Unveiling The Sky Page 14

“Well it’s a yes or no question. So one of those two answers would be good.”

  “He’s like my brother,” she sputtered.

  “No, he’s not.” I stared at her pointedly.

  “No, he’s not,” she mocked with an exaggerated eye roll.

  “You act like it’s uncommon for girls to have a crush on their best friend’s older brother. I can’t tell you how many times my sister’s friends”–—I paused and made quote marks in the air—“confused my bedroom for the bathroom.”

  Alara’s eyebrows rose comically high as she slumped back into the seat with a small smile on her face. I groaned loudly before returning her smile. “I’m not trying to be an ass. It’s the truth. The only friend of hers that had the geography of our bathroom down ended up being gay.”

  She chuckled. “Okay, Don Juan. Well when I said he’s like a brother to me, I meant it. So, no, we’ve never slept together. Nor will we ever sleep together. There has not even been a thought about us sleeping together. We’ve never even kissed. Nor will we ever—”

  “Okay, okay. I get it. Thank you.” I rolled my eyes at her lengthy explanation, hoping my face didn’t betray the intense relief I felt. But inside I couldn’t deny how great that was to hear.

  “You’re welcome.” She eyed me for a minute before speaking again. “So, what, you’re one of those people who think that guys and girls can’t just be friends?”

  I shook my head. “Naomi and Sherry are my friends.”

  Her face froze and her next two words were whispered. “And me?”

  I made sure I was looking directly in her eyes when I spoke next, even as her wide, hazy eyes were rapidly moving between mine. “I absolutely believe that guys and girls can just be friends. But I also believe that we”—I paused to make a hand motion that went in a circle between us—“are not one of them. You are not my friend, Alara.” I slowly reached down and placed my palm over the clenched fist in her lap. My gaze involuntarily slipped to her lips for the hundredth time tonight as I leaned forward slightly. “Am I really just your friend?” I whispered. My eyes dropped to her throat as she swallowed, and by the time my gaze returned to hers, she was staring at our hands.

  When she looked up our eyes locked and she slowly flipped her hand so it was palm up beneath mine. We said nothing as our fingers deliberately came together on top of the sticky steel nightclub table, as a couple with only three pieces of clothing from having sex “danced” two feet away. The music continued playing at a painful decibel as an overly enthusiastic, but for once not horrible, karaoke singer sang about chains and whips exciting her. I hadn’t had anything planned, but if I had to wager a guess at how I’d ask her out, this would not be anywhere on the list. But suddenly this seemed like the perfect place, like the only place. So before I lost my nerve, I asked.

  “Will you go out with me?”

  I opened my mouth to respond; I had no idea what I was going to say, but step one was complete: my mouth was open. I should have immediately said no, I should have told him that I was not even a little bit interested. But that would have been a lie and based on how I let him grope me earlier, he would know that. I was very interested. But I was also very scared and inexperienced and distrusting and every other neurotic trait destined to destroy a relationship.

  We were still holding hands and looking directly at each other, which made everything worse. Because if we weren’t touching and looking at each other I could convince myself that he was just confused, that he didn’t really want to go out with me. But with our hands touching I could feel the nervous sweat on his palm, and with our eyes locked I could see his countenance shift from confident to wholly unsure. And it broke my heart. He began to squirm and tried to remove his hand from mine, but I held on to such a degree it was probably painful.

  “It’s not you,” I rushed out, only to cringe at how horribly cliché that was, even if it was one hundred percent the truth.

  “You know, I’m not that bad of a guy. Or so I’ve been told.” He pulled on my hand, playfully trying to laugh off the moment, but I could still hear the gravity in his voice and see the sadness in his eyes.

  “I know that,” I whispered. My eyes darted between his as I tried to silently convey all the things I couldn’t say.

  “I don’t understand,” he whispered back. “If you don’t feel the same way, just tell me and we can”—he stopped abruptly and shook his head before continuing—“God, I really don't know what we could do because I just don’t believe this is one-sided. I think you do feel the same way but something is holding you back.”

