Silent {g.m}

Chapter 12

   The rest of the day consisted of Gabe and I lounging around. Whether we were eating or watching TV, neither of us did anything productive. The other four were at their own homes, probably catching up with their friends and family. I felt kind of bad while they were going on about everything they were going to do when they got back home. They were all forced to leave all of a sudden and live in a resident they've never been in. I don't even think Cole had been in that house before. 

    All because of the stupid media and paparazzi sticking their noses where it doesn't belong. I'm happy they're back home. We hadn't expected any visitors yesterday, except for Jay when she came home. She watched movies with us until the clock struck eleven. When she went to bed, I figured we should, too. The next morning, however, the last thing I expected was to come down the stairs and see IM5 sitting around the kitchen table eating pancakes. 

    "Morning," I say, sliding into an empty seat next to Cole. "What are you guys doing here? I figured you'd be spending times with your families again." 

    "We already caught up with them," Dalton, who is sitting in front of me, explains with a shrug. "There's not that much to tell them other than the fact that we went to school. And, apparently, nothing happened here. Well, except for Annabeth, who's now resorted to crying over a fake break up with Dana." He smirks at Dana with the last sentence. 

   Dana, who's sitting next to Dalton, sighs and closes his eyes. "Why did I ever get involved with…" I don't catch the rest of his question, because it appears he's talking to himself. Cole pats his back and laughs. Evidently, this whole situation is funny to the rest of the boys. 

    A hand rests on my shoulder and I look up. Gabe is standing behind me, holding a plate. "What's one thing you've always wanted to do?" he asks, sliding a plate in front of me. A stack of three pancakes sits on the blue plastic plate. Two squares of butter slowly melt against the hot, fluffy pancakes.

    "Hm," I say, picking up the bottle of maple syrup. I pop the cap off the top and tip the bottle to the left. A stream of thick, golden brown syrup drips from the bottle and onto the pancake. The syrup runs over the sides and makes puddles on the plate. 

   "Ziplining," I answer, closing the syrup and sitting it down next to my plate. Across from me, Dana motions to the bottle. I slide the bottle across the table and Dana thanks me with a smile.

   I look back at Gabe, who is trying to get my attention. He smiles once my eyes meet his. "Awesome," he says, "we leave at noon."

    "Noon, as in today?" I question, my eyes widening.

    "Yeah, why? What's wrong?"

    "Nothing's wrong, I just didn't think you were serious."

    He smirks. "Well, I am. You'd better get ready." I pick up a knife and fork and smile at him. Then, I begin eating my perfect looking pancakes.

    Two hours later, I'm in the front seat next to Gabe. The boys are in the back, probably singing along to the music playing on the radio. I press my hand against the speaker next to my leg. Vibrations shoot up my arm and makes my fingers tingle. I feel eyes watching me, so I look at Gabe. He's watching me with a curious expression.

    I blush. "I was curious about what music was being played."

    "It's a slow song, now," he informs me. I smile at him, embarrassed. He smiles at me, probably found my burning cheeks and shy demeanor amusing. The car suddenly jerks to a stop and Gabe turns his head.