Chapter Soundtrack - Chapter 3: "Uninvited" by Alanis Morissette
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As I carefully moved around the contents of what my mother claimed was chicken casserole from one end of my plate to the other, I tried to stay focused on the conversation at the dinner table and not the conversation I had had the day before with Gabriel.
"So, Athena, what are your plans for tonight?" my mother asked.
I tried to suppress a small groan as I looked up at her. She already knew what my answer most likely was going to be and I already knew what her reaction would definitely be. My nights were usually spent reading, working or hanging out with Gretchen. To my mother's chagrin, my usual destinations of choice were either the library or the World Wide Web and tonight I had a date with both. "I'll probably spend a few hours at the library, catch up on some research I've been meaning to do." I stole a glance at my father, silently pleading for some support at what was about to come next.
"Athena," my mother said quietly, "another night at the library? I'm sure there are at least a dozen other things you could be doing with your friends tonight. What's Gretchen up to?"
"She's cheering tonight at the Vikings basketball game," I replied sullenly, as if my mother didn't already know. She was always hoping Gretchen's outgoing personality would eventually rub off on me. I had accepted that my mother's expectations would always be met with disappointment when it came to my social life, but living according to someone else's definition of normal just wasn't in my DNA.
"You see, now Gretchen has the right idea. She's involved in school activities and socializes with her peers. She dates," she added at the end with emphasis.
"Diane, leave the girl alone. It's not like she's running off with delinquents doing who knows what. In this day and age, you should be proud that you have a daughter who cares more about her future than her popularity," my father cut in, winking at me with an understanding look in his eyes.
James Thorpe was a computer engineer. He had been born and raised in Sparrow, met my mom in college and married her a few years after they graduated. They had me two years later with my brother Nathan following a year after that. Yes, we were the all-American family, white picket fence and all. But my father was a great man and at this moment, he was my king.
"James, of course I'm proud of Athena. I just think it would be good for her to spend a little more time enjoying her youth." She looked at me as she continued. "Honey, I know I've said this before, but you're only young once. You have five months left of high school. Do you really want to spend the bulk of that time at the library reading?"
I rolled my eyes. My mother, and pretty much everyone else, would never understand how the worlds I read about in books could possibly be more fascinating than what was taking place around me. It was time for this conversation to end, for this week anyway. "I'm done," I grunted as I picked up my plate and glass, walking over to the sink and dropping them in.
"But you barely touched your dinner," my mother protested. "The library isn't going anywhere, Athena. You have time to finish a meal."
"I'm suddenly not hungry." That was a lie. I was starving, which meant I'd be making a stop at Calhoun's before the library.
"Oh, Athena, stop being so sensitive. I'm just trying to make sure you don't miss out on something you'll have regrets about later. Just remember, you can't go back. You can never go back."
"Thank goodness for life's little blessings," I muttered under my breath as I made my way to my bedroom to grab my bag. Sometimes I wondered if I hadn't been switched at birth. The list of differences between my mother and I grew longer every day. Today's addition: my mother regarded her high school years as her glory days. I regarded mine as cruel and unusual punishment. I quickly walked to the front door, hastily putting on my black wool coat and boots. "I'll be home later," I called out, practically slamming the door behind me. The wind whipped my hair around as the cold air licked my face. My breath came out in smoky puffs as I hurried to my car. I climbed in the front seat and swung the door shut, blocking the icy blasts of air from following me in.
As I drove to Calhoun's, I began to fully analyze my conversation with Gabriel for the millionth time. I never allowed myself to do so with others around for fear that they would see the effect he had on me. All I had to do was think about the knowing grin and dancing eyes and it was like my body was no longer my own. It became his and he alone maneuvered my emotions, making them go from irritation to infatuation at his whim. I couldn't believe he had been watching me for the past week. You'd think the boy would have better things to do with his time. And why wasn't I more bothered by this? For all I knew, he could have been staking me out for all sorts of unsavory reasons. Yet, I hadn't felt any psychotic vibes when I had confronted him about it. If anything, I was just a little annoyed that he now knew how mundane my everyday life really was.
