Flashcards On The Wall

Chapter 47: Questions and Answers

Gabriel comes home at one o'clock. I'm still on the couch.

"I thought you'd be asleep," Gabriel tells me.

"I wish. I lost track of time writing then thinking to myself. How were your friends?" I ask.

"Fine. How were things here?" he looks around.

"Everything was fine here too. Your parents went to bed hours ago," I respond.

"Good."

"You know, despite the circumstances, meeting them, your parents...they seem like really nice people. Your mom is the sweetest person. She made me miss my mom," I explain.

"Nothing that can't be fixed," he answers.

"True," I reply, "I'll probably end up calling her tomorrow."

"You should," Gabriel agrees.

"Gabriel, I wanted to talk to you. I know that I have no right to ask anything of you. Asking you to bring me was only one of the long list of demands I've made. I knew you didn't want to and still I insisted-"

"That's what you want to tell me?" he asks.

"No," I answer, "I wanted to ask why did you agreed to it?"

"I don't have an answer for that," again he doesn't want to tell me something.

"Oh. Okay," I reply.

"They liked you too," he tells me, "My parents. I can tell."

"You didn't want to stay, but I know you love them. I feel like you're building up this wall against them. I don't understand it. You need your family. It's hurting you and them and they've done nothing to deserve it. Neither have you."

"It's late," he tells me.

With that, I know he isn't willing to talk about what I said now. We walk to his room in silence.

"I'll take the futon. You can have the bed," he says then faces me, "I didn't even ask you if you were okay with sharing the room. I can take the couch."

"It's fine. It's not like you'd try anything," I answer without much thought.

"If you prefer-" he starts.

"When was the last time you actually wanted to be around me, Gabriel? Or even attempted to touch me for that matter?" I hear my own words, harsh, cold, and I regret them.

I close my eyes and take a breath.

"It was a hard day. I'm sorry," I say.

"Don't worry about it," Gabriel grabs extra sheets for the futon.

I sit on the bed, "Gabriel? Did you notice that we've talked more today than we have in the last month? We've acted more like a couple in the last twenty-four hours and I don't even know if we still are one."

It feels like forever until I get a response from him, "I don't know either."

"I, myself am not completely sure why I even wanted to be at the funeral at all or felt like I had to be. I think I had to see for myself so that I would never have to worry about him again."

Which is stupid because every day Charlie is in my head. Every day I do worry. Every time I run into someone I know even when they've given me no reason to doubt, I keep my distance. I worry when I'm in class and don't hear what the professor is saying because I'm stuck in my head or freaking out about the number the number of people around me. I worry every time I walk into a room and feel like I can't breathe. I worry at night when I don't have the courage to lay in my own bed. I worry when Tash wakes me up from yet another nightmare. Right now, I worry today will change nothing.