By My Side (8 page)

             
“You're breaking my heart, Gabriel Green!”

             
We looked at each other and exploded in laugher. It's so good, and it hid my uneasiness about the sex part. Nevertheless, our laugher soon died. A loud noise startled me, like someone falling.
Oh, God!
I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs, Gabe on my heels. There's blood. Crap, there's blood! I was paralyzed, she's lying on the ground unconscious. Pieces of glass were in her right arm. She must have fallen with a glass in her hand.

             
“I'll call 911,” Gabe said, squeezing my shoulder. It's like I didn't feel it. For God’s sake, what's happening to my life?

             
In a blur, I saw them taking her away and Gabe answering their questions. I was standing straight, my eyes traveling to and from my mom. Now we're alone. Gabe was in front of me, and worry marked his face. I have no idea what happened in the last thirty minutes.

              “Hey, she'll be okay. They're bringing her to the hospital to clean and stitch her cut, but don't worry.” I looked at his gray eyes with long eyelashes.

              “She didn't wake up,” I said in a voice I didn't recognize.

             
“Because she's too intoxicated. They'll do some tests and keep her tonight, but she'll be okay. I promise.” Dropping my eyes, I looked at my hands. I didn't feel like myself. I didn't feel like this life was mine. I was shattering.

              “Don't make a promise you can't keep.” He put his hand on my cheek and forced me to look at him. He's so tall; his hands were so huge and that made me feel safe with him. Crazy thought.

             
“I'm not the kind of guy who breaks a promise. Now, do you want me to drive you to the hospital?” I took a breath and put a hand on his, which was still on my face. Human contact was good.

              “Go home. You’ve helped me enough,” I said in a murmur.

              “What if I want to come with you?”

             
“Why?” I was at a loss of words. I couldn't think clearly. Everything was so complicated.

             
“Because I want to be with you.” He stepped back, but not before I felt his hand shaking a little. What did he mean?

“Your car, or mine?” I asked. After all, what's the problem? I needed him.

             
Hospitals were depressing. I remembered when I came for a broken arm and for my appendicitis. This place never brought happy memories. Even the smell was awful. We were waiting for two hours. It's been long, but Gabe never seemed to be impatient. He's calm, and it helped. We came with his car, which was not as old as mine, and he seemed to want to stay here with me. He even called his parents to tell them he was crashing with a friend. They believed him without much trouble. Maybe they were happy he was seeing someone else. If only they knew.

              “Miss Saunders?” a doctor called, a file in hand and a hypocritical smile.

I stood up and grabbed Gabe's hand without thinking.

              “That’s me. How is my mother?” I asked in a voice quieter than usual.

             
“She's better. She needed twenty-two stitches, but her forearm will be okay in a few weeks. We ran some tests to see if she knocked her head when she fell, but everything is fine. No concussion.”

             
“So, we can bring her home?” Somewhere in my head I knew all along things weren't that simple.

             
“No, I'm sorry, Miss Saunders. She's staying for the night, for observation. Even more, she'll see a psychiatrist to discuss her addiction.”

             
“Oh,” I managed to say, tightening my grip on Gabe's hand. I felt so cold it was heaven to feel someone's heat.

             
“How old are you, Miss Saunders?” Don't panic or everything will be uglier.

             
“I turned eighteen in April.” The doctor looked at Gabe and me, and seemed to buy my lie. Thank God, Gabe looked easily twenty.

             
“You should go home. Your mother has been sedated. She'll sleep until tomorrow morning.”

             
And just like that, he turned around. No social worker after my mom, and we’ll be okay. I hoped she’d listen to the psychiatrist, but I wasn't sure she would. Still gripping Gabe's hand, I leaned against the wall. All this white was disturbing. My stomach groaned and Gabe chuckled at the sound. We hadn't eaten one thing since breakfast, and it’s already evening.

             
“Do you want to see your mother before we leave?” Gabe asked, his thumb making little circles on my hand.

             
“Am I a terrible person if I say I don't want to see her?” Yeah, sometimes I give a damn about what people might think about me. Right now, I just wanted to go home. I needed to draw. I just needed an escape.

             
“Of course not, come on.”

             
Still hand in hand, we headed to the parking lot. The pressure of his masculine hand in mine was the only thing that made me stay in the present, which made me stay in control. No tears wanted to come and it's fine with me.

             
We ate a pizza, a really good classic one, and were talking about high school. Gabe was trying to distract me from the rest of my life. It's funny to think now that the only thing normal in my life was high school.

             
“So, you're hanging out with the popular crowd since you’re always with Andy?” he asked with a smile. I laughed. Yeah, I was really a social butterfly. Like hell!

              “Yeah, you know me. I'm always smiling, talking pleasantly, and so on. People are attracted to me.” I missed my sarcasm; it's good to find it again.

             
“You're not the high scholar type, but you're quite fun,” he teased.

             
I took the pizza box, now empty, and put it in the garbage bin full of bottles. I grabbed two Cokes in the fridge and sat down in front of Gabe, who hadn't missed one movement. It's not as creepy as it could be.

              “Maybe it's because we're alike at some things. We're real pros with sarcasm, we can't say sorry, and we're messed up.”

             
“You're right, but I can't imagine that nobody at school wants to hang out with you,” he insisted, frowning.

             
“There are some people, but I don't connect with them. I'm always filtrating what to say and what not to say. It's frustrating, and Andy doesn't understand that.” When I said Andy's name, I saw Gabe tense. I was so clumsy with him. If only his gray eyes didn't make me so nervous.

             
“Sometimes I don't get people,” he said, turning his ring repeatedly. What did he mean? Was he talking about his brother? Or about Connor? Or even my parents? Or worse, was he talking about me?

             
Remembering what he said to his parents about crashing at some friend's house I was wondering if I had to invite him to stay tonight. After what he did for me, I could do that.

              “Do you want to stay? I mean, your parents are not expecting you tonight,” I said, blushing a little. I didn't even know why.

             
“If it's not bothering you, it would be cool.” He was rubbing a hand on his stubble.

             
“No, it’s okay, but we don't have a guest room. You can sleep in the office. Well, it was an office, but now there's only a couch.”

             
“That's fine, thank you.” I smiled a little, but it didn’t reach my eyes. I didn't have to pretend with him, but I couldn't help to try nevertheless. I was stubborn and everyone knew it.

             
“You must be exhausted,” I said, seeing it was nearly midnight. The day had been long and short at the same time. The confrontation with my father seemed so far away.
Strange.

             
“You want to draw before going to bed,” he stated. He's reading me like an open book.
Really disturbing.

             
“Yeah, I need to calm down, or I'll never fall asleep. I've got many things to get out of my mind.”

             
“Can I come?” he asked. I wasn't expecting that. I thought he would want to put an end to this day.

              “Why? It's not very interesting, you know. I draw in silence. Nothing extravagant,” I replied. He finished his Coke and stood up. Once again, his mind was already made up.

             
“I'm not really exhausted, Lily. Now I'm used to sleeping later. And I'm not exactly excited to have nightmares.” When he put it like that, I couldn't say no. He's good with guilt and compassion.

             
“Okay, but you’re not going to look over my shoulder and you'll stay quiet.”

             
“All right, Chief!” I raised my eyebrow. Idiot! However, I smiled.

             
My first drawing was an empty hospital room. The bed was unmade, with an IV next to it. Looking at it sent a chill down my spine. Gabe was sitting on the floor, reading. He always had a book in his jean’s pocket. It's an old paperback of
Never Let Me Go
. He's quiet, but sometimes I felt his eyes on me. I could tell he's curious about this artist part of me. I was more sensitive and soft than I seemed.