Chapter 30

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𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆.


𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐈, 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃, 𝐏𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌. I always try to convince him otherwise, but he's too stubborn. I should know by now that it is no use.

The room has a table in the middle with a candle lit in the middle of it. There is a red tablecloth covering it. The carpet is also red, and the walls are light grey. There is one shelf on the wall, which holds nothing but a fake plant. The table is set nicely, and the whole room is dimly lit. It is a little warm in here, but it is nice. It is completely private- no windows pointing to the outdoors or the rest of the restaurant.

Once we're settled with our food, I look around, then chuckle, saying, "You and Pedri go here?" It seems a little funny to me, since this room is clearly meant for a couple.

"Yeah, why not?"

"It kinda seems like it's-" I cut myself off. I was about to say 'meant for just a guy and a girl. You know, like a couple.' But then maybe that would be suggesting something with us that isn't there...

"What? What does it seem like?" The tone of his voice isn't demanding- just curious.

"Oh, I don't know..."

"Sure, it seems a little romantic," he chuckles very softly, shaking his head. "But who cares? Me and Pedri don't. And I hope you don't."

I shrug with a nod. He just made it clear that there is nothing romantic meant in this situation. A pit in my stomach that I didn't even know was there drops. I feel a little sick from it.

The food is delicious, and I am sure to tell Gavi this. And, of course, I thank him too many times.

On my fifth 'thank you', he says, "You're welcome, Ember. You don't have to keep saying it over and over, you know."

"I know... I'm just really glad you did this for... us."

He smiles. "It is the most I could do, after not going to the bar because I was tired and of a stupid cramped leg. I missed that time I could have spent with you. So I wanted to make up for it. You know?"

I nod. "I am so glad we're here. Because I missed that time we could have spent together, too."

Suddenly, he puts his lighter, larger hand on top of my slimmer, smaller, darker hand, which is sitting on the table. I stare at our fingers. So different there together. His fingernails are cut short, while mine are long and painted light pink. He has one silver band on his middle finger, while I have six sparkly and golden rings over my fingers. We don't entwine fingers. We just sit there- his hand on top of mine.

And our eyes meet. Our brown eyes. His softer, warmer, lighter, than mine, which are clearly brown, but duller, and darker. He opens his mouth just slightly, and I'm just waiting for the words to come out of them. I anticipate these words so much, I prepare myself to feel his lips on mine, finally, for the first time. He has to say them. His eyes say them. So does the gentleness of that hand. So does everything else about him when he simply looks at me.

That open mouth. I know he's about to tell me he loves me. I can imagine these words coming from his mouth in his lower voice, Ember, I love you. 

And then his loving eyes glance away, down. His mouth shuts. He stops. He says nothing.

And in that moment, it is too  much. Why won't he just fricking say it?! Am I really imagining the feelings between us?! What is this?!

I, years ago, pledged to never, ever cry over a boy. Well, this boy has already made me cry over him. And by the feeling of a lump in my throat and the watering in my eyes, I have this feeling that he is about to make me cry over him once again.

This time, though, I'm sitting right in front of him. And I don't have Pedri's shoulder to cry on.

So I suddenly stand up. I can't let him see me crying. Because then I'd have to explain to him. And if he doesn't love me, then... 

I pull my hand out from underneath his. I turn and stand up, pulling the door open with a swift motion and slamming it behind me. Right before I leave the room, I hear his voice say in confusion and surprise, "Ember, what's wrong?"

What's wrong, Gavi?! Quite honestly, you are! You're the problem! You act like you want to date me, and then you stress how close friends we are! You hold my hand, and you look at me with such love, and then you say nothing! Like, what the freaking hell?!

I hear him walk out as well, and I'm sure he took the second to put on his hat, glasses, and mask. I, feeling the need to get away from him, enter the women's bathroom and let the swinging door slam shut. As it slams, I hear him say, "Wait, Ember, what happened? Was it something I said?"

No, Gavi, it's not something you said. It's something you didn't say. I open a stall and close it behind me, leaning against the wall, crying my eyes out. Crying my eyes out over a boy.

Here I go, crying over a boy, once again.

After I've dried my face up, about fifteen minutes later, and calmed down, I assume Gavi has left by now. I sigh, walking out of the women's bathroom.

He stands there. I can't see his facial expression, and I don't want to imagine what it might be under his disguise.

He stood, waiting there, for me, for fifteen minutes, straight. He says, sounding concerned and a bit urgent, "Ember, are you okay?"

But I don't make eye contact with him. I push passed him, letting our shoulders bump, but not in the gentle way, like we were before. Hard. I'm telling him to get the heck out of my way. Out of my brain. Out of my heart.

I storm outside, and I get weird looks. I tried to clean up my mascara stained face in the bathroom, but I'm aware that I didn't do a very good job. I don't care, though. I just need to get away.

Gavi doesn't follow me outside. I walk out onto the street, and get myself a cab, to drive me away, back to my hotel room.

I know I can't avoid him for very long.

After all, I need him, don't I?

see you later // Pablo GaviWhere stories live. Discover now