Breaking Ties (4 page)

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Authors: Tracie Puckett

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance

BOOK: Breaking Ties
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I couldn’t stand for that.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“I’d love to meet you at the park on Saturday,” I said, pushing all thoughts of Dad aside. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and if he
did
happen to find out … well, I’d cross that bridge when we got to it.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I bit my lip. I didn’t expect his surprise, but there was genuine shock in his stare. He had to have known that I’d read his note the moment we parted ways. If Gabe knew anything at all, he knew how I felt about him. I hadn’t been the least bit reserved about expressing those feelings.
Of course
I would want to meet him at the park—before sunrise, after sunrise, with pizza, or without it. I didn’t care. I wanted to spend time with him. I wanted our love story to begin.

“Great, yeah,” he nodded, standing tall again. “So then … I’ll see you in a couple of days?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” I tried to play it cool, because one of us had to, and God knew it wasn’t going to be him. I loved that. I loved that I seemed to be the one person, the one thing, that could trip him up and make him lose his composure. “See you then.”

I walked by him, cool in my stride as I made my way to the edge of the parking lot and to my car. I felt his eyes glued to my body the entire time I moved. I reached the driver’s door of the car and turned back, only to have my suspicion confirmed. There he was, all the way back where I’d left him, watching me.

And then that goofy smile formed on his lips and contagiously found its way to mine, and there
I
stood, smiling like an idiot. My shoulders slumped as I watched him, my bag falling down my arm and landing at my feet. I swallowed a sigh as I watched him stand there, not wanting me to leave any more than I wanted to leave. But I had to go. The project wasn’t mine to worry about anymore, and I’d already done my part for the paper. Gabe should’ve been inside helping the team, not out there watching me leave. But neither of us seemed to care; I know I didn’t.

I left my bag on the ground, where it had fallen, and jogged around the car, all the way up the parking lot, and back to the front of the church, where he stood.

“Forget something?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded as I stopped short in front of him, wrapping my arms around him in a rib-crushing hug, squeezing him as tightly as little Amanda had held him earlier. I buried my face in his shoulder, smiling as I felt his head fall forward and rest on mine. He pressed a warm kiss to my hair, and then his hold loosened, and I mustered just enough willpower to pull myself back.

“I’ll see you Saturday, Gabe,” I whispered, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. And then it drifted lower, and I traced his lips with my eyes, watching the way they twisted into a beautiful curve. I perched myself on my toes, stretching up as tall as I could, to press a small kiss at the corner of that perfect smile, barely brushing his lips.

I didn’t wait for a reaction; I backed away, finally pulling us apart. I started back to the car, moving a lot faster than I’d moved the first time I headed that way. I reached the car again, swept my bag off the ground, and looked to see him one last time before I left. He stood there, firmly in place, touching the tiny place on his lip where I’d kissed him.

I abandoned my impulse to run back to him again, to fall into his arms, and let him kiss me—
really
kiss me—because that tiny peck wasn’t nearly enough. But I knew that the right time would come.
Saturday
. I was confident of that much. And the moment would be perfect, because there was no doubt in my mind that Gabe wanted it as badly as I did.

So I summoned every last ounce of strength I had to open that car door, slide inside, and drive away from Gabriel Raddick.

It was the hardest thing I ever had to do.

 

 

Chapter Four

“Well?”

“It looks good,” Georgia said, reading over my shoulder. I sat typing on the single computer in the newsroom, taking up the spot at her desk where she normally sat. Getting the articles out on RI were top priority as we entered the final week of the program, so Georgia let me take over the newsroom in any way that I needed to. “This is a wonderful interview you got with Haley Goodwin. Great human interest.”

“Isn’t it?” I agreed, but my fingers never left the keyboard. I kept focusing on the story.

I could feel Georgia’s stare tickling the back of my neck, and even though I sensed that it was supposed to be a hint that she wanted something, I didn’t give her the attention she demanded.

“Okay, you know you’re going to have to spill the beans sooner or later, don’t you?” she asked.

“Spill the beans about what?” I kept typing. I was certain she’d probably heard about (or witnessed firsthand) my sister’s terrible attitude, and as much as everyone was eager to figure out what was going on with Bailey, I did
not
want to go there. There were more important things to focus on.

