by C. L. Stone
“What?” he laughed, focusing on the game.
If I owed him a favor, it could be anything, and with Gabriel, he was too unpredictable. Cheating was going to be the only way to win.
I started nudging his arm with my elbow. He nudged back but kept ahead of me in the game. I moved from nudging to poking him in the ribs.
He laughed, letting go of the controller for a second to swat at my hands. When I kept poking, he caught my hand in his, causing both our cars to stop.
He held on to me, grinning. “What-the-fuck-ever. Who do you think I am? Victor? That little shit doesn’t work on me.”
He was challenging me to cheat better! I narrowed my eyes at him and pulled my hand back to start my car again, racing around his stalled car.
He caught up with me, too, but kept glancing over at me. I had a feeling he was waiting for my next move.
Using my hands wasn’t working. Letting go of the controller meant I had to stop racing. I wasn’t going to win that way. I tried to pretend I was focusing on the race, but at the same time, I slipped my sandals off my feet as if I didn’t want them.
When he managed to sideswipe my car to send it into a spin, I kicked at his controller until it was knocked out of his hands and fell to the floor.
“Fuck,” he said, and pushed at me hard enough that I landed on my side on the carpet as he scrambled for his controller.
I laughed, leaning over while propped up on my elbows. I toe-nudged him in the side and on his arm. When I was sprawled out on the floor, he could only reach my legs. Maybe sitting on the other side of the room was the way to win.
At first he tried resisting, but my nudging at him and being able to play at the same time meant I could get ahead of him. Soon I was zooming down the road, well out of his reach.
“Shit,” he grumbled, pushing my foot away. “Stop.”
“Nu uh,” I said. I poked him in the side with my toe as I aimed my car to collect speed bonuses before he could get there.
He lifted a hand up, bringing it down on my thigh with a slap. Even through the material of the jeans, it stung. “Trouble,” he called to me. “Watch it.”
“Now who’s cheating?” I said and stopped poking because I was already ahead.
“That’s not cheating,” he said.
“Oh?”
He laughed and reached a hand out, snatching my ankle and trapping me. I stretched out my controller away as far as I could so he couldn’t get to it as he held onto me. He crawled over me, positioning himself to sit on my hips and poked me in the stomach.
I squealed, slapping at his hands and wriggling under him. “No! I’ve almost won.”
“Not yet you haven’t,” he said, and he let go of his controller. He hooked his fingers at the hem of my shirt, and pulled it up just enough so he could trace his fingertips over my bare sides.
My lips split apart with a burst of giggles. I dropped the controller and then grabbed at his hands, hanging on. “No tickling!”
Gabriel’s crystal eyes lit up. He snatched up both of my wrists and hovered over me to pin them to the floor above my head. With his free hand, he traced my side. “What? Big, brave Sang Sorenson can’t stand her own tricks?”
I laughed until tears teased my eyelids. I wriggled hard against him. The cars in the game stilled. If he wasn’t going to win, neither of us was. “Stop,” I cried out. “I can’t breathe.”
He beamed then stopped tickling me but placed a palm against my bare side. When my laughing subsided, his face hovered inches from mine. His eyes traced over my face. My heart tripped over itself, and I struggled to breathe evenly.
“Gabriel,” I said softly. My mind was mush from laughing so hard and overwhelmed with him on top of me.
His smile warmed. “Sang.”
Was this too close now? I’d previously told Silas I’d be his girlfriend. Mr. Blackbourne said to get close to the others. How close would upset Silas? Did that mean I had to tell Gabriel to back off? I wished Silas had said something to the others to make it clear. If I wasn’t sure, they would know. My tongue glued to the top of my mouth. I was worried that telling Gabriel about Silas would hurt his feelings. I really liked Gabriel, too.
Gabriel leaned his head down, his lips found my ear. “You can’t look at me like that,” he said softly.
