“Whatever it is, it’s disgusting.”

“Yvonne, it isn’t me.”

“Then who is it? Huh? If it isn’t you, then who is it?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Try.”

“I can’t. I can’t explain myself. It won’t make sense to you. I-I can’t—”

“Tell me, Gabriel.” Because this is your last chance, buster.

“Quite simply, I was… I was being someone else back there. I’m different from most people, so putting on an act like that is a logical solution to the problem. Like applying… arithmetic. Yes. Back at that party, I was being the person they want me to be, the person they need me to be for them to…”

Tears stung the corners of Yvonne’s eyes. She brushed them away, her lower lip trembling. Gabriel reached out as if to comfort her.

She stepped back. “No. Gabriel, I feel like I don’t even know you! Okay, so say that the person back there isn’t you. You’ve said that before, but I know what I saw, and I can’t stand to see you waste yourself that way. If you were just drinking and having a good time… God! If only! I don’t care about that. But the way you… it’s as if you…”

“What?” Gabriel stood tall and stiff, like a fragile brick wall in front of a wrecking ball.

“You weren’t having a good time. You never drink because you want to have a good time.”

“Then what am I doing, exactly?”

“Active self-destruction.” Yvonne swallowed her tears, wrapping her arms around her body.

“Why the hell would I do that? It’s not logical. It’s not—”

“Human beings aren’t logical! It’s not in our nature. We’re fundamentally illogical creatures. We’re not math problems that you can simply solve and be done with. It doesn’t work that way.”

“I’m logical. Why can’t others be just as straight to the point and logical as I am?”

“You think drinking yourself to an early grave is logical?”

“It’s… that’s not what I’m… ” His lips parted, a hint of strained self-deception appearing in his eyes. “I’m not an addict, Yvonne. I drink by choice.”

“Gabriel, I love you. I love you because you’re a weird, amazing shape, and I know that it’s hard, because it’s a shape that doesn’t easily fit into the world. I get it. But if you’re just going to destroy yourself, I can’t.”

“You can’t… what?”

“I can’t just sit by and watch it happen. I can’t just partake in it, ignore it, and pretend that it’s okay. I just can’t.” She sniffled, forcing herself not to break down sobbing. Not now. Not while he’s watching me. She wiped the tears from her eyes.

Gabriel stood there like a jagged icicle. He was silent, but beneath the hard exoskeleton he presented her with, she knew he was seething with anger. “So,” he said through gritted teeth, “this conversation is really about alcohol, isn’t it?”

“How old were you when you started drinking, baby?”

“Sixteen. Answer my question.”

“Gabriel, you drink too much. That’s the objective truth of it. It just is.”

His eyes became slits. “Don’t you get it?” he growled. “It’s the only way I can fit in. The only way I can be human.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not the only—”

“Yes, goddammit! Yes, it is!” His face transformed into something monstrous and red, and his eyes turned into solid steel.

Yvonne jumped back. She’d never heard him yell like that, and on some level, she hadn’t even thought him capable of it. “Gabriel, please don’t—”

“Don’t you get it?” he shouted. “Of course I don’t like being an outsider. But in order to fit in, I have to be stupid. I learned that when I was sixteen, and I never forgot it. Being stupid is the only way I can ever be normal.”

“But you’re not normal,” she said.

“Clearly,” he spat. “But, God, I want to be.” He loosened his fists, but he was still breathing heavily.

She saw the glistening of tears in his eyes, the sad, lost little boy lashing out. That little boy had never been accepted by his peers and had been teased mercilessly at school. The boy had grown to be a man who was defensively protecting the one thing he thought he had going for him. Yvonne walked up to him and ran her fingers through his thick red hair. He twitched uneasily but didn’t pull away.

“I love you, baby,” she whispered. “But if this is going to work, I need to say something.”

“Why wouldn’t it work?” He shuddered. “Yvonne, don’t say that. Don’t.”

Gabriel gawked at her like the lost, uncertain child he was. His hard shell had been cracked, and he looked as if the slightest breeze would send him toppling.

“If you want us to be together”—she gulped—“you’ve gotta embrace your mind. Stop running away from the greatest gift you have. I meant what I told you back on our first date. Do you remember what I said?”

“That you loved my brain?”

“Yes, your brain. That’s why I love you. Because you’re the guy who’s gonna save the future. Because you’re brilliant. I love you for who you are, and that’s why I can’t stand who you pretend to be, because the real person is so much better.”

Gabriel smiled weakly. “That’s what Old Gareth tells me, too.”

“Maybe you should finally introduce me to this priest guy, already. He sounds pretty smart.” Yvonne sniffled. “So stop killing that brain I love with all that alcohol. Okay? You’re so much better than that. You’re so much—”

Gabriel’s mouth met hers, passionately connecting to her soul. As her fingers became tangled in his thick red hair, his lips left moist imprints across her neck and shoulders. All of their frustrations suddenly dissolved. Through his kisses, he told her everything that he would never have been able to put into words. He showed her, by giving her his emotions, his touch, and the most private gift of all, the tears that broke free from his eyes, leaving silvery streaks down his cheeks. He wouldn’t swear off alcohol, not in words, but the kiss was his promise to try, to give it his best shot, for her. She felt that promise beating in his chest, and she recognized it as surely as if he’d signed a contract.

Gabriel raised his head and gazed into her eyes. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.” She wrapped her arms tighter around him.

“Let’s go back to my sailboat. Let’s see the ocean tonight.”

“Together? Are you sure? With me?”

Gabriel squeezed her hand. “Together.”

Chapter 19:

Stage