“Gabe,” she prompted. “What happened when you guys left here on Wednesday? I expected a phone call, a text, or something, but I never heard from you. What happened?”

Oh. Right.

I should’ve called her, especially since she was the one who’d practically forced us to leave the school together. She’d run into Gabe in the hallway, asked him to swing by the newsroom for a quick interview, and then I turned the corner to find him sitting across from her at the desk. Georgia conveniently tied up her interview at that moment, leaving me alone with Gabe as we exited the school.

I worked all of Wednesday evening, and by the time I got to school yesterday, I was too frustrated by Bailey’s moodiness to talk or share much with my friends. Georgia picked up on the subtle hints and didn’t press the issue, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she started prodding for details.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” I asked.

“What happened? Did he say anything? Did
you
say anything?”

“Oh, he said some things,” I said, pulling my fingers away from the keyboard. I swiveled around to meet her stare. “You want to tell me why you gave him that article I wrote at the start of the program?”

“Because he wanted to read it.”

“He wouldn’t have even known about it if you hadn’t told him.”

“Oh, come on, Mandy. It was cute.”

“You’re not even going to deny it, are you?” I asked, cracking a smile. “Georgia St. James, I should hate you for humiliating me like that.
He laughed at me
.

“He laughed
with
you.”

“I wasn’t laughing.” I pointed a finger at her. “I was embarrassed. I’ve seriously considered hating you over this.”

“But we both know that you love me too much to hate me,” she said, ruffling my hair. “So ultimately there’s nothing you’re going to do about it.”

“And now I hate you for knowing that’s true.” I rolled my eyes as I turned back to the computer and started typing again.

“So that’s all I’m going to get?” she asked. “He told you about the article I gave him?”

“Yup.”


And
?”

“And he gave me a ride to work,” I said, hoping to gloss over the intimate details of everything that happened between leaving the newsroom and reaching the bakery. What happened out there belonged to us—to me and Gabe—and no one else.

“You’ve gotta give me something here,” Georgia said. “Anything.”

He was hurt. Physically, Gabe wasn’t at his best when we walked out of the school on Wednesday, and it broke my heart to watch him as he dragged his leg behind him. He winced in pain with each step he took to the parking lot.

It was an unpleasant few months.

That’s how he so nonchalantly described the trauma he suffered at war.
It was an unpleasant few months.
When an IED blast nearly cost him the ability to walk, Gabe sat there, focusing only on the facts as he saw them: a slight limp or a twinge of pain wouldn’t skew his perspective.
At least I’m alive.

It was a moment for us, right then and there on the hood of his car. He shared something personal and defining, and opening up wasn’t something that Gabe took lightly. He trusted me with a piece of his past, a piece of himself, and I trusted that it meant we were finally moving in the right direction.

“He fixed my digital recorder,” I said, giving her that little bit of something that she asked for, and that much was true. He’d given it back to me on the ride into Sugar Creek, along with a note that he’d received from little Amanda Goodwin. The note was another special moment for us, something that would inevitably bring us closer together. We shared something there, a common bond with a little girl, whose life had changed because of the things we were doing to strengthen our community. It was an extraordinary feeling knowing that, at the end of the day, even the little things we’d accomplished had meant so much.

“Okay, so he fixed your recorder,” she said. “Is that all?”

No. Not quite. He dropped me off at the bakery for my Wednesday night shift, but not before I offered him sincere thanks, and we exchanged a hug. And that hug sparked something intense, because somewhere between his breath on my face, his eyes locked on mine, and a soft brush of our skin, Gabe and I were very close to sharing what would’ve been our first kiss right there in his car. But moments before his lips ever found mine, Jones took an opportunity to put his drumming skills to work on Gabe’s car windows, interrupting our moment with a few loud bangs.
A little less smoochy-smooch, a little more worky-work, m-k?

I got out of the car, furious with Jones. I turned back, giving up a smile and a wave, and before Gabe drove away, he left me with one last thing—his note.

“Oh,” I said, acting as though it had just occurred to me. “You’re right. There was more. He asked me on a date.”

Georgia’s mouth fell open. There it was the truth—and she couldn’t believe that I’d held out on her.

“Wait, what?” she asked, resting her hip against the desk. “Wait a minute. You waited two whole days to tell me that he asked you out?”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind, George,” I explained. “You know, with my family, the article, and the interviews … it slipped my mind.”

