alberto had to briefly turn away to collect himself. When he looked up again, the entire group had vanished into thin air.
Alberto searched for Mathias everywhere. In the lavatories, the cafeteria, the detention room, even the library. Worse, he couldn’t even find Zak and the others. Desperate after almost an hour, he retraced his steps to the library and found Zak and Eric inspecting the carpet in the tech section, but still no sign of Mathias. With only a few minutes left before the five-p.m. bell, Alberto forced himself to stay calm and think. Mathias couldn’t possibly have hidden in the infirmary, could he? If he had, then for sure, it meant there was still a chance between them.
Alberto bolted along one deserted corridor after another, his heart beating fast in his chest. Not bothering to take out his key, he slammed his hand on the handle and felt it open immediately. He came face-to-face with Mathias, who was swivelling in Sana’s chair, the old thing squeaking under the strain. Alberto’s heart lurched in triumph. Mathias, however, didn’t seem happy to see him; he jumped to his feet, causing the chair to roll back and knock into the file cabinet behind him.
“Why are you here?” he asked, his face white.
“Same reason as you, I suppose,” Alberto said without thinking.
“Me? I have a… I have a game to get to.” Mathias checked his phone. “Right now, actually.”
Picking up his duffel bag, he walked around Alberto and stormed out. Alberto ran after him, then retraced his steps to lock Sana’s office before racing back. The bell rang just as Mathias was stepping out into the playground. Alberto went after him.
“Could you stop for a second?” he asked, panting. For now, they were alone out here, but it wouldn’t last. “I wanted to talk about last weekend.”
Mathias shook his head and tore toward the front gate. “Nothing to talk about.”
“Wait!” Alberto gripped his sleeve. “I just… I wanted to thank you for helping me, that’s all.”
That wasn’t all, but that had the merit of making Mathias slow his pace, even meeting Alberto’s eyes — briefly. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”
“I do. I really appreciated your help, you know.”
And the hug. I really appreciated the hug. How about you hug me right now? Urgency made Alberto feel feverish. He halted and watched as Mathias struggled to open the front gate.
“I really have to go,” Mathias said, yanking the handle without method. “I… really… can’t… What’s with this fucking gate…? I can’t lose this game!”
Alberto walked up to the gate and unlocked it for him. “I know, I know.”
“What do you know?” Mathias grumbled, pushing past him.
Mathias was too fast, and Alberto was too slow. With the way it was now, he’d never be able to catch up to him. Alberto’s shoulders sank. “I used to play football too, you know,” he said in a small voice.
At the sound of his words, not only did Mathias stop, but he turned around, his eyes wide. “What?”
“I know.” Alberto quietly closed the gate and leaned against it. “Unbelievable.”
Mathias gawked at him. “I don’t believe you.”
No surprise there. Mathias never believed him.
“It’s true. ”
“Which position?”
Alberto hesitated.
“Which position, Alberto?”
“Goalkeeper.”
Mathias’s eyes grew even rounder. “No way.”
“ Way, way, ” Alberto said softly.
Mathias’s lip twitched. He approached Alberto as though he wasn’t sure it was really him. “You—Were you any good?”
Alberto gave a dry laugh. “I was terrible. I spent most of the time on the bench. I was afraid of the ball, you see. So, not so good for a goalkeeper.”
“Then why did you play football?”
“My dad was really into it. He even tried to train me personally.”
“Really?” Mathias sounded excited now. “Wait! Was your dad a football player? I mean, a pro, like Eric?”
“Not at all. He’s just one of those people who really loves football. The sort that never misses a game involving their favourite team.”
“I see…” Mathias’s expression turned thoughtful. “That’s too bad you didn’t like it, then.”
“Oh, yes. And he tried so hard, too! He used to—” Alberto’s voice suddenly cracked. He held up a finger as he cleared his throat. “He used to blow his whistle and shoot penalties at me. I just froze every time. Got hit by so many balls, you’d think I’d have gotten better. But no, I was so hopeless. And he was…” Alberto cleared his throat again, “… he was disappointed.”
“When was that?” Mathias checked his surroundings before he took another step toward him. “How old were you?”
“I was nine.”
“So, what happened, then? Did you quit?”
“One day, Papà finally said I could stay home with Mamma from then on. It was a relief.”
In fact, he said Alberto would get to stay home with his whore of a mother and he wouldn’t embarrass him anymore. But Alberto didn’t want to repeat that because, despite all the respect he had for whores, he didn’t feel like upsetting his mother.
Mathias was observing him with a strange expression. Perhaps it was because Alberto had confessed to something so ridiculous out of nowhere, or because of the names he used. None of this mattered. Alberto didn’t want to give him time to think or to speak, not before he’d say his piece .