In reviewing my actions of the last week, I didn't understand what it was that held his interest. I went to my classes, worked at Robertson's and had gone to the mall one afternoon with Gretchen to help her pick out a new outfit for her date this weekend. Every other available moment was spent rea...NO! I pulled into a parking space in front of the diner and shut my eyes, hoping my sudden realization would magically disappear. If Gabriel had seen me reading, then he would have witnessed one of my most unglamorous habits. Whenever I came across a passage in a book that I absolutely loved, that I could re-read over and over again, never tiring of the genius writing, I would read the passage aloud. I didn't do this all the time, and definitely not when around other people. But this last week, I had done it twice during my lunch break. Of course, both times I had thought I was alone and didn't yet have any suspicions of being watched.
I walked into Calhoun's, not comforted by the thought of finally knowing why he found me so entertaining. It was now so painfully obvious. He thinks I'm a freak. That's why he's talking to me. I'm his new pet project. Athena the Geek Goddess. I placed my order and sat in a stool at the front counter. As I continued to dissect the situation, there was one factor I had to consider. He hadn't really known anything about me before he had chosen me to scrutinize. So the million dollar question was why did he choose me? I knew what I secretly wanted the answer to be. The whimsical part of me delighted in thinking he might actually be interested. Then the other part of me, the realist, knew it was highly unlikely, to say the least.
I dipped a fry in ketchup and popped it in my mouth while ruminating over all the differences that existed between me and Gabriel. Of course, my mind immediately wandered to those of the physical variety. His dark eyes that smoldered and seemed to light up with laughter at almost everything I said. His messy, dark brown hair that was long enough in the front to run my fingers through. His lips were...No! I had to stop this. Gabriel Valente and I were NOT a good match. Period! Yet, as unlikely as his affection might be, he obviously wasn't going away, which was exactly why my visit to the library tonight was important.
Once there, I immediately headed for the computer stations available for public use. I chose the computer towards the end of the row. There weren't many people in the library to begin with, but I wanted as much privacy as possible. I would have preferred to conduct my detective work in the confines of my room but my computer, which was practically an antique, would give a turtle a run for its money in how slow it was. For this project I was way too anxious to sit around and stare at the screen, willing it to move faster. I sat down and looked at the monitor in front of me. I was nervous, though I really didn't have any reason to be. I wasn't conducting an illegal investigation. I was just doing some research, like I had told my parents. Except I had conveniently left out that my research was on Gabriel Valente. Since it was clear he wasn't going to perform a disappearing act any time soon, whatever his reasons were, I thought I should at least do some homework and see if any of the stories about him held any truth. I was fully aware that the internet wasn't the most appropriate barometer to determine between fact and fiction, but it was the only resource I had at the moment.
I hesitated for a few seconds before deciding that I had nothing to feel guilty about. Gabriel had admittedly stalked me for the past week. Fair was fair. I clicked the internet icon to open a window, typed his name in the Google search field and hit enter. Hundreds of search results popped up on the screen, causing me to hold my breath for a second. My eyes widened with amazement as I scrolled through the listings. The headings were all very similar. There were numerous articles regarding Gabriel's arrest. From what I could gather, Gabriel and his cousin, Anthony Valente, were found by police in a dark alley in Brooklyn with the dead body of sixteen-year-old Matthew D'Angelo. Matthew had died from a stab wound to the abdomen. The most damning piece of evidence was the murder weapon. A knife was found at the scene of the crime and apparently had Gabriel's fingerprints on it, leading the police to be able to press formal charges. Gabriel had pleaded not guilty, claiming he and Anthony had nothing to do with the murder and that they had merely stumbled across the body after leaving a party at a friend's nearby apartment. The explanation for his fingerprints on the knife was that he had actually found the bloody murder weapon before seeing the body. The friend hadn't been located until the start of the trial, but that testimony along with a lack of witnesses of the actual crime and probably a very well-paid, savvy lawyer resulted in the not guilty verdict.
