Gale’s Rose - Chapter Two

Rubio’s POV

Present

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Of all the confusing, life-altering shit going through my head right now, the angry look on Gale’s resident advisor’s face barely registers enough for me to acknowledge that it's kind of earned. 

I may have been pounding obnoxiously loud on a door in the otherwise silent dormitory hallway before the sun had even risen on a Sunday morning. But really, checking the clock before rushing over here to tell Gale how wildly wrong I’ve been the whole time I’ve known him wasn’t exactly high on the priority list.  

“How did you even get in here?” Luke–the usually quite friendly and helpful, although currently angry at this particular moment, resident advisor–barrels on when I just stand here and blink uncomprehendingly at him. 

Fuck, I’m such a mess right now. Too much is going through my head, which I should almost be used to by now because that’s been a consistent thing for the past three months I’ve known Gale. It doesn’t help that I haven’t slept yet after one of the most ‘realigning everything I thought I knew about life and where it’s headed’ kind of nights I’ve ever had.  

“It was propped open,” I mutter out, finally finding my voice. 

“Goddammit,” Luke sighs loudly, focused more on my answer than on me. “I need to figure out who keeps doing that shit.”

I’d roll my eyes if my brain weren’t quite as offline as it seems to be at the moment, because it’s pretty much everyone who is doing that, and they’ll never get people to stop. It’s how residents sneak people in and out. Even if they figure out how to get them to stop leaving the doors propped open, they’ll just find another way. 

“Why are you pounding on Gale’s door before the asscrack of dawn, Rubio?” he practically barks, focusing back on me.

“He’s not answering,” I hook my thumb towards Gale’s door.

“Of course he’s not answering. He’s not here.” 

I frown at that. “Of course he’s here; we have hiking plans.” 

I’m actually way early for the hiking plans, but considering how early it is now and knowing we have them in just a couple of hours, where else would he be on a Sunday morning if not in his dorm? Especially since I know Vane dropped him off here last night.  

“Well, obviously there was a miscommunication because I dropped him off at the airport just after midnight so he could catch the red-eye flight home,” Luke grumbles almost petulantly, and the guilt of realizing I probably just woke him up out of a dead sleep after he didn’t go to bed until at least one in the morning starts to creep in. Doesn’t really help the confusion or the spiral going on in my head, though, nor the ability to process his response because it doesn’t make sense.  

“But this is his home.”

He hooks an eyebrow at me as though I’m missing something obvious. “No. This is a college dormitory. His home is in Ferry Vale.” 

And that’s when it lands. He went home, home. He was upset last night. I saw it on his face when he left, but there was so much going on that I couldn’t do anything about it yet. I thought we’d talk about it today on the hike we had planned. I didn’t think he was upset enough to just leave without saying anything. 

“Did he say when he was coming back?”

He must see something on my face because his expression softens a bit. “It’s fall break, so I’m assuming next weekend.”

My mind twists uncomfortably at that, an alarm ringing in the back of my head. I can’t wait a week. It’s taken me three months to get my head to completely realign everything I thought I knew about what I wanted and where I was going, and I’ve strung him along the way. I may be grossly overestimating the effect I’ve had on him, but if it’s even in the same ballpark as the effect he’s had on me, then there’s no way I can wait another week before I tell him. If only there were a way…

“You have access to his home address, though, don’t you?” 

The way Luke’s face twists is unpleasant. “We call that confidential information,” he says as if he’s explaining to a two-year-old why sticking their fingers into sockets is a bad idea.  

“Right, but–” 

“No buts, Rubio, I could get fired or even expelled for that.”

“Only if Gale complains, and I promise you, if it’s me you’re giving it to, he won’t complain. Please, I fucked up, and I just need to go and fix it. I promise he won’t be upset that you gave it to me,” I plead my case.  

Luke rolls his eyes while crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s this lovely invention called a cell phone.” 

I immediately shake my head, that uncomfortable twist in my brain telling me it’s not enough. I have to get to him. It can’t wait a week, and a phone call isn’t enough. Can’t say there isn’t a huge part of my impatience that doesn’t come from not knowing whether I can handle a full week without his sweet smiles and pretty eyes on me–a bit ridiculous because I only met him three months ago, but the discomforting feeling that something is wrong is the driving force of me being a little more pushy than I’d normally be. 

“There are some conversations that can’t be had over the phone. Please, man.” 

