I am not
the damsel in
d i s t r e s s
Going on what will most likely be a permanent hiatus.
It was a good time guys. Love you all. If you need me, hit me up on Elijah.
Although he was thickheaded, Dante knew when Gabi was covering up her feelings. She did it a lot and he doubted that would ever change. In that moment, he wished that he was just dumb enough to believe her when she said that she was fine. “Gabi.” Her name sounded different. Maybe it was all of the panic and emotion that Dante himself was throwing a blanket over. His fingers tightened as the threaded with hers. Was this for the best? They were kids, still in high school, neither with any income. When the news had been dropped on him, Dante had offered to marry her. For some reason the idea of moving in to live with him and his mother didn’t appeal to her. Dante completely understood.
“I guess,” he answered quietly. “Your old man would kill me. My mother would have heart failure.” This opinion wasn’t new or unexpected. Understanding that he was there to be supportive, he tried a little harder, forcing a warm smile for Gabi. “This is for the best.” While one side of him honestly believed it, there was still that other side that kept screaming for him to convince her not to go through with it. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, he realized what little time they had left before her name would be called. “Gabi, I’m sorry. I wish I could think of something better to say.”
Her lip threatened to quiver when he said her name, so she bit down on it, hard. She’d bitten it so many times over the last few days that this time she tasted blood and her eyes watered from the pain of it. “Fuck,” she mumbled as she reached for a handful of Kleenex to dab her lip with. Her dark eyes met Dante’s, a wad of tissues pressed to her lips while tears of pain and sadness coursed down her cheeks. She was not fine and she was not doing a very good job of hiding it now that she had hurt herself. She’d reverted to being the child she was, crying over a little hurt and a lot of confusion.
She sniffled and pulled the tissues away and tossed them into the garbage. Gabi snatched more from the box and wiped her eyes and nose. “I don’t want him to hurt you,” she said, her voice tiny. Hearing him say it, even if he wasn’t 100% sure, made her feel marginally better. She squeezed his hand, the other strayed to her stomach and she had another pang of guilt, regret, and terror, all rolled into one. The teen wondered then if her boyfriend would hate her for this, if she would hate herself after, if it would hurt, if the baby would feel it. Her mind raced until she felt dizzy and couldn’t breathe. His words jolted her out of a panic. “Nothing to say. Right?”
Her head snapped up. A nurse had come out with forms. More forms. Gabi took them and started to read and sign, her signature shaky.
I’m gonna kidnap Warren and we’re going to eat a lot of bacon.