Saving Wishes

Saving Wishes Part 5

10. French Attack

School was the last place I felt like going, and Alex's offer of spending the day with me was practically an invitation to ditch. I considered going to see Adam but talked myself out of it. I'd almost accused him of being Alex and Gabrielle's accomplice – their aide-de-camp. Even Adam had to have a limit. I was sure I'd pushed him beyond it.

I watched monstrous dark clouds rolling in across the bay. The approaching storm matched my mood perfectly and I decided to make the most of it. I grabbed my camera bag from the passenger seat. I'd found my calling for the day. I slung the bag over my shoulder and ventured up the steep hill.

The top of the paddock was relatively flat, at least level enough to sit comfortably while I steadied my camera on the small tripod. I was still setting up my equipment, trading glances between the viewfinder and the angry sky above when something I wasn't expecting caught my eye.

"No freaking way," I mumbled, looking through the viewfinder to be sure it was actually her.

Climbing through the wire fence by the road was Gabrielle – not an easy manoeuvre in a pencil skirt and the most beautiful black heels I'd ever seen.

I considered lying down in the long grass – watching her staggering around in heels while she searched for me did have its appeal – but decided that seeing her stumble her way towards me like a drunk beauty queen was pleasure enough.

She was halfway up before she gave up on preserving her pretty shoes. I giggled as I watched her pull them off one at a time, futilely dusting them off as she stumbled closer to me.

Finally she was close enough to hear me speak. "If you were planning to drag me to school, you might have considered wearing more sensible shoes," I told her, fighting the urge to snap a picture of her.

"I'm not planning to drag you anywhere," she replied, still breathless from her trek.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I was passing and saw your car."

"Your house is that way," I said, pointing south. "Were you on your way back from my house? Did he let you stay over and sneak you out after I left?"

She overlooked my sarcasm, dropped her shoes on the ground and replied without skipping a beat. "No, he snuck me out the window before dawn."

I had to hand it to her; she was playing the game to perfection.

"What do you want, Gabrielle?"

She pointed to the grass. "Can I sit?"

"Sure. Pull up a blade."

Her usually flawless demeanour faltered as she flopped on the grass beside me, tugging at her tight black skirt. Turning my attention back to the viewfinder on my camera, I studied the black clouds rolling in.

"It's kind of fitting, don't you think?" she asked.

"What is?"

"The weather. The calm before the storm."

"Are you expecting a storm, Mademoiselle Décarie?" I asked, feigning disinterest.

"I am expecting nothing less," she revealed smugly.

"Is that because I am malevolent and full of animosity?" I asked, reciting one of her previous descriptions of me.

"No, it's because you're hurt. And when you're wounded, you do what you need to in order to protect your heart."

"You don't know me," I scoffed, annoyed that she was right.

"I know you adore Alex."

"So do you, apparently."