Gabriel

by C. L. Stone

  “Do you have chores?” Gabriel asked. Seemed a normal thing. Have to do the work before you could go out.

  Only Sang shook her head. “I don’t know what will happen to her,” she said.

  Creepy. Wait, does that means she’s next getting her throat burned?

  Victor clenched his fists and left the window, dropping hard onto the bed only to glare up at the ceiling again. “I don’t like this.”

  Kota and Nathan pulled back from the window while Sang stayed to watch.

  Kota threw Nathan and then Gabriel a silent look. Help me out here.

  Gabriel was in favor of just going over to peek in the windows, see what happened to the sister. Someone should.

  “It’s her way of keeping control,” Sang said in a small, scared voice.

  Her voice was cracking, and she was visibly shaking.

  Shit. His heart melted instantly, wanting to scoop her up. She starts crying, they were all done for. She wouldn’t leave here until they were sure she was safe to go back.

  He had to do something, to get someone to go check on the sister while she was preoccupied so she wouldn’t sit here worrying.

  Or just see what they could do. It could appear a little creepy to have people you don’t know poking around your house, but it’d only take a few minutes.

  He came up with an idea. He needed Sang to get comfortable with him, anyway. He swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. She could reject this, but he had to give it a shot. No one else seemed to know what to do.

  Gabriel went to the bed, nudging Victor’s legs a bit so he could sit. He bent over to pat the floor a couple of times. “Come here,” he said to Sang. “Your hair is bugging me. Kota, do you have a brush?”

  Kota jumped up to go into the bathroom and quickly returned with a hairbrush. A blue one, must have been Luke’s. For his hair type, it was a better choice than the combs the others often used. It’d work for her.

  Kota threw it over and Gabriel caught it. Sang hadn’t moved, and he gestured to her to come over. “Come on,” he said.

  She slowly moved to sit at his feet. There was a clip tangled into her hair. She wore hers out of her face. Gabriel wondered if he’d end up doing the same thing once his was longer. Luke did it a lot. Maybe it was a thing. He didn’t see the point sometimes. Why bother to grow it out only to wear it up?

  Her hair was all over the place, more wet than he realized. “And what do you call this look? Wet shag?” He touched it, going through the locks of hair with his fingers, trying as gently as he could to straighten it out. It’d hurt a lot more trying to brush it otherwise.

  A toe wedged into his ribs at his back. “Leave her alone,” Victor said.

  “Hey, I’m fixing it,” Gabriel said. They wanted her to hang out with them, get comfortable, this was a good way to start. Not staring at each other all mopey. He shook out her hair a bit and then started at the ends, trying to comb with his fingers at first. That gave him an idea. “I’m going to detangle it, but we’re going to wash it out and then dry it.”

  She didn’t say anything, looking at Kota. Gabriel couldn’t see her expression. He also still couldn’t really picture the color of her hair. There were sections that were blond and some that were dark and some strands appeared almost red. Had to be natural. He was pretty sure no one could color their hair this way.

  “It’s my fault,” Nathan said. “I pushed her into the pool.”

  He almost snorted as he looked up at him, shocked. They were telling him to go easy on her, and Nathan’s fucking pushing her into the goddamn pool.

  “What happened?” Kota asked.

  Nathan went into a long-ass explanation about what happened that morning, something about a tree and swimming. Gabriel only half listened. His fingers were combing through her hair and when he could use the brush, he tried to be as gentle as possible.

  He’d done similar things doing part time helper stuff at Pam’s work. Off the books, but the tips were okay.

  The more he worked at her hair, the more he felt self-conscious of his own looks around her. He didn’t want to feel that way, but compared to the others, he was a poor scamp and girls weren’t exactly throwing themselves at him for attention. Forget it if Victor was in the room. But she wasn’t really looking at him. Maybe she was more into Nathan. She seemed to have spent a bit of time with him.

