by Zara Rivas
"Phone," I said with an overly chipper voice. "Sorry."
Sounds like fun but I can't make it. I'll be home tomorrow night for Logan's dinner though.
I groaned, having forgotten about the family dinner. Sinclair, who had been shamelessly reading my text message over my shoulder, made a noise of inquiry. I elbowed him in the gut and turned around.
"Finn," I said by way of explanation while he gasped for air. "And don't be so nosy."
"Aye aye cap'n," he said, voice a bit wheezy.
"Something wrong?" I asked innocently. He didn't respond, instead looking around quickly. He tossed me a skirt and a shirt.
"Wear that," he grinned. "You'll look hot."
"Don't I always?" Of course. Leave it to a guy to always pick a mini skirt. I discarded the jeans, though, and decided it wouldn't be so bad to wear the skirt. "I'm going to go take a shower. Unless you have some recommendations on the shoes you want me to wear, that is."
He picked up on the sarcasm and smirked.
"You could always wear those sexy boots of yours."
"Great, I'd be the sluttiest one there tonight."
"I wouldn't mind."
"I'm sure you wouldn't." I scooped up my clothes and went to take a shower. "Don't destroy anything in the ten minutes I'll be gone, Sinclair."
oOoOo
By the time she got out of the shower, Christian was singing forlornly about how he didn't want Satine to sleep with the Duke, and Sinclair had a glazed-over look in his eyes as he watched from her couch. She grinned and tossed a rolled-up pair of socks at him, startling him out of his reverie.
"Okay so question," Xavier asked, sounding bored. "If he could survive as a penniless writer on his own, why couldn't they survive as penniless artists together? I mean it's pretty obvious she's ill, but they're not giving her any useful meds anyway so she might as well die happy right?"
"Yes, but then there wouldn't be a plot for the movie," Sloane pointed out dryly. He suddenly noticed she was still wrapped in a towel, and his countenance went from bored to mischievous in three seconds flat.
"Decided to invite me to your shower after all?" he asked.
"Don't get any ideas, I just left my hairbrush out here." She swiped it off her desk and walked back into the bathroom.
He resigned himself to twenty more minutes of song-filled drivel.
oOoOo
I could get used to this, I thought, running the hairbrush absentmindedly through my tangled strands. Having Sinclair around, bored watching movies, or propositioning me in my closet, showing up unexpectedly but welcome all the same…it was kind of nice.
Not that I would ever say that to his face.
I opted to wear flip flops that night, just because I didn't feel like dealing with lacing up those boots Sinclair seemed to love so much. He noticed my choice in footwear, I could tell, but didn't make any remarks about it.
He ended up driving my car over there, on account of my protesting that if we took his motorcycle I'd end up flashing the entire neighborhood because of the skirt, and I didn't particularly feel like driving.
Tyler tackled me the second we walked in Christian's door, and I smiled while he gave me a bear hug and rocked us around the foyer. Xavier gave him kind of an odd look and I attributed it to him reacting to what I'd told him about Tyler and me a few days before.
Turns out the party ended up being more of just a giant hanging-out. We all just ate pizza and fast food tacos and talked and laughed, and eventually migrated to Christian's massive entertainment room to pile up on couches and poufs and chairs to watch movies. Christian lived with his mum, who'd ended up completely loaded after the divorce settlement came through, so they had a pretty lavish, comfortable home.
Christian got up midway through one of the movies and Avery gave me a Look, so I followed him out.
"Hey," he said, surprised, when he noticed me behind him in the hallway. I motioned for us to go further down so nobody could overhear our conversation.
"What's up?" he asked.
"What's the deal with you and Avery?" I asked bluntly.
"Oh," was all he said. He walked into his bedroom and closed the door behind us. I sank down onto the window sill and watched him.
"We're getting tired of each other," he said simply. "Small things, stupid stuff is making us fight."
"Is there something behind it?" I asked.
"We've been together for so long…don't take this the wrong way, Sloane, but I think we need some space. I've been with Avery since forever, and she's awesome and I love her, but there's a point when it's too much, yeah? I'm so sick of fighting with her about nothing at all."
I watched him sadly.
"I get it," I said softly. "Avery's my best friend, Christian, and normally in this situation I'd say something like 'you break her heart, I break you', but…I've known you for just as long so…just don't drag it out, okay? If you're going to break her heart, don't string her along."
"I won't," he said, sounding miserable.
I got up to leave and walked to the door.
"Sloane?"
"Yeah?"
"Please don't tell her."
I wouldn't have, even if he wouldn't have asked me.
I went back to the entertainment room and sat back down at my previous position on the couch. Sinclair was stretched out on the floor right at my feet, and I half-laid down on the couch and my arm dangled over. My fingers lightly touched his and I smiled. The room was pitch-black except for the light of the television, where we were watching one of the Jason Bourne films, so nobody had a chance of seeing us, even with the minimal light the t.v. cast over us.
