Chapter 24 #2
“You’d be surprised how many people use tradition as an excuse to keep outdated ideals around.” The cheering rose to painfully shrill heights, even this far away.
“There’s nothing surprising about that. Bigotry is as resilient as a cockroach.”
But sadly, it couldn’t be squashed as easily.
They went to the alcove where they’d spoken to Rosalie, sitting against the wall in the empty space beneath the stairs. It was quieter here, and part of the track was visible out the window, blurred by the haze of rain.
Normally, Miles would’ve gone to the library, but he had a suspicion Joe wouldn’t be thrilled to see them.
“Last time you had something to tell me, it was that you think my mother wants to murder me,” Gabriel commented wryly. “Should I brace myself?”
“For once, I have good news. Kinda.” He wanted to temper Gabriel’s expectations. “I told my parents about… well, all of this. Last night. They found out I was at your place yesterday, and everything just came out. It was a lot.”
That might’ve been the world’s biggest oversimplification.
“And?” Gabriel prompted, when Miles paused. “If you’re trying to drag out the suspense, consider me on the edge of my seat.”
“I was getting there.” Miles knocked their knees together. “I should make you wait just for being an ass. But, since I have a reputation to uphold as the reasonable, benevolent one, I won’t.”
Gabriel’s eyebrow arched. “And here I was thinking your reputation was as the local antisocial giant with a questionable wardrobe.” He plucked at one of the fraying strings hanging from a hole in Miles’s jeans. “My mistake.”
Swatting his hand away, Miles bit back a laugh and dug through his backpack until he found his lunch. He shoved a baby orange into Gabriel’s hand.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Eat it. You can’t keep insulting me if your mouth is full, and I’d like to finish my story sometime today.”
He’d been joking, but Gabriel took it with a quirk of his lips. “Please, continue.”
“As I was saying, we talked and it went… surprisingly well.” Outside, a miserable-looking group started jogging around the track.
He couldn’t see her, but Miles knew Mrs. Ballenski, the PE teacher, had to be lurking nearby with her stopwatch.
“I told them the truth and they didn’t lose it.
I think they’re trying to be supportive. ”
Removing the orange peel in one long strip with deft fingers, Gabriel frowned. “Supportive of your potentially suicidal quest? I was under the impression that my mother was the questionable parent here.”
“Okay, I might’ve left that part out.”
“You just said you told them the truth.”
“Most of the truth, whatever. Omitting certain details to spare them from worrying is a necessary evil.”
Gabriel opened his mouth and Miles gave the orange a pointed look. Gabriel rolled his eyes but ate a segment, flicking his wrist for Miles to keep going. The fresh, citrus scent made his mouth water.
“The point is, we have one less thing to worry about now. My parents are officially in the know—mostly—and they’re on our side.”
“You must be relieved. You’ve been struggling with keeping this from them since the day we met.”
Relieved wasn’t a strong enough word. Miles could finally breathe again. “I didn’t need their approval to know I was doing the right thing, but it feels good to finally have it.”
“They should’ve supported you this whole time,” Gabriel sniffed, but Miles thought it was more a reflexive defense of him than actual ire towards his parents. It was sweet.
“They’re trying to be here for me now.” Miles chewed his lip. “And they finally told me what happened with your mom.”
He recounted the story, trying to remember every detail. Gabriel listened intently, half of his orange forgotten beside him.
“You act like you’re a lost cause, but I don’t think that’s true. As long as your”—Miles waved his hand around Gabriel—“dark cloud is still hanging around, I think you’re good. Which is a wild thing to say.”
Gabriel frowned. “We don’t know for sure that once the change happens, it can’t be undone. My mother could… revert back to her own self.”
“I mean, yeah, it’s possible. Change isn’t necessarily permanent.” But Miles had an awful sinking feeling when he thought back to Marjorie, how completely it had encased her. How unmovable it seemed.
“The person they described… there’s not even a hint of her in my mother.” The words were low, Gabriel’s gaze fixed on the window. Down the hall, a locker clanged. “She was so different, I can’t picture it. A smile on her face or affection in her voice.”
