Robin des Bois ✓

thirteen. Distractions

This whole "this isn't what it looks like" thing Gabe and me had going on was starting to get real old real fast.

Alessandra Ferreira was staring at us as though we were something freshly out of X-files, with both amazement and disbelief. She blinked several times, as though she expected the scene before her to be a mirage and to dissolve into thin air at any second.

"Let me go," I hissed at Gabriel through gritted teeth. I swear I could actually feel him smile as he tightened his grip on me. "I was just leaving," I informed Alessandra, trying to look and sound nonchalant as I disengaged myself from Gabe's arms, all the while hoping that my expression didn't convey my urgent need to strangle her brother with my bare hands.

"No, I can go!" Alessandra picked up the bag she'd dropped and started backing out from Gabe's apartment. "I'll come by some other time, it's really no problem."

"I really was leaving." I said and started towards the door, but Gabe's voice stopped me.

"Not even a kiss goodbye?" My jaw clenched and I let my breath out through my nose as Alessandra gaped at us, still looking as though she couldn't believe the sight before her eyes.

I spun on my heel and planted a rough kiss on Gabe's cheek, not without whispering a menacing "you'll pay for this" before pulling away. His smirk told me that my threat didn't worry him in the slightest, and that only made me more determined. I gave him a smirk of my own before I left and right as the door was closing behind me, I heard his voice one last time.

"I told you to never come here." All the playfulness and teasing had left his tone. He sounded angry. Anxious. More brotherly than ever.

And for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, I realized that Gabriel Ferreira was completely uncharted territory to me. A mystery begging to be solved.

And while it probably really shouldn't have, the thought of delving into his darkest, most guarded secrets filled me with a morbid excitement.

~♠~

The ride home left me completely drained of all energy, and by the time the bus got to my stop, the only things that kept me going were my growling stomach and the promise of a warm bed waiting for me back in my apartment.

When I finally got home, I found my father sprawled on the couch, an empty beer can on the floor and the TV blaring some football game at nearly full volume. I grabbed the remote from the coffee table and muted the TV, head pounding. For some reason, the sudden silence woke my dad and he cast a confused look around the living room, until his bloodshot eyes found me.

"Oh, hey Niña," he said, his voice still groggy with sleep. "Where you been?"

"At T&T's." The lie came out smoothly -I was really getting better and better at lying to everyone. "You up for some chicken wings tonight?"

My father rubbed his eyes and nodded, giving me a tired smile. "Sure, Niña."

Without wasting any time -my stomach made sure to remind me that every passing minute brought me closer to death by starving -I got to the kitchen and grabbed a box of frozen chicken wings. My father came in soon after to help.

"What can I do?" he asked and I pointed a finger at one of our cupboards.

"Could you get the fryer? And you can start cutting tomatoes."

My father did as asked without any comment and we settled into a comfortable silence. Once the French fries were sizzling in the fryer and the smell of roasting chicken wings filled the kitchen, I leaned back against the counter, watching my father as he efficiently sliced lettuce into neat little rectangles, before dumping it into a salad bowl. As I observed him, I felt the urge to spill my guts about my stupid stunt at the frat party. I knew that my father wouldn't be happy about it. I knew that he would understand my motivations, but that he would definitely not agree with my methods. He would see the bigger picture -what I'd done could very well land me in jail and it was a miracle that I hadn't gotten caught sooner. He would tell me that no matter how good my intentions were, a jury and a judge wouldn't see them as justification for my acts. After all, he always told me that the road to hell was paved with good intentions.