The silence between them was strained even with the guitar and drums calling to them from the radio. Gauge kept his eyes on the road, except every so often they would wonder her way. He knew she was nervous, where Alexa was fidgety under strain Janabelle was freakishly calm and still. Instead of flying off the handle she would sit and think, un-nerving the fight out of whoever was angry.
The song ended and the silence stretched as he parked the car in the lot of his apartment. He raked his hands through his hair letting out a heavy sigh. What was wrong with her? With him? With them? How could he fix it? He couldn't erase the night he turned her away. It was the same day he admitted to himself he loved her. It was self-preservation! He couldn't keep seeing her hurt, it was chipping away at him so when he heard the familiar timid knock, he was afraid. He folded his ands across the span of his chest guarding himself against her bloody clothes and bruised face, her lips swollen to twice their fullness caked with drying blood. He couldn't remember his exact words to her, but something along the lines of he couldn't sit around watching her being hurt so he was done.
She gazed up at him confused her mouth opened to say something but nothing came out except a choppy croaking breath. They stared at each other and he wanted to take it back. He wanted to pull her close, he wanted rewind and delete those harsh words. More than anything he wanted to know what to do. He wanted to understand the anger he felt towards her, she was a good daughter to her father and a great friend to him. They both hurt her abandoning her in different ways.
He reached out to her but she stepped back shaking her head, glaring at him like stranger. She stumbled as she walked backwards trying to decipher what had just happened, before turning to walk away. She didn't look back, as she hung her head low; wondering what was wrong with her. Why was it so easy for people dismiss her? She had no one, no she sighed that wasn't completely true, she could have stayed with Alexa, or Wanda and Jerome. That just screamed trouble, Alexa would call the cops or worse call her dad in Austin and Janabelle would have to look into watchful eyes and lie. Jerome and Wanda were no better, no actually they were worse they'd call "cousins" to handle her dad. She couldn't afford that. She couldn't afford the bail if she went to Alexa and she couldn't afford the hospital bill if she went to Wanda.
Janabelle walked the streets for a few hours that night, until she figured old Man Monroe, her dad passed out. She crept through the door hissing sharply at any creak her weight caused on the floor. The old man was sprawled on the floor snoring. She tip toed to her room, finally collapsing on her bed letting quiet sobs convulse in her chest.
Gauge knew he was a dick not 5 minutes passed before he went after her; he spent the whole night looking for her. He since has spent every waking moment making up for his selfishness. Every moment trying to get
his
Bella back. She pulled deep into herself anytime he saw a glimmer of their old friendship. She would close off and move away. Did he blame her?
"So you want to tell me what that was about?" Gauge asked as though he didn't know the answer.
Janabelle shrugged turning her face to the passenger window. There was a hard coldness radiating from the window making her shiver as she stared in the gaze of her ethereal reflection. She wished she had the ease of being an image instead of real person. She would only appear in the hard cold glass and disappear when the other image was finished and satisfied with itself. She touched the glass under her finger tips lightly brushing her ghost as though drawing courage and comfort, somehow if she could block the twisting and tightening in her chest. She didn't want to feel this way, she didn't want to feel the anger and bitterness eating inside her or the hurt she denied feeling when he turned her away. None of this mattered. It was obvious she didn't deserve love and comfort. It was her fault her Dad was an addict, she should have been able to stop him. So whatever he did to her she deserved because she failed him. And she pulled Gauge into this cluster fuck she called a life, relieved to finally have someone to turn to. She strained their friendship, she was selfish. Then she had to fall in love with him. What was she thinking? She scoffed at herself as tears pushed their way up to the surface.
She wasn't going to cry to him anymore. She wasn't going to hold the hope that she could be loved, especially by him. Love was a fucking joke, love didn't cure or heal it sucked you dry it made you a fraud. She pretended to be the chill chick, the one everyone loved to hang around; she wondered that no one saw the fire bubbling to her surface. She was barely holding on to herself. There had to be something wrong with her right? If her dad loved her enough wouldn't he stop taking drugs, wouldn't he hear her voice in the fog of his delirium when she'd cry curled into a ball
no daddy it's me! Daddy wake up it's me!
"Janabelle," the deep timbre of his voice pulled her out of her thoughts and tugged on the heart she tried to shut off. Gauge never called her Janabelle. It was always some variation Belles, Bella, Bella Bear, lil'bit, and his personal favorite munchkin, but never Janabelle. It was strange and foreign as she twisted the sound of his voice saying her name over and over in her head.
"Jana," he said again in a long sigh. She tensed as she heard the clink and cloth zip of him releasing his seatbelt. She closed her eyes as she felt the push of his energy nearing her own. "Talk to me...
Please
," his hand wrapped around the one she kept idle in her lap. His hand was big and warm totally engulfing hers. The silver thumb ring put out the most heat, scorching a trail over her thumb as he stroked it.
Her eyes focused on his shadowy reflection behind her own. His usually cool grey eyes bright and warm with concern. She met his gaze in the window; it would be easier like this, if she didn't really have to face him. She could pretend that what they were feeling they really weren't.
"What do you want to talk about?" her voice trembled lightly in its softness.
"Us," Gauge said tugging her hand to get her to face him. His simple confession surprised her enough to make her turn.
"Us? What about
us
?" her voice was harsh and raw. Janabelle couldn't and wouldn't talk about them. She didn't want to talk about anything. She just didn't want to exist at all. She didn't want to be sitting there looking into Gauge's beautiful clear eyes wondering when he was going to turn his back on her again. She didn't blame him but that didn't stop it from hurting.
Gauge opened his mouth then closed it. He didn't know what to say to her. What could he say? Her eyes burned into him, he studied the hurt radiating from her. He was about to reach out and touch her face. Her cheeks still had traces of baby fat, adding to her prettiness. Before he could reach her, she was out of the car slamming the door.
She was about to take off somewhere, anywhere to think, to cry, to be away from guaranteed heart break. The cold air surprised her, stopping her in her tracks giving Gauge the chance to catch up. She gasped into the night and huddled close to herself. Gauge trapped her between his car and himself. He looked down at her for the first time he could see, he understood the weight of what she carried.
"I-I don't w-want to t-talk," she whispered through trembling lips. It had to be from the cold and not because Gauge was so close, she lied to herself. The air was so crisp and cool it hurt to breathe but she did, letting out a fog that blurred their vision.