  Probably the wrong time to be thinking about it. He couldn’t forget that her throat was burned. Treat her nice. See what’s going on.

  It was hard not to think about it. He didn’t want to romanticize the idea of saving her, but at some instinctive urge, he wanted to protect her from whatever she was going through, get her safe.

  He smoothed a hand down over her hair. When it wasn’t too brushed out, it tended to curl a little. He lifted a strand close to his face to try to get a better look. “Your color is amazing,” he said. “How is it so many different colors?”

  There was a pause. “It’s like a dirty blonde or something,” she said.

  “Or something is right,” he said. “There’s a little red in there. Various shades of blonde. It’s crazy.” He nudged her in the shoulder. “Let’s go wash it. I want to blow-dry it and see how it looks.” He threw the others a look. Better take advantage of this while I preoccupy her.

  She stood up and Gabriel hurried to get up, taking her by the arm and guiding her to Kota’s tiny en suite bathroom.

  Maybe they should have done this at Nathan’s house. How were they going to explain to Kota’s mom, or even Jessica, why there was a girl up here? Would she freak out? They never had another girl up here like this.

  Once they were alone in the bathroom and he’d shut the door, he could hear quiet footsteps. Someone was heading down the stairs. Hopefully Sang couldn’t hear it.

  In case they all left, he locked the door. Jessica or someone else didn’t need to be barging in on them.

  Would Sang think this weird? He didn’t want to freak her out. She’d been through enough. It was clear on her face that she was nervous—around them, around him, maybe worried about getting caught. He couldn’t imagine her mother being happy to learn she’s locked in a bathroom with some scamp boy who wanted to wash her hair.

  He moved to the shower, picking up the shampoo and conditioner Kota used for his hair—thick, occasionally dry strands. His shampoo had way more moisture. She had thinner hair, and the health of it was hard to determine just yet. “These aren’t ideal for you,” he said to her, “but it’s what we have right now.” He waved to the sink and without thinking, patted her on the hip. “Let’s get to work.”

  He made a quick mental fix, realizing this wasn’t the guys and he couldn’t just pat her on the ass to get her to move where he needed her to.

  But he was supposed to treat her like anyone else, right? Or was he supposed to be gentler? What the hell was he supposed to do?

  She blushed a bit, but she did that a lot so it was hard to tell what she was thinking. She moved to the sink.

  He went to it and turned the faucet on, letting both hot and cold run. The water splattered into the basin, and he stuck his hand into the stream. “Tell me when you think it’s okay.”

  She reached in, waited. After a couple of minutes, she indicated it was fine.

  No adjustments? She seemed okay with where it was. “Get in there,” he said.

  Voices started up on the other side of the door.

  They did send someone out, right? That sister of hers might be in trouble, too. Or maybe someone was on the phone monitoring from the bedroom. Hard to tell. He grimaced, but she stuck her head down, bending over to get close to the water. Hopefully they’d hurry. Washing hair didn’t take a whole lot of time to do.

  Gabriel adjusted her so he could direct the water over her head. He wished he could do this properly, with her in a shampoo chair. He was practically on top of her, bending over her to wash her hair here.

  He had to talk over the guys in the other room or she was going to listen. They didn’
t need to freak her out overhearing them going to check things out. What to talk to her about? He started rambling, like he learned to do at the salon.

  “You’re going to our school, aren’t you?” he asked. He re-combed her hair with his fingers, taking a very long time massaging at her scalp, working shampoo into her head. The act of touching her hair, he tried to make it professional, like he did at the salon, but he couldn’t help but be nervous, trying to be gentle for her.

  “Yes,” she said, again raspy. Maybe he shouldn’t make her talk with her throat all burned. Only he didn’t want her to feel awkward in silence the whole time. What else could they talk about? She was his age, wasn’t she? It seemed like it. Or maybe fourteen?

  “We’ll be in the same grade,” he said, making the assumption. “Going to sign up for art class?”

