I'll Be Home For Christmas
by: LunarEclipse360
A/N: I am so, so, so sorry for making you guys wait for this. Here's what happened. The week after Christmas, my best friend slept over for a couple of nights and then I went to visit my aunt for New Years. On top of that, I was not satisfied with what I wrote, so this chapter has been rewritten so many times, I lost count. So, here it is. Late, but better late than never right? I'm trying to decide if I will end this story in the next chapter or give you all another one(though if I do that, this story might not finish until February). Anyway, feel free to point out spelling/grammatical errors.
Chapter 5
This had to have been his most stupid moment ever.
His fingers were aching as the mix between the freezing temperatures and the cold metal made contact with his appendages. Why hadn't he thought to put on his gloves before deciding to fill his empty gas tank? He swore that they were going to fall off at some point. Staring at the moving numbers on the gauge, wishing for them to move faster, he failed to notice the approaching brunette, whose eyes conveyed concern for the pained look on his face. Taking her gloved hand from her pocket, she touched his shoulder and startled him slightly.
"Shit, Gabriella, you could warn me next time."
"Sorry," she said, giving him an apologetic smile. "You okay?"
"Well," he started, "besides the fact that I'm pretty sure my fingers are about to fall off, I'm good. Just fucking great."
A small frown replaced her smile and she removed her gloves. He watched in curiosity as she rubbed her hands together and placed them over his. He felt her body heat warm his frozen skin and felt his body temperature rise significantly from the sudden contact. He was reminded of his teenage years when the touch from his first serious girlfriend brought a sudden increase in his body temperature. She hadn't noticed that his eyes were on her as she slowly rubbed her hands on his, trying to warm him up.
"Gabriella." She looked up, her gaze searching his. His mouth opened slightly, but closed as he decided not to speak what was on his mind. "Nevermind."
"What is it?"
He shook his head. "Nothing." Noticing that the numbers on the gauge had ceased, he looked at her hands, hoping that she would understand without him needing to voice it. She quickly removed them and stuck them into her pockets as he returned the nozzle to its holding base. Just as he turned to open the door, her voice stopped him and he glanced in her direction.
"I wanted to ask you something."
"Can you ask it when we're in the car? It's kind of freezing out here."
She nodded and walked around to the driver's side. After they pulled out of the gas station and was well on their way, he expected her to ask whatever it was she wanted to ask him before, but she stayed silent.
"So," he started, "what was it that you wanted to ask me?"
"Oh, I…" She bit her lip. "I just wanted to know how much longer we have before we reach New York."
"Shouldn't be long now," he answered, glancing at the clock. "Nineteen hours tops." Nodding, she turned her gaze to the world passing them by. Feeling that her question about how much longer this road trip was going to take wasn't what she wanted to ask, he tried to get her to tell him what it really was she wanted to know. "That's not really what you wanted to ask me, is it?"
"No, it was," she answered rather quickly.
"Gabriella, just ask me."
"Only if you promise to actually answer it and answer it truthfully."
"I promise," he said, though with much hesitation. He had a sinking feeling that he wasn't going to like what she had to ask.
She stayed silent for a while; opting to just staring at him before speaking up. "What happened?"
He glanced at her, uncertain of the question. "Gabriella, I think you're going to have to be a bit more specific."
"I mean," She sighed, "you told me that you don't go home very often, and if your tone was any inclination when you said it, you really meant that you haven't gone home at all since you graduated UCLA. Why? What happened to prevent you from visiting your parents?"
He really didn't expect for her to inquiry about that certain subject of his life. In all honesty, he hadn't even realized she picked up on the tones in which he spoke with. He guessed she observed him just as much as he observed her. Breathing deeply, his eyes darted from the front window to her face and back. He didn't want to answer, but he promised he would. And besides, she opened up to him about something that happened in her life; it would be rude not to return the favor.
