The Romantics(9)

Every day since TUB (The Ultimate Betrayal) had been a disaster. He had English with Anika, who never failed to shoot him a forced smile. Then chemistry with Mason, where they were lab partners. Gael refused to talk to either of them. In the past week, he’d barely exchanged words with anyone.

Things were even awkward with Danny. Even though he was Gael’s best friend besides Mason, the dude was gaga for Jenna, and Jenna had long been Anika’s BFF. As such, this had become the unspoken rule among them: Jenna was Team Anika, Danny was Team Jenna, and by the transitive property, Danny couldn’t be on Gael’s side.

Gael hadn’t ever thought to make friends outside of their little group. He hadn’t hedged his bets, if you will.

He’d put all his eggs in one basket.

And those eggs had decided to hook up with each other behind his back.





in which i witness the unraveling of gael and mason’s bromance


It’s not like I didn’t have a plan for Gael. I did—believe me on this one.

It’s just that certain circumstances (yes, including some of my own doing) had made my plan that much more difficult to implement. Not impossible, of course, just . . . tricky. I am very good at my job. At least I was very good at my job before this untimely oversight. But I digress.

Allow me to introduce a not-uncommon but wholly unpleasant part of the gig: the undoing of friendships. Many have ended over me, or a perception of me, and it always seems so unnecessary. I want to shake people, remind them of the time, not long before, when they were each other’s favorite.

Anyway, back to Gael and Mason. Not only was the end of their bromance devastating, it was straight-up dangerous. See, real friendship is its own kind of love, which means it comes with its own kind of heartbreak—and Gael had had more than his fair share lately.

Between his parents’ split, Anika’s betrayal, and Mason’s involvement, Gael was rocking a triple-whammy of heartbreak.

Which made the following scene, the Friday after the breakup, only that much more difficult to watch: “You can’t just sit there and not talk to me all period,” Mason said.

Gael didn’t look up. He traced over his chemistry notes in pen, eyes flitting occasionally to the eyewash station. He spent a good portion of every period plotting out chemistry-related methods to maim his former best friend.

“Uhh, dude?”

“What?” Gael snapped.

Mason took a deep breath. “I said, ‘You can’t just—’”

“I know!” Gael said. “I heard you. I’m not deaf. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“But we’re lab partners. We have to, like, talk about measurements and stuff.”

(It’s worth noting here that, as per usual, Mason was wholly unaware of the assignment while Gael did all of the work.) “Yeah, and we used to be best friends,” Gael said.

Mason put his big hands on the table, squeezing the edge until his knuckles were white. “Are you really going to throw away like a decade of friendship over what happened with me and Anika?”

Gael looked him in the eyes for once. What happened. Like the two of them had accidentally broken his Bluray player or something. “You’re the one who threw the friendship away by sneaking around with Anika for a week before I found out. Not me.”

Mason ran a hand through his curly hair and fiddled with the chemistry book he almost never opened, avoiding Gael’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” He said. “It just kind of . . . happened. She—”

Gael held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear the details, okay?” He shook his head vehemently. “I loved her.”

Mason’s eyes finally met Gael’s. “You never told me that.”

Gael crossed his arms. “Because I thought you’d make fun of me.”

Mason laughed, but it was a sad kind of laugh, a weak one. “I probably would have made fun of you for falling in love after a couple of months,” he said.

“Well—news flash—you can love someone in two months,” Gael said.

(He’s right on this one, of course. You can love someone in two minutes. I’ve seen two seconds, on rare occasions.) “I don’t mean to be a dick,” Mason said carefully.

Too late, Gael thought.

“But did she love you?” Mason continued. “Like, did she ever say it?”

Gael pressed his lips together.

Mason raised his eyebrows, tilted his head. While he waited for an answer, he drummed a beat on the table.

“It doesn’t matter,” Gael spit out. “It doesn’t change what you did.”

Mason stopped drumming. “I know what I did was shitty, but I’m just saying I’ve crushed on the Chili’s waitress longer than you and Anika were ever going out.”

(As much as I consider myself fully Team Gael in this situation, this was not entirely Mason’s fault. He didn’t understand what—frankly—no one in the world fully understands besides Gael and me: that no matter if it was or wasn’t the real thing, for Gael, it was everything.) “You’re an asshat,” Gael said.

And without another word, Gael went back to plotting chemistry-lab attack methods.





sleepless in chapel hill


Now let us return to Gael in his cocoon of despair.