You Before Me (27 page)

“Because you're a goody-two shoes who
can't go up against his mother. Viv will come get me. Go enjoy your
day with your family.”

“Don't be ridiculous. I'm taking you
home.” He grabs my elbow and pulls me to his car. “And you're going
to calm down, so I can talk to you,” he says, ushering me into the
passenger seat before slamming the door.

I don't want to be around him, but if
he needs closure, then he can have it. Let him say whatever he
wants. It doesn't matter because this was a terrible idea. Another
massive mistake. Gabe backs out, putting more force on the gas than
necessary. Once we're on the road, he starts talking.

“Look, I didn't say anything because I
was shocked by what my mom said. I've never seen her be so critical
before, so I couldn't believe it. You don't need to be pissed at me
because I was five seconds away from defending you before you went
and made a fool of yourself.”

“You've got to be kidding
me! Standing up for myself was me being a fool? What the hell did
you expect to happen, Gabe? Look at me! Do you not remember what
she said when she came over? Do you not remember what my own damn
parents are like? I told you from the start that I am not
meet-the-parents material, and there's your proof. I want to
believe you, I really do, but I don't think you would have said
anything to her. That's your mother, and you said so yourself that
her opinion matters to you. There's her stupid, fucking opinion
from hell. I don't think for a second that you would go against
your
family
.”

My rant lasted all the way to my
apartment, and I couldn't be happier to be here. I quickly get out
of the car, briskly walking towards the building.

“She's being overprotective,” Gabe
tries to defend from behind me.

“You're twenty-five! Do
you seriously need your mother to look out for you? To protect you
from
me
? Because
that's what you're saying.” I shove the key into my door and find
that it's not locked. Oh, hell no. Not today. Sure enough, my
parents are inside, dragging an annoyed and frustrated groan from
me. “Why the hell are y'all here? Can't y'all ever call before you
come?”

“Quit being so dramatic, Ryan. It's
Thanksgiving. You told us you were staying here, so we came to tell
you that we've picked a degree for you,” her mother says. “We
didn't know that you would be out with him.”

“I'm seriously not in the mood for
this, Mom. Please come back another day.”

“Ryan,” my dad speaks up. “This is our
last day in town. We rather not waste time with your silly, girly
tantrums.”

What an ass! I walk in front of where
they are sitting on my couch, fold my arms over my chest, and glare
at them. “Well, waste no more time, because I'm majoring in
art.”

Mom's mouth hangs open. “Where did
that even come from? You can't be serious, Ryan. That's a terrible
decision. We should have never left you here alone because you
obviously can't make good, reasonable decisions. Although, I guess
we should have expected as much.”

“Stop! Just stop!” I erupt
with long overdue fury, finally letting it loose. This is not the
day for them to rain down their shit on me after what I just went
through with Gabe. “I'm so tired of hearing how nothing I do is
good enough. What the hell do you expect me to do, Mom? I have been
the best I can possibly be for you, and that bit of fucking effort
means nothing to neither of you!” I point back and forth between my
parents. “Because of you, I don't have a fucking clue about what I
want to do with
my
life because I've been busy trying to please
you
and make
you
proud. It's
pointless because you don't give a damn. You set me up for failure
with your ridiculous expectations.

“I'm sorry I'm not a boy.
I'm sorry I don't play football and baseball or any other boy
sport. I'm sorry I can't walk in Dad's footsteps. I'm sorry I don't
wear suits and care about business. I'm sorry I didn't ask for a
sports car. I'm sorry I like shopping. I'm sorry tradition says
you'll pay for a wedding. I'm sorry father-daughter dances sound so
fucking horrible. I'm sorry pink disgusts you. I'm sorry that you
think I'm a quitter because nothing I liked growing up was worth
'wasting' your precious money on or because you insisted I do the
impossible. I'm sorry that because of the stupid fact I'm a damn
girl that I can't do anything right. I'm sorry my absolute
best
is shit to you, and
that I can't do what's expected of me because you expect
more
, which isn't even
possible! I'm sorry that all your dreams died with me.