Luke glares at me for a solid thirty seconds before his face softens again. “Fine. But I’m only doing this because he left crying. Crying, Rubio, and no one is more protective over him than you are, so if you’re the one who made him cry, then you’d better fucking fix it.” 

My heart clenches painfully at that. I hate that I did that. It is fundamentally wrong for him to be in pain. I wish I could take it back, to have said what I needed to say, when I needed to say it, but the moment has passed, and I can’t undo what I’ve done. But I can at least tell him now, well, as soon as I catch up to him anyway.

“Thanks, man, you’re the best.” 

“I swear if I end up expelled over this, I’m taking you down with me,” he grumbles, turning on his heel and motioning for me to follow. 

* * *

The disconcerting feeling that began early this morning has worsened since then. Even while actively moving towards Gale to fix this, it’s just grown into something bleak and ominous. 

Am I too late? I’ve had three months of his attention so focused on me that I took it for granted he’d always be that way. But he’s so open, friendly, and genuine; it’s only a matter of time before someone else notices and gives him all the attention he deserves. Really hoping I didn’t fully watch that happen last night between him and Vane, and that I’m not a day too late. 

Or is it something else? Is it one of those feelings? The rare ones I’ve gotten sporadically through my life that feel like some sort of premonitory warning that something is coming. They aren’t always bad things; sometimes they are really good. But this one doesn’t feel good, and under the circumstances, that’s more than a little disconcerting. 

Gale should only be part of good feelings and good premonitions, and while part of me wonders if the ominous tone is simply that I’m just too late, something tells me it’s not that simple. A sense of dread is building in the back of my head that it’s something… dangerous. 

I should have never let him leave the party with Vane last night. I should have taken him home, but I was overwhelmed with what I needed to do and the best way to go about it, and I let him down in a way I haven't before. But whatever is happening now, I should be with him, not jumping oceans to get to him.

So completely consumed with everything that’s happened over the last few days, I barely even paid attention to the town on the way to his house. If everything works out, maybe he can show me around later. 

Gale wasn’t lying about living on the outskirts of Ferry Vale, considering his house is about as far out as it can get while still staying within the town limits. I worried the driver had misheard the address until the picturesque cottage appeared, nestled beside a tangled canopy of trees. 

A spindly walkway leads to a quaint two-story home. The walls are cream-colored, or at least what I can see of them between the lattice and a wild array of vines wrapped around it. The doors and trim match the lattice and the roof, which has touches of moss. 

In front of the house, and wrapping around the sides, are flower beds full of vivid purples, yellows, oranges, and reds. Hunched in front of one of the flower beds is a woman in a straw hat and dirt-covered overalls. 

When I open the door to get out of the car, she turns towards me. Wisps of the same light brownish-golden hair as Gale have haphazardly escaped from beneath the hat as she focuses on me. 

Awkwardness creeps in because I’ve been so solely focused on getting to Gale that I haven’t really paused to think about the variables. Such as, would he actually appreciate me showing up on his doorstep completely unannounced? Or introducing myself to whom I’m assuming is his mother? Or would she appreciate the unannounced drop-in from some strange guy her son has only known for three months? Or is this just the most ridiculous definition of accidental stalking ever?

Bit too late to worry about that now, as she walks toward me with friendly eyes. At least she looks as kind as her son, so even if she doesn’t appreciate my presence, she most likely won’t be overly harsh or cruel about it. Hopefully. 

“Um, hi. I’m a friend–of Gale’s–from Cal Poly.” I stumble over my words while hooking my thumb in the general direction of where I think Cal Poly would be, like I’m some sort of ridiculous compass. I'd never really considered myself an awkward person, but then again, I'd never considered myself the type of person to cross an ocean just to tell a pretty boy I might have a bigger crush on him than I thought.  

“Gale’s not here right now. He’s…” Her voice trails off while she takes me in, her eyes creasing with worry when she looks at my face. 

I didn’t stop to look at myself on the way here, but after being up for more than twenty-four hours, with maybe a two-hour nap on a plane, I’d imagine I look a little worse for wear. I run my fingers through my hair, hoping it helps a little, but then I realize how I look right now is the least important thing to be spiraling over at the moment.  

“He’s in there, right?” I point towards the heavy canopy of trees just beyond the house.

Gale has never held back on how much he loves the woods here. He’s told me all about them with his enthusiastic exuberance and his beautiful smiles that light up his gorgeous stormcloud blue-grey eyes. With the million stories he’s told, it’s clear he spends more time in them than at home. So I feel it’s safe to assume that after being gone for months, if he’s not home, he’d be in the woods he loves so much. 