He traced his fingers over my wrist, down my palm, and to the tips of my own fingers lightly, and back up. I reached around and did the same with his hand, and the tingling feeling swept its way through my stomach again. We stayed like that for the rest of the movie.
It was probably two in the morning when we all dispersed and decided to head home. The movie night had done its job—no one was thinking about the mysterious notes anymore. Sinclair drove us back to my house in my car.
oOoOo
"Does Torrance always overhaul the dialogue to movies?" Xavier asked, interested. Sloane stared out the passenger-side window and smiled to herself.
"Yeah, she does. She thinks it's entertaining to misconstrue everything." She looked over at him. "What'd you think? Like hanging out with all of us nutty people?"
"It was fun," he conceded. Xavier turned the wheel, heading left onto a street with barely any traffic. "Christian's house is huge."
"Says the guy who lives in a mansion himself," Sloane remarked. She shifted, pulling at her seat belt so she could turn towards him a little.
"So do you," he reminded her.
"Never said I didn't."
They fell into an easy silence and watched the other cars on the road.
"What was the deal with you and Christian?" Xavier finally asked.
"He just wanted to talk about something," Sloane said, reluctance in her voice.
"Ah," Xavier said, taking the hint. "Well, fun party." He pressed the brake pedal, slowing down and finally stopping at a stop sign. Another car approached the four-way stop to their left, and Xavier pressed the gas to go into the intersection.
"Hey did you—" Sloane started, and then clutched at her seat belt and screamed, "look out!"
"Shit!" Xavier cursed, swerving out of the way and hitting the gas hard as the car to their left ran the stop sign and nearly drove into the driver's side door. The other car screeched and wavered to a stop somewhere behind them, and Xavier eased off on the gas once they were clear of it.
"Asshole," he growled. "People really need to learn how to drive before they get in a car."
Sloane didn't respond and he looked over at her after a moment. She was pale as a ghost and clutching the seat belt as though it were a life line, staring straight out the driver's side window. He reached out and touched her hand, trying to use his pe
ripheral vision to look at her as he drove. Her hand was cold as ice, and shaking.
He swore softly, murmuring that they were only a minute or two away from her house, and drove faster.
Xavier pulled into the circular driveway and parked, turning off the car and twisting around in his seat to look at her. She still had the same wide-eyed, vacant look, staring in the same direction as before, and hadn't let go of the seat belt.
"Lexington?" Xavier asked tentatively, reaching towards her. She didn't say anything, but a violent shudder wracked her body. He gripped her hands, loosening them from the seat belt, and they started shaking slightly too.
"Sloane," he said sharply. Her eyes snapped to his and cleared. "We're okay, the car didn't hit us."
"We're okay," she repeated, voice a dead monotone.
Xavier didn't know what to do, so he unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door handle. Her grip on his hands tightened and he loosened them gently.
"I'm going to come around to your side of the car, okay?" he said quietly, looking her straight in the eyes. She nodded slowly.
He did as he said he would, and got out quickly, pulling the keys from the ignition and pocketing them, and hurried around to her side of the car. He opened her door and reached out a hand, which she took. He helped her out of the car. She stood on her own for a second and then her knees buckled and he caught her, wrapping one of her arms around his shoulders and wrapping his own arm around her waist. He kicked her door shut and walked her to the front door.
"Hey, tell me something," he said, trying to get her to talk.
"Tell you what?" she asked, her voice a little less monotone and wavering.
"Like…what your parents do for a living," Xavier said, awkwardly trying to fish for her keys while still keeping the grip on her arm. He finally managed to unlock the door and led her inside. Whatever was going on with her was scaring the shit out of him, but he was determined to get her to snap out of it.
"My father is a businessman," she said, voice slipping into the steady rhythm of a chant. "My mother, a surgeon."
"That's pretty cool, what kind of surgeon?" he asked, leading her towards the stairs.
"Cardiothoracic," she said, voice shaking more. She was snapping out of it.
"That's pretty fucking sweet," Xavier said. "Your mom fixes hearts for a living. Millions of people would give an arm or a leg to be able to do that."
"Yeah, it's brilliant," Sloane agreed.
"If you don't like your dad so much, why don't you go live with her?" he asked, loosening his grip on her arm a little. She picked up the slack and pulled her arm completely away, and the death-white tinge of her face had disappeared under a slight flush.
"She doesn't have enough room for me."
Xavier didn't know what to say to that. He didn't see any sign of Dominic around, and all the lights in the house were off, so he just directed Sloane to her bedroom. She complied, not bothering to turn the light on when she passed through the doorway. Some light came in through her bedroom window from the moon and stars, so Xavier just shut the door behind them with a soft click.