“But you know what? I don't care
anymore! Fuck you both.” I take a deep breath, noticing the stunned
faces in the room. “Fuck you too, Gabe. Now, if you don't mind, all
of you can go to hell and get out of my apartment!”

The pure rage runs through me, and my
hands are aching to do something. I walk into my kitchen, ignoring
them and hoping they'll just leave. My hip bumps into the counter,
and I scream in frustration, yanking open the dishwasher. Yes.
Breaking something will release some of this from me. I grab a
glass plate, hold it over my head, and then throw it down on the
floor. A frantic energy buzzes through me with a touch of
excitement. God, that felt good.

I pull out the top rack, picking up
the first glass thing I find. A bowl. It crashes to the floor,
shattering to pieces, and mixing with the remnants of the plate.
Faintly, I hear my mother shouting for me to stop, but the sound of
her voice fuels me to do it again, but with a cup this time. When I
lift a bowl above my head, hands grab my wrists.

“Stop it, Ryan,” Gabe says quietly
from behind me.

“Let me go!” I try to twist my wrists
free, but his grip is too strong.

“No. You need to stop.”

His soft tone breaks through my anger.
“Fine,” I mutter. He takes the bowl from my hands. “Everyone needs
to leave. Now.” I turn to face my parents, but I'm speaking to Gabe
as well. “Either y'all leave or I will.”

My parents actually look terrified by
my outburst and fit of rage. They nod solemnly before walking out,
leaving only Gabe for me to get rid of.

“Ryan,” he starts.

“No, Gabe,” I interrupt quietly,
facing him completely now. With as much strength as I can muster, I
continue, “I've been worrying about letting you down and not
meeting your and your family's expectations. Not once did I
consider that our roles would reverse, and you would be the one to
let me down.” His mouth parts to speak, but nothing comes and I
finish, “Just go home. I don't want to deal with anything yet, and
I need to clean up. Please go.”

He closes this mouth, nods
reluctantly, and then he's gone too. Part of me wishes Gabe
wouldn't listen to me. That he would make me listen, but I can't
blame him for leaving when I asked him to go. It wouldn't be right
to expect two opposite behaviors from him, and in the end, I'm more
grateful that he is giving me space than staying. I stare at what
remains of my dishes. This day has gone to hell in a hand basket,
that's for sure. I leave the mess of broken glass on my floor. Once
I lock my door, I go to my room, texting Viv that I've gotten
terribly sick and can't go shopping tomorrow. She's with her
family, so I know it may be awhile before she responds. I hook my
phone up to the speakers, turning on my rock playlist, and flop
onto my bed.

I can't believe that I completely
broke down, not only in front of my parents, but Gabe too. I don't
know why I care though. He doesn't. He couldn't even defend me to
his mother. This has to be the worst day of my life. While I lay,
listening to “Crazy Bitch”, I realize that staying here probably
isn't a good idea. Viv has a key, my parents have a key, and Gabe
knows that he can find me here if he decides to come back to talk
to me.

Getting up, I start packing some bags.
I don't want to see anyone and the only way to make sure that
happens is to go stay somewhere else. So I shove some clothes and
other necessities into a bag, grab my other things, and leave for a
hotel downtown. It takes a couple stops to find a hotel with a
vacancy, but I do. A few calls from Gabe and texts from Viv filter
in, so I turn off my phone.

The relentless thoughts continue to
plague my mind. I stuff my face with desserts from room service
while I think. I probably ruined things with Gabe if he was telling
the truth about how he would have defended me to his mother. The
fiasco with my parents doesn't even bother me. Not in comparison to
things with Gabe. My parents aren't ever going anywhere. There is
no guarantee that I'm going to have Gabe in my life at all, much
less for forever. Not that I can say I want that. Picking a major
freaked me out. I doubt I could say I knew for sure that I wanted
Gabe.

