Unwritten

by Alex Rosa

  My vision scatters in search of either my friends or that face that I still can’t believe I’m about to spend the evening with. And for once, I don’t mean Caiden.

  I don’t know how it happens, because how can I spot Gabe first when I barely know him? But I do. He’s got a beer clutched to his broad chest as he talks excitedly to a person of equal stature next to the fire. Must be an old friend. There are lots of those around here.

  I pull in a deep breath, finding comfort in the burning wood smell as I stare.

  Gosh, he’s handsome. His t-shirt stretches over his chest and ripples with every chuckle or movement, each line more defined with the shadows from the fire. His baby face is long gone, like many of the men I’ve known in this town.

  I nervously tug down the edges of my dress again. Knowing now who he is, I feel the same nerves I might have felt in high school, which is downright ridiculous.

  I’m not a hormonal teen any longer who’d run in the opposite direction if the quarterback of the football team glanced at her.

  That is, until he catches me staring, and I’m ready to do the exact thing I said I wouldn’t.

  I remember Gabe from high school, and I hated how stereotypical he was even then. I might have written about it in my journal when I watched him cavorting with the cheerleaders.

  I might have even written about how I wondered why it wasn’t boring being him/them. Because, wouldn’t it be? To know you’re a parody of yourself, and when you watch those old John Hughes movies, that their story has already been told so many times to the point of annoyance? Maybe not. Maybe when you’re in the cool kid group, life is just good, and you really have no understanding how the other half lives. That being me. I wasn’t the biggest outsider, but I remember feeling like it. Maybe it’s because I never truly felt like I fit in, even with all my friends who proudly flaunted their attendance in the extracurricular.

  Of course, I attended every homecoming game, and even every party, but the people never fit. Boys like Gabe made out with girls openly at parties and shot-gunned beers in the living room with an audience.

  I, on the other hand, begged Caiden to get into trouble with me elsewhere, pulling him from the parties to somewhere private, away from the crowds and popularity contests. Of course, he never minded. I liked my own type of mischief, and if it involved Caiden, I didn’t care what we got ourselves into.

  “Hey, Hailey.”

  I smile reflexively at the sound of my name, realizing that my nostalgic reminiscing has distracted me and Gabe is now standing in front of me, smiling openly, his smooth-shaven skin putting his mouth on full display.

  “Gabe, hi.”

  “You look… great.” He grins, scratching the back of his head nervously as he says it, and I laugh.

  “Thanks.” I force my hands to release the hem of my dress and try to embrace who I am. Which is an adult woman, who this good-looking guy seems to be interested in. God help him.

  “Let me go grab you a drink. You like beer?”

  He’s still smiling, and I can’t tell if my cheeks are flushed with heat because of the raging fire only fifty feet away, or because I’m that giddy girl I desperately don’t want to be.

  “Beer sounds great.”

  “Perfect. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  He winks before departing, and I’m most definitely a dopey mess over it as he turns around. Goddammit, I need to get a grip.

  “Baby bird, I had higher hopes for you.”

  I swivel around to see Brandon finishing off his own bottle of beer.

  Raising a brow and placing a hand on my hip, I retort, “I’d prefer you not spy on me. Plus, Gabe’s nice.”

  He laughs very obviously at me. “Whatever. I just hate that dumb look on your face when he talks to you. I wish things were different, ya know?”

  Well, I wish I could throw a fit. I want to. Only because I know what he means, and like an idiot I ask, “Where’s Caiden?”

  He grins like he just won a game I didn’t know we were playing, and I have the urge to punch him.

  “Oh, he’s around.” I don’t like the way his lips toy with his words, continuing this game at my expense, all of it containing hidden meanings. “I don’t like you in that dress either, especially not around Samuels.”

  I roll my eyes, and I’m ready to playfully insult him, but Gabe appears. His eyes collide with Brandon’s before they make it to mine, and Gabe’s smile isn’t as confident as before as he says, “Here you go, Hailey.”

  I lift one hand to touch his elbow while grabbing the drink with the other. It’s a deliberate flirtatious move that doesn’t go unnoticed as Gabe cements his grin, regaining the confidence he lost track of only seconds ago.

  “Whatever,” Brandon whispers before turning to me to say, “I’m trying to find CeeCee. She’s pissed at me again, and hell if I know why. I can’t seem to do anything right.” He pauses, his eyes darting between Gabe and me, and I can tell he thinks he’s talking too much. “Anyway, I gotta go find her.”

