Gabriel: Prequel

ten

[ gabe's pov]

"I am very tired now, so can we take a break, please?"

Rehan, Nicholas and I had taken the opportunity to bond closer whilst Harper had to do whatever elusive business she had to; this whole time, she thought she was being discreet but, actually, her absence became suspicious. The three of us hung out a lot during the couple of weeks that we've been here, and to be honest, they were fun. Refreshing, even. They aren't the tired types of people back in our town: they're new, exciting and honest. Their main goal isn't to conquer then leave. 

Amancia suggested that we walk around the small village and find places to eat, which, in theory, seemed easy enough until Rehan got tired of walking. Obviously.

"We'll take a break now?" I ask, gesturing towards a bustling restaurant that looked promising enough.  Nicholas doesn't respond but follows my gesture, furrowing his brows in thought. Getting to know them over the past couple of weeks taught me that despite being a close knit group, these two are very different. Rehan can be loud, unfiltered and outspoken, whilst Nicholas is quiet, stoic and blunt. Nevertheless, they seemed to bond well. I'm not sure whether I would fit with them, however. We quickly walk to the restaurant, order a table and sit, with Nicholas opposite us. 

"The amount of food on here is incredible: do I want carbonara, or do I want risotto? The options are quite dreadful," Rehan mumbles, furrowing his brows, too. I follow his gaze and skim the menu, not wanting to eat too much. It's true I'm not at home with my family, which is good, but it also means that I'm not able to carry on with football like I should. I worked hard for that position, and sacrificed so much to be where I am. Now, I feel like it is all slipping through my fingers as I stay further and further away. Whenever I think about football and winning, a part of me wants to go back there and taste the ambition that I'm starting to lose; but then, I think about how happy Harper is, and I'm unable to think about leaving her. Because, truthfully, I don't know if I could retain this happiness I've gained without her, and I'm too scared to find out.

"Perhaps the choice would be easier to make if you stay quiet," Nicholas remarks, calling over the water effortlessly.

"Hello, is everyone ready to order?"

"Well, not quit-"

"Yes, we are. I'll have a steak," Nicholas nods, looking at me next.

"I guess I'll have a caprese salad, thanks."

"Diet?"

"Something like that," I shrug.

"And you, sir?"

"I'll go for the carbonara and spinach risotto, thank you."

I nod in satisfaction at Rehan's choice, suddenly feeling self conscious of my own. When the waiter leaves, we stay in silence; Rehan checks his phone religiously whilst Nicholas and I scan the place.

"Do you not check your phone that much?" I ask.

He shakes his head, pushing his hair back behind his ears, "If I do that in the middle of a conversation, then I may as well not even be here at all."

"You're pretty eloquent, you know."

"And you. Partly," his lips twitch a centimetre at the last part, digging into his food as it arrives in time. 

We eat in silence, only Rehan's audible pleasure of food ringing around the silence between us; for the first time, though, it settles into a comfortable silence, and not an awkward one.

"Do you want some risotto, Gabe? The salad looks...not enough," Rehan comments, bringing up a fork of risotto towards my plate which I shake my head at.

"Nah, I'm getting full."

"You're lying; you don't need to tell us anything," Nicholas adds, still eating.

"It's not a big deal," I shrug, "I was an athlete, so it's habit to just eat healthily."

"If you were an athlete, why wouldn't you go back to it?"

"After a certain point, winning doesn't feel freeing anymore, it becomes controlling and scary. People rely on you too much, and if you don't win, then their reactions are more disappointing than losing, itself."

"Was someone like that with you?" Nicholas asks, his eyes tentative.

"My dad: winning and losing became the same and eventually, so did everything else. To do the wrong thing was as habitual as losing."

"You're eloquent, too," he nods, his eyes still boring into mine.

"But," Rehan interrupts, his face slightly apologetic, "if losing is the same as breathing, then winning must be the same as surviving. It can be hard to breathe, and you start to struggle, afraid that you're gasping for air. But then, you start to catch your breath and feel elated. That's like winning, right? You've done things right, and you don't feel as afraid."

"Exactly that, actually. How did you know?"

"I can relate, believe it or not. My family is quite Asian, so being competitive in most things is second nature. I was the misfit kid, always ruining things for everyone. But, sometimes, I did things right and those were the times I'd kill for."

I nod at each word, my own heart feeling the same emotion as he must have. "For what it's worth, you would be doing all the wrong things right."

His mouth splits into a grin at my words and he fist bumps me, "Or doing all the right things wrong, even."

"The latter, definitely," Nicholas adds, ignoring the fist bump, making us snigger.

"And you? Surely there must be something to uncover from you?" I ask warily, eyeing his face to check I'm not overstepping.

"Not really. I had a good life, actually. It was just a life that paled in comparison when I met Amancia; she was different, and her world seemed more bright than mine. So, that's why I'm here with her."

I will my face not to morph into surprise: all this time, I assumed he would have had a hard life that led him astray, but, actually, it was his saving grace that led him astray. I suddenly feel a lot more respect for her.

After Rehan mocks him, we fall into a comfortable silence again, and even the air has shifted. The boundaries between us lessened a bit, making the air between us feel breathable.