In Real Life ✓

37. This Is So Sad Alexa Play Despacito

When I got to Gilbert's place, there was another car right next to Gilbert's red monstrosity and I paused to wonder... whose car might that be? A friend maybe? But whoever it may be, why did Gilbert not tell me that he couldn't talk with me today because he was having someone over? Like, what the fuck? What's going on?!

Only one way to find out.

The doorbell rang so loud I could hear it outside, but nobody came to open up right away. It took them a minute to come to the front of the house and fling the door open, and it wasn't Gilbert. It was... a man who looked a lot like him. A man with the same dark hair and sparse eyebrows and lanky limbs... Please tell me Tony's story was not bullshit and that this wasn't actually his father...

"You!" he said.

"What."

"You're the girl."

Gilbert appeared behind him and said, "Dad, leave her alone. It's not her fault."

"No, of course not! It's always your fault!"

Oh, shit.

"I guess I'll come back later," I said, already turning away with wide eyes. It didn't really seem like a good idea to stay and unintentionally fuck things up with Gilbert's parents by saying something wrong. His father had other plans, though. He told me to come in, and I insisted I could come back later, but he was adamant. Very adamant. I could tell he was a lawyer just from hearing him talk. He was very convincing.

Gilbert gave me an apologetic look as I reluctantly stepped inside.

"So you are an internet celebrity," said Gilbert's dad.

I nodded.

"You two should not have exposed yourselves like that. That was stupid."

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think it's any of your business."

"Gilbert is my son," he spat back. "That makes it everything my business."

"You put him in here all on his own because you didn't want anything to do with him. Why care now? Is it because you're scared he'll put your own career in jeopardy?" With a sarcastic wink, because I couldn't resist, I told him, "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"I highly doubt that."

"You can call my agency if you have doubts, sir," I replied.

And that shut him up. I'm sure he realized that meant he was not the only lawyer in the play. If he wanted to sue me or something (I didn't fucking know how that shit worked) I could just get Charlotte to take care of it. No problem whatsoever. Yeah, I had my shit figured out, all right. (Thanks, Mom.)

"See, I told you," Gilbert said. "There's no problem. Can you leave now, Dad?"

"Yes, there is a problem. You don't understand, do you? People can use this."

"No, they can't, Dad. Please just let it go."

He growled in frustration and grabbed his coat, almost knocking over the flimsy chair he'd thrown it on. "Don't come crying to me when something happens because of this. I won't be here to help and neither will your mother. Thank God you'll be eighteen in two months."

The door slammed shut.

I turned my head to look at Gilbert, but I couldn't see his face. I could only see his back as he walked into the kitchen to look through the window with a deep sigh, watching his dad drive off. It was silent for a long moment, before he finally muttered, "I hate him."

"Same."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault he's a dick."

"No, I mean... Sorry for today. And sorry for not telling you about this. I just... I rushed home without thinking."

"It's okay. I get it. It's your dad."

He turned back around and gave me a small smile.

"Forgive me for getting down to business right away, but, uh... what happened? You know, Christmas."

He scoffed, "You know what happened."

"No, I don't," I said, walking closer and gesturing at his head. "What happened up there? All I know is that we were making out and that you ran away. I have no idea what that means. Can you please just tell me why you freaked out like that?"

I was not surprised when he wouldn't reply right away. First, he turned away from me. Then, he sighed and dragged his hands down his face. After that, he sat down on the sofa and laid his head on the backrest to stare at the ceiling with a frown. To just sit there all depressed-like...

Eventually, he threw his hands up and said, "What do you want me to tell you?"

"Uh, the truth?"

"I just... I don't know if I can do this."

"Do what?"

He didn't clarify. He only added, "I want to."

"You don't know if you can do what?" I repeated.

"I really like you," he groaned. "I really, really, really like you. Too much."

"What is that supposed to mean, Gilbert?"

He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, staring down at the floor like a sad statue sculpted by an even sadder sculpter. Please, no. My breath caught in my throat when he replied, "You know what I mean, Eve. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to... how to..."

"Why are you bringing this up now? You said you knew what you were getting into," I said, feeling my throat constrict at the thought of him just... giving up.

"Clearly, I didn't!" he exclaimed, suddenly raising his voice and getting up from the sofa.

"So now what?" I whispered. "Is this it?"

"I... I don't know. I don't..." His voice broke and he cleared his throat as he stared at me from across the room, brows furrowed and lips pressed together in a tight line. I probably looked the same. Confused. Hurt. Unwilling to accept reality.

After a long moment, he walked over to me and reached for my face, cupping my jaw. "No."

"O-okay? How... You just said..."

"I'll find a solution," he replied, while stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.

"Wouldn't it just be easier to—"

"No."

"If it doesn't work, it doesn't work," I muttered, even though I wanted to say the exact opposite, and he didn't want to hear it, either. He shook his head and leaned down to press his lips to mine in a bittersweet kiss. With a croaky voice, he muttered, "No. We don't have to break up."

"Okay."

"We'll figure it out."

"Okay."