Page 5 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me
He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and strode to the bar where he asked Sean if he had any whiskey backthere. He downed two shots in quick succession and slammed the glass on the bar while Annika and I looked on.
“An assholeandan alcoholic. Funny how musicians always look so much smaller when they’re not on the stage,” I mused. I made sure to say it loud enough for him to hear too. Because yes, I was just that petty.
Annika elbowed me in the ribs and mouthed,Be nice.
I held up my hands.I didn’t start this.Your loser boyfriend did.
Gabriel turned from the bar, ran his hand through his hair and took a few deep breaths before smiling at Annika and completely ignoring me.
“Let’s go to the Kiev,” he said, adding that he was starving as he ushered Annika out the door.
I trailed them to the sidewalk, poised to leave. “I’ll see you later, Annika. I need to get home.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder then spun and strode away.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Annika grabbed my arm and yanked me in the opposite direction. “You’re coming with us.”
“Nope. No way.” I didn’t want to be subjected to another minute of that asshole’s bad attitude. “I’m going home.”
We argued about it, and I made a million excuses, but Annika was so insistent that Gabriel felt compelled to say, “No, really. Come with us. Wewantyou to come.”
Annika flashed me a bright smile as if a few words from him solved everything. It didn’t. “Just give him a chance,” Annika pleaded.
At this point, it almost felt like mydutyto spend time with them, if only to ensure that he wasn’t being a dick to my friend.
So off to the Ukrainian diner we went.
We ordered coffee and French toast, and Annika snuggled against Gabriel’s side, her fingers idly playing with his hair while she gazed at him with awe and wonder and a smile of adulation.
I’d seen her like this before, with countless guys she’d fallen in and out of love with, so I knew that in time, her smile would fade, and she wouldn’t be so enamored. But right now, she was in the early stages of infatuation, and he was still perfect in her eyes.
With any luck, she would come to her senses quickly.
“So you and Annika went to high school together?” Gabriel asked, attempting to make polite conversation.
I sheathed my dagger and nodded. “Mmhmm. LaGuardia.”
Annika picked up the ball and ran with it, hyping me up like she was trying to sell her new boyfriend on the merits of her best friend.
“Cleo was the artsy one. She thrifted all her clothes, and her art always had important messages. She was an AIDS activist, a feminist, anti-establishment. She just did her own thing and marched to the beat of her own drum. I thought she was so cool but kind of intimidating.”
“I wasn’t intimidating. I was more of a loner. Annika was one of the popular girls. Everyone loved her.”
“I wouldn’t say I was popular. I was in a really cliquey group,” she told Gabriel. “We all walked around in tight buns and Flashdance-y clothes like a bunch of clones. It’s so embarrassing to think about that now.”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “You rocked those cropped T-shirts and leggings like nobody’s business.”
“I wish I’d been more like you instead of one of the sheep.” Annika pushed a forkful of French toast around her plate, gathering the syrup on the challah bread before exchanging her half-eaten plate with Gabriel’s empty one. “Cleo didn’t care what anyone thought.”
That wasn’t entirely true. I cared. But there were a lot of extroverts at LaGuardia, and there was so much pressure to put yourself out there and be the best that I found it overwhelming.
I didn’t say anything though. Gabriel was studying my face intently, like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. I didn’t want to give too much away.
I didn’t know what to make of this guy.
Why was he so rude when we met? Had he expected Annika’s friend to be different somehow? More colorful and vibrant and outgoing?
Sorry to disappoint you, Gabriel.
“We didn’t become friends until the end of ninth grade,” Annika continued. “One day, Cleo came to school in the coolest T-shirt, and I asked her where she got it. I wanted one just like it. Jordan almond pastels with the wordsI am, I am, I amwritten in red.”