I closed my eyes, trying not to picture the scene in my head: Gabriel, a dead body, the police arriving and placing him in handcuffs. I looked back at the screen, scanning through the results once more to see if there was any other information on him outside of the arrest. Other articles chronicled charges that had been brought against various members of the Valente family over the years. There were stories of crime wars and affiliations. It was a lot to process, causing me to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I had known Gabriel's family was involved in organized crime, but to see it in print on a computer screen right in front of me suddenly made it exist in a way it hadn't before. I didn't really want to read about the crimes and court room drama, so I clicked from page to page trying to find any little bit of info on Gabriel I could. I was about to call it a day when one headline suddenly caught my eye: Isaac Valente Jr. Found Dead in Lower East Side. My heart started to pound as I clicked on the heading. In between the headline and the text of the article was a picture of a beautiful young boy. Isaac Valente Jr. had brown hair, dark eyes and an angelic smile. He was the Valente's oldest child, his only sibling being Gabriel. Isaac Jr. was thirteen when he was found dead from multiple gunshot wounds. I felt my heart ache at the thought of Gabriel losing his older brother in such a violent way. My next thought was that it could have just as easily been him, but I pushed that one as far away from my consciousness as possible.
I skimmed over the paragraphs, looking for any mention of Gabriel, but aside from listing him as a surviving sibling, there was no other information. Foul play was suspected in the shooting but no one was ever charged. I had a feeling this scenario was probably all too common in the mob world. To the police force, FBI and the public, this was just another unsolved murder. Sure, everyone had their suspicions that gangsters were involved, but without concrete evidence nothing could be done, legally. I wondered if Gabriel's father had exacted his own kind of revenge for the untimely death of his eldest son. How many more people had died? When did the cycle end? It never really ended, did it? As long as there were mobsters, as long as there was organized crime and warring families, there would always be death.
And then there was Gabriel. He had known this world all his life, but for him, it wasn't just news articles on a computer screen. For him it had been and still was his reality. He and his mother coming to Sparrow may have given him some physical distance, but if enemies of his family really wanted to hurt him, they could undoubtedly find him wherever he went, which meant that he was always in danger. Even while living a normal life like any other high school senior, Gabriel Valente was probably always watching his back. Only that was not the Gabriel I knew. He never appeared afraid or cautious. I had never seen him look over his shoulder or be wary of people. Where was the pain and anger? Where was the little boy who had suffered one of life's greatest tragedies in such a cruel way? Where was the guy who had been accused of murder? Was he burying it all, not wanting anyone to see how much it had really affected him? Or had he become so hardened and desensitized that the harsh realities of his world were just another part of his daily life, like brushing his teeth or eating?
Now that I knew a little more about the new guy, it was time to decide where all of this left me. I had initially made a promise to myself to stay away from Gabriel Valente. After everything I had just read about him and his family, said promise should have been a lot easier to keep. Unfortunately, the emotions I felt being around him weren't easily ignored. I wasn't naïve enough to think the world he came from wasn't dangerous, but I doubted he and his mother would have put the good people of Sparrow at risk just so they could have a vacation from city life. I was relatively sure I was safe. And although I had gathered some intel, I now had more questions than ever about Gabriel and the life he had led before moving to Sparrow. I was in a quandary. The list of reasons to stay away was never-ending. My mind kept going over this list, but my heart just wanted to see his face again. Would there really be any harm in a few more conversations?
To make a fully informed decision, I decided to continue my research. This time my source was my best friend. As Gretchen and I browsed the racks at a clothing store in the mall during her lunch break the next day, continuing the search for a new outfit for her to wear on her date later that night, I tried to think of the best way to bring up Gabriel without making her suspicious. I was curious about what Gabriel's life in Sparrow was like outside of school. I was sure most of the female senior class could give me a play-by-play breakdown of his schedule, but I couldn't really consider any of them as friends thanks to Jackson and his stupid bet. My fellow classmates had been easily swayed by his ridiculous lies, like cattle being led by their shepherd. It wasn't like I had really been close to any of them except for Gretchen, but I had grown up with these people. Jackson had only moved to Sparrow three years ago, but they treated him like their hometown hero. Where was the loyalty? I shook my head and focused on my mission. There was really no easy way to avoid the conclusions Gretchen would inevitably jump to, so I decided to just dive right in. Her break from her part-time job at the MAC cosmetics counter inside of Macy's was only thirty minutes long. Time was of the essence.
"Hey, so what's the latest scoop on the new guy?" I asked, trying to keep my voice as nonchalant as possible. I avoided her eyes as I picked up a deep red sweater and held it up against me in front of a mirror.
"Do you mean Gabe?" she inquired, looking up at me, clearly surprised by my topic of choice.
"Yeah. You were so interested in that little two-minute interlude between us that I was just wondering what other interludes he's been having."
"Really? And why exactly are you wondering? I mean, you made it pretty clear you weren't interested. Why does it matter if he's having other interludes?"
