A/N: Good morning, folks! How are you on this bright and sunny day? Yes, it's bright and sunny in England. We're almost living California style :P I hope you enjoyed this. This chapter was kinda fun to write :D

Enjoy x

Chapter 11

What was she thinking? Her friendship with him had been inevitable when she had been born and had been out of her control. Still, she'd had the choice to leave before her feelings had developed into something she honestly didn't want. She could've lived quite happily without ever having fallen in love with him. She could've chosen to avoid those feelings, but did she choose to have those feelings? She couldn't remember actually choosing to feel anything for him.

Still, who would actually choose to feel this way?

Turning away from the vomit-inducing sight in front of her, she focussed on her work. That was the thing: she was way out of his league. Her idea of a good time was scuba diving to look at starfish. That was such a turn on. Besides, to him, she was invisible. She was his buddy, his pal...his friend.

Steph sighed and leaned back in her chair, stretching her stiff back muscles. She'd been in the university library for almost an hour and she'd written a paragraph. One lone paragraph. So her aim to finish her essay was not going to be fulfilled. But it wasn't her fault.

It was his.

Andy had decided to bring one of his friends from one of his lectures to the library and for the last hour, all Steph had heard were the girl's squeaky, mouse-like giggles. Steph liked to think that she didn't judge books by their covers. Metaphorically, at least. But, this girl, Georgia, if her memory served her correctly, was actually really annoying. And a bitch. And really flirty. Not in the attractive way that a lot of people found cute or sweet. Steph had seen girls flirt in a way that she had labelled, rather aptly, 'disgustingly desperate'. As in, resorting to practically stripping in front of the guy for attention.

In this case, said guy was Andy. And he was actually giving this girl attention. Maybe he wasn't inviting her to sleep with him, but he was unknowingly encouraging her.

That was the worst thing about it: he didn't have a clue. Maybe it was in the genes. After all, Troy was rather oblivious to how much he and Gabriella should be together.

Still, Steph liked to believe she wasn't the jealous type. She was a an attractive, intelligent young woman, the result of such qualities being that she'd had her fair share of experience with boys. But despite the relationships that she'd been a part of in her past, she'd never really felt jealous. Sure, she got annoyed if a girl flirted with her boyfriend. But she didn't feel the sickening, stomach churning, suffocating jealousy that raged through her veins that she felt that minute.

She and Andy had always been teased about how their friendship would 'obviously' (her dad's words, not hers) turn into something more. But she'd denied it because she didn't feel anything for Andy other than the love you are obligated to feel for an annoying, bratty older brother. But, then he changed. Or maybe it was her. Maybe she had just been ignorant of the truth for too long. Because the truth was, she loved him. She was truly, unconditionally, irrevocably in love with him.

And it made her sick.

She quickly saved the little work she had accomplished and logged off the computer. She wasn't surprised to find that both Andy and Georgia failed to notice that she'd packed her books away and had risen from her seat. She paused, having an inner debate as to whether she should announce her departure or just disappear.

She watched as Andy explained something mathematical, oblivious to Georgia's flirting and to the fact that Steph had packed her stuff up. Yes, it was better if she just disappeared.

She headed towards the door of the library, determined not to cry. What would crying achieve anyway? She knew what her friends, her mother, even Uncle Troy would tell her: she was worth more than that.

Just as she was pushing the door open, a hand caught her by the crook of her elbow. She turned, coming face to face with Andy. She didn't say anything, just offered him a small, unconvincing smile.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "I thought we were studying together."

"So did I," she whispered. "But, believe it or not, in my naivety, I kind of assumed that 'we' referred to just you and me. I didn't want to be a third wheel." She headed outside, Andy following her.

"Steph, talk to me. What's really going on?" he asked.

Steph turned to him with a sarcastic smile. "You bastard. I'm your best friend. And you totally blew me off back there."

"I did not blow you off," he exclaimed.

She nodded. "That's right. You just didn't speak to me at all ever since you brought her to study. It's disgusting how she acts."

Andy shrugged helplessly. "She wanted my help."

"Well," Steph began slowly, "to save me from bringing my lunch back up, I think my dad's going fishing. I think I'll join him."

Andy frowned. "Steph, you get sea sick."

She shrugged. "It'd be more pleasurable than watching her trying to seduce you."

Before he could respond, she turned around and marched her way off campus. He didn't follow and she didn't know whether she was grateful or if she was more pissed off because of that. All of her life, when she'd wanted to cry, or she was so angry that she feared she might hurt somebody, or when she felt like giving up, she turned to Andy. He always knew what to do.