“Like what?” This had to be too close. He was kissing my ear. Silas wouldn’t like it. But then, Nathan kissed me, too, and I’d kissed North as well. Gabriel had once kissed my neck, but since then, he’d only kissed my cheek and now I was Silas’s girlfriend. Didn’t that make a difference? The conflicts inside me surfaced any time one of them got close or kissed me. I tried to let them guide the way, but it was hard not to consider their feelings.
“Looking all beautiful and terrified at the same time,” he whispered, his warm breath on my skin giving me goosebumps. His hands tightened around my wrists as he kept me pinned. His lips touched my lobe. “It’s those eyes. They drive me crazy.”
“Gabriel, I...”
“Trouble,” he whispered, his lips meeting my ear again. “Tell me to stop.”
I sucked in a breath, my spine tingling. Did he mean it? Why was he telling me to say no?
Why wasn’t I telling him?
He pulled back. His crystal eyes met mine. His hand at my side started gripping my hip. “Please,” he begged in a whisper.
I didn’t understand what he meant. He was begging me to tell him to stop? If he wanted to stop, he didn’t need me to tell him.
“Sang,” he said. His head dropped down, his lips met my cheek, kissing it. “You’re too good for me. You shouldn’t be here.” His lips traced across my cheek and he kissed my temple. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
I sucked in a deep breath. My eyes flittered to the ceiling, to the water stain in the corner. I had to tell him about Silas. This was too much. It’d be wrong to both him and Silas and they’d both be mad at me forever.
His kisses trailed over my cheek. I parted my lips to say something.
A woman’s voice shot through the silence. “Gabriel Joseph fucking Coleman! What the hell are you doing?”
Gabriel jumped, letting go of my wrists and backing up until he was sitting on top of my hips again, looking behind him. I propped myself up on my elbows.
A tall woman with bleached hair stood, staring at us from the kitchen. She wore tight shorts that barely covered her butt and a wrinkled halter-top that showed off her stomach. Her fingers were manicured with bold bright red polish. She was barefoot, bleary-eyed and shooting angry darts from her eyes at Gabriel. Then she turned to me and her eyes widened. “Holy shit. It’s a girl.” She dropped a hand over her heart, backing up a step.
Gabriel scrambled to his feet. “You scared the shit out of me, Pam.”
“I scared you? How do you think I feel? I walk in and you’ve got someone pinned to the floor like you’re gonna rape him.” She laughed, her eyes brightening. “Her. Sorry, sugar. All I saw were your feet.”
My cheeks were on fire. I stood up so I could better hide behind Gabriel. Amid my embarrassment and the chaos, I had a sudden lapse of memory. Who was this woman? His mother? They didn’t look much alike.
Then I remembered his mother was dead. This must be his stepmom.
“I wasn’t doing anything to her,” Gabriel said flatly.
“Is that why you had to pin her wrists to the floor? Haven’t I taught you better on how to treat a lady? You can’t hold them against their will.” She turned to me, her lips broadening her smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Really. I thought... well...don’t mind me.” She stepped closer, her eyes raking over my body. “But I can see why he did. Holy shit.” She looked me in the face again. “You are a girl, right? God, please say yes.”
“I am,” I said quietly. I hovered a finger over my lip, unsure of what to say.
“Pam, this is Sang Sorenson. Sang, this is my stepmom, Pam. And yes, she’s a fucking girl.”
“Thank the lord,” s
he said, and she stepped around Gabriel and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug. “Thank you, thank you.” She smelled heavily of cigarettes and perfume that got caught in my throat, but her hug felt genuine.
“Jesus H. Christ,” Gabriel breathed out, pressing a hand to his forehead.
Pam let go of me, spun around and landed a palm against his cheek. “Don’t you go taking the lord’s name in vain.”
I sucked in a quick breath and froze. Was he hurt? Did I need to call Mr. Blackbourne? What do I do? A flash of memory came through me of Nathan getting hit by his dad. I readied myself to tell him to run for it.
Gabriel reeled back and cupped his cheek. “Fucking shit, woman, stop hitting me.”
“Watch your backtalk,’ she said, waving a finger at his face. “And you can’t go sitting on top of her like that. You sit her nice on the couch. You don’t wrestle her into submission.”