I glanced at her reflection in the mirror and saw a smug look on her face. Her green eyes were now dancing with those conclusions. That didn't take long. "It doesn't matter, Gretchen. I was just trying to make conversation. Are you telling me the secret service has been called off?"
"Uh-huh. Okay, I'll play along, Athena. There actually isn't much to report. He comes to school, goes to his classes, spends his lunch hour either off campus or in the library," she said, giving me a pointed look as she continued, "and then drives home. He's been seen around town at a few places. Here and at the promenade. It doesn't look like he has a job but it's obvious he doesn't need one. He and his mother have also had dinner at the Italian bistro a few times. Other than that, his life is pretty much like everyone else's."
I dropped the sweater back on the table. Her response hadn't really provided me with anything concrete.
"It's actually a little disappointing," she sighed, grabbing a black sweater dress off the rack to add to her collection of items to try on.
"Disappointing? Why?" I asked, following her.
"Because he was supposed to be Sparrow's very first real bad boy. C'mon, the guy is the son of a notorious crime lord, he grew up in one of the most exciting cities I know of and he definitely looks the part. Only instead of wild behavior and scandalous adventures, we get nights out with his mother and quiet lunches in the library." She looked at me with a sarcastic smile on her face. "He's you, only a guy."
"You know, if the acting thing doesn't work out, you should really consider stand-up comedy. You seem to be a natural," I snarled back, glaring at her as she walked towards the dressing rooms.
She chuckled, entering a room.
I checked to see if anyone else was close by. Sparrow was a small town. You could safely count on running into someone you knew wherever you went. Thankfully they were empty so I pressed on. "So are the rest of the girls disappointed as well?"
I could hear her laughing behind the door. She waited until she had the first outfit on before coming out and responding. It was the black sweater dress. It had long sleeves and a turtleneck, coming down to right above her knees. The contrast of the dark wool of the dress with her blonde hair and sea-green eyes was electrifying. Yes, Gretchen was one of those girls you loved to hate. She possessed a model's body, flawless skin, silky hair and captivating eyes. She could wear a garbage bag and it would look like something straight off the runway. On top of all that, she had a great heart and was incredibly giving and kind. When the whole Jackson debacle had happened, she had never turned on me for a second.
She examined herself in the full-length mirror. "Obviously everyone thought he was going to be different. Guess that's what happens when you have high expectations. The thing is, he doesn't seem to want to form any friendships and he hasn't asked anyone on a date. It's like he just wants to go to his classes and graduate, with no interest in extracurricular activities." She walked back into the dressing room.
I figured she still had about half a dozen other items to try on, and I needed a few minutes to analyze this new info further. "Umm... I'll be in the food court. I suddenly have a craving for a smoothie," I yelled through the door.
"Meet you there in a few. I need to get something to eat before reporting back for duty," she called back.
As I made my way through the mall, I thought about what Gretchen had said. She was right. Gabriel Valente was a paradox. He came from a world we had only seen in movies and yet his actions thus far made it seem like what he wanted was to just live a normal life. If that truly was his intention, it would be a fruitless attempt. His looks alone set him apart. Couple that with his eventful past and he quickly became the most sought after ingredient for Sparrow High's gossip mill. Yesterday I had thought about the differences between us, but after thinking about what Gretchen had said, I couldn't deny that we did share some similarities. The most notable being his preference for privacy. I also knew he had an appreciation for books.
But that was all in the here and now. He may be leading a relatively quiet existence now, but I had no clue what his life had been like in New York before his arrest. All I knew is that it must have included the deepest kind of pain. Losing his brother must have changed him, but how? Had he been a carefree kid and then shocked into reality by Isaac Jr.'s gruesome death? Or had he been taught about death and loss at a much earlier age, in preparation for the nightmares that always had a real chance of coming true for members of a mob family.
There were too many questions buzzing through my mind as I walked up to the counter and ordered a strawberry smoothie. As I waited for my drink, I couldn't help but smile about something else Gretchen had mentioned. Gabriel hadn't asked any girl from Sparrow High on a date. I bet that was driving the secret service crazy! I kept laughing to myself as I took my drink and sat at a small table away from the crowd. I had to admit, I was curious to know why he wasn't making a play for anyone. Sparrow may be a small town, but there were definitely some lookers. My best friend was one of them. Then a thought occurred to me that made my stomach turn. Maybe he wasn't dating any high school girls, but that didn't mean he wasn't dating any girls. It shouldn't have surprised me that he very well could be into older women. And he was probably keeping it low key, which is why no one had mentioned anything about it to Gretchen.