"Remember when I told you I was in a band in high school?" She nodded. "Well, I was planning on it to become my career. I even majored in music theory in college. It was the only life that I wanted to live and I didn't care what my dad had to say about it. I still played basketball to make him happy, but music was my passion." He looked over at her; those dark eyes telling him to continue. "In my Junior year, I was noticed by an NBA scout and they wanted to draft me, but I turned them down. When my dad found out, all hell broke loose. We ended up getting into a fight when I came home that Christmas break. My mom tried to stop us, but it was no use. All those pent up emotions went off like a bomb and, soon, we were full out fist fighting." The light color of his eyes went dark as he recalled the moments afterwards. "She tried to physically stop us, getting in between us to keep us apart, and I…I hit her. I didn't mean to, it just happened. We were all in shock by what I did, but my dad was the first one to snap out of it. He looked at me, nothing but disgust written in his eyes that looked so much like mine, and said to me, 'get your shit and get the fuck out of my house.' I didn't bother hesitating. I quickly grabbed my unopened suitcase and left."
"And you haven't been back since?"
He shook his head. "No. Every time I think about going back…I flashback to that night and relive the hurt in my mother's eyes and it stops me. That, and the fact that I know my father will never forgive me for what I did."
"He will. He's your father."
Grinning sadly, he turned to her. "You don't know my dad. He likes to hold grudges for a very long time. He still hasn't forgiven his best friend since the third grade for dating my aunt."
"Seriously?"
Nodding, he turned back to the road. "I know. It's a weird thing to stay mad at someone about, but, like I said, he loves to hold grudges."
"That night, was that when you decided not to go into the music business?"
"No. That decision was made at a later date and had nothing to do with what happened that night."
"Oh. Then what made you give up music?"
"Well, to be honest, I haven't totally given it up. I teach guitar to anyone who wants to learn when I have the time."
"So, why did you chose a different career path?"
He shrugged. "I knew that it would take a while, if ever, for me to actually score a record deal and living in Los Angeles is not cheap. So, I changed my major at the last minute to marketing. Of course, it meant spending another year in school, but I had managed to get an internship that turned into a full fledge job when I graduated."
"So, when you said you grew up, you meant…?"
"I meant that I realized my dad was right."
"Meaning?"
Sighing, he switched lanes before answering her. "When I first decided to major in music, he told me that one day I would grow up and realize that what I was pursuing wasn't worth the fight. And that's exactly what I did."
"Troy…" He spared a glance her way. "You gave up something that was important to you because you didn't want to fight for it? That doesn't sound like the guy I know."
Grinning bitterly, he placed his elbow against the window and leant his head against his hand. "Well, you don't exactly know me, do you?"
Gabriella recoiled and nodded. "You're right. I don't. But the Troy I've gotten to know in the past day doesn't seem like someone who would give up without a fight. Then again, you willingly let someone you loved go without putting up a fight, so I guess I should have known better than to assume something."
The conversation had turned toxic and he knew that if he chose to respond to her, the words that would escape his lips would not be too pleasant. So he kept his mouth shut and kept his eyes on the road. But she hadn't caught onto his use of self-control and continued to tread dangerous waters.
"Nothing else to say? Is it because you know I'm right? Or…"
"For the love of God, Gabriella, if you don't shut up, you won't like anything that comes out of my mouth."
She kept her next thoughts to herself and turned away from him; preferring to stare out the window than to look at the man beside her. The tension that occupied the air in the car was so thick that you could cut it with a butter knife. And it stayed that way for the next ten hours until they reached Elyria, Ohio.
::
To say he missed her voice was a bit of an understatement. He'd gotten so used to hearing it over the past day and a half and wished that she would say something to him. But he knew in order for her to say something to him, he needed to say something first. He didn't know what to say, though. Should he apologize? No, because it wasn't his fault the argument started. Okay, maybe it was kind of his fault, but he wasn't going to be the first to apologize. If she hadn't have assumed, he wouldn't have gotten mad and the argument could have been avoided. Still… Glancing over in her direction, he saw that she had her head leaning against the window and her eyes closed. Was she asleep, or… He reached over and touched her arm, lightly. If she was awake, she didn't let him know that. She stayed unmoving.
"Gabriella," he called, but she didn't respond. "Come on, Gabriella, I know you're up. I need to talk to you."
"Unless it's to say that 'you're sorry,' I don't wanna hear it," she answered, keeping her eyes sealed shut.
