Freeks(58)

Seeing them all so close together, the resemblance between them was uncanny. Gabe had his dad’s height and broad shoulders, but he had his mom’s cheekbones and wide smile.

“Caudry’s a small town, so I guess I get around a lot,” I said sheepishly, since everyone was looking at me like I was a puzzle they were trying to solve. The air was bubbling over with unasked questions.

“I guess you do,” Gabe agreed, but there was a tightness to his tone that made me realize that this was something we’d talk about later.

Della Jane cleared her throat and tugged at her ruby earring. “What, um, were the two of you planning to do tonight?”

“Mara walked over in the rain, and I was just getting her something dry to wear,” Gabe explained, as if it wasn’t obvious that the outfit I was swimming in didn’t belong to me.

“Gabe, where are your manners?” Della Jane scolded him. “Why didn’t you pick the young lady up?”

“I just wanted to go for a walk and get some air,” I said quickly. “I didn’t realize how hard it was raining until it was too late.”

“Well, if the two of you wanted to stay in tonight and avoid the weather, we could all watch a movie.” Della Jane pointed to a gaudy big-screen TV that took up a huge chunk of floor space in the sitting room adjacent to the entryway. “Selena just rented Top Gun and Weird Science from the video store.”

“Actually, I think I should probably get going home,” I said, and Gabe looked at me sharply.

Della Jane clicked her tongue. “Oh, that’s a shame,” she said in such a way that I couldn’t tell for sure if she meant it or not.

“You sure?” Julian asked. “You’re more than welcome to stay for supper, and I make a mean steak.”

“Sorry, but I’m sure,” I said. “I have to work tonight.”

“I’ll pull the car around,” Gabe offered, and he wouldn’t look at me as he went over and slipped on his tennis shoes.

While he went out to get his Mustang, he left me waiting inside with his parents, and it was feeling increasingly claustrophobic. Julian put his arm around his wife’s waist and told me about the restaurants he’d owned in New York, and Della Jane just kept a strained smile plastered on her face.

Gabe had this life that was solid and real, with a house that had been in the family for generations and married parents that loved each other and applications to NYU. He had a past, and more important, he had a future.

I was a girl with nothing more to my name than my name itself. If I were Della Jane, I wouldn’t want me dating her son either.

After awkward good-byes, I hurried into Gabe’s car, and I wasn’t surprised to see the tension had carried over. He sped out of the driveway without saying anything until we were almost to the edge of town.

“If you didn’t want to stay in with my parents, I totally get that,” he said finally. “But you didn’t have to leave. It’s not even seven yet.”

“I know, but I do need to get back. There’s a lot going on at the carnival,” I said, and that wasn’t completely a lie, and my mom would be happy that I was back so early.

“Like what?” Gabe asked, sounding exasperated. “You tell me hardly anything about your life and what’s going on. Like how you met both my parents.”

“I didn’t know they were your parents,” I corrected him icily. “They didn’t exactly introduce themselves and say, ‘Oh, by the way, in case you decide to date Gabe, I’m just letting you know that he’s my son.’”

Della Jane hadn’t even given me her last name—and while I had suspected that Julian might be related to him, there hadn’t really been an organic way to bring it up in the two minutes we’d spoken.

“Fair enough,” he allowed, and his hands relaxed slightly from how tight they’d been gripping the steering wheel. “But you’ve apparently been going on all these adventures around Caudry.” He sighed. “I know you don’t have to tell me every little thing about your life, but I just feel like you’re keeping so much from me, and I don’t know why.”

There wasn’t some big awful reason. I just hadn’t wanted to tell him about going to the police station to try to report that my friend may or may not be missing, or about visiting a former coworker and probable drug addict who believed that this town had a supernatural pall over it.

Neither of these stories was glamorous or normal or the kind of thing you tell someone on a first date.

We’d reached the carnival parking lot, and he pulled over as rain pattered down on the Mustang. He turned to look at me, waiting for me to explain myself or just say anything.

I stared down at my hands, blinking back tears, and finally said, “I was embarrassed, okay?”

“Embarrassed?” Gabe reached out and took my hands in his. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me. If I’ve done anything to make you feel ashamed about any part of your life—”

“You don’t get it.” I shook my head. “We only have a week together, so I just wanted to keep us nice and shiny and separate from all the crap in my life that never quite works.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute. He just held my hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb, and stared down at his lap.