by Zara Rivas
She left the room as quickly as she'd come, and I watched the door close and click softly behind her.
It was a moment before I realized I'd zoned out, lost in my thoughts, and I snapped myself out of it and flipped open my phone.
I had two messages from Daphne, one making a remark about the size of the school, another saying,
Nic just texted me, are you ok?
I ignored this for the moment and flipped through to find Nic's messages.
Tor just showed up, what's going on?
followed rapidly by,
are you okay?
My phone also registered a voicemail, which must have been the last long buzz that Adrian heard from my pocket.
Cringing, I dialed the code to listen to it and knew that I was either going to catch hell for this particular outing, or that Nic would be worried out of his mind. Or worse: both.
"Sloane, if you don't call me back in the next thirty seconds I'm going to have a hernia. I'm on my way to the school and I hope there's a fucking good explanation for this, because otherwise there's going to be a fifty-foot crater around the spot where you used to exist. And Daphne had better be with you."
The message cut off and a slow grin spread across my face. Nic, cursing? He must really have his panties in a twist. I dialed his number quickly and launched myself out of the room in search of Daphne, phone to my ear.
Chapter Twenty
I dove into the pool on Friday afternoon, stretching out my arms and starting to do lengths around it. My family wasn't on the roof with me; I wouldn't have wanted them there, really. I needed the monotonous repetition of submerging myself and giving in to mindless exercise to clear my head. Because for once, painting hadn't helped. I'd been in the attic all morning, staring at a blank canvas. I'd realized at some point that Logan was in the doorway, watching me, and that shattered the rest of my concentration completely.
Logan took Daphne and the others into the city about thirty minutes before with the promise of dinner and a movie, giving me a much-needed respite from all of their solicitous stares. They meant well, I knew, but it was stressful having my family worry about me. And there'd been a huge fight with Dominic over whether or not to report Adrian to the police. In the end he'd given in, but only because I'd convinced him that she wouldn't do it. He didn't seem to believe me at first, but I told him that I'd let her know that I was telling my family what happened. Adrian wouldn't make a move if she knew that my family would go after her.
The warm water closed over my head and I marveled at my clouded vision, stretching my hands out before me in the water. It all seemed surreal. I breathed a laugh into the water, bubbles rising to the surface, and didn't close my mouth enough. The taste of chlorine filled it and I kicked to the surface.
Catharsis, I thought.
My head finally broke the surface of the water and I started, splashing backwards, as I realized I wasn't alone. Xavier sat on a pool chair not far away, watching me intently. Clouds were starting to trace their way across the sky, and the darkening horizon suggested rain soon.
"You know," I called, my voice sounding muffled to my waterlogged ears, "someone's going to accuse you of stalking me someday."
"Who could blame me?" he said, grinning. "You're just too gorgeous to stay away from."
"I'm sure," I said drily, climbing out of the pool. He reached out with a towel and wrapped it around me. I used it to dry off my arms and legs, and twined it around my hair when I was finished. Xavier just stood there and watched me for a while.
"You weren't in school today," he said finally.
"Yeah, I took a mental health day," I said vaguely, fussing with the towel. It didn't feel quite right around my hair, so I gave up and pulled it off.
He just stood there, hands in his jean pockets, and continued to watch me. The late afternoon sun was at his back, creating a reddish brown halo around his hair. I threw him a brief smile.
"Or yesterday," he added.
"Two mental health days," I threw in, lifting up a lid and tossing the towel down a special laundry chute we'd had put in. I let the lid fall with a clack and turned towards Xavier.
"You didn't respond to my messages."
"I know," I sighed, "I'm sorry. I've just had a lot going on and…"
I'd known this conversation was coming. I'd just wanted to avoid it for as long as possible, because I knew Sinclair was going to freak out, and freak out big time.
Nobody at school knew about what had happened on Wednesday night; Torrance made sure of that. She'd told me she would send me a message if anyone so much as breathed a word about me and Adrian, but it was business as usual at Carroway—people still gossiped about my locker and my car, of course, but it was all speculation, and nobody mentioned my friends. Adrian wasn't in school, either. Torrance did some snooping around the secretary's office and found out she'd had her parents tell them she was sick.