But, he honestly didn't have a clue.

"Are you feeling okay today?" Troy asked quietly. He attempted to sound casual but Gabriella could hear the worry in his voice.

She slid out from under the car, on a creeper. She looked up at him. "I'm fine," she whispered as she got to her feet. "Stop worrying about me. My family do that enough by themselves."

"You can't blame them. Look, Jamie's on call out. You can tell me the truth," he murmured.

Gabriella frowned. "I am telling the truth. I'm fine. I haven't drunk anything, if that's what you're asking."

Troy sighed. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

Gabriella walked over to the table to put the spanner away in her tool box. She turned to Troy and sighed. "I promised that I'd call you if I was ever in trouble. Isn't that enough?"

Before Troy could reply, a clatter caught his attention. On the pavement outside of the garage, Steph was in a crumpled heap, her stuff surrounding her. He rushed out to help her, Gabriella following. "Steph, are you okay?" he asked as he crouched down to pick her stuff up.

Gabriella crouched next to Troy and frowned at Steph's silence as she slid some papers together. "Steph, what's wrong?"

Steph wiped her eyes and shook her head. "It's all your fault." She pointed accusingly at Troy.

Troy sighed and grabbed her hand to pull her up. "What did Andy do this time?"

"Just let me go home," she muttered.

Gabriella touched the younger woman's arm. "Steph, why don't you go into the back office and calm down. I don't think you should be alone right now."

Steph paused but then shook her head. "I really just want to go home."

Gabriella shook her head. "That's the last thing you want. You can tell me. Trust me. I'm almost twenty years older than you. Not only does that make me feel incredibly old, but it also means that I know how you feel."

Steph glanced at Troy. "I'm sorry but I really don't want to talk around Uncle Troy."

He sighed and gestured to the garage. "The empty office awaits." He waited until Steph had headed inside when he stopped Gabriella. "Forget the car, concentrate on her, okay?"

She smiled and nodded. "Don't worry. I've been there. She'll cheer up in no time. I promise. But, if Andy dares come within a mile's radius of this place, send him away. I don't care where you send your son, but he's the last thing that poor girl needs."

Troy saluted her. "Don't worry, when it comes to Steph, I know that my son's an idiot."

Gabriella giggled. "Certainly seems that way." They kept looking at each other for a moment before Gabriella gave him a final smile and headed to the back office. She shut the door behind her and sat down opposite Steph. "When did you know?"

"Huh?" she muttered, creasing her forehead in confusion.

"When did you know you loved Andy?" Gabriella asked quietly.

Steph shrugged, pushing a lock of her red hair out of her face. "I don't know. Maybe I was seventeen. Something like that. I didn't choose to love him. Who would want this? I didn't wake up one day and choose to feel this way." She paused, running a finger along the edge of Troy's desk. "I thought it was a harmless crush at first. I thought it'd pass. But, here I am, at twenty, pining away for a guy who doesn't look at me twice."

Gabriella gave her a sad smile. "Do you know why he doesn't look at you twice?"

Steph shook her head. "Why is it?"

"Men are idiots," she murmured.

Steph smiled slightly. "Have you ever been in love?"

Gabriella nodded. "Yeah. I have."

"How did you survive? I mean, I just feel like throwing up whenever I see Andy," she exclaimed.

Gabriella frowned. "I almost didn't survive," she whispered.

"Gabi, you're cool and everything, but that last statement didn't put a load of confidence in me," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Gabriella laughed. "Steph, it sucks when you love someone who doesn't love you back. I'll be the first to admit that. You waste so much time hoping that they'll turn your way, just for a minute. And then you realise what you're doing, how much time you've wasted on someone who doesn't seem to care, and that's when it hurts the most. But, when you find someone who loves you back, it's wonderful. It's wonderful because that person, that person who is right for you, won't care that you like underwater creatures more than people."

Steph cracked a smile. "Especially starfish."

"They won't care about that, either. They won't care that you cry so much that your makeup runs. They won't care about that stuff because they'll just love you. And it's beautiful," she whispered.

Steph frowned. "What if it ends? How do you survive?"

Gabriella stared at her shoes, suddenly thinking that they were the most fascinating things in the world. "Steph, you're only twenty. Even if you and Andy do get together, there's still a chance it'll end but you can't think about that. If everyone thought that way, humans would just die out. You've just got to go for it and, if it does end, remember it for all the right reasons."

