The Romantics(26)

Gael scoffed. “Well, it’s not my fault family movie night is over. I’m not the one who decided to get divorced.”

His mom’s jaw dropped, and Piper’s chin began to shake. “They’re not divorced,” his little sister said. “They’re just living separately.” She looked like she might cry.

“I’m sorry,” Gael said, looking from Piper to his mom. “But I don’t know what to say.”

His mom knelt down to hug Piper. “Just go,” she said. “I’ll take her over to Dad’s.”

Gael nodded and headed out the door, though the prospect of seeing Cara no longer made him feel better. His family was broken. It was the honest, simple truth.

No girl was going to fix that.





after-office hours


As per usual, Cara was not outside her dorm at their agreed-upon meeting time, so Gael pulled in front of the building and let the car idle.

His eyes drifted out the window toward the students on campus.

To the couple walking hand in hand into a nearby dorm.

To the emo-looking kid bumming a cigarette from a guy in a preppy polo.

To the girl in neon-orange track pants running faster than he ever would in his life.

To his dad, following an attractive girl toward Carmichael Hall . . .

Gael whipped his head back and squinted his eyes. It was his dad, for sure, with his annoying fall knit hat and his corduroy professor jacket and a stupid smile on his face.

And the girl next to him hardly looked like she could be older than twenty-three. A grad student, maybe, but possibly even an undergrad.

Gael’s heart started to race. When the secret phone calls started, he’d toyed with the idea that his dad was cheating, but until now, he’d never really truly believed it.

But why else would he have lied about having office hours? Why in the world would he be going into one of the dorms? They were a good ten-minute walk from his dad’s office. There was no logical reason to be here.

Unless . . .

“Jesus Christ!”

A sudden knock on the car window made Gael jump. Cara was there, staring at him.

He unlocked the door robotically.

“Everything okay?” she asked as she got in the car. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Gael nodded, and then looked quickly back toward Carmichael, both afraid to see anything more and afraid of not seeing anything more.

His dad and the girl were gone.

“Are you sure?” Cara asked.

His face suddenly felt hot, and he thought he might cry, but he forced himself to smile. He forced himself not to focus on what he had just seen. He couldn’t fall apart. Not in front of the one person who hadn’t already seen him at his worst.

“Just a little tired is all,” he stammered. He shifted into drive and pulled forward before she could ask anything else.





friend-zone defense


By the time they were inside the Dean Dome, in their tiny squished seats, Gael’s primary concern was making sure Cara didn’t see that his eyes were still glassy—that he was on the verge of completely falling apart.

He couldn’t get the vision of his dad walking toward the dorm out of his mind, no matter how much he tried to distract himself with the fast-paced game in front of him.

The tallest guy on their team sunk a three-pointer, and the crowd roared, UNC’s ram mascot springing into cartwheels while a cheerleader did a back flip. Cara’s rally cry was loud, high-pitched, and long. Her enthusiasm should have been endearing, but Gael only found it grating. Cara jumped out of her seat, but he couldn’t bring himself to follow.

The opposing team grabbed the ball and was on the other end of the court in seconds.

“You okay?” Cara asked, sitting back down.

“Yeah,” Gael lied. Then he whipped his head away immediately and attempted to discreetly wipe the moisture from his eyes.

Cara either didn’t notice or decided to give him space because her gaze stayed focused on the players below. Gael was grateful for that, at least.

There was a round of squeaks against the glossy hardwood floor, and the point guard pivoted, evading the guy blocking him, and made a two-point shot for Carolina.

Gael eyed the 2009 National Championship flag that hung from the rafters of the Dean Dome. His family had had season tickets that year. Piper was practically a newborn, but they’d still managed to make it to almost every game, Gael in his little-kid jersey, shaking noisemakers like it was his job. They’d even been in the Dean Dome to watch the championship game on the Jumbotron as Carolina squashed Michigan State far away in chilly Detroit. They’d followed the crowd of students to Franklin Street, and Gael got to watch a few college kids jumping around and setting things on fire before his mom had said they really should go. The next day, his dad had pointed out that even the president of the United States was a Carolina fan. They’d gotten five copies of the Daily Tar Heel and framed one in their basement.

None of that would happen for Piper, he thought, because his family wasn’t his family anymore.

Because his dad had turned his family into something awful.

Suddenly, Gael was no longer on the brink of tears. Instead, he seethed with anger.

“Don’t you find it completely ridiculous that they have ‘Carolina’ printed on their butts?” Cara asked, breaking his train of thought.