Breaking Rules

by Tracie Puckett

  Eleven

  “Excuse me, were you ever planning to tell me about Gabe, or were you hoping to keep that little love affair a secret for the next ten years?”

  Bailey’s voice blazed through me like fire. Not now… please! As if all of Gabe’s questions on the street earlier hadn’t been enough, now I had to deal with my sister, too? She just had to bust through my bedroom door as I was settling in for bed? All I wanted was some sleep. I needed a break from reality, and the last thing I wanted was to think about him for another second.

  “Tell you what?” I asked, turning over in bed to set my alarm.

  “Gabe came here looking for you earlier,” she said, leaning in the doorway. “And then Jones called and said that he showed up at the bakery.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “What’s going on with you two?” she asked. “Jones said you went all dopey-eyed and nervous the moment Gabe walked in the door. He said you left together and that you hadn’t come back before he and Julia had to lock up and leave.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “My point is that you got really defensive last weekend when you thought we were attacking Gabe,” she said. “You were being overly sensitive, which isn’t like you at all. And then you went on this whole, big spiel about how you love RI, and you even mentioned Gabe by name when you told me you’d made new friends.”

  “And your point is what, again?”

  “You like him,” she said. “Like… like-like him. And you’re being all rude and distant because you think it’s, like, some uber-sin that he gets you all hot and bothered.”

  “Oh for the love of God.” I sat up and stared at my sister, and she finally took a step forward into the bedroom. She crawled up on the corner of my bed and tucked her feet beneath her.

  “It’s not going to do you any good to keep it all bottled up,” she said.

  “Well, now you just sound like him.”

  “Tell me about him,” she said, sounding genuinely intrigued. “Besides the fact that he’s kinda cute.”

  “Kind of cute?” I asked. “Come on, Bailey. You’re kidding, right?”

  “Okay,” she said. “He’s gorgeous. But that’s never mattered to you before. You’ve been around hot guys your entire life. So why him? What makes this guy so special?”

  “You mean besides the fact that he gets me all hot and bothered?” I asked, and she cracked an immediate smile. “He doesn’t, by the way. It’s not like that at all. If anything, he just gets me all nervous and flustered.”

  “Yeah?”

  I could hear the surprise in her tone; Bailey knew me better than anyone, so she knew that even being nervous and flustered around a guy was a pretty big development for me.

  “Gabe is kind and compassionate,” I said. “He’s humble, and he’s sweet. He’s so warm and welcoming, and it’s endearing. His smile is contagious, and it’s kind of dorky in its own right. And when Gabe laughs, when he’s truly amused by something, it’s just captivating.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think it’s just something that he’s amused by; I think Gabe is amused by you,” Bailey said. “I think that’s why you see this side of him that nobody else seems to see. Jones knew Gabe back when, don’t forget. And when he called, he was baffled by how much Gabe had changed since high school; not only did he look different, but he was almost a different person entirely. He said he’s never seen a guy watch a girl the way Gabe watched you.”

  “That’s bogus.”

  “When he showed up here tonight looking for you, I answered the door and didn’t say one word to him.”

  “Okay?”

  “I simply opened the door and looked at him,” she said. “And he immediately introduced himself, asked if you were home, and didn’t seem to bat an eye twice at the fact that I could’ve been you standing there at the door.”

  “He knows we’re twins,” I said. “He knows you’re my sister.”

  “But how many times have we been mistaken for each other over the years? Only Dad has ever been able to tell us apart at first glance. Most people have to talk to us for a few minutes before they can tell a difference. Gabe just knew.”

  “That’s great, Bailey, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “It means he likes you, Mandy. He knows you. I mean, even Jones can’t tell us apart half the time, don’t forget,” she said. “You have no idea how many times he’s shown up here asking for me when it was me answering the door. Gabe didn’t hesitate for a second, and that does mean something.”

  Though I tried to pretend that it didn’t warm my heart to hear her say those things, I knew I couldn’t hide the giddiness in my expression. Bailey was right; no one besides our father (even our own mother) could tell us apart at first glance, and yet Gabe had been able to?

  I thought back to the conversation I had with him earlier on the street.

  He listened to me, talked with me. He came all the way from Desden just to check on me. And what was up with the way he kissed my hand? Was that just Gabe’s way of saying that the feelings were mutual? Sure. Of course, that was the easy, obvious answer. But maybe I’d simply read into something and let Bailey’s influence cloud my view of reality.

  “I wouldn’t have sent any random guy to track you down at work, you know that right?” Bailey asked. “I only told him where he could find you because he told me that he’d been here last night, and you were really upset. He drove down from Desden just to check on you. I couldn’t send him away; anyone willing to make that kind of drive just to check on someone has to at least kind of like the person they’re coming to see.”

  “Okay, so what, Bailey?” I asked. “Even if Gabe does like me—and I’m not saying that he does—what does it matter? We’re probably going to leave within the next month, Gabe’s not planning to stick around much longer himself, and that just makes things harder than they have to be.”

  “Whether or not we actually leave,” Bailey said, sounding as though she might have a reason to doubt that we would, “it’s not going to change the fact that you like him. If you like him now, you’ll still like him when we land in California. But if you don’t tell him, or at least act on your feelings, you’ll never actually know how he feels. And do you really want to leave Sugar Creek not knowing? Do you really want your memories of this place to be riddled with regrets?” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Do you really want to look back at our time here and feel those same, distant, hurtful feelings you have when you think of Mom and everyone we left back in LA?”

  Of course that’s not what I wanted. But telling Gabe how I felt—that I liked him, and I didn’t really know why—that was a risk. What if he laughed in my face? What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if he watched me with pity as I walked away, feeling nothing but idiotic for actually spewing my guts and spilling my heart?

  Maybe Gabe was just a nice guy. Maybe he didn’t like me at all. And if he didn’t like me, and Bailey and I had both read way too far into his actions and words, I’d make a complete idiot of myself.

  But on the other hand, if Gabe did return my feelings and I never told him how I felt… would I regret keeping it to myself?