  Gabe clears his throat. “Um, I saw her near the drinks. She might have been talking to John Walden.”

  Brandon’s face shifts into brute anger, but for once, not at his archnemesis as he grumbles, “Sonuva—if she wants to play that game, fine.” He’s about to stomp off in the opposite direction, but his heated stare shakily makes it back to Gabe as he reluctantly huffs, “Thanks,” before leaving.

  Once he’s out of earshot, Gabe releases a long huff before saying, “You think he’s forgiven me yet?”

  I laugh an honest to goodness laugh, bringing the bottle to my lips, loving that the tension between my friends and him, and the reasons why, are not hidden away, but instead blasted for comedic relief.

  “Doubtful, but I appreciate the effort.”

  He nudges his chin behind him. “Let’s go hang out over there.”

  I nod, then take a large gulp as I begin my strides through the fairly crowded party. Gabe’s hand comes to the small of my back, lightly leading me. His touch makes me nervous and excited, but also feels forbidden at the same time. I make a mental note to catalog these feelings later in my notebook.

  We weave through the crowd, the crackling fire mixing with the bass beats coming from the speakers.

  This party reminds me of all of those others I used to attend when I was younger. Especially when I nod a few hellos as we walk by people, and when they glance to see who’s next to me, their looks of confusion afterward have me wanting to laugh hysterically—out of madness. Gossip still has a deep vein here.

  We stop on the opposite side of the fire, on the side of the party closest to the lakeshore. I know the shore to be a few hundred feet through the thick forest.

  So many memories.

  Gabe picks a spot next to a large pine tree, the trunk ginormously thick. He takes his own long pull of beer as he leans his shoulder against the tree. He’s just staring with this funny crook to his lips.

  “Gabe… you’re freaking me out,” I joke, staring back.

  He laughs, “Sorry. I thought I would talk too much once I got to spend time with you, but the truth of the matter is, you scare the shit out of me.”

  I laugh again, and his own tangles around mine.

  “Well, I really like your opener, Gabe. It’s a real attention grabber. ‘Girl invites guy to party, and guy admits he’s terrified of girl.’ I think you’ve got the beginning of your first novel, or your next eclectic exposé on dating in the modern world.”

  He laughs hard, snorting a bit while trying to contain his burly chuckles, and it feels like such a win.

  I don’t know what’s come over me and where this confidence comes from. If I could be so bold with the over-dissection of my psyche, I’d say I get some sick pleasure knowing that the most popular guy back in high school can’t stop staring at me. That can surely make any awkward girl feel a little more on her game.

  “Have I told you how much I like you?” he says, smiling, but his mouth slams shu
t. He’s embarrassed, but he doesn’t seem to regret saying it.

  I take a slow sip of my beer this time, eyeing him curiously until I’m done. He has me hopeful for the night.

  “No, you actually haven’t told me that at all. Did you have a crush on me in high school? You can say no.”

  To hide my own bubbling, bold nerves, I take another sip. He rubs at his jaw as he lets his eyes caress every surface of my exposed skin before letting out a soft chuckle. “Um, maybe some of junior year, but I definitely did senior year. Have you always known that I did?”

  I gulp, taking a step closer to him, liking that he’s on the defensive. “Actually, someone told me just recently.”

  “Which somebody is that?” he hums.

  “Haileyyy…”

  My heart leaps into my throat as my eyes lock apologetically onto Gabe’s, knowing exactly who’s crashing my fun so soon by the rumbling voice coming from behind me.

  “That somebody,” I reply crisply before swiveling around to see Caiden, hands stuffed in his pockets, grinning like an idiot, but he isn’t alone. He has an accomplice. Cameron is smugly at his side, and it becomes obvious that they know exactly what they’re doing, or about to do, at least. The bastards.

  Gabe’s abrupt chuckle catches me off guard as he says, “Oh, well that makes sense now.”

  And I can’t help my own string of laughter, too, and I enjoy Caiden’s look of confusion in response even more so.

  “We were just talking about you,” Gabe says, not missing a beat before taking a sip of his beer.

  The tension rises a level as I watch the two men eye each other. It feels so silly, but I stay quiet, watching it unfold.

  “It’s been a while, Gabe. What brings you back to PineCrest?” Caiden asks, and I don’t trust him one bit.