I set my drink on the table, my stomach suddenly in knots. As if I cared? He could just go running around with whatever tramp he wanted, it was no concern of mine. Unfortunately that didn't stop the unsettling images of Gabriel with someone else from clouding my thoughts. I saw Gretchen approaching with a bag in her hand. She had finally settled on something. At least one of us would be having fun tonight. I would undoubtedly be having dreams of Gabriel and some faceless woman, engaging in all kinds of scandalous activities.
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"Hello, Athena," Mr. Robertson said as I entered the bookstore.
It was a rainy Sunday afternoon and I had been looking forward to my shift all morning. The rain was a sure sign business would be slow, which meant I could get some reading in.
"Late night?" Mr. Robertson asked. "Out with your friends, maybe?"
I tried to ignore the hint of hope I heard in his voice. Mr. Robertson had become like a second father to me. He had fostered my love for stories, but also had made no secret that he thought I needed to spend more time with people my own age. I wouldn't have put it past my mother to weasel him into trying to make me more social.
"Actually, I just spent the night at home reading. Why do you ask?" I said, trying to hide my irritation. Mr. Robertson was a sweet man. His wife, Edith, had died four years ago. They hadn't had any children and all he really had left was the store. He was a great boss, but also a great friend. Though sometimes, even friends could get on your nerves.
"Oh, well, it just looks like you didn't get much sleep. You look tired," he explained.
Busted. Although I had spent the night at home, I hadn't been reading, for once. I had lied in my bed, trying desperately to fall asleep. Instead, visions of Gabriel with every twenty-something woman I knew in Sparrow had haunted my thoughts. They were images that had kept me tossing and turning for most of the night. No matter how hard I had tried not to, I kept seeing him with his charming smile and sparkling eyes, sweeping some nameless beauty off her feet with just a few simple words from his buttery lips. And of course she would fall for him. How could she not? Even the strongest of women wouldn't be able to resist him.
"The rain kept me up. I'm okay though," I lied. In truth, the rain was usually so soothing to me that it would lull me to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. However, not even the steady drum of raindrops could melt away the disconcerting thoughts in my mind. I put my name tag on and began to fix up the displays at the front of the store.
"By the way, Athena, you have a note here waiting for you."
I looked up to see Mr. Robertson holding up a white envelope. "A note?" I repeated, the surprise clearly visible in my voice. "Who is it from?"
"I'm not sure. It was slipped under the door either late last night after I closed up or early this morning."
Strange. Why would someone leave a note for me at Robertson's? Everyone I knew had both my cell phone number and email address. When communication was only a click away, writing anything by hand was considered a lost art form. I walked over to retrieve the envelope. "Thanks, Mr. Robertson."
"Sure thing. When you're done with the displays, I received a few boxes of new books yesterday. They'll need to be organized and stocked."
"Of course, I'll get right on it," I said, barely paying attention to what he was saying. I was too intrigued by the way my name was written on the front of the envelope. Whoever had left me this note had exquisite handwriting. Mr. Robertson went into the back room, leaving me only with my mysterious letter and the beat of the rain outside. I ripped open the envelope and hastily removed a folded white sheet of paper. There was a short message written inside:
Tomorrow, same time, same place?
I'll bring lunch. Hope to see you there.
GV
I stood motionless, just staring at the sheet of paper in my hand, my breath caught in my throat. Gabriel had invited me to lunch, and he had done it in the form of a personally delivered handwritten note. Not a text or an IM or an email. This note had taken effort, and the effort made was for me. So, was meeting someone for lunch in the school library a date? Now I was really letting my imagination get away with me. I couldn't let that happen. I was a realist, after all. He was probably just looking to interrogate me some more, which was fine since there was a thing or two I wanted to ask him myself. I didn't have any classes with him, so having lunch with him in the library would be a perfect opportunity to have a few of my own questions answered. It was settled. I'd be having lunch with him tomorrow. I folded the note and placed it in my purse, telling myself over again that it wasn't a date. We were just...meeting.