Chapter Twenty-One
Did I mention I hate tears? Hold heart, insert arrow… blood, blood, lots of freaking blood. —Gabe H.
Gabe
And the asshole of the year award goes to… ding ding ding! We have a winner.
I was caught between wanting to comfort her and wanting to tell her to suck in her damn tears. There were bigger things in the world going on than her own insecurities.
But a part of me — you know the human part of my heart that was still beating, though just barely — clenched at the thought that I’d made her cry over my rash actions and words.
It wasn’t that I didn’t feel bad or that I didn’t want to apologize.
But I was so sick of lying that the only option would be to tell her the truth, and telling her the truth — although it would take a hell of a lot off my chest — would just make things worse.
So I hugged her.
Only that had been an even worse idea, because my entire body had jolted at our touch.
The girl was gorgeous. Her honey brown hair had actually smelled like honey, and her bright blue eyes were even prettier when she was crying.
Hell.
I groaned into my hands.
“Gabe?” Princess tried whispering, but her whisper was like a freaking yell. “What’s wrong?” They’d started her breathing treatments, so she had one of those oxygen things in her nose, so she could still talk, or in her case, yell like a lunatic.
With a heavy sigh, I lowered my hands and met her gaze. “Nothing, just… tired.”
“Me too.” She sighed. “I’m always tired.”
“Really?” I went on full alert, using my eyes to examine her face or body for any hint of that her condition had worsened. She was still pale, she was still coughing, but the oxygen seemed to be helping. “Are you feeling okay, Princess?”
“Look!” Her eyes rolled away from me to the screen. “They’re singing again!”
“Yeah.” I continued holding her hand.
The metal doors behind me clicked shut, and just like that I knew Saylor was back in the room. I could smell her now. Her scent was on me, I knew it like the back of my hand.
I was in so much trouble.
A whiff of honey-filled air hit me as she took a seat beside me and folded her arms across her chest.
We sat that way.
In complete silence, while the movie played.
When it ended, she stood, walked to the front of the room and started talking like she hadn’t just had a emotional breakdown. The good news? None of the residents would care. Half wouldn’t even remember — hell, half forgot their own names, so she was safe.
“The three songs we’re going to be learning from The Music Man are, Shipoopi—”
Next to me, Princess fell into a fit of giggles. I smiled at her obvious interest in the name of the song, and looked back to the front of the room.
Saylor’s eyes met mine.
But she didn’t shy away.
She stared right freaking through me.
My heart started hammering against my chest. I refused to look away; instead, I kept my smile in place and directed it at her.
Because she deserved more.
She was here for the same reason I was… to make Princess laugh, to bring about joy in a world full of hate and darkness.
And for that reason — I owed her my respect, even if it meant I had to be careful as hell around her.
Saylor’s gaze finally fell away from mine as she named the next two songs and then dismissed everyone.
“Parker!” Princess shouted. Funny because she hadn’t full named me in a really long time. Usually it was just Park or that funny guy with the guitar.
“Hmm?” My knees cracked as I leaned down to eye level.
“Parker?” Saylor’s voice said behind me. “But I thought your name was Gabe—”
“No!” Princess started thrashing. “I hate that name! That’s a stranger’s name. His name’s Parker! P-parker!” Tears fell down her face as her mouth dropped open. A shriek fell between her lips as she continued thrashing.
Muttering a curse, I ran to grab the guitar and quickly sat down next to her and started playing.
Once I strummed the first few chords of our song, Princess stopped yelling and closed her eyes.
“Beautiful girl,” I sang, “My girl, beautiful girl. Don’t let me be lonely without you in my world.”
I strummed the last few chords.
Complete silence greeted me.
The residents were used to her outbursts and had the songs memorized just as well as I did, but it was my voice that did it. We even tried a recording once — didn’t work.
“That makes me happy.” Princess giggled. “Park, remember when we danced?”
“Yeah.” Visions of her dancing in front of me on two legs that worked flooded my mind until I wanted to bang my head against the wall. “You were always so much better than me.”
“Hmm.” She sighed.
The doors to the room opened and Martha strolled in.
“Hey, Princess, why don’t you and Martha go grab a snack while I talk to Saylor for a bit.”
“Okay!” Princess yelled. “And Saylor, his name’s Parker, not Gabe.”
“Got it,” Saylor said quickly. “Thanks for your help, Princess.”
“It’s okay,” she said, surprising me. “You didn’t know. But now you know, so you’ll call him Park.”
I didn’t want her calling me Park.
It was too much.
Too close.
“Yup!” Saylor’s voice had a cheerful edge. “I’ll call him Park, though it sounds like he’s a car.”
Princess laughed as Martha wheeled her off.
When Princess was out of earshot I grabbed Saylor’s arm and took her out the doors on the opposite end of the room — the ones that lead outside to the water. “Let’s take a walk.”