  “I know that,” I repeated, like he hadn’t even spoken. “Why do you think I don’t want you to date me?”

  His eyes widened as he shook his head. “Alara—”

  I quickly put my fingers to his lips; however, in my drunken state it came off as a light slap to his cheek. I laughed but the moment quickly grew serious again. “Don’t,” I whispered. “Please don’t say anything right now.”

  He shook his head again and looked straight into my eyes. “We can’t avoid this conversation forever—this isn’t something that goes away.”

  Internally cursing myself for being so awkward and afraid, I slumped down in the seat. “Gabe, I’m trying to do you a favor.”

  I came so close to just telling him everything because all I wanted was to wipe the look of hurt off his face. I knew enough about hurt and I never wanted to be responsible for hurting another person, especially him. But I feared the cost would be my own pain, so I was selfish and kept everything to myself.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered pathetically. He took one last look at my face before nodding and getting out of the booth. His brows were furrowed and he cleared his throat before throwing some money on the table.

  “Will you tell them I was tired and went home?”

  “H-how will you get home?”

  “Cab.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure if we just go get them—”

  “Alara,” he interrupted. “No offense, but I don’t really want to be around any of you right now.”

  “Oh. Okay,” I said as I slumped back into the booth.

  He gave me one last searching look before blowing out a breath, turning around, and walking out the door.

  …

  “Maybe you should slow down,” Sherry cautioned. You knew things were bad when Sherry started warning you about your drinking. She had arrived a few minutes after Gabe left and found me sulking in the booth, and when she tried to ask me what was wrong I blew her off and dragged her to the bar.

  “Nope, I’m greeeaaaatttt.” I hiccupped. “Who was that?” I yelled and poked Naomi in the side.

  “Tony the tiger. Jeez,” she grumbled as she rubbed her side. “I forgot how annoying you get when you’re drunk.”

  “HEY!” I shrieked. “How rude!” I mimicked the high-pitched voice and tried to keep a straight face, but my cackles took over. “Who was that?”

  “Stephanie Tanner. Seriously, how much has she had to drink?” Sherry asked, looking nervous, as she turned to Naomi.

  As they spoke in hushed voices, my gaze traveled over to the corner where Derek was talking to the last singer who had performed. I still couldn’t believe Gabe asked if we slept together. I mean how freaking weird was that? Not to mention gross. I shuddered at the image.

  “What’s weird?” Naomi asked, making me realize I said that last bit out loud.

  “Gabe asked me if Derek and I… ya know.” I widened my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows for added effect.

  “If you, what? Have seizures? Because that’s exactly what it looks like right now,” Sherry said as she waved the bartender over for some water.

  I rolled my eyes and took a sip of the water placed in front of me. “Noooo… he asked if Derek and I slept together.”

  Water came spurting from Naomi’s mouth as she started choking while Sherry simply smirked and shook her head. I knew she knew what I was trying to say. I gave her a comple
tely and ridiculously fake glare, which only forced out the laughter she had been holding. “Why can’t you just say ‘sex’? When you say ‘slept together’ it just seems like you’re a preteen too afraid to say the actual word. It’s not a bad word, Alara. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Seeexxxx.”

  “I know that… I just… ahh, this is stupid. That’s not even the point. Gabe asked me out,” I confessed.

  “Wait,” Naomi said after she finally got her coughing under control. “You’re giving me verbal whiplash. How did we go from talking about sex with Derek, a topic that I keep begging you guys to keep to a minimum, to Gabe asking you out?”

  I blew out a breath and explained the whole thing. Well, I was pretty sure I explained everything, but I could feel my stomach turning and my eyelids drooping shut against my will.

  “Okay, we’re going to table this for right now. It’s time we get her home. Who drove?” Sherry asked.

  “Derek. But I’ve only had a couple drinks and that was a few hours ago, so I should be good to drive.”

