Wrecked

Sharon's POV

My life was usually spent in spins and twirls, but those came from dancing, not from the occasional joint. I mean, should I consider smoking three joints per week often or occasional? Over the course of the three years I'd been attending Juilliard, I certainly hadn't been smoking them every day. Instead, I was throwing way more money at tobacco industries. It helped with the stress and didn't leave me a bumbling idiot with a fierce case of the munchies.

"Why did I think giving you a key was a good idea?"

Gabe puffed out three circles of smoke. I poked a finger through the last one, watching as the white smoke expanded around the offending finger before breaking into tiny particles the naked eye couldn't register.

"'Cause otherwise, I'd have to breakdown the door whenever I came over and you were showering. Or breaking cell phones." I considered him for a second. Gabe snorted, "Don't act like you don't love my delivery service. I only do it for you."

"Yeah, because I'm the only idiot who still smokes with you." I laughed right before taking another drag, but the words got stuck in my head. Maybe because I was baked or because I wasn't sufficiently stoned; either way, my brain latched on to the honesty of those words, especially the part of me being an idiot. It was 2016 and while our friends were moving on with their lives, I was still so completely, annoyingly waiting for Gabriel to... I wasn't even sure. I wasn't an insecure girl waiting for him to notice me; at this point, we'd seen more of each other naked rather than dressed. He was acutely aware of how my body affected his and keenly aware of the changes I'd gone through, just like I was when it came to him. I guess that... I was waiting for Gabe to realize he had deeper feelings when it came to me—to us. Wasn't that as equally pitiful?

"Shit!" I hollered, dropping the scorched joint on the hardwood floor. I glanced at my pinkish fingertips.

"I don't think you should smoke anymore..."

"That's rich coming from you." I accused. I blew on my fingers.

"I'm a pro." I was about to point out we'd started smoking this shit together when Gabe got up from our little huddle on the living room floor. "You're going to raid my kitchen…" it wasn't a question.

"It's hitting me hard, Share-bear. Got any Ding Dongs?" he asked rubbing both hands in a sinister manner. Him grinning goofily made it comical instead of scary.

"Yeah. Just…" I waved a hand side-ways, feeling like lead had replaced my bones. "Just move stuff around." Gabe turned on his heel, barking a laugh. As he marched into the kitchen, I noticed he was still wearing his dark beanie. I was wearing baggy sweats along with a thermal. I glanced down my outstretched legs, stopping on my tender feet. Before Gabe arrived—uninvited—I'd been popping clear blisters with a sterilized needle and covering them with sterile strip and athletic tape. The pain always existed, but it was familiar—almost like a ritual—after all this time. I'd fallen in love with Ballet at seven. Fractured toes, bleeding, chafed skin, fungal infections—I'd plowed through them all. Once you found a passion, you didn't let go. Perseverance is the ultimate tool, as Mom would say. They weren't too bad today, a couple of blisters on top of my toes, especially on my right foot, plus, I had a nasty callus on my left foot. Flexing my feet forward, I made a face. Also, weed helped numbing the hurt.

Gabe was already tearing into a bag of Ding Dongs once he walked back in. I held out my arms in a melodramatic plead of supplication; he tossed me an unopened. It hit me in the chest because I reacted five seconds too late. I sniggered.

After our little feast, we hit a stroke of genius and moved to the couch, because it was five times more comfortable than the floor. Yep, the couch was cozy and great for watching an episode of Friends. It was from season five. Or was it the sixth? I wasn't sure, Gabe had popped the DVD in, so… Yes, I had the entire series on DVD like a dork.

Gabe's face drew nearer, and his lips found their way to my chin; I gave a small jerk at his attempts. I raised a finger at his face.

"Don't," Gabe's eyebrows knitted together. "I have to meet Robbie tomorrow. We're going over routines." I was planning on going to bed—alone—as soon as this episode ended. No distractions.

"What happened to…" he trailed off, frowning. My lips stretched into a wide, demented grin that only someone as relaxed as a stoner could pull off. Gabriel's creased forehead unwrinkled as his dilated pupils shone brighter, like a bulb had been lit inside his head. "Rob. What about that guy?" he was referring to my dance partner Rob or Robbie; we'd been close since our second semester at Juilliard.

"Rob and Robbie are the same person, you do realize that?"

Gabriel settled back against the headboard, exhaling a long smoke.

"What? I thought Rob quit last month. How the hell is he Robbie?" sweet chocolate fountains, he was so fucking high.

"No! Rob is Robbie. Robbie is Rob. The guy who quit was Jacob." Juilliard wasn't exactly a pressure-free school and Jacob had exhibited several ups-and-downs while attending. "No one knows when he's coming back. Or if he's coming back at all. He's… depressed. The pressure finally cracked him like an egg."