It had to hurt to hear what you’d always wished for had existed before you came along. That in another life, Felicity could’ve been a good mom, and Gabriel raised in a home that knew joy.
He was probably wondering if she’d ever been given a chance to love him.
Miles took his hand, giving him silence, but letting him know he wasn’t alone.
“She tried to escape,” Gabriel murmured. “And it didn’t matter.”
“I know.” That was the biggest tragedy of Felicity Hawthorne. Not that she’d been changed by this curse, but that she’d tried to run. She’d believed she could leave it behind.
“I couldn’t imagine facing this alone.”
Miles heard the words he didn’t say: thank you.
There wasn’t a clock in this part of the hallway, but when Miles saw the poor runners on the track start to head off towards the gym, he knew the bell would ring soon. He was out of time.
“There was one other thing.” Miles rubbed the back of his neck. “My mom invited you to dinner at our place tonight.”
Gabriel blinked. “Excuse me?”
Distant cheering sounded from the cafeteria, as if the whole school was celebrating the end of Miles’s procrastination.
“Yeah, like I said, they’re trying to be supportive. They want to meet you, and thought dinner was the right call. I told my mom we’re going to the game, but she just moved the time.”
“Dinner,” Gabriel echoed in disbelief.
“Lasagna, specifically. But don’t worry, you don’t have to come,” Miles reassured him. “I’ll tell her you’re busy, and I can meet you at the game after—”
“I’ll come.”
There it was. “It’s really no big deal,” Miles insisted quickly. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried. If it goes badly, at least I won’t be accused of being too cowardly to show up.” Gabriel shrugged, fiddling with a button on his cuff. Footsteps thudded over their heads as someone hurried down the stairs. “It’s not like they can hate me more than they already do.”
“Hey, no, that’s not—”
“You don’t have to lie to me.”
And to think, Miles had assumed only moments ago that the mood couldn’t possibly get any lower.
“Listen, my mom feels bad that she’s been unfair to you. She wants to get to know you because you’re important to me. That’s already earning you major brownie points.”
Surprise flared in Gabriel’s gray eyes. “Did you tell her that we’re dating?”
Miles knew his cheeks were turning red. “No. And not because I’m like, embarrassed of you or worried because you’re a Hawthorne or anything.” He stumbled over the words in his rush to get them out. “I swear it’s not that. I’m just… I haven’t told my parents I’m gay yet.”
He wasn’t sure why it sounded like an admission of weakness.
And he wished that being with Gabriel was the push he needed to do it, that it could give him the bravery to tell them despite his fears. He didn’t want Gabriel to feel like a dirty secret. It wasn’t fair to him.
“No. You can’t do it for me,” Gabriel stated firmly, reading his mind. “I don’t care about any of that. When you tell them, it needs to be because you’re ready. Do it for yourself.”
Miles wasn’t sure why that made his lower lip wobble. “And what if I’m never ready?”
“Then that’s your business. Your parents can think I’m an insufferably clingy friend for all I care.” He smirked. “But you’ll tell them eventually. And not simply because you’re a terrible, guilt-ridden liar. You’re also braver than you give yourself credit for.”
Miles wasn’t brave enough to lean over and kiss him where someone might see, which was a shame. He settled for clearing his tight throat and briefly pressing his lips to Gabriel’s knuckles. His face had to be disturbingly tomato-colored by now, but Gabriel didn’t tease him.
“I won’t come to dinner if you don’t want me to.
” His gaze was tender. They were still stumbling their way through what dating entailed, but the look on his face told Miles that he wasn’t at all opposed to hand kisses.
“Your family is willing to give me a chance. No one’s done that before.
But your opinion is the only one I care about. ”
He meant it. But he didn’t know Miles’s parents. And suddenly, Miles wanted him to. It felt unbearably important that he sat with people who listened to him when he spoke, treated him with kindness, and—if Miles knew his mom— made him eat too much lasagna.
He’d face his anxieties a thousand times over before telling Gabriel he wasn’t welcome in his home.
“I want you to.”