I'd made no move to get up and go to school on Thursday morning, and nobody in my family even asked me about it. I'd walked into the kitchen to find Nic making French toast for Daphne and me, Logan sitting at the island with a newspaper, and Finn, who'd shown up in the middle of the night out of worry, raiding the fridge as usual. Logan and Daphne were leaving the next morning. I felt awful for being so broody with so little time left with my sister, but Logan had promised to bring her by on the weekends more often. It lessened the guilt somewhat.
"Sloane, what are you doing?" Xavier asked, bringing me back to the present.
I tilted my head and pretended to think about it, a smirk tugging at one corner of my mouth.
"Playing a game, I think," I quipped. I turned and started walking down the steps that led to the ground floor.
"How can I play if I don't know the rules?" he called after me. He didn't sound amused. He sounded confused, and worried.
"I'll fill you in," I said over my shoulder. "Just not right now."
"When?" he asked flatly, his voice coming from directly behind me. I stopped on the stairs and looked up at him. He had his hands on the rails on either side of me, and the expression on his face was serious. I didn't know what tipped him off to my mood, but he'd certainly picked up on it.
"After I take a shower," I said softly, and turned around again.
oOoOo
Countless scenarios raced across my mind as I stood under the hot spray of the shower. I could tell him the whole truth, no holds barred, and see what happened. Or I could attribute my strange mood to PMS (always a good fallback for a girl), or give him bits and pieces.
If I told him the whole truth, I mused, I would have to say it very carefully. Otherwise I risked everyone knowing it was Adrian, and despite all the bullshit she'd pulled on me and the stress she'd caused, I didn't think she would do it again. And grief-stricken actions, however nonsensical they were, didn't mark her as worthy of having the rest of her high school career ruined by taunts and jeers and the silence of our classmates. Which would inevitably happen, I realized, because of my popularity. It wasn't a vanity issue for me, but it would happen.
He would have to understand that he couldn't discuss it with anyone, not even Torrance or Avery. I'd promised Adrian I would tell my brothers; I'd never said anything about anyone else. But Xavier spent too much time around me and—no, that wasn't it. I shook my head, water droplets falling into my eyes from my hair. I just wanted him to know. I didn't have to tell him.
I stepped out of the shower, steam billowing out behind me, and tried to look in the mirror. I snorted when I realized the entire thing was thickly fogged over from the heat of the shower, and gave up. Absently pulling a comb through my hair, I realized I'd forgotten to bring clothes into the bathroom with me. Since I didn't fancy putting my soggy, chlorine-soaked swimsuit back on, I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out into my bedroom, wincing at the chill of the air conditioner.
Rain had started gently pattering on the windows, and Xavier was stretched out on my bed, leaning his back against the headb
oard. He seemed restless, one hand passing his phone to the other, and back. His eyes never left mine.
"Wow," I said, "you must be off your game if I can walk around in just a towel without a remark."
"Oh believe me, I'm not off my game." He didn't move from his place on the bed as I went into my closet. "You haven't told me what the game is yet."
Ah. He wasn't going to beat around the bush this time.
I figured I would stop stalling and just get the conversation over with. I still didn't know what I was going to say but I knew it would take shape as soon as I opened my mouth. I dropped the towel in my closet, knowing he wouldn't come in, and stepped into a pair of pajama pants and a long-sleeved black Henley shirt. My wet hair brushed the shirt and soaked through the material, making it damp, but I didn't care. It would dry soon enough.
Thunder rumbled outside and the lights flickered but stayed on. I flipped off the closet light and stepped out, avoiding Xavier's gaze. I looked around the room for a moment, deciding on where to sit, and finally settled on the window seat. It was dark outside, the sun having set just a few minutes before, and lightning flashed. I finally looked into Sinclair's face.
He was startled that I'd sat across the room from him, but he made no move to get up from the bed. He simply swung his legs over the side so his feet touched the floor, and gripped my mattress with both hands, watching me. I drew my feet up on the window seat beside me and took a deep breath, knowing exactly what I would tell him.
"You need to put your phone down," I said calmly, gesturing to my nightstand. "Because if you make a move to call someone I swear I'll tackle you, and it won't be playful. I will give you carpet burn."
I grinned to show him I was kidding, but I was sure something in my face said otherwise.
He set his phone down without a word.
"I know who slashed my tires," I said, and he started. "And painted my locker. And left those notes. I know all of it."
