Unexpected

Gabby the Impenetrable Fortress

"Can we talk?" The question sounds more like an apology, and somehow that irks me more than if he were to just demand an audience.

"I guess we have to." I say without looking up, scribbling incoherent sentences in my notebook as a last ditch effort to finish the assignment that's due today.

He sits beside me in his usual seat quietly, a nervous energy permeating through the invisible barrier I carefully arranged around myself this morning. Without having to look at him I can feel his itch to talk to me, accompanied with an uncertainty of how to.

"I never meant to hurt you." He starts, clearly not aware of how much I hate clichés.

"Uh huh." I'm pressing the pencil so deeply into my paper that my writing is beginning to tear into the page.

"It started as a bet, but-"

"But then you got to know me." I interrupt him, setting my pencil down to spare my notebook of any further stabbing.

"Did you really think that didn't occur to me? That that's what I care about?" I ask him without giving him any room to actually answer. "The fact that you made some corny ass bet doesn't surprise me in the slightest. No, that's very in character for the Austin I met."

I glance at him for the first time and he's staring down at the table, tense and ready to be reprimanded.

"You had so many opportunities to tell me. I probably would have been mad, sure. But I would have at least appreciated the truth, or the chance to decide if we could overcome it. Now I don't really have that, do I? How am I supposed to trust you when you've been lying to me for months? You let the team believe a bet is all I am to you- to anyone. You let them wait patiently to see if they could pass me around. That's not even mentioning the callous shit you said about me to Jasmine." My throat clenches but I push onwards, knowing what it is I need to say.

"You did nothing, because of the threat of not getting what you want. You couldn't have told me the truth, god no. What if I got angry, or wanted nothing to do with you? God forbid I get to decide what I think of the person I was about to have sex with." When I look to him again, he's staring hard at his hands, rapidly blinking back the moisture in his eyes. This only makes me angrier, because crying is my right and I refuse to let him see me do that ever again.

"That's what makes me angry. I trusted some version of you that you let me believe existed, but you haven't changed." I finish firmly, wanting so badly to lash out in some kind of way. I want to shove my notebook off of the table, throw some shit against a wall; I don't know, anything. But I won't, not here and not in front of him.

I lean back in my seat tensely with my arms crossed against my chest, unbelievably irate with the reality that I have to sit next to him today and everyday of the school week when I can hardly stand to look at him.

Of course I'd never admit it, I'm barely honest with myself even in the privacy of my mind, but it's painful to be so completely angry with someone you're still attracted to. He's beautiful, with his dark hair, light eyes, and tanned skin. He always has been, and it's always pissed me off.
Now I'm back to where I started- angry with him and with myself for the pull I feel towards him.

"You're right. That doesn't help anything, but it's the truth and I can give you that much. You're right, and I fucked up." He admits, turning his head to catch my eyes. The knot in my stomach loosens just a little at the sight of his clear eyes gazing at me past the dark swelling of his right eyelid, but I tense up in protest almost immediately. I promised myself I wouldn't let my guard down again, I can't change my mind now.

"I can't expect you to forgive me, I know that. I just hope that you can believe me when I tell you that I'm sorry. And that it was all real to me. Every second of it." He pauses, struggling with his words. His brow knits as he searches for the right words.

"I was being immature and self-destructive." He settles with, tangling a hand into his curly hair. He props his elbow up on the table and leans against his hand, looking at me wistfully.

I keep my arms crossed in front of me, trying my best to stare through him. He wants to say something else, I can feel it. But I don't know how much more I can take. A single strand of hair curls at his forehead, and I want nothing more than to take a flame thrower to it.

Senseless violence, I think. That's my way through this.

"I love you. I love you and I want to be with you. I know I have no right to say that, but I do. I'm prepared to grovel." He says, giving me a sad smile.

The knot in my stomach twists tighter and it almost physically pains me to say what comes out of my mouth next.

"Then you'll be groveling 'till the day they hand us our diplomas and I never have to look at your face again."

His eyes squeeze shut as a look of pain creases his forehead. He shakes his head, as if to shake my words out of his ears.

"I know you still love me, let me fix this. We can-"

"You must be an idiot and a narcissist if you think I have any love left for you." I bite out, feeling sick to my stomach from my own words. They're not true, and he knows it. He knows me, and that's an unfortunate truth I'll have to fight him on if there's any chance of me moving on.

"I know you're angry-" He tries again, his hazel eyes desperate to reach me.

"I need you to understand something. I don't just not love you, I hate you. Looking at you makes me fucking nauseous." I wrench my gaze away from him, unable to watch his reaction. He must know I'm saying whatever I can to push him away, and a small part of me prays that he does. I thought it would feel better to inflict the kind of pain he caused me, but I just feel crappy. The first bell hasn't even rung yet, but all I want to do is go home and curl up under my covers.

I keep my eyes trained on my notebook, and attempt to read whatever nonsense I have written as a thick silence settles between us. I successfully ended this conversation, but I almost wish he'd fight for it to continue. Anything to relieve the weight resting on my chest from the last words I said to him.

AN: this is so depressing... like... what. Ik Austin's a fucc boi but this chapter actually had me feeling kinda bad for him. Bc he's a dumb ass boy who did some dumb ass shit, but he loves his girl. His defensive, hot-tempered girl 😭

We're approaching the end, what do y'all think is gonna happen? I can tell u this much: Gabby doesn't like clichés, so don't expect a standard forgive and forget fairy tale !