His mom’s eyes soften, and she smiles at me in a way that confirms my observation. Almost a silent approval that I paid attention to him enough to deduce where he’d be without being told. Not like it’s hard. He draws me in without even trying. Sometimes just watching the way he breathes during the random moments when he’s pensive is enough to hold me spellbound. 

“I’m Hazel, Gale’s mom, and you must be Rubio,” she says, reaching a hand out for me to shake.  

I lightly shake her hand. “How do you know that?”

“Who else would you be?” She shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“I–okay,” I respond, kind of just going with it because I’m still not sure how she knew it was me. Surely he’s met other people at Cal Poly. I know at least two other friends he would have mentioned besides me. I mean, yes, he knows those two friends because I introduced him to them, but they’ve become friends since then for reasons beyond just knowing me. And he may be better friends with one of them than I realized, but that’s kind of on me, and hopefully I’m on the right path to fixing that.   

“You look like you haven’t slept in days. Gale should be home in a couple of hours, so you could just take a nap until he gets back,” she says, motioning for me to follow her to the cottage.  

For the briefest moment, I consider the offer because my tank is definitely running on empty, but that ominous feeling throbs in my brain, and I shake my head. “I really need to talk to him now. If you could just tell me which trail I might find him on.”

She pauses and assesses me for a minute, probably deciding on whether she’s going to put her foot down on that nap or not. If it weren’t for the trepidatious feeling in the back of my head, I’d probably give in, but not today. I won’t feel at ease enough to sleep until I see him anyway. 

She must see it in my face, though, because she gives me a clipped nod. “I’ll do you one better and send you with a guide,” she says, then pops the front door open. “Felix, come here,” she hollers. 

“There are some things you should know before you go traipsing after him,” she continues while a redheaded guy decked out in a light green T-shirt and dark green shorts slowly creeps up behind her like he’s trying to sneak up on her. 

“Like this guy behind me who thinks he’s being sneaky is Felix,” she says, hooking a thumb right at him without missing a beat. “He’s my best friend’s son and one of Gale’s closest friends.”

I take him in a bit more closely, knowing who he is from some of the many stories Gale has told me about him. For the longest time, I’d been under the impression he was his year-younger brother from the way he talked about him; he eventually corrected me and said they are about as closely related as two people can be without actually being related. Side effects of coming from several generations of best friends or something like that. From what Gale has said, Felix is a prankster and a bit emotionally stunted. Gale kind of always made him seem like some cross between Vane’s games and Parker’s chattiness. 

“Aw!” the guy groans. “One of these days, I’ll get you,” he tacks on. 

“You’ve been saying that since you could talk, and you haven’t even gotten close,” she teases back as his lip puffs out in a pout. 

“Silly,” she chuckles while reaching up to ruffle his hair affectionately. “Gale went to Autumn’s Orchard in The Thistles, and his friend, Rubio, needs to find him. Do you mind showing him the way?”

Felix’s eyes meet mine for the briefest moment before his brow wrinkles with confusion, and he turns back to Hazel. “You want me to take him to The Thistles? But he’s like, well, you know,” he leans in towards her and whispers, “a full human…”

A full human? I raise an eyebrow over at Hazel because I’m tired, but I’m not that fucking tired. She just looks back and gives me a sympathetic smile. 

“Did Gale ever mention anything… well, odd, about Ferry Vale?”

“Odd, like…?”

A delighted smile curls slowly across Felix's face. “Don’t worry, Mama K. I’ll fill him in along the way,” he says with a glint in his eye that I do not trust even a little bit. 

“Felix, you get him to Gale and do not run him off, you hear?” she says warningly.

“I swear I’ll be the best guide to have ever guided,” he says with a grin that only adds to the distrust. If it weren’t for knowing he was Gale’s friend and also knowing that his tricks are more annoying than actually malicious, according to Gale and the many stories he’s told, I would not trust running off anywhere with this guy.

“If he gives you any trouble, you just come back here and let me know,” she says, turning back to me. “And here, take some apples with you for a snack. You look like you’re one strong breeze away from falling over.”

She's not exactly wrong, but finding Gale is more important than sleep right now. I give her one more smile before turning toward the woods spread out behind the cottage. That uncomfortable thrum lessens ever so slightly, as if to say I'm heading in the right direction.