“Anyway, I’m so sorry about last weekend…”
Mathias dug his hands into his pockets. “I told you it was fine.”
“But you were so angry?—”
“Oh, come on?—”
“See? You’re still angry.”
“Not you—Shit!”
Something behind Alberto had caused Mathias’s complexion to turn ashen. Alberto spun around and saw a black, elongated van-type vehicle coming to a stop before them. The windows were tinted, but when the one on the passenger slid open, he recognised Eric, and his mouth fell open.
“What are you doing, Matt?” Eric stuck his head out of the window. “We were looking for you everywhere. We have to go, now!”
Mathias looked completely frozen with his bag in his hand. “You… weren’t we supposed to go by train?”
“Problem on the line. But look, I found us a ride!”
The driver’s door also opened, revealing the headmaster. He stepped out of the car and impatiently rapped his knuckles on the roof. “Go on then! Get in.”
He was clearly addressing the two of them. After giving Alberto a panicked look, Mathias finally seized the handle and opened the door to the seat behind Eric. Alberto caught a glimpse of Zak waving at him from the inside.
“You too,” Van Bergen said to Alberto. “Get in. Quick!”
Alberto shook his head. “I’m not getting into your…” He gave the massive trunk a wary look. “… whatever this is.”
Van Bergen gasped in outrage. “Don’t listen to him, girl,” he said, caressing the roof of his beastly car. He shot Alberto a glare. “Suit yourself, then! But you won’t make it to the game.”
“I don’t even want to go to the g?—”
“Just get him in here!” Eric yelled from inside.
Zak heard him and pounced out of the car. Before Alberto could even protest, he was dragged inside. Alberto ended up sandwiched between a chirpy Zak and a Mathias who looked like he was being taken to his place of execution.
“Sorry for yelling,” Eric said, turning around. “I just can’t be late for a game. It’s a game. It’s important.”
“It’s very important,” Van Bergen agreed, clicking his seatbelt into place and checking everyone in the back was doing the same. “Don’t think I go driving children around all the time. You need to win. And you’ll be on time, don’t worry.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m driving.”
Mathias ostensibly cleared his throat. “Just… remember who our parents are.”
Van Bergen gave Mathias a cold look in the mirror. “Is my mother here? Because I sense some hostility in the back.”
Mathias returned his glare tenfold. “Drive carefully, okay?” To Alberto’s surprise, the headmaster started the car without another word.
Thus began the longest car ride of Alberto’s life. The worst parts of Eric seemed awakened by the mere action of being on the road. He was chatty, jumpy, and so loud. Soon enough, Alberto wanted to jump out of the car, despite being on the periph ?? ? 1 . Zak first attempted to soothe his boyfriend, probably worried the headmaster would kill him. But to Alberto’s great misery, Van Bergen actually seemed entertained by him until Eric asked, “Are you married, headmaster?” while rummaging through his glove compartment.
Alberto felt everyone else tense in the car. No doubt, no one had ever dared ask Mr Van Bergen such an intimate question. The headmaster also thought it was odd, because he asked, “Why?” in a dubious tone.
Eric shrugged innocently. “You do wear a ring…”
Van Bergen glanced down at his hand and smiled. “I am happily, happily married.”
Eric turned around to flash Zak a wink, who hissed at him to behave. “So, how’s Mrs Van Bergen?” he asked slyly.
Van Bergen snorted. “What’s your point, kid?”
Zak tried to stop Eric by waving his hands so fast, they became blurry, but his boyfriend ignored him, saying, “You see, I was thinking you might be gay a bit. But gay marriage isn’t allowed in France.” Eric turned to Zak again. “I know that.”
Zak hid his face behind his hands, while on Alberto’s right, Mathias let out a pained sigh. Alberto kept his eyes on Mr Van Bergen, who frowned as he abruptly changed lanes.
“What gave me away? My dazzling beauty, my excellent wardrobe, or did I leave my private invitations to a certain nightclub lying around in my office again?”
“So, you are gay?”
The headmaster gave a slight nod.
“I knew it!” Eric whipped a CD out of the glove compartment. “No straight man would have Najoua Belyzel’s album, you know it!”
The headmaster erupted in laughter. “‘Gabriel’ is a classic, come on!”
“Alberto!” Eric said, suddenly excited. “Alberto, buddy! Isn’t your middle name Gabriel?”
Alberto squinted in distaste at being called buddy and haughtily clicked his tongue. “I will forever regret the fact that you found my old ID. Forever.” He felt Mathias flinch at his side and gave him a curious look, but Mathias was determined to keep his eyes on the side of the road.
Just as they were exiting the periph , Eric started singing his lungs out, screaming “Gabriel, Ga-bri-el!” for no reason. He was so horrible, Alberto feared the windows would burst in protest. The headmaster seemed to agree. His face splitting into a grimace, he rolled open his window.