  This is when my eyes dart to Gabe’s. Unfortunately, I’m eager for the same information.

  “Ah, well, my sister starts college soon. She got into NYU, so I thought I’d road trip it with her to New York. Ya know, since I live there.”

  I smile. That’s kind of adorable.

  Gabe catches my look and smiles back, but adds apologetically, “I was actually hoping to stay a while, but it turns out she has to be there earlier than we thought. So I’m leaving in a few days.”

  My smile falters. A few days?

  Is it weird that not only am I disappointed by the fact that Gabe is only here for such a short amount of time, but I’m also suddenly more jealous that he knows his end date?

  When am I leaving town? How long can I stay?

  “New York is so far from California,” rolls off the tongue of the infuriating man to my left.

  I visibly roll my eyes, knowing Caiden’s going in for the kill so quickly.

  My mouth finally chooses to function. “But we can totally keep in touch. I mean, if you want,” I fumble, adding a shrug.

  “That’d be cool,” Gabe responds, and I feel victorious.

  My blood starts coursing through my veins with a little pop of adrenaline, and with an odd sense of exhilaration with this battle I’m knowingly participating in.

  Cameron stays rigid and silent at Caiden’s side, apparently only here to provide moral support to said douchebaggery shenanigans that are ensuing. Boys are so dumb.

  “I don’t know many writers,” I add. “Writing is this sort of solitary universe.”

  Gabe laughs, “It’s true.”

  Caiden reappears as he says, “That’s right Gabe, you’re a reporter, right?” I can’t tell if his tone is condescending, but it’s the corner of his mouth that lifts upward when he speaks that gets me so riled up. It starts a tornado ripping around inside me, as love and hate twist around each other, making it hard to choose how to feel. “Have you read Hailey’s book?”

  I’m tempted to look at my phone for the time, just to clock him on how long it took him to go in for the win so ruthlessly.

  Gabe shrugs, eying me carefully before he says, “No, but it’s at the top of my to-be-read list.”

  It’s a perfectly acceptable answer that I would actually prefer, and I smile. “You don’t have to read my book. Seriously.”

  Both men laugh, but stop abruptly at the sound of each other, which then dominos into my own odd burst of laughter. It’s obvious that each are laughing for very different reasons, and I find the fact that only I know, hilarious.

  I try shaking the moment off, but Gabe is quick to capitalize on it, noticing my nearly empty bottle before he asks, “You want another drink?”

  Yeah, I could use some air too, I think.

  “Yes, please.”

  He grins, turns, and strolls away. I release a long breath, letting my shoulders slump, not realizing how exhausting that just was. Regardless, I huff out a laugh as I turn toward Caiden, and shake my head. Cameron, the silent accomplice, scurries away as if he’s done his job.

  I lift my eyes across the party, through the flames to a truck parked on the other side with drinks and watch Gabe sifting through an ice chest.

  I bring my sardonic glare around to face Caiden again, taking notice of his twitching smirk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He shrugs, dragging his teeth across his bottom lip before speaking. “Just being a friend.”

  Raising a suspicious brow, I finish off the rest of my beer before I reply, using it as an excuse to admire the glow of the bonfire in his eyes. “We need to work on your definition of friend.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because you’re kind of being an asshole.”

  He laughs, and I hate that I love it. I shake my head again. This is not how this is supposed to go. I need to hate this stupid animalistic display of jealousy.

  His smile turns into a dopey one. His boldness might be due to some solid amounts of consumed-liquid courage.

  “You’re drunk, go away,” I test playfully.

  He shakes his head but doesn’t deny it. “I’m not drunk enough, really.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, and the giggle that emerges from me is an accident, and I cough to hide it.

  “Did you really just come over here to be an ass?”

  He shrugs, not fighting it anymore. “He’s so into you,” he mumbles, and I realize he must have drunk a lot, because he’s letting his words out too loosely. He wouldn’t normally be this verbose when it comes to the me topic. Not now, anyway.

  “You think so?” I hum, shamelessly taking advantage of it.

  He nods, clenching his jaw. Our eyes shoot across the party to spot Gabe still busying himself with a drink.

  “Unfortunately,” he replies too quietly. Caiden’s eyes are back on me as he asks, “You like him?”

  I shrug. He grunts. I roll my eyes.

  It’s our cycle.

  I hear a rumbling from across the party, and I can already tell it’s Brandon probably getting a little too rowdy.