“We were just playing a video game.”
“You don’t play games sitting on top of her.”
Gabriel shifted around Pam, grabbing my wrist. “We were done anyway.” He tugged me to have me follow across the living room. “Come on, Sang. Let’s get out of the way.”
“Sang, you make him buy you dinner first, ya hear?” she called out. “Make him treat you like a lady.” She headed toward the fridge, opening it and staring into the light.
Gabriel turned off the game, and grabbed my book bag, leading the way through the back hallway. He walked toward the very last door, throwing it open until it banged against the wall. He twisted, shoved me through the doorway, and closed it behind us. He threw the lock and slammed his palm against the wall. “God damn, didn’t think she’d be up so early.” He turned around, planting his back against the door. “Why in the world would Mr. Blackbourne bring you here?”
I stood on the worn carpet in his bedroom. I wanted to answer him, to tell him it was last minute and that Mr. Blackbourne was on his way to help Kota’s family, among other things. I wanted to start talking about the Academy and how I wanted to join and I needed to know if he’d support me. I wanted to tell him to call someone to come get me if he didn’t want me here.
Before I could speak, though, green caught my eye. My senses got confused for a minute, as it felt like we’d stepped outside. My eyes drifted from him, to the room around us.
There was a large dresser pressed up against one wall, and on top of it a collection of brushes, a large jewelry box, the front piece open to reveal dozens of different earrings, all crystals in different colors. There was a table against another wall, with one side covered in notebooks and folded clothes. On the other side was a collection of glass vials, some corked and some open and clean. Some had liquid in them in various colors.
All of the walls, nearly every inch, were covered in a painted mural depicting a forest grove. There was a doe hiding behind one of the trees, songbirds in the branches, and a calm pool, the shadows of fish under the surface.
So real. I wanted to reach out and touch the leaves, the water, the animals. I felt if I moved, I’d scare the birds. It was a quiet, serene world in his bedroom.
His twin-sized bed was pressed along to the wall, under three windows, bare and showing the real South Carolina forest outside. The windows faced East so morning light filtered in. The mural and the trees blended into one another, so the rest of the room look like it was set within the trees.
It was all perfect, except for one section of the room where the wall was white, where the mural was incomplete.
Gabriel dropped my book bag onto the floor by the dresser. “Will you stop gawking? Shit. Now I want to paint over it all.”
I spun on him. “Why in the world would you do that?” I didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but I was scared to death that he would.
“Because it doesn’t look right,” he said.
I gaped. “What do you mean it doesn’t look right?”
“It’s a bunch of trees. It’s boring. And I can’t figure out how I want to finish. There’s no centerpiece.” He pointed to the barren section of white wall. “It’s like the tenth mural I’ve done and I can never figure out what to put here.”
“What did you have in mind when you started?” I asked.
Ten murals? How much did he paint? No wonder he was so good at it.
Gabriel shoved his fingers through the blond locks in his hair. “Shit, I don’t know. I just start painting and the next thing I know, it’s almost done.”
“I like it,” I said quietly.
His cheeks tinted and he lifted his gaze to meet mine. “You do?”
I couldn’t believe he’d think it was terrible. I sought out flaws but found none, save that it was still incomplete. “I’m jealous. Do you think Nathan would want his room painted like this?” I didn’t want to ask Gabriel to do work, or impose on Nathan to paint his bedroom without asking him first. Still, I’d love a bedroom mural.
His lips twisted. “Don’t be a tease.”
“I’m not! I’d want a forest in my room. With birds and deer...”
“I can’t. Nathan wanted me to do his wall once, but Kota said I had to think of the resale value. I told him it was bullshit since we could paint over it, but he also said Nathan’s dad wouldn’t like it.” He lifted at his hand, brushing a fingertip over his eyebrow. “Maybe I could now that his dad is halfway around the globe, but Nathan would probably want a gross zombie.”
“Maybe we could ask?” Then I clamped my lips shut. I liked the idea of painting, but they were Nathan’s walls. Gabriel was right that Nathan might want a scary zombie. Then I’d never sleep.