"You know what I recommend for that?" he cocked the burning joint at me.

"It's a good thing you're not a doctor."

"Hey, it takes the edge off and you know it." I waved a hand through the curling smoke coming out of his nostrils. "Let's do something."

"I'm tired." And high.

"So, what… We're just going to stare at your magnifique ceiling?"

I slapped the back of my hand against his side.

"Don't knock my ceiling. And," I drew out. I gesture to the large screen hanging in my living room/dining room. "I'm watching that."

Gabe completely overlooked that last part, consumed with the issue of my ceiling.

"It's the most uninteresting ceiling I've ever seen, Ro. And I've seen the Sistine Chapel…"

My head tilted to peep his face. Did he have any idea of what he'd just said?

"You just insulted…" I puckered my lips sensing the familiar sleepy haze washing over me. My duck face was smoothed from existence and I dropped my head back. "Never mind."

I rolled onto my side, resting my forehead against Gabe's shoulder. There was a growl from deep in my stomach; you'd think that damned three-headed dog responsible for guarding the Underworld had been set loose. It's not so bad, I tried to convince myself, assuring my protesting stomach the Ding Dongs would work their magic soon. The muddiness finally cocooned me fully; I felt like a pig in a blanket soaking up Gabe's cozy warmth.

"Uh-oh," I felt him shift. "You're going to fall asleep on me." he stated laughingly. There was no better sound than that. When Gabriel was so happy, so carefree, that it sounded like he was laughing and talking at the same time.

"No."

"You totally are and I'm gonna end up carrying you to bed." I so totally was. I snuggled closer. "Sharon?"

I licked what felt like paper lips, "Yeah?"

"I'm really horny right now."

I snorted.

"Did you lose your right hand?" was my sleepy reply.

"That's cold. But hey, a guy's gotta know how to take a no." that was a good thing for a guy to know, my brain fumbled, eyes falling shut.

Through the remaining lucidity, between sleep and the dampening effects of weed, I whispered, "Didn't you come here to talk? Something about…"

Gabriel slipped an arm across my back, cradling my shoulders, causing a content sigh to leave my mouth.

"Smoke. Talk. It's the same irrelevant shit." Only to you, Gabe.

***

Sunday came too soon, hitting me like a cold slap to the face. Thanksgiving was nearly upon us and the weather wasn't forgiving. I was wearing mittens to keep my fingers frost-bite free. Robbie and I were meeting for breakfast at a café near his apartment. We lived relatively close, since we both had apartments near Juilliard. By the time I made it inside Jelly Star, I wanted to eat a stack of ten pancakes with a bucket load of steamy bitter chocolate. I grinned to myself, picturing that wonderful treat and how it would just dissolve in my mouth. Next time Gabe infiltrated my place, I was going to beg him for those pancakes.

I found Robbie sitting at his favorite booth. Yes, that's correct, my closest friend at Juilliard had a favorite booth to sit at. Was it because of the view outside? No, you only got to see a street jammed with traffic and, nowadays, snow. He liked the corner booth, at the back of the café, because it was the farthest from the bathroom doors and the closest to the cake display. Sometimes, I really thought Robbie enjoyed punishing us.

"I'm so hungry I could eat an elephant."

Robbie's head flew up, eyes diverting from the interesting screen of his computer to watch me.

"If it pleases the court, I've been waiting here for the last twenty minutes, starving, watching slices of pie and plates of waffles being served."

I shimmied off my long coat; I slid into the booth, draping the coat beside me and dropping my messenger bag on top of it.

"You're an awesome friend."

"Nope, I'm more than awesome, I'm Captain Amazing Sauce." He cracked a smile. Oh no. It was the sort of smile that told me something fishy was afoot and I wanted to tell him no, because if Robbie had come up with a brand-new choreography that involved free-style again… "Take a deep breath and stop sucking in your lower lip." Apparently, I did that when I was anxious and nervous.

"I can't. What did you do?"

"Nothing bad."

"You haven't had breakfast yet, I'm twenty minutes late and you're smiling. You did something. Otherwise, you would've thrown me under a bus."

"See? That's why we work well together. We know everything about each other." Why did I think I was about to regret ever telling Robbie anything? "I've been helping sophomores with their Ballet and some of them are pretty nice. Anyway, a guy named Lucian asked me about you. More specifically, if you had a boyfriend." I felt the skin on my face stretch back as my eyes widened with a hint of panic. "I told him no and that he was free to ask you out."

"What?"

"Will you relax? He's a sophomore, not Frankenstein's monster. Chances are, he's too much of a chicken to ask you out."

"That's not the point! You can't just say that to guys, Robbie."