Steph looked across at the older woman. "Gabi, do you have anybody? I mean, is there anyone you've been in love with?"

"Just one guy," she whispered. "I think about him every day. Not because I necessarily want him back. In fact, I'm better off without him. But, I know that I wouldn't be me if I'd never been with him." She paused. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Steph nodded and gave her a brave smile. "Yeah, I do. But, what should I do about Andy?"

Gabriella shrugged. "Do whatever feels right. If that's walking up to him and telling him how you feel, go for it. If that's just waiting it out, that's fine, too. But, while you feel this way, don't get with another guy. You can't force yourself to fall out of love with someone. If you're with someone else, you'll feel guilty and you'll be upset and you'll feel worse."

Steph smiled. "Thanks. Do you think Uncle Troy would mind if I studied in here for a while?"

Gabriella shook her head as she stood up. "He'll be fine with it. Steph, if you ever want someone to talk to about this stuff, come and find me. I know it can be difficult talking to your mum and so just come and find me if you need me." She shut the door behind her and turned to find Troy stood only a foot away, looking like a deer caught in a headlight. "Eavesdrop much?" she joked as she headed towards the table and sat down.

Troy took a seat near her. "I couldn't resist. Is she okay?"

Gabriella nodded. "She'll be fine." She paused. "Hey, back there, when she said it was your fault, how did you know it was Andy?"

He shrugged. "She's been doing for years. Whenever Andy's done something wrong, she blames me."

"Did that start around when she was seventeen?" Gabriella asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Troy frowned. "Probably. Why?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes as she stood up. "Guys are idiots."

Alejandro Montez loved his job. He could never quite pinpoint the time when he realised that he wanted to help people. All he knew was that, for as long as he could remember, he'd wanted to be a doctor. More specifically, he wanted to be a paediatrician. He loved his job. His days were always full of smiles and laughter from the children. Of course, pushy and overprotective parents were also part and parcel of his job. But, it was a small price to pay for seeing a healthy child able to go home with their parents.

It seemed crazy, he knew. Being a parent was a full-time occupation. And when he wasn't home, taking care of his son and daughter, he was at the hospital, taking care of other people's children. Being a parent meant pushing a pink doll's pram because your daughter is tired and you forget about your masculinity. Being a parent meant being awake all night because your new baby is crying all night, and still able to get to work on time. Being a parent meant going without a Christmas present so that you could afford the specific bike that your little boy wanted.

Being a parent meant helping children when their biological parents couldn't.

Alejandro was not exempt to feeling the heartbreaking worry that you might lose your child. He'd stood on the sidelines, watching helplessly as his colleagues assessed and assisted both his daughter, Natali, and his son, Daniel, at one time or another. He'd promised himself that, no matter the problem, he'd never treat his children for anything. He didn't want to be just another person in a white coat that gave them injections that hurt or medicine that tasted disgusting. He wanted both Natali and Daniel to see him as a father, not a doctor.

The problem with being a doctor was that the people you wanted to help the most, your family, were sometimes the hardest to treat.

He knew that better than most.

Alejandro smiled at the little girl who was sat up in her bed, playing with a doll and an array of miniature clothing. "Good afternoon, Miss. How are we feeling today?"

She frowned down at her arm which was connected to an IV drip. "When will my arm be free?"

"Just a few more days," he said softly.

Before he could even pick up her chart, a nurse approached him. "Doctor Montez," she began quietly.

He could tell, just from her tone, that something was wrong. He thought up a hundred possibilities: the little boy with epilepsy having a seizure, the little girl with meningitis flat lining, the little girl with leukaemia starting to be unresponsive to her treatment. But nothing could've prepared him for the next five words that left her mouth.

"You've got a phone call," she muttered before she walked back to the nurses' station.

He frowned. "I'll be back in a minute, Sweetheart," he assured the little girl before he headed towards the nurses' station. He tentatively picked up the phone. "This is Doctor Alejandro Montez."

"Alejandro," Greg said softly.

Alejandro rolled his eyes. "Dad, if this is about Mum yelling at you every time you complain about not being able to fix cars anymore, I've told you, you're both as bad as each other."

"No," Greg murmured. "Mi hijo (A/N: my son) have you seen the news?"

Alejandro laughed. "Dad, I work with kids. The TV doesn't vary much from Handy Manny and The Night Garden. Why? Dad, just tell me what's wrong."

Greg sighed. "There's been a bombing. In Afghanistan."