  I saw Sherry shake her head out of the corner of my eye. “Nope. I took a cab and I’m completely sober, so I will be the one driving.”

  “Thank God. I hate driving even if I’ve only had half of a beer,” Naomi said as she tossed her the keys she’d been holding for her brother.

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve got her,” Sherry said as she nodded toward me. “You’re good to get Derek?”

  “Oh, most definitely.”

  Sherry and I were slowly making our way to the front door when my stomach protested all that was inside and we had to rush to the bathroom. After I emptied out what felt like everything I had ever eaten and drank, we made our way back through the club and outside.

  “Are you okay? Did you have too much to drink?” Sherry asked as she buckled me into the front seat. And even in my drunken state, I knew she was asking if this much alcohol was messing with my emotions. “Are you feeling…?”

  She trailed off, unsure of what I could be feeling.

  “I’m fine.” I swallowed and closed my eyes against the bright parking lot lights. “I mean, I’m not fine. But I’m fine. You know?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered. My eyes snapped open just as she started to close the door. I quickly reached up and grabbed for her arm. I missed, but still, she froze.

  “Did I make a mistake?” My voice was strained with panic and I could feel my wide eyes watering.

  She crouched down with a soft look of understanding on her face. “Maybe. Can I ask you why you said no?”

  “You know why.” I released her arm and looked down at all four of my hands.

  I saw two of her nod in my periphery. “But I want to hear you say it. I think you need to hear you say it.”

  “I don’t…”

  “Don’t what?” she pushed.

  “Sherry, I’m never going to get better.” I paused as the tears started to silently fall. “Sometimes I feel like someone just dropped me here, like maybe God created me but forgot to create others like me. And sometimes I think I’m sad just because I can’t find them. So I think that if I keep working at, keep trying to get better, one day I’ll fit in somewhere. I’ll be enough for someone.” I shook my head and rolled it on the headrest toward her. “Is this making sense?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  The cool track marks of my tears felt strange against my hot face as I continued. “I mean obviously you and Naomi—”

  “I know,” she assured me quickly. “It’s a different kind of belonging.” I nodded as a haunted look quickly passed through her face. “How does Gabe make you feel?”

  “Incredible. But when I thought about dating again I wasn’t thinking about the other person. And now that person has a name and a face, and he’s such a good person, Sherry. He shouldn’t have to deal with any of this.”

  “I think that’s his decision.”

  But he didn’t know, he hadn’t been around me when I was so lethargic that all I would do was lie in bed or sit on the couch just staring at the TV for days. He didn’t know, so how could he really make that call? But I knew, and I could honestly say I was doing him a favor.

  “But that’s not all this is about…” Sherry prompted after I stayed quiet for a few minutes.

  Weary, I lifted my head. Protecting him was only part of it; at the end of the day I was also protecting myself. “What if his decision is to walk away? I couldn’t handle that again. Especially not from him.”

  “That’s all anyone’s fear is when it comes to relationships. He has the same ones. I have the same ones. I know you think this is about your depression, but at the end of the day it’s the same fear that everyone else has.”

  Sherry ran her hand through my hair as she pushed it behind my ear. “Even though you say that you know this is a forever thing, I think you’re secretly waiting for this perfect moment where a banner will drop down with big bold letters saying HEALED! But you have to truly face the reality that this could be something you deal with for the rest of your life, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m afraid that if you keep waiting for yourself to be perfect, you’re never going to let anyone in.

  “We’re all a little messed up, Alara. We’ve all been hurt. And sometimes it takes a little while for us to find someone who complements us. But I think you’ve found it, and I hope once you think about it, you’ll see that you have too.” She wasted no time in gently shutting the door before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat. And as blackness set in and my eyes drooped shut, I couldn’t help but think that I had more questions than answers.

