The message lights up my phone, and my heart thuds so loud I think everyone in the hall can hear it. My fingers tremble as I read the text from Gabe.
[Hey]
[Sup] I replied, only because it gave me something to do other than stress over the fact that I am not home and was forced by my parents to come back to campus.
"It was just a dream, honey. We're good, I promise," my father had insisted that either I go back to campus, or they would have me hospitalized. It was a joke, but I knew when I was hitting a brick wall. How was Dad to know what I knew? If I confided in him- he really would send me to an asylum- or whatever they called the place for loonies.
[Everything okay?]
No, I'm not okay. How could I be? I've spent the last week clutching the knowledge that my mother and Avrielle's time is running out, and I can't stop it. Every moment feels like borrowed time, and I'm running out of air.
I don't think. My fingers move before I can stop myself. [Not really] Why did I send this?
[Lecturer?]
[Nah, life in general] I figured he wouldn't really have anything to say to that being he's in university and all, so I put my phone back into my pants pocket and stare back at Dan, who is chatting with Stanley and Brie.
Ping.
My breath catches. I can't explain how relieved I feel to see his concern, but the relief is quickly drowned in my panic, and I grab my phone out of my pocket. His message was [Can I save you?] and my heart fluttered.
[Can you pick me up? I really need someone right now.]
The three dots appear immediately, and then his response flashes on the screen.
[OMW]
Seeing Dan approaching me, I shake my head no, backing away.
I let out a shaky breath and head to the front when Gabe says he is fifteen minutes away, but the wait feels like an eternity. My stomach churns as I think about my parents. They refused to let me stay at home for the week, insisting I needed to focus on my studies. How could I tell them that focus was impossible? That I'm terrified?
The rumble of an approaching motorbike yanks me from my spiraling thoughts.
What the f*ck? Gabe's ride is a freaking Harley?
"Hey," he lifts the visor on the red helmet, dressed in a plain black hoodie, blue faded jeans, and sneakers. I realize he is also skipping. "You okay?" he asks again, his brow furrowed as he glances at me and reaches over, and hands me a black helmet.
"No," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper as my browns meet his gray stormy irises. My hands twist against my lap. "I- I've never been on one of these before." I am afraid to get on. Especially with the fright I am under with death looming.
"Oh. Ah, well I can call a cab." His hand drops that is holding the helmet.
"No- I'll- I need to leave now."
"Where to?" His eyes furrow. "Get on and hold onto me tightly."
"A hotel?"
The hand holding the helmet he had raised back up to hand over to me drops a bit, taken aback by my words.
"No-no," I am quick to defend myself. I mean you can drop me off there- I er, can't be home right now but I cannot stay here also."
"Something happened?" He shoves the helmet at me again and I pull it over my head. He stretches out and tightens straps then taps the set behind him. He does not push me for an answer and when I sit behind him, he turns down his visor and pulls me snuggly against his back, gripping my hands and ensuring I had a good hold on him.
I exhale a shaky breath.
He takes me to a restaurant, and during the meal, he asks me again if something happened. His expression was a concerned one, but I simply say, "Can we get a room somewhere? I can't be alone right now."
His eyes widen, and I see the questions brewing, but he doesn't ask. Instead, he nods, his voice calm. "Yeah. Sure."
The hotel room is small, clean, and mercifully quiet. I sink onto the edge of the bed, staring at the floor while Gabe drops his keys on the table and sits across from me on a chair.
"You want to talk about what's going on?" he finally asks, his tone soft.
I shake my head. "Not yet."
"Okay well, uh, should I leave?"
"No- stay- please, I just- don't want to be alone right now."
He studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Okay. I'll be here when you're ready."
"Gabe- I- I'm not having sex with you." I suddenly realized the situation I'm in. I might know Gabe and feel close to him- trust him but in his view- I am just a girl he met. Whom he took to a hotel.
"I figured you needed help. I'm not here to take advantage of you."
I glance up at him, gratitude flooding me. "Thank you," I whisper.
"But I do need to go. I'll return if you want me to, later." He picks up his keys, watching me and I nod but say he could stay with me longer and leave later.
He agrees. I lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling, while Gabe sits on the chair scrolling through his phone. I need to make a call.
Gripping my phone tightly, I dial my mom.
"Hey, sweetie," she answers cheerfully, and my chest tightens.
"Hi, Mom," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just wanted to let you know everything's fine."
"Good," she says.
"Sorry," I mumble. "Just stressed about exams."
"Well, don't overdo it," she says. "And call us if you need anything."
I nod, even though she can't see me. "I will."
Ending the call, I set the phone down and glance at Gabe. He's watching me, his expression unreadable.
"You okay?" he asks again.
I nod. "Yeah."
But I'm not.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of knocking on my door.
"Morning," he says when I open it.
"Gabe," I start, my voice shaky. "I need you to do me a favor."
He blinks at me, with a worried expression. "What is it?"
I hesitate, then step closer, gripping his shirt like my life depends on it. "Can you go to my house and talk to my dad? About anything. I don't care. Just… get him to come to something. I don't know, invite them for dinner or a barbeque or something."
His eyes widen. "What? Why?"
"Please," I beg, my voice cracking. "Just trust me."
He hesitates, his brows furrowing as he studies me. "You're scaring me, Meg. What's going on?"
"I can't explain right now," I say, my eyes pleading. "But I need you to do this. Please."
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. I'll do it."
Relief washes over me, and I nod. "Thank you."
When he returns later that day, he looks bemused.
"I talked to your dad," he says, dropping into the chair. "He agreed to come over Thursday for a barbeque. My place. I hope that's okay."
"That's perfect," I say, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
"Now, will you tell me what's going on?" he asks, leaning forward.
I hesitate, then shake my head. "Not yet."
He exhales sharply, leaning back. "You're lucky I like you, Meg."
My chest tightens at his words. If only he knew how much I need him right now. But I can't tell him. Not yet.