First Came You (Fate #0.5) (11 page)

Loss. The recurring theme of the last few months.

First it was her parents—
my
second parents. They treated me like their own even if they had their doubts about my not-so-pure feelings towards their young daughter. Their death crushed me. I couldn’t let Gabriella see it because I had to be her rock. But my heart still clenches tight with hurt when I think about Mr. and Mrs. Rossi no longer living on this planet.

Then came the slow and gradual loss of the girl who means more to me than anything. I watched as all happiness and joy disappeared from her life with that one single phone call. She hasn’t been the same. She’s so distant and cold. Not just to me—to Gina too. We talk about it all the time. How much we miss the old spunky, vibrant Gabby. How we worry about her. How we have to let her go through the grieving process in her own way.

That part’s the worst because I can’t fucking stand watching her push me away. She’s dying inside—broken—and all I want to do is piece her back together. But she won’t let me. She won’t let me do what I know I can. So I bite my tongue and take my anger out on the basketball court or the boxing bag. Seeing me angry won’t send her running back into my arms.

But tonight? This rejection is the worse loss yet.

I’ve managed to smother her—her words—by caring for her. My selfish need to keep her close and protect her have caused her to let me go. For the first time in my life, I understand the pain of a broken heart. She’s the only girl who’s ever owned it, and without her I’m not whole.

When I get back to my house, head hung low like a beaten dog, I toss the red box on the table and watch it skid in my father’s direction.

“You were right. Happy?” I growl.

Swallowing back his beer, he arches a brow. “Told you so.”

Three words I never like hearing—especially from my smug asshole of a father. Instead of pounding my fists into his gray-bearded face, I turn my back to start off to my bedroom. I can make better use of my time by packing.

My old man stops me with a gruff, patronizing laugh. “Boy, your need to fix things don’t work on the unfixable. She’s damaged goods. Don’t waste your time.”

I suck in a deep breath, and tighten my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms.
Do not deck your father, Tommy. He’s not worth it.
Turning to face him, I stare hard into his bloodshot eyes. “You don’t know shit about me and Gabriella. And I would never give up on her because she’s not a waste of anything. And maybe it seems like things are dark right now, but there’s nothing damaged about the beautiful girl she is and the incredible woman I know she’ll become.”

He takes another pull of his beer, slamming the empty bottle down on the table. “Suit yourself. Throw your life away before it’s even begun.”

Rushing toward the table, I get within inches of his face and growl, “Just because you’re unhappy with the way your life turned out doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me. Stay the hell out of it and save your misconstrued sense of wisdom to yourself. I’ve never needed it before and I don’t count on needing it ever again.”

I stalk off to my room, grumbling under my breath. He’s a misery. Has been for as long as I can remember, and the fact I’m doing things he never could at my age makes him resent his own flesh and blood and the struggles of being a lesser man. And my poor mother is just a naïve victim to his shit.

I’m over it.

I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. Away from their scrutiny, away from their disapproval. My parents never appreciated my passion for Gabriella and our future. They always told me I was being stupid with my heart by giving it away too soon. They didn’t want to accept that I’d found a kind of love in Gabriella and her family that I lacked here. My parents are decent people, just not
loving
people. The Rossi’s gave me more.

As I toss shit haphazardly into boxes, I replay so many Gabriella memories in my head with tears burning at the back of my eyes. The beginning—when we were kids and would laugh all day while we played man hunt in the scorching summer sun. The middle—when I admired Gabriella as she grew into a beautiful girl with curves that made my mouth water and lips that made my dick think things it shouldn’t be thinking at that age. The end—is this the fucking end?

I push that thought out of my head, promising myself, promising the love of my life, that no matter what she says this will not be the end.

She needs time. I have to give it to her. But I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to leave her alone. The people who love her most—not these new assholes she’s getting false reconciliation from right now—are the ones who will see her through this.

I
will see her through this.

Even if it’s from afar. As a friend. As whatever the fuck she lets me be. Either way, this is not the end of Gabriella and Tommy’s love story.

A year and a half later

“I won’t be home tonight. I’m sleeping at Olivia and Laura’s and we’re meeting Barbara for drinks.” New year, new school, new friends, new vices.

“Drinks? Any place that serves drinks to minors can’t be legit.” Gina stares me down with her hand on her hips. I hate that she’s no longer my sister.

“Okay,
Mom,
like you never drank at eighteen.”

“What
I
did
at eighteen wasn’t
your
responsibility
.
I’m in charge here and I don’t really like the shit you’ve been pulling lately. Who are these girls, anyway? I haven’t even met them and you’re sleeping over at their . . . where, exactly?”

“Olivia and Laura are in my English Lit class. They live in Williamsburg. Nice place. Ritzy and fancy. Barb is their neighbor. A little older, fun girl. We’ve hung out a few times since classes started, but you knew that because I’ve mentioned it more than once. Do you want me to bring them here so you can give them an inquisition before we get our jollies on?”