  I hadn’t seen Alara since the night of karaoke over two weeks ago. That first night I was annoyed, pissed, sad, and hurt. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe she just needed time. I had a week to work up the nerve to ask, and maybe she needed that as well. So I gave her a week, and that week came and went. Now it had been two weeks and I was right back to the beginning: annoyed, pissed, sad, and hurt, which led me to the stupid, stupid, STUPID decision of agreeing to lunch with Miranda.

  She called two days ago, right in the middle of my pity party, saying she wanted to have dinner. I compromised and said we could do lunch because somehow that seemed more appropriate with an ex. And despite her shallow nature, she really wasn’t a bad person. She just never had a reason to think outside what she’d always known. If my mother hadn’t died, I’d still be doing the same things and thinking the same way.

  I scanned the tables as I walked into the restaurant, and with a resigned sigh, I made my way over to the table in the corner once I found her.

  “Hi,” she greeted me animatedly as she got out of her chair to hug me. I stood back as far as I could without it being awkward and gave her a one-handed pat on the back.

  “Hey. How are you?” I asked as I sat down across from her with my back facing the rest of the restaurant.

  “I’ve been better.” She smiled sadly. “I have something I need to tell you, but first I wanted to apologize for how I acted the last time we saw each other.”

  “That’s really not necessary.”

  Miranda nodded thoughtfully before picking up her glass of wine and taking a sip. “You know, you could have been a real ass about all this. That shit I said to you was pretty unforgivable.” She bit her lip as tears welled in her eyes. I opened my mouth to speak but she quickly continued, “I’m so sorry, Gabe. What I said about your mom… I’m ashamed I said those things. She was like a second mother to me and I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have even thought those things. Your mother never cared about that kind of stuff. You could be the President of the United States or just a bum who collected cans and she’d love you the same.”

  “Yeah, she was pretty incredible like that.” I smiled, remembering all the times my mother tried to get me to leave the financial world. “She never wanted me involved in that stuff.”

  “Really?” Despite how much Miranda did love my mother, she had always been closer to my father.


  “Yeah, she was always telling me it wasn’t my passion, that I didn’t love it. I never really understood until after she was gone.”

  “I think she felt that way about me too.” She cut me off before I could respond. “But I don’t, Gabe. I know I’m just jumping right into things here, but I don’t think this is what you want out of life. I think you’re just afraid to be reminded of her. But one day that will change and you’ll come back to me. You’ll come back to our life. I believe that.” She reached across the table and settled her hand onto mine. I had just started removing my hand and opened my mouth to dissuade her when—

  “Gabe?”

  I clenched my fist (still under her hand) and closed my eyes at the sound of the voice I had wanted to hear for two weeks, and now I was hearing it at the worst possible moment. How much of that had she heard? What did she think was happening here?

  I turned around, extracting my hand in the process, and found her awkwardly shifting on her feet as she clutched her purse to her shoulder. “Hey.” I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she wasn’t looking at me. Glancing back toward Miranda, I realized they were both waiting for me to introduce them.

  “Miranda, this is my friend, Alara.” I waved a hand in Alara’s direction before gesturing to Miranda. “Miranda’s an old friend of the family.” Both girls looked a little stunned at how I introduced them, but they quickly schooled their expressions and gave each other an awkward smile.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just saw you and thought…” Alara trailed off and shook her head. “Well it was nice to meet you, Miranda. I’ll, uh, see you around, Gabe.” She was out the door before I could respond. I turned around, preparing to make a pathetic excuse for leaving so I could follow Alara, when Miranda’s glare stopped me cold.

  “An old family friend? Really?”

  “That’s the truth.” I shrugged and pulled out my wallet.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, among other things.”

  “Miranda, I appreciate the apology and I know you are saying all these things because you care about me. But I need you to hear what I’m saying. We are not going to get back together and I am not going to change my mind. I hate being so blunt but, like I said months ago, I’d feel worse if I gave you any kind of false hope. We were friends long before we started dating and I want us both to be happy, and even if you can’t see it now, that won’t be with each other.”