  She did a laugh. Her throat couldn’t be in too bad a shape if she could do that. “I can’t draw,” she said.

  “Neither can I,” he said. He drew regularly, amid other things, but he was far from good at any of it. Or at least he felt he wasn’t good yet. Nothing he drew was ever exactly as how he pictured it in his head. He moved behind her to reach a bit easier. “I hear you just show up and play with paint. There’s not much to it.”

  “So you want an easy grade?” she asked.

  “They don’t offer the classes I want to take.” There weren’t even advanced art classes or else he’d try. He might not be good, but from what he learned about art teachers in high school, it was generally just no instruction, just trying out different techniques to keep kids occupied for an hour.

  “What do you want to take?” she asked, her tone a bit curious.

  This was different. Casual conversation but just the way she asked, it made him feel she was genuinely curious about him.

  He gently touched her head to redirect it under the water to rinse the shampoo. Cupping water with his hands, he aimed the water flow over her hair in different ways. “I wouldn’t mind learning bass. I already play guitar. There’s one class at... um... another school.” Someone else in the Academy could teach him. Generally, there was someone within the network that anything you wanted to learn, they could find someone to show you how.

  But her hair started to distract him a little. Loose curls formed rather easily. He twisted one around his finger. Could it air dry and still be this curled?

  “Another school?” she asked.

  Oh yeah, what was he saying? Something about the Academy? His heart raced, a little embarrassed he was so entranced with her hair that he wasn’t following the conversation. “Just one of the private schools.”

  “Are you considering going to the private school next year?”

  She really was asking a lot of questions. She wasn’t too shy, at least once she was comfortable with you. Most girls he knew, usually they wanted to talk about whatever they were interested in. She asked questions. He liked that.

  He checked his phone quickly, hoping for an update while she was preoccupied. He sent a quick message.

  Gabriel: Someone go over and check on the sister?

  Quick reply.

  Kota: Nathan. Keep her in there longer.

  Sure. He still had to condition. That’d take a minute.

  He squeezed out some conditioner from the bottle and lathered up between his fingers. What did she say? Private school next year? “Might.”

  “Is there a requirement to get in?”

  He combed his fingers through her hair, this time trying to get every last strand coated in the conditioner so it can do the job it was meant to. “There’s always a requirement for a private school, sweetie.”

  “So it means you won’t be going to my school if you go to the private one,” she said, more a statement than a question. And was that disappointment in her tone?

  The idea of that confused him. She talked like she wanted him to go to her school. With her. Was she serious? What about the others out there? Victor? What did she think of him? “Maybe,” he said. “Victor’s so mean, isn’t he? Did you see him kick me? I was trying to be nice and fix your hair and he’s kicking me.” Not to throw Victor under the bus, but he had to know what she was thinking.

  “He’s not so bad,” she said.

  The way she said things drove him crazy, saying stuff but not being clear about how she really felt. That wasn’t exactly an outstanding review. Not so bad. He almost laughed at the comment. No ‘oh, he’s cute’ or questions about his wealth or status? Did she even know who he was?

  Well, she was new around here. Maybe she had no idea. “No, he isn’t bad. He’s just a pain in the ass, sometimes.” He finished lathering up and started rinsing her hair. With one hand he checked his phone. No response still. How long did he need to keep her preoccupied? Should he break out the scissors?

  When he’d gently squeezed out the last of the water he could from her hair, he left her to find a towel out of the closet and held it, ready for her. She took it, wrapping her hair in it.

  He could blow-dry it. That’d take time. He ducked down, looking under the sink. There had to be one under there somewhere. He put it in there a while back. Luke stopped using it a while ago, not wanting to take the time. Victor occasionally used it. Blue bins were piled up under the sink. They were organized, but with so many of them that stopped by, there were a lot of them. He had to pull some out just to get to the ones near the back.

  “So how do you know everyone?” she asked while he was looking.

  “Huh?” he said, finding the old brown dryer and brought it out.