"Why not? You don't have a boyfriend. Worst case scenario, you get asked out and say no. I've seen you turn down guys before, Share." Robbie picked up the menu, eying me before scanning it. "Or you know, you get asked out and—God forbid—say yes and fall for a guy who's interested in you."

He was right. Robbie knew about my relationship with Gabe: best friends having sex with no strings attached. Back when I told him, he'd been impressed by our ability to keep things separate, sex and friendship 'yes', love 'no'. But that was before I invited Robbie to my place and Gabe dropped by, unannounced. After that night, Robbie told me I was a great dancer but an awful actress. He wasn't the first person to point it out; Valerie Monet had a keen eye and last year, when the gang got together for an early Christmas dinner, she'd confronted me about my feelings for Gabe. Apparently, she'd been aware of me being "into him" since our first trip to her lake house, nearly three years ago. She'd asked why I was still playing at friends-with-benefits; I hadn't known what to tell her, except: it'll blow over.

But it hadn't blown over. Instead, it had been solidified.

In a couple of days, when they came over for Thanksgiving, Valerie was going to drag me into a room and tell me the same stuff Robbie did. That I should end it because it wasn't fair to me or that I should tell Gabriel about my feelings. The thought of telling Gabe was… unsettling. I had no idea how he'd react; I didn't think he'd be angry, though. I couldn't remember a time when he'd been angry with me. But… I knew, clear as day, that me pouring out my heart would affect our friendship. Valerie and Robbie couldn't see beyond the present—beyond what they knew about us since they'd met us, but I could. Meeting Gabriel for the first time was so vividly present, like a movie playing in my head.

Mom was taking me to some place with a big garden. She kept telling me to stop playing with the car windows but it was , my butt hurt from sitting and I was bored. Mom took me everywhere with her, but this place was way too far.

"We're not far, sweetheart."

"I wanna get out of the car. It's too hot, Mom!"

"Don't say 'wanna', it's not proper English." I puffed out my cheeks.

I shut my eyes against the breeze, trusting Mom to get us wherever in one piece. I bounded out of the car, blue white-dotted dress swirling around my knees.

"Sharon," Mom gently grabbed my shoulder, keeping me at her side. "Come on, my client is waiting inside." I glared at the large house with big doors in front of us. I wanted to explore the garden around it, not get stuck with Mom and listen to boring talks about guest lists and costs.

Mom waited for me to take her hand. I didn't. I was too old for that. She sighed. Inside the house, it was colder. The ceiling was really tall; my mouth parted when I heard voices coming from somewhere but didn't see anyone; I kicked the urge to yell something silly to hear my echo. Mom would be angry if I did that. The place was so big… I could play hide and seek for days—what if I got lost and no one ever found me? I glanced at Mom's face; she wasn't scared, she never was. I followed her every step and we walked into a large room that looked like the one from Beauty and the Beast, when the princess danced with the monster. My favorite scenes were always the ones with dancing, I loved dancing. I looked around with big eyes; Mom glanced at me with a grin.

"It's like a castle." I whispered.

"It used to be one," Mom began before her eyes drifted to somebody else. Her grin melted into a bright smile and she planted her hand on my back, stirring me along. I saw a young woman sitting on a velvet lounge. She was reading a magazine Mom read, too. The woman flipped another page before looking up. She put down the magazine and got up; she was very pretty, but she had really, really pale hair. I blinked at her as she stopped in front of Mom and me.

"Alexandra," Mom said over my head. "I'm sorry for the delay. Traffic was insane. I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long?"

The woman smiled and it made me want to smile back. It was a weird feeling to have. I didn't like many of Mom's employers. They were stuck-up; Mom didn't like me calling them that. I'd called a middle-aged woman that once and her turned into a tomato.

I was tapping my feet on the floor when the woman with pale hair looked down at me.

"Hi, you must be Sharon." I narrowed my eyes. She chuckled. "Your mother has talked a lot about you." Mom never talked about me. I tagged along and kept quiet and out of the way.

I looked up at Mom.

"You're not a mute, sweetheart." she teased.

I looked back at the strange employee, "Hello." I paused. "I like your hair."

Alexandra laughed; her eyes crinkled.

"Thank you, sweetie. I like your headband." I beamed. My headband was very pretty; it had tiny butterflies."Your mommy and I have to take care of some business. Boring grown-up stuff. Do you want to go play outside?" she asked. I tightened my fists, nodding with excitement. I looked up at Mom. "It's safe. My son's outside, his nanny is watching him."

"Huh," Mom hesitated. "Sharon can be a little..."

Alexandra interrupted Mom with a laugh.

"Of a rascal? Trust me, Olivia, she cannot be worse than Gabe."

I pouted at Mom; I even stuck out my lower lip. My grandma said those were my big guns. Mom looked like she didn't trust me.

"I promise to be good."