Tossing a warning glare my way, she scolds, “You won’t be getting any jollies on, regardless. I can’t stop you from doing the things teenagers do, but you have to be careful, Gabby. I trust you, but ever since you and Tommy . . .” She trails off to that land of disapproval that I despise.

“Why are you bringing this up now? It’s been forever. Old news.” I brush it off like it doesn’t bother me anymore. Unfortunately, that’s a blatant lie. I haven’t stopped thinking about the day I broke his heart for one single second. I know all I have to do is ask to have him back, but I feel like such a shit for being a coward. I needed space then, I needed a breather from his overbearing love, but that space has been filled with things that only numb the pain for snippets at a time. Tommy’s love would have healed me had I let him stick around. I’m too ashamed to admit that now. And it’s too late, anyway. I think he’s moved on. I’ve seen him talking to other girls, and he’s mentioned a few dates. My chance at a happily ever after with the boy next door was shot to shit by my stupid mistakes.

And I plan on making more of those tonight. Being a little reckless and bending the rules makes me feel alive again and I think that’s why Gina hasn’t handcuffed me to the kitchen table and grounded me until I’m thirty.

“Can I go now? Or do you want to do a strip search first?”

“Don’t be a wise ass, Gabby. And don’t think I’m a fool, either. I let the smoking slide, but you’ve obviously been testing the whole drinking scene and I’m getting a little leery here. The only reason I’m not stopping you is because I feel like I can trust you to set sensible limits. Which you have, as far as I can see, but the absolute
minute
you make me think otherwise, you can kiss the leeway goodbye.”

She doesn’t even blink. I know she means business, but she’s been so occupied with law school, her threats are mostly idle. I’ve pulled the wool over her eyes this long, what’s one more night?

“Okie dokie, you got it sister-mom.” I zip my overnight bag after making sure I’ve packed my favorite pair of black going-out pants, and then sling that and my backpack over my shoulder. “Peace out, cub scout. See you tomorrow.”

“Call me before you go out and let me know where you’re gonna be.”

“Mmmhmm,” I hum, rolling my eyes.

“I love you, you know?” This time her voice isn’t stern, it’s desperate, as if her show of affection will prevent me from going down the wrong path.

She of all people should know love ain’t gonna cure me.

“I love you too,” I concede, planting a convincing kiss on her cheek as I walk out the door.

Feeling a wee bit guilty for acting out and causing unnecessary drama for my loving sister, I vow to dial the rebel-on-a-mission down a notch tonight. As fun as it is to shake things up a bit, it’s not curing me either.

“Another beer, Gabriella?” asks the guy who’s been buying me Buds and whispering sweet nothings in my ear all night.

“Sure.” I shrug, enjoying the buzz.

When he leaves to head to the bar, Laura hooks an arm in mine and gets really close. “That dude totally likes you, Gabby. You think you’ll hook up?”

“If I were a magic eight ball the answer would be ‘most definitely.’ He’s a total hottie, I’d be an idiot to pass him up.” There’s no sense beating around the bush. I don’t mind the casual hook up. At least not anymore.
Numb. Numb. Numb.
Booze, nicotine, and strange lips. They do the trick.

I bop my head to the bass of the music, getting lost in the beat and closing my eyes as I sing the familiar lyrics.

Laura breaks me from my musical enjoyment with a tug at my arm. “Shots?”

I glance over to the line at the bar. Not too long and shots sound really good. “’Kay,” I agree, standing with sudden enthusiasm.

Once at the bar, I rejoin my beer buying suitor as Laura leans over, flashing her cleavage to get the bartender’s attention.

“What can I get you?” he asks, rather impressed by my friend’s rack.
So predictable.

“Fireball,” she orders. “The bottle. We’ve got big plans for tonight.”

The bartender lifts a brow and nods, not thinking twice about Laura’s outlandish request.

I shake my head at my friend’s overzealous behavior. One shot is never enough. It’s always the bottle with her. Trouble? Maybe. But amidst her mayhem, she always finds a way to have a good time and a good time is the only thing that keeps me sane these days.

Laura lines up three glasses for me, Taylor (now I remember his name) and herself. The bartender pours the amber colored liquid into the glasses, preparing one for himself as well. We all lift the small tumblers to our lips, and on the count of three, we sling the fiery alcohol down—shot, after shot, after shot.

After the rush takes over, I feel brave, energetic, like a freaking super hero. I dance like I’ve never danced before—sexy, uninhibited, with something to prove. Taylor’s hands grope me as though my body belongs to him. It feels good. I like it. I’m going with it.

“Hey, Gabriella, wanna get out of here?” After two songs and some serious intensity, Taylor’s hands are like a permanent part of my anatomy and I don’t mind one bit.

Breathless and very turned-on, I hook an arm around his neck and dive in for a kiss. It’s sloppy and savage, but again, it feels good. Too good to care about what a slut I must look like to the other not so drunk girls here tonight. “Sure. Let me just tell my friends we’re leaving.”