I'll Meet You There

"Hi."

I glanced up at the girl standing beside my desk. "Uh, hi?"

"I'm Gabrielle. Is this seat taken?"

"No."

She sat next to me and organised her books on the table: a n otebook, a book, and a small red bag. I glanced down at my own messy pile, only a notebook full of loose sheets of paper and a pen. The girl, Gabrielle, smiled at me and brushed her vanilla-coloured hair from her ivory face. I cleared my throat quietly.

"You new here?"

"Yeah. My . . . my uncle and aunt live here, so . . ."

"Where are your parents?"

"They died."

"Oh. I . . . I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's fine." A shy grin crept across her lips. "So, I never caught your name."

"Oh, I'm, uh, Pierre."

"Cool."

The teacher handed out the test we'd taken the day before; a big, red F covered the top of mine. Gabrielle giggled.

"You suck at Chemistry."

"Yeah. Never been my strong suit."

"Would you like some help?"

"Good luck," a voice whispered from behind us.

I growled, "Shut up, Jeff."

My friend chuckled and lobbed a pencil at the back of my head. The new girl laughed but opened her bag, pulling out a green gel-ink pen. She opened the tablet in front of her; I turned and glared at Jeff. He smiled widely before pretending to pay attention to the teacher. When I faced the front of the room, there was a folded piece of paper on top of my notebook.

Would you like help in this class?

if you want to help, sure.

Of course. Where would you want to meet?

um the public library know where thats at?

I'll get my aunt to drop me off.

cool. today at 4 ok with you?

I'll meet you there.

Hastily shoving my books in my locker, I rushed to meet up with Chuck. He was, and had always been (at least, since he got his license), my ride home. He was waiting impatiently in his car.

"What took so long?"

"Dude, I'm earlier than yesterday."

"True. You gonna make it tonight?"

"Can't. My parents are flipping about my grades."

"Oh, okay."

"Can you drop me off at the library?"

"Pierre Bouvier, going to the library? What's going on?"

"I'm getting help for Chemistry."

"From the new girl?"

"How'd you know?"

"She told Jamie she couldn't go to the mall tonight because she was tutouring."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Alright. Here you go. Have fun."

"Chuck?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an ass."

He laughed as I shut the door to his car, and I flipped him off. I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets and headed toward the entrance. A lady inside gave me a polite smile; only a few tables were occupied, none by Gabrielle. I continued walking around until I found her in a corner, reading a book.

"Is that good?"

She jumped and took off her glasses. "Oh, God, Pierre. You scared me."

"I'm sorry. Glasses?"

"I only need them when I read."

"You look good in them."

"Um, thanks. Shall we get started?"

"That sucked."

"It was Charlotte's Web. It's a classic."

"Boring."

"What do you prefer to read then?"

"Playboy," I replied with a cheeky smirk.

"Go figure. Fine. Try reading this."

"A Wrinkle In Time?"

"It's really good."

"You said that about Charlotte's Web."

"This one's better."

"If this sucks, I'll never trust your judgment again."

Her soft melodic laugh filled our corner, and I smiled at the sound.

"You have a deal."

I held the phone closer to my ear and sighed happily.

"Am I boring you, Monsieur Bouvier?"

"No. I just love your voice."

"So you sigh?"

"I was thinking."

"About?"

"How I could listen to your voice forever."

She paused. "You're such a sweetie. How can anybody call you a player?"

"I used to be, until I met you."

"So I changed you for the better?"

"Yes. I'm glad you did."

"I am, too," my girlfriend of eight months agreed. "Would you want to go with me tomorrow to my parents' graves?"

"Of course. Where at?"

"My aunt will pick us up at the front of the school."

"I'll meet you there."

I stood on Gabi's porch, holding her as she cried. My heart broke at the painful good-bye. She clung to me tighter.

"I'm sorry, Gabi."

"Don't be. This is your dream."

"Making you cry isn't."

"I'll see you again."

"I love you."

She smiled sadly. "I love you, too. Oh, Pierre?"

"Yeah?"

"Dream of me."

"Every night and day."

"I'll meet you there."

I gave her one last kiss before turning and heading to the bus. Jeff, Chuck, Seb, and the new guy, David, gave me sympathetic looks. I sat away from them and thought about the girl I was leaving.

"Pierre!"

"Gabi!"

I caught my girlfriend of three years and held her to my chest. Tears were streaming down our faces unashamedly, and I kissed her.

"Oh, my God. You're back."

"Yep. I'm home."

"Don't let me go!" she protested when I set her on her feet.

"I have a question."

"What's that?"

"Here."

She took the bag from me and gave me a confused look. I gestured for her to open it; she dug through the wads of tissue paper, before finally pulling out the box. I got down on one knee and picked up her hand.

"Gabrielle Marie Watson, will you marry me?"

She brought her free hand up to her mouth as more tears fell from her eyes. I slipped the band on her ring finger once she'd stammered out a yes. My band-mates and everyone around us all cheered and clapped; and I embraced my fiancee.

"Gabi, I love you."

"I love you, too, Pierre."

"So come home."

"I can't."

"Why not?" I whined, and she giggled down the line.

"The groom can't see the bride till the wedding."

"Stupid superstitions."

"The anticipation makes the wait worth it."

"No. You being my wife makes it all worth it."

"Pierre, it's two in the morning, so I'm gonna go. You don't want me falling asleep on you at the wedding."

"That would be bad. Alright. I love you."

"I love you, too. Get some sleep."

"Sweet dreams. Oh, Gabi?"

"Yes?"

"Charlotte's Web wasn't a bad book. In fact, I liked it a lot."

"You jerk! You had me feeling guilty for making you read that."

I chuckled. "Sorry."

"I'll see you at the altar."

"I'll meet you there."