Lie. The fact that Gabe had asked me on a date hadn’t slipped my mind for even a second. It was all I could think about, all I was looking forward to. There wasn’t a thing in the world that could’ve caused that big of a gap in my memory.

“Well, since we both know you’re lying,” she said, reading into my expression, “you can go ahead and tell me now what’s going on.”

“Nothing.”

“You should’ve told me by now,” she said. “You
would’ve
told me if you were excited. You’re not happy. Something’s killed your buzz.”

“Let it go, okay? I need to concentrate.”

“Have you changed your mind?” she asked. “You
want
to go, don’t you?”

“Of course I want to go!”

“Then why the doom and gloom? You haven’t even cracked a smile about it, so excuse me if I’m having a hard time figuring this out. Here you are, claiming you’re insanely crazy about the guy, but you don’t seem even the tiniest bit thrilled by the fact that he’s showing interest in you. It’s weird.”

“It’s my dad, okay?” I blurted, looking back to her. “He and Bailey are fighting, and naturally that means it’s him against us … even though Bailey isn’t talking to me either.”

“Oh,” she said. “So you’re afraid to ask him?”

“I already did,” I said, looking back to the keyboard. “Okay, actually, I didn’t. I think that’s the problem. I kinda
told
him I was going, and even though I said it jokingly, it somehow got interpreted as me not respecting his authority.”

“But … you’re you. He has to know you better than that.” She shook her head. “You’ve never stepped a foot over the line. He has to know you weren’t serious.”

“I kinda was, though,” I said. “Even if I’d bothered asking for permission, it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d said no. I’ve been waiting forever for my chance to spend time alone with Gabe.”

“So you’re—”

“Yes,” I nodded. “I’m going to go.”

Georgia’s face turned a dark shade of red, and I could see that there was something she wanted to say that she wasn’t saying. She bit her tongue and turned away, so I pulled away from the keyboard and gave her my full attention. I watched her, giving her all the permission she needed to go on and say whatever it was that she wanted to say. Still, nothing.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said, filing through some old papers. She wouldn’t even look at me.

“Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“What you’re dying to say,” I said. “
What
?”

“I think … ” she turned back to me again and bit her lower lip, contemplating the repercussions of her honesty. “It’s been hard enough for you and Gabe already, you know? And your Dad has been one of the few people who’s seemed to be on your side the whole time.”

“Your point?”

“If you go behind his back now, he’s never going to trust you again.”

“So you don’t think I should go?”

“I do,” she said. “I think it’s very important that you get that one-on-one time with Gabe. It’ll be the first chance for you two to see each other outside the program, without the thrill of the chase or the sneaking around. You’re taking some of the excitement out of the mix by being open about it, and it’s a great chance for you to see if there’s really something there after all the secrecy’s gone.”

“There
is
something there,” I said, pointing at her again. “And don’t forget it.”

“Okay, sure. But I think you need to ask your dad again,” she said. “You guys were just starting to get along, and I think that you’re only going to make things worse if you go behind his back now. Make him understand how much it means to you. Maybe he’ll change his mind.”

“We’re not talking about a college major or even getting a pet,” I reminded her. “We’re talking about one of his daughters wanting
desperately
to date the man of her dreams. That’s not exactly something Dad is ready and willing to jump on board with and change his mind about.”

Except Dad
had
jumped on it when I first pitched the idea.
It’s about damn time!

“Ask him again?” I asked, wondering how that scenario might play out.

“For real this time,” she said. “Ask him; don’t tell him. Make him understand what this means to you.”

“But what if he says no again?”

“Then Gabe will have to understand. There’ll be another time and place. You’ll have to be patient.”

But I was so tired of being patient. I wasn’t
good
at being patient.

I glared at her.

“What?”

“That was terrible advice.”

“No, it wasn’t!”

“A real friend would’ve offered better advice than that.”

“Like what?” She pretended to be offended.

“Like…
make sure you don’t make any noise when you sneak out of the house tomorrow morning
.

“Oh my God. You’re seriously going to go, aren’t you? With or without his permission?”

“You betcha, sweetheart,” I said, nodding. “I
am
going on that date with Gabe.”

 

 

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