She sat down listlessly on her bed, fumbling with the zipper on her skirt, and pushed it off. Sloane just sat there, staring at the carpet, hands convulsively gripping her comforter, and Xavier knelt in front of her.
"Lexington?"
She looked down at him, and her eyes started to fill up with tears.
"Please don't leave me here," she whispered, "oh God, don't leave me here alone."
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, and she shook her head.
He pulled back the comforter and she slid her legs under it, and he kicked off his shoes and jeans and crawled in behind her, wearing just a t-shirt and his boxer shorts. She curled into him when he settled down, and he ran his fingers through her hair until she stopped crying and fell asleep.
Xavier stayed awake, staring into the darkness of her room, and tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
Chapter Thirteen
Wednesday was obnoxiously sunny, and I woke up with eyes watering because I forgot to close the blinds. The fact that Sinclair was still passed out in my bed, sprawled out next to the wall, didn't happen to improve my mood any. I remembered the previous night perfectly well, and felt chagrined that I couldn't handle a little near-miss without more calm.
I hopped out of bed and pulled on some pajama pants and didn't bother to wake Sinclair up, considering he wouldn't have to be in class for at least another hour. I crept silently out of the room, shutting the door behind me and making my way to the kitchen. Dominic sat there, along with Finn, who I was completely surprised to see.
"What are you doing here?" I asked blearily, my voice somewhat of a croak.
"Got an email last night that my classes were canceled," Finn said, chugging down half a cup of coffee. "I decided to come home for the day so I wouldn't miss anything."
"Oh," I said. "What are you doing up so early?"
He raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Couldn't sleep. I could ask you the same thing."
"The sun was in my eyes."
Finn looked amused. "Close the curtains?"
"Even closing the curtains wouldn't distract me from the person in my room. I'd really rather just have breakfast."
"I saw his motorcycle in the driveway when I got up," Dominic intoned. I didn't say anything, instead opting to grab an apple from the vegetable crisper and pop a frozen waffle in the toaster.
"I can make you real waffles, you know," Finn mused, giving an uncertain look to the toaster. Finn never really cared for frozen foods.
"It's all good," I said, crunching into the apple. Dominic didn't mention my lack of acknowledgement to his statement. Instead, he filched a piece of the waffle when it popped up and smiled. Finn just poured himself more coffee and grumbled when I stole his cup.
"You should be used to me filching your coffee," I chastised, offering it back. He reached for it and I pulled it out of his grasp, grinning. He glowered.
"So," I said conversationally, "Sinclair and I almost got into an accident last night."
Dominic raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What kind of accident?"
"Some idiot ran a stop sign and almost hit his side of the car."
Dominic carefully sipped his own coffee, pulling a piece off of his waffle bit and eating it. Finn was less tactful, and point-blank stared at me.
"So that's why he's here?" he pointed to the ceiling. I rolled my eyes.
"Yes, Finn, that's why he's here," I sighed. "I freaked out."
"Freaked out about what?" Sinclair asked from the kitchen doorway, sounding exhausted. We all turned to him and shut up, staring. He looked at us sideways for a second, oddly, before giving up with an "o-kay" and reaching for the frozen waffle box himself. "Sorry if I'm intruding here."
"You aren't," I assured him, pushing the toaster his way with one finger. "Freaked out about the car accident, is all."
"Oh. That."
"Yeah."
I realized Finn and Dominic hadn't said anything thus far, but were still watching him like cats watch a grasshopper missing one leg. While Sinclair busied himself with the toaster, I had a silent argument with them. Finn narrowed his eyes and grinned evilly, jerking his head towards Sinclair, and I shook my head vehemently and mouthed that if he pulled any crap he was dead. Dominic watched with a smirk on his face and a demeanor that suggested he agreed with Finn, and I gave an exasperated sigh and flopped onto the kitchen stool.
"So, Xavier," Finn said nonchalantly, "how are you this morning?"
The doorbell rang. I decided to get the hell out of dodge and leaped up to answer it. Xavier gave me a reproachful look, and I grinned sheepishly but still left him to the lions.
"I'm okay," I heard him say tentatively as I sprang out the door. "You?"
I swung open our front door and Avery stood there. Not bothering with hellos or anything of the sort, I dragged her inside.
"Boys are stupid and I hate them,
" I announced, "and I am so glad I'm not one."
"I hear you on that," Avery shook her head. "Why is there a motorcycle in front of your house? It doesn't look like Finn's."
"It's Sinclairs," I grumbled, not really wanting to explain why he was there.
She picked up on my tone, however, and simply smiled. "Sweet! Breakfast time?"
"Yeah, come join the party. I think Nic and Finn are about to rip Sinclair to shreds and he won't even have a clue what's hit him."