"Why do I have to be the one to apologize?"
She opened her eyes and faced him. "Because it's your fault!" The tone of her voice made him cringe. "You became mad over nothing!"
"No, I became mad because you decided to assume you knew shit about me when you don't."
"Well, sorry for believing that you were the type of person that wouldn't just give up when he didn't think that it would work out in the end."
"You're forgiven."
If looks could kill, he knew he'd be dead by now. "You know what, Troy? Screw you. From here on end, don't speak to me. The minute we enter the city, drop me off at the nearest subway station and I'll make my way home on my own."
She said nothing more. Turning back to the window, she stared out of it with a fierce glare and ignored the feel of his eyes on her. He hadn't meant to make her this mad, hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. Sighing, he shifted his attention back to the road. He didn't know what he could do to fix this. Focusing on the road, he tried to think of a way to right things and he knew he had to figure it out before they reached New York City.
::
Pulling into the parking space, Troy didn't even get a chance to turn off the car before Gabriella got out, slamming the door behind her. He watched her walk towards the building that housed only restrooms, never once turning back. With a sigh, he got out and ran after her. When he reached her, he grabbed her wrist and made her face him. There was venom in her chocolate eyes, making them darker than they really were. His own electric blues expressed guilt as he stared down at her.
"Gabriella, can we please talk?"
"Didn't I make myself clear that I do not want to talk to you anymore? Or do I have to repeat myself?"
"I just…"
She put a hand up, stopping him from continuing. "I don't want to hear it." Snatching her arm from his grasp, she gave him one last seething look before walking away.
::
"How long?" she asked, her voice breaking the silence.
He glanced over quickly before turning his eyes to the GPS. "Four hours at most," he answered, hoping that the conversation wouldn't end there. But when she didn't say anything else, he knew that meant all talking was done. He sighed and moved his gaze to the road. "Gabriella, I'm sorry."
"Oh, now you want to apologize? Well, guess what, the opportunity for me to forgive you has passed." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared out at the passing scenery.
"Gabriella, please, I…"
She turned on the radio and turned it up loud. Annoyed, he switched it off and tried to talk, but she pulled out her headphones and increased the volume on her iPod to drown him out. He groaned and, reluctantly, focused on the road. He couldn't believe she was this stubborn. In need of a quick fill-up, he pulled into a roadside gas station and watched as she got out; saying nothing to him. He shook his head as he climbed out of his car and walked to the gas pump. As he finished filling his tank, Gabriella walked out of the store, her eyes focused on the car. Quickly, he closed the tank and went to intercept her before she could get back in. Her russet eyes glared at him, silently telling him to move, but he wasn't going to. He needed her to see that he wasn't going to back down from this; wasn't just going to give up like he would have done. He was tired of not fighting for what he wanted.
"Troy, move, I'm not in the mood."
"Not until you hear me out." With a roll of her eyes, she crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly. "I really am sorry about the things I said and I just want you to forgive me. The past few hours of you being mad at me has been the worst time of my life and I want it to end."
"I have a right to be mad at you, Troy."
"I know you do, but I don't want you to be mad anymore. Look," he said, running his fingers through his hair, "what will it take for you to forgive me?"
"I, honestly, don't know."
"Well, when you find out, please tell me." Reaching up, he took her face in his hand and brushed the pad of thumb against her cheek. "I don't want us to go back to being strangers when this is all over with. So, I hope that you find it in you to forgive me."
"I don't know if I can."
Feeling as if he were just burned, he stepped away from her, his hand falling away from her face, and walked back to the driver's side, his heart feeling like it weighed a ton within his chest. It shouldn't have surprised him that she wouldn't immediately forgive him. He had really hurt her in their last argument and it didn't help that he refused to apologize in the beginning. He would understand if she never wanted to see or speak to him again, but he hoped that it wouldn't come to that.
"Do you still want me to drop you off in the city when we get there? I could take you home. It's no problem to me."
She sighed and agreed. "Fine."