“Give it here, I’ll show you how it’s done,” he said, slapping Eric’s hand away and putting the album into the player himself, selecting the right track by memory. “This is such an awful song, I love it.”
A truly god-awful song started playing, causing Alberto much distress. Eric whooped in delight, and Zak was giggling maniacally, making Alberto feel completely out of place. As for Van Bergen, he was beaming. “Let’s do this,” he said. “Follow my lead.”
Eric joined in the song with the headmaster. Both their French were impeccable, but in terms of singing skills, the headmaster was a lot better than the student. Meanwhile, Zak was bobbing his head up and down in rhythm, a smile on his face. Alberto discreetly checked out for Mathias’s reaction. He looked miserable, which reassured Alberto a bit. He might never fit in with this merry-go-happy crowd, but at least he wasn’t alone.
Van Bergen stopped Eric after the first chorus. “Sorry, I had to. Do the world a favour and stick to football, okay?”
Eric twisted his neck to give Zak a wounded look, and his boyfriend blew him a kiss from the backseat, which returned the fire to his eyes. “I’m gonna wipe the floor with them tonight. I can feel it. I feel really good. I’m gonna show you, Zak. ”
“Be gentle!” Van Bergen said. “The kids at the American High School are amateurs.”
Eric bounced on his seat. “I. Don’t. Like. To. Be. Gentle!”
“Don’t I know it,” Zak muttered.
Alberto actually snorted, surprising Zak—and himself—and Van Bergen slammed his hand on the klaxon. “Hey-oh!”
“Not even true!” Eric protested. “He’s bullying me, headmaster. He does that all the time. I’m perfectly gentle—with him .”
Zak stuck out his tongue, and that animal actually made a grab at it, but his trained boyfriend swiftly shut his mouth and withdrew to a safe distance from his fingers. Alberto skewered Eric with a glare, but the other shrugged it off with a laugh.
“Okay, let’s try again,” Van Bergen said. “Everyone, sing. You too, Rodin.”
At the sound of Mathias’s surname, a wave of desire rippled through Alberto. The song started again, and this time, Zak was singing, too. Alberto took advantage of the chaos of this new reiteration and covered Mathias’s hand with his own, hoping to feel him squeeze back. Instead, Mathias jerked away as though Alberto had pricked him with a needle.
“Please let me out!” he said, shaking the handle.
Everyone inside turned their attention to him.
“Stop.” Van Bergen snapped his fingers. “You, stop him.”
Eric didn’t even turn around. “Stop it, best buddy. We’re on the freeway. You’ll die if you jump out of the car.”
“I choose death,” Mathias said, his face red.
Alberto’s brows knitted, and he returned his hands to his lap.
“Hang on.” Van Bergen pressed the child-lock button. “Don’t do anything stupid. Then, who will be the goalkeeper? Alberto?” He started laughing, joined by Eric and—to Alberto’s dismay— even by Zak. “No, but seriously. Let go of that handle, or you’ll end up in the cage.”
Mathias immediately stopped fidgeting, and he rested his head on the window instead. After a few seconds, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Alberto didn’t know what to think, but he started having a bad feeling about the whole situation. It was the impromptu karaoke that was causing Mathias to overreact, wasn’t it? Alberto wondered, his right hand itching to give it another go.
Next to him, Zak shivered and tugged at his sleeve. “Look, there really is a cage… ”
Alberto glanced over his shoulder. There was indeed a cage in the back, and he was almost certain it could fit someone like Zak. Alberto blinked at it, then inspected the cabin of the vehicle before he turned around and leaned into Zak’s space.
“It’s a hearse.”
“Huh?”
“The car, Zak. It’s a hearse.”
Zak gave him a look of disbelief. “How do you know?”
“I’m sitting where the coffin normally goes. See this? This seat was added later.”
Alberto found himself in the place of the dead again. How entertaining! He let out a chuckle. Mathias gave him a quick glance before turning his gaze back to the road. Now shocked, Zak seemed about to ask the headmaster why he was driving a hearse, but Van Bergen increased the volume of the music and said, “Let’s go again. Five, six, seven, eight?—”
Zak forgot about his question and joined in the singing again. Alberto noticed Mathias’s knuckles had turned white around the handle of the door. His expression carried a discomfort, a pain so intense that it shot right through Alberto’s own heart.
How could he have been so selfish? Mathias was practically shaking next to him. It wasn’t the song, it was him! He was making him physically ill.
Mathias didn’t want Alberto in his life at all. Of course, he went and saved him the other day; he was that good a guy. But all this time he had tried to tell Alberto he no longer wanted to be near him, and Alberto did everything but actually listen to him.
Surrounded by Mathias’s friends, whose happiness now felt like an insurmountable mountain, Alberto had an epiphany.