He sat on the bed, leaning back on his hands and nudging his toe into the carpet. “It’s best I don’t. I’ll fuck it up and then you’d end up with a shitty mural.”
I sat down next to him on the bed. I studied the trees, the way the light worked through the real window and how it blended so well. “Your forest is perfect.”
“It’s not finished.”
“Not yet,” I said. “Paint a big tree. Or two. Remember the two big oak trees in the woods behind Kota’s house?”
“The one with all the nettle around it?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. That was pretty, wasn’t it?”
He sighed, gazing up at the unfinished area of the wall. “I don’t know. I might just start over.”
“You have to finish this one,” I said.
“It’ll look like shit.”
“You already think it looks bad,” I said. “Finish it anyway. Complete one. I want to see it.”
He grunted and nudged me in the shoulder with his. “Well I’m not doing it right now.”
I nudged him back. “What else are we going to do today?”
He smirked at me. “What? You want to paint?”
I perked up. This was better. I’d get to see Gabriel in action. I wanted to watch him paint a tree on paper and then I’d try to copy what he was doing. “Can we? Can you show me?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “This isn’t like painting nails, Trouble.” He slapped me on the thigh. “Speaking of which, I just figured out what I wanted to do.”
A PROMISE
An hour later, Gabriel had my hair washed, my nails trimmed and polished in a soft pink, and my toenails painted with pink flowers.
He fell back onto the carpet, throwing a closed bottle of polish across the room until it rolled under the dresser. “Fuck, I don’t want to get a job painting nails. I’m done with doing just yours.”
I fell onto the carpet next to him, gazing up at the ceiling. The trees continued up, and it looked like we were on the ground, gazing up into the morning sky. “Adam wanted you to work at the spa with him.”
“Fuck the spa. He just wants to steal my good taste, because he can’t do shit with hair.”
“I liked the massage,” I said.
Gabriel’s face lit up. “Oh yeah, the massages. We need to go do that one day.”
I turned my head so I could look at
him. He had such amazing angles to his face, and with the blond locks that blended into the russet brown, he looked really striking.
He breathed in deeply, and held it so long I thought he might pass out. In a burst, he let it go.
“Gabriel?”
“Yeah?”
I rolled onto my side, looking at him with my head propped on my hand. I needed to ask. The thought had been bugging me since I’d arrived. Gabriel’s home was completely different than what I had pictured. “What happened to your mom? How did you end up with Pam?”
There was a tiny wince in his eyes. “You want to talk about that now?”
“Sorry,” I said quietly.
“No,” he said. He pressed a palm to his face, rubbing at his eyes. “No, I shouldn’t have said that.” He moved closer on the carpet until he was facing me, leaving only a couple of inches between us.
I was the one holding my breath now, afraid to say anything and giving him room to say whatever he wanted. I didn’t mean to make it a deep discussion. I was curious since Pam was his stepmom. That meant his dad died at a time different than his real mom. I just didn’t know how.
He put his hand on the floor, and started making circles in the carpet with a fingertip. He watched his finger as he talked. “My real mom…she died,” he said. “Years ago. Her...and my baby brother.”
My eyes widened.
He swallowed and continued circling with his finger, his eyes still lowered. “I was at home alone, really too young to stay by myself, but they left me behind anyway. My dad was driving...” His lips tightened and he spoke through his teeth a little. “Fucker was drunk. Driving too fast. Smashed into a car. The other people made it out fine, but...”
No wonder he never said anything. I reached out, wanting to connect with him. I placed my hand over his, stilling his fingers, squeezing him. “Sorry,” I said quietly, unsure how to express what I was thinking. Sorry it ever happened. Sorry I made you talk about it.
He turned his hand over, squeezing mine, and continued to look at our joined hands. “He survived. Just a few scrapes. After they died, he started drinking more,” he said. “Used to beat the shit out of me, too. Said it was my fault. Said I should have been in the car, then I could have died instead of them. I tried hiding his booze when I could, thinking if he wasn’t drinking, he’d stop. Usually it just made it worse.”