  She made a soft noise with her throat and then tried again, a bit louder. “I mean, how did you meet Kota? And Victor? When did you all become friends?”

  She had a thoughtful, curious nature. He was enjoying being asked questions instead of doing all the asking of girls, trying to show interest in what they did, only to end up talking about them all night and them never asking about him. He shoved the blue bins together again under the sink and got up to plug in the dryer He snapped his fingers and pointed at the closed toilet seat to indicate to her to sit there.

  Then realized he just snapped at her like he did the guys. Ugh.

  She didn’t seem to give it a second thought, though. She sat and he stood over her, focusing on her hair. He combed through it with his fingers, eager to see it when it was completely dry and washed. He turned the dryer on to get started but talked over it. “I met them all in kindergarten,” he said. “We went to the same elementary school. Everyone but Silas and North.”

  “Who’s North?”

  Hadn’t met him yet, hm? “Another one of the guys,” he said. “There’s me, Kota, Victor, Nathan, Silas, North and Luke.” Should he mention the doc? Mr. Blackbourne? Would she meet them? It already sounded like a big group.

  “Who’s Luke?” she asked.

  “North’s brother.” He grimaced. Okay, this was probably hard to explain. He’s throwing out all these names and she’s probably not been told about them. He reached for the brush, using the dryer close to her hair and the brush to smooth through the strands. “You see, everyone except North and Silas grew up together. Silas didn’t move here until maybe when we were ten. North came about a year later.”

  “Where was North?”

  “He was living with his dad in Europe,” he said, realizing this was probably confusing as all hell. Luke’s brother living in Europe, never saw him until they were older... “They live with their uncle now.”

  “Do they stop by here often?”

  “You’ll see them sometime,” he said. If she stuck around long enough. But in this neighborhood, with her living so close, it wouldn’t be long before she met everyone. Especially if she came over like this.

  Especially if they could get her away from her house and crazy-ass parents who burn her throat.

  Anger stirred up in him. Who would do that to her? She was timid, polite, seemed sweet. Not that anyone deserved it, but what monsters think to burn a throat like that?

&
nbsp; He absently curled his fingers through her hair while he continued to blow-dry, and then used the brush to do the same thing. He was trying to get the curls to stay even though he was drying it out like this. A little more volume might make it look nice.

  She got quiet, too. He didn’t hear anyone talking any more. The longer he went without saying anything, the less he was sure what to talk about next. He wanted to ask about her parents. He wanted to ask about other things, too. What was she really like? What things did she like? Favorite color?

  Even when he’d been in the middle of his dad getting drunk after his mother and brother died, Gabriel would have been happy to have a connection with someone. He had the guys, sure, but lately he wouldn’t have minded a girlfriend to escape with sometimes. He wondered if she thought about that... Someone special to kiss on and feel loved by.

  Would she be offended if he flirted with her a little? If she got nasty attention at home, maybe some genuine good attention would make her feel more confident.

  And who could blame him for doing so? He was interested.

  When her hair was as dry as it could be, he turned the dryer off and put it and the brush on the counter. He combed through her hair again with his fingers. Her hair was layer after layer of various colors, some strands mixed so well together, it was crazy. “Your hair is soft. I was right about the color, too. It’s chameleon.”

  “Huh?”

  “Changes color depending on the light.” He had to see this properly. Didn’t she even know what her own hair was like? He put the brush back in a drawer and then tossed the blow-dryer under the sink. With a couple of fingers, he motioned for her to stand with him near the sink. “Come here, step in front of me.”

  She positioned herself again at the sink, this time more focused on the mirror. He got behind her. He could look at her face from over the top of her head. He did the thing Pam did after she cut hair, fluffing it out a bit, trying to give it that look of some more volume and showing how smooth the strands were now. Combing it with his fingers felt good, and he could tell she’d never really colored it, never used styling tools. It needed a bit more moisture, maybe some oils. He tried curling the hair around his fingers but they fell loose again.