::
Sometime during the remaining time left on their travels, Gabriella fell asleep, leaving Troy to drive alone in the dark. By the time he reached the Pennsylvania/New Jersey border, it had begun to snow once more, causing him to slow his speed so the car wouldn't slide off the road. He tried not to glance over at the sleeping brunette, but he couldn't help himself. The closer they got to their destination, the more nervous he became. What would happen when they got to her door? Would she decide that he wasn't worth keeping in touch with? That he wasn't worth forgiving?
It was mostly smooth sailing as he drove down I-80. It wasn't until he got closer to the George Washington Bridge that he ran into a bit of traffic, but once he crossed over into The Bronx, traffic eased up. Before he knew it, he was crossing the Throgs Neck Bridge into Long Island and making his way towards the town of Hempstead, closer to the south side of the island. The beauty of the GPS system was that it led him straight to Gabriella's door. He sighed and prepared himself to wake the sleeping beauty beside him.
"Gabriella." He shook her lightly, waiting patiently as her eyes opened, slowly, and took in her surroundings. When they found his, she looked at him questioningly. "You're home."
She sat up and gazed out the window. "Already?"
"You were actually out for quite a while."
"It didn't feel that way," she commented as she stretched her stiff limbs, yawning in the process.
Without another word, Troy popped the trunk and got out. He was aware of her every move as he retrieved her suitcase from the back of his car. His body seemed to sense when she came to stand beside him, grabbing the bag from his hand. He looked up when her hand brushed his; his eyes found hers and she smiled, though it wasn't as sincere as he would have liked it.
"Are we…okay?" he asked, hoping that she'd say 'yes.'
"Somewhat. I'm still mad at you, though."
He nodded. "That's fine. As long as you forgive me…"
"Troy, I haven't actually forgiven you."
"What? But you said…"
"I'm kidding," she said, her smile a bit more sincere than it had been.
"That's just cruel." His eyes narrowed playfully.
She giggled and it was like music to his ears. "Thank you," she said after her laughter subsided, "for including me on this journey."
"You're welcome."
"Well, I should get inside before I freeze."
"And I should get to my parents' house before I get locked out."
The smile she graced him with was the same one he had the pleasure of seeing many times over the course of their road trip. It was one that made his heart stop. He reached up, subconsciously, and touched her cheek; his lips quirked when she leaned into his hand, eyes closing.
"Merry Christmas, Gabriella."
Brown met blue as she looked up at him, softening her gaze. "Merry Christmas, Troy."
She stepped away from him and he watched as she walked towards her front door, sparing him a backwards glance with every passing second. He waited until she was safe inside of her home before climbing back into his car and heading to his parents'.
::
It had been too long since he'd seen the façade of his childhood home, but he wasn't eager to exit his car and walk up to the door. He had to block out the voice that told him to turn the car around and find a hotel room instead. Sighing, he managed to get out and go to the trunk, pulling his suitcase out of it. It took everything in him to walk up the pathway to the front door and knock. He strained his ears to make out any sound that told him that someone was still awake. It was late, after all; nearing on eleven at night. When no one answered, he knocked again and tried the knob. Surprisingly, it was unlocked. He stepped inside the dark house and looked around.
"Mom? Dad?"
He was met by silence and moved into the kitchen. On the refrigerator was a note, written in his mother's delicate handwriting. He placed his bags on the floor and snatched the piece of paper from the magnet holding it.
Troy,
Your dad and I went to bed early. Sorry for not waiting up for you. There's leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry. I made up the bed in your old room, so feel free to use it. Oh, and I'm so glad you've come home. I've missed you so much.
-Mom
He smiled at the note in his hand before folding it up and putting it in his pocket. He wasn't so hungry as he was tired. Grabbing his bags, he headed towards his old bedroom and relished in the fact that it remained unchanged. There were still posters on his wall from the bands he used to listen to and there were numerous trophies from competitions he'd participated in situated on shelves strategically placed around the room. He never thought he'd miss the place until he found himself standing in the doorway. Sighing, he placed his bags by the door and stripped out of his clothes, not bothering to change into something warmer. His mother constantly kept the house warm because she hated the cold. Closing the door, he made himself comfortable on his bed and counted the ceiling tiles until he passed out from exhaustion.