She shook her head, "Alright. But if I get any complaints from—"

"I'll be good!" I protested. Mom gave me a stern stare. I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. No interrupting other people. Sorry." I apologized again, smiling a little.

"She's adorable." I liked this Alexandra woman.

Mom and Alexandra took me to where an older woman was, sitting on a bench. Alexandra introduced me to Jill and once Mom and her left, I ran down a path of rosebushes, towards a pond where the boy Jill was watching was playing. He didn't seem to be doing much; he was just sitting on a step near the pond. His hair was like his Mom's, almost like snow; I loved playing in the snow.

I tapped the boy's shoulder.

"Hi!"

He whirled around so fast, I yelped, falling back a step. Big blue eyes stared at me, shocked.

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't want to scare you. I'm Sharon. Our moms are working together." I pointed back at the castle-like mansion.

The boy's lips pressed together. I tilted my head. He was still staring at me; it made me bite my lip. I didn't like feeling nervous. I looked at the boy's hand—the one clutched to his chest; a red and black dot crawled along the back of it.

"Wow," I got closer, beaming. "Is that a lady-bug? I love ladybugs!" the boy blinked, looking down at his hand. He held it out for me to see. "I went as a ladybug last Halloween." I shared proudly.

"That's not scary," the boy's voice was soft.

I shrugged, "Every girl in my class goes as princesses—oh! One went as a cowboy. But I wanted something cute." I sat beside the boy. "What about you?"

"Huh..." he mumbled. "I was Batman." that was boring, but I didn't say it out loud, like Mom taught me. "I'm Gabriel."

"I'm Sharon." After saying it, I remembered I'd already told him that. I blushed as a smile showed on his face, reminding me of his mother's.

He lifted the hand where the ladybug was—getting it closer to me. I forgot about my red face, watching the little thing sneak around.

"It was drowning in the pond," Gabriel explained; he turned his palm upward as the ladybug decided to stroll there.

I looked into his blue eyes.

"You saved her." his smile got bigger.

"You're a weird girl."

"Why?"

"All the girls I know are afraid of bugs."

"Oh. Well. I like some bugs. The colorful ones. I think they're pretty... Look!" the ladybug flew away from Gabriel's hand; I lost her when she flew into the bushes. I twisted my lips, feeling sad. I wanted to hold her too!

"Hey," Gabriel got up, brushing the back of his cargo shorts. "Do you want to play tag?"

I shot up, "Yes!" Gabriel blushed. I stopped, thinking I'd done something wrong. "What?"

"Nothing," he mumbled. "Come on." he reached for my hand—I flinched back.

"Where are we going?"

"That way," the shorter boy pointed towards a path filled with tall rosebushes. "There's a patio there. My Mom likes it. I think you'll like it too."

"But... We're not supposed to leave." I looked over a shoulder; Jill was looking right at us.

"Why not?"

"Because I told my Mom I was going to be good. Running off is bad." I threw out.

"We're not going far. And if you get in trouble, just say I made you do it."

"That's..." that was wrong. I didn't lie to Mom. But... I wanted to explore and it was hot and it was summer and I hadn't seen my friends in a long time since school ended...

"Come on," he tugged at me. I could've pulled back, I was a good head taller, but I went along; he started running and I had to keep up. I heard someone yell—maybe that lady, Jill. Gabriel didn't stop, so, I didn't stop. Gabriel showed me a stone gazebo with ivy growing on it; he was right, I liked the patio; there were a lot of tulips in so many colors: white, red, purple!

I was faster than Gabriel, but he could climb trees like a monkey. He sat on a thick branch, swinging his legs, grinning.

"That's not fair!" I yelled up at him.

He laughed. It was a loud laugh. I wanted to smile just from hearing it. No! I was mad at him! I crossed my arms, glaring hard. I had no idea how long we stared at each other, I just knew that when I turned to leave, a small sound came from behind me and then there was the sound of feet hitting the ground. A hand grabbed my elbow; I looked down at the pale haired boy.

"Fine. I won't cheat anymore, don't be mad."

I stared over his head. I didn't want to stop being angry just like that.

"Whatever." I mumbled. I chewed my lip for a while, avoiding his eyes... I reached out, tapping my hand on his shoulder. "You're it!" I screamed running as fast as I could toward the gazebo…

I jumped in my side of the booth. Robbie snapped his fingers in front of my face—again. I knocked his hand away with a huff.

"Hello, nice of you to join me." I rolled my eyes, fully extracting myself from that early summer memory. "I ordered for you. Figured you wanted the usual."

"A cappuccino and a blueberry muffin?"

"Yep."

"Thanks. I was just... going over the things I need to buy for Thanksgiving." Robbie bought into that easily enough, since I was going to play hostess to my friends. Our topic changed altogether when breakfast arrived, we talked about our Partnering class.