Once again, I find myself being pulled
in a million different directions, it seems. The art museum and
that fire painting come to mind. I look up their hours online and
find that they are open tomorrow. Maybe that will make all this
shit go away for a little while.

Gabe

I storm back to my parents' house
after leaving Ryan's. Leaving her alone was the last thing I wanted
to do, but I didn't want to make things worse. If she needs time,
I'll give her some. But not for long because now, I do need to
swoop in like Prince Charming and fix this mess. When Ryan told me
that I let her down, I couldn't find words to defend myself. As
soon as the words left her mouth, I realized that was my fear with
Ryan, and that it had come true. I let her down and in the worst
way possible. I disappointed her. I failed to meet her
expectations. A couple seconds of silence and my mother made me
hurt her. She expected more, and that's exactly what she
deserved.

Right now, I need to find out what my
mother was thinking when she opened her mouth. If she was thinking
at all. Things appear to have continued relatively normally. The
guys are in the living room, watching TV, and the girls are
cleaning up in the kitchen. The door slams loudly behind me,
causing them to look at me.

“Gabriel,” my father starts with a
small warning in his voice.

I ignore him and burst through the
swinging door to the kitchen. Everything halts as the women turn to
look at me. My eyes find my mother's. I wasn't lying when I told
Ryan that I was shocked by what she said. She's never been so hard
on a girl before. That wasn't how the day was supposed to go. Not
in the least. I have to find out what in the world
happened.

“I would like to speak with you,” I
say calmly.

Mom nods, and wordlessly the others
leave the room. “Gabriel,” she begins.

“What
was
that?” I harshly ask, my hands
clenching in fists at my sides. Now that I'm back here, I'm
pissed.

“I'm sorry-”

“You should be! Ryan has been worrying
ever since I asked her to come here. I told her she had nothing to
worry about, and you go and say that she's a rich brat wanting me
to take care of her?! Where did you even get that impression, Mom?
When have I ever said something like that about Ryan?”

She wrings her hands together. I've
never spoken to my mother this way, but then again, I've never had
a reason. “You didn't. I was out of line, I know, but I was worried
about you overlooking signs that show she's no good for you. You've
done it before, and she's young-”

“I don't care, Mom!” I
interrupt, irritated that she's still on that. “There's nothing
wrong with Ryan! Not her age, her tattoos, or her personality.” I
take a deep breath to calm my anger. “She is amazing, and there's a
lot you don't know about her because I haven't told you. There's no
way for me to explain how beautiful a person Ryan is without
telling you everything about her, but I shouldn't have to do that.
I asked you not to judge, Mom. I asked you to ignore what you saw
and get to know
her
. You went into that dinner with the intentions to grill her
until you found a reason to doubt me. And now, she doesn't want me
near her.

“I love you, Mom, but you
have to stop. You care and want to protect me, and I get that. But
I learned from my mistakes, and I'm twenty-five! I can take care of
myself. You can't ruin my relationship just because you have this
absurd idea that Ryan isn't a good person.
I'm
in a relationship with her, not
you! An open mind, so you could get to know her is all I asked for,
Mom. Instead, you completely overstepped, jumped to conclusions,
and didn't treat Ryan anywhere near to how she deserved to be
treated.”

“Gabriel,” my father says from behind
me, interrupting my rant.

With another deep breath, I try to
tone down my words one last time. “Ryan isn't like anyone I've ever
dated before. You should have trusted my judgment. Even if you
didn't, you still shouldn't have said those things because now, I
have to go fix what you've broken.”

Turning around, I brush past my father
and leave before anything else could be said. I'm not in the mood
to be around everyone any longer or hear an apology from Mom. What
I really want is to go check on Ryan, but I go on to my house. She
probably needs more time to cool down, and I most definitely do not
want to interrupt and cause her to need even more time. When I get
home, I shower and then lay down on the couch to watch
TV.