Page 94 of Bad at Love

He doesn’t answer right away, but goes to his dresser to check his tie that we both know is already as straight as it’s going to be.

“Gabriel,” I say, getting up and going to him. “What is wrong?”

He sighs, ducking his head, so I slide between him and the dresser and grab his chin to make him look at me.

“Talk to me,” I urge softly.

He searches my eyes before saying, “What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” I ask carefully.

“Us. This. I’m—confused. I mean, you act like we’re together by holding my hand and introducing me to your friends, but when you get upset, you snap at me and push me away. I’m not trying to be clingy or weird about this, but I need to know, very clearly, what is going on between us. I can’t keep wondering and questioning your every move.”

He’s out of breath when he’s done with his rant, and I’m left speechless.

“Oh…”

I should say more. That’s the right thing to do, and it’s only fair. But I’m not sure where to start. I’m just as confused about this as he is. I like everything that we’re doing, and I like him, but I’m not trying to settle down. That’s never been in the future for me.

“I mean, are you even going to tell me what happened yesterday?” he continues.

“Nothing happened yesterday,” I answer with a shrug.

“You’re lying, Storm. You were upset about something about your mother. And—”

He snaps his mouth shut. I narrow my eyes because he was going to say something, but stopped himself. We agreed to communicate, so why, now, is he stopping himself from saying something?

“Andwhat?” He holds my gaze, not saying a word. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Just tell me, Gabriel.”

He shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and says, “I know you lied to me about where your mother lives.”

Hewhat?

“What, are you following me? Checking up on me?” I ask, trying to keep my anger in check. My blood is boiling, my skin hot. My mother never even kept tabs on me, but he is? I’m a grown man, and so is he. Meaning he should know this is unacceptable.

He scoffs, giving me a look like I’m an idiot—also maybe he’s a little offended. “No, Storm, I’m not. I respect your privacy, actually.”

“Then how do you know that? You’d only know if you were following me,” I go on. “Is that what you’re doing? You’re like stalking me or something?”

The look on his face now can only be described as disgusted. He scoffs again, shaking his head before saying, “I know the guy who lives in that house.”Oh.“I would never follow you or break your trust by disregarding your privacy, and the fact you’d jump right to that is insulting.”

“I’m sorry—” I begin.

“I have feelings, you know. Even if I struggle to show them or don’t show them the way other people do, theyarethere, I assure you.”

He turns on his heel and leaves his room. I stand there, dumbfounded over what just happened until the front door closes and I realize whatactuallyhappened.

Gabe just stood up for himself. I was treating him the way his family treated him, and he stood up to me, without having to be told. As much as my chest hurts over that little argument, I couldn’t be more fucking proud.

I spend the day moping around, trying to decide how to handle this situation with my mother’s house and, of course, Gabriel.

He deserves a clear answer. Gabriel was brave enough to ask the question, so he should get an honest response. That’s what I’ve been asking of him this whole time. He’s doing his part, but… I can’t give him an answer. I’m not sure I have one.

I like the way things are now, and the thought of anything more has me unable to breathe. I can’t be tied down, and I refuse to be trapped by anyone. Maybe he’ll forget about the conversation, blame it on being tired or something. Then we cancontinue on with how things are going and celebrate when our video blows up. I owe him an explanation for what’s going on with my mom, but I’m nowhere near ready to talk about that yet. Honestly, don’t know which is worse. Talking to him about us or my mother. Both make me ill.

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