Page 5 of Gabriel's Album

“God, that’s depressing.” I look at her and wait until our gazes meet before continuing my line of thought. “That won’t happen to you. I’ve known you for ten minutes, and already I can tell that you’re as smart as you are beautiful—have some faith in yourself.”

She blushes again but keeps my gaze this time. I love looking into her eyes. Their brilliant emerald color is unusual, and I find her fascinating.

“That doesn’t stop me worrying that I’m going to make a big mistake.”

“Well, for a start, you’re thinking about it. The people who have that life are the ones who never gave it a second thought. They took whatever came along and ran with it. In all fairness, you can’t spend your entire life wondering what’s behind door number three, but if you take the time to look when you have the chance, you might be pleasantly surprised.”

She frowns at me and says, “That’s easy for you to say, isn’t it? You knew what you wanted from your life, and you got it. Why would you bother with door number three?”

“I didn’t get where I am without a lot of hard work, Ariana.” I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I also had a lot of knock-backs, and there were times when I thought it would be easier to quit than to keep beating my head against a brick wall.”

I can’t help thinking about the multiple times that Cruise Control had almost gone our separate ways. The times we'd struggled to pay rent and keep a roof above our heads.

“What kept you going?”

“I was passionate about my music and what I wanted to do with it,” I answer. As always, I’m grateful that, at any given time, there was one of the four of us that convinced the others to keep going.

“Now we reach the crux of the matter. I’m not passionate about anything.”

“Not about anything at all?” I can’t resist teasing her.

God, I hope she’s passionate about sex.

“Well, nothing I can do as a career anyway,” she tells me.

“There’s something, though, isn’t there?” I can hear it in her voice, and I search her face, looking for an answer. “I can tell there’s something that you would love to do for a living.”

“If you must know, I’ve always loved creative writing, but it’s a hard market to break into, and getting published is nigh on impossible,” she sighs.

“You need to have more faith in yourself.”

I find myself wanting to read something she’s written. Maybe she’s terrible, but I feel like she’s been well-spoken so far, and I wonder what sort of things she writes about.

“I wish I could, but I’m practical if nothing else. I’ll probably end up putting my degree to good use in some boring office job. That’s life for most of us, Gabriel.”

My name coming from her lips is glorious, but I can tell that she still feels like I’m some sort of fantasy creature. I need more than anything for her to see me as the normal human being that I am.

“You can call me Gabe.”

The words fall from my lips before I can stop them, and I’m surprised to hear them. Only my closest family members ever call me that, certainly not near-strangers that I’ve only just met.

I manage to finish what I was saying, but only just. “I hope for your sake that you’re wrong.”

“Okay, Gabe. Anyway, this conversation is getting depressing. How about this weather?”

The immediate closeness that I feel from hearing her use my nickname is soothing. I am more than okay with this woman calling me ‘Gabe.’

“It’s great weather. I could go for a swim, actually.” I laugh as I say it.

“Too bad neither of us have swimsuits.”

My head snaps around to face her, and she blushes again.

“That is not your invitation to say ‘why don’t we just go nude?’ by the way!” she clarifies.

“I would never!” I laugh and pretend to be outraged. Though, now that she’s said it, I wouldn’t mind swimming naked with her. Instead, I offer, “I was merely going to suggest that unless you’re particularly attached to that dress, there’s no reason that we couldn’t swim in what we’re wearing.”

I wait for her to answer. Will she say yes? I can sense her hesitation, and I’m curious to see how far she will push herself with me. Without a word of warning, she stands up from where she’s sitting and walks to the edge of the pool. Ariana raises her arms above her head and executes a dive into the water, leaving me sitting in my deck chair.

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