And he listened. For all of it. He never said a word, the entire time, and towards the end it started to worry me, and it broke my concentration.
"Xavier?" I asked, a little nervous. He looked at me. "Say something."
"Why didn't you tell me this yesterday? Or call me Wednesday night?" he asked. His voice sounded peculiar, upset. I sensed dangerous territory and decided to be a hundred percent honest. I didn't want this to turn into an argument.
"I didn't know what to say." I held up a hand when he started to speak, and he quieted. "We always laugh and joke, Xavier, and that's kind of our…thing. I don't know how else to put it. But this is serious. I need you to know that you can't tell anyone about this. Avery, Torrance, Christian. They're all close friends with Adrian, and I've known them all for a long time. They will choose sides. And…I don't know. For some reason I feel like Adrian needs protecting."
"You're the one who needs protecting," he muttered, "from her."
"I don't think so," I said, shaking my head. "As crazy as it sounds, I think she'll stop. I know now. She seemed relieved."
oOoOo
Xavier could see how uncomfortable she was, and how earnest. And the fact that she didn't want him close while she said what she needed to didn't bother him; it just showed him exactly how much she needed to get this out without distraction.
"Relieved?" he asked, and she nodded.
"Yeah, like she'd been bottling it up for a long time," Sloane said, staring blankly at the carpet. She raised her shoulder in an absent half-shrug. "I can relate. I've had that feeling before. We all have."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
"Of course I'm right," Sloane said quickly, smirking. Her eyes rose again to meet Sinclair's and he saw the mock superiority on her face. Her hair was drying, and the blue was starting to emerge from the darkness of her wet hair. It was a striking transformation and he watched it, interested.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, voice peculiar.
He started, and pointed to her hair.
"The blue's coming out."
She seemed perplexed, picking up the ends of her hair and studying them. As though she'd forgotten she'd dyed it.
It amused Sinclair, and he felt a grin tugging at his face before he could stop it.
"What's the matter? Starting to feel like you don't like being a blueberry-head?"
The insult sounded so juvenile that Sloane snorted.
"It's better than being called a Smurf. I heard that one from Finn for weeks the last time I used this color."
"Nah, Smurfette's hair was blonde," Sinclair said absently.
"Leave it to a guy to know that," Sloane said, rolling her eyes. "I can't think of a guy in the universe who didn't want to bang that chick."
"Whoa, hey," Sinclair said, holding up his hands. "Wait. You're saying that if you were a guy, you wouldn't want to bang her?"
"I never said that," she said defensively. "I'm just implying that all guys are the same."
"And that's not offensive," Sinclair said drily.
"Of course not." Sloane stuck her nose in the air. "It's true. And you should never argue with a lady."
Sinclair stood up abruptly at this and walked over to the window seat, pulling at Sloane's hands.
"I don't see any ladies around, do you?"
oOoOo
I looked him up and down, very deliberately.
"Yeah," I said, smirking. "I do see a lady."
"Oh for God's sake," Xavier said, exasperated, and then changed his mannerisms completely. "You're right, I am a lady, and I even forgot to match my shoes and my purse today. Oh, dear me! Whatever will I do!"
I stared at him, horrified, as he swooned. It was probably a really unattractive, mouth-gaping stare, but Xavier found it hilarious nonetheless. While he was rolling around on the window seat, doing something that could only be described as guffawing, I rolled my eyes and relocated myself, away from the fake-lady.
He followed me to the middle of the room, catching my wrist with his hand. I turned around and suddenly he was serious, watching me with his beautiful eyes, and something pulled inside my chest.
"Hey," he said softly, "c'mere."
His fingers traced my jaw gently, and he bent down and kissed me.
It was sweet, and soft, and we stood there like that for a long time.
"I'm sorry," I said finally, nearly whispering. Thunder continued to rumble outside. "I shouldn't have ignored your calls."
"No, you shouldn't have," he said seriously, before a small smile broke across his face. "But I'm sure I'll find some way to forgive you."
I shook my head and laughed. "Yes, it'll be such a chore."
"I'm sure I don't know how I put up with you," he carried on.
"I think it has something to do with this," I said, and kissed him again. Lightning crashed outside somewhere and the lights went out entirely, submerging us in darkness. He breathed a laugh, a low sound in his throat that I could feel through his shirt. It sent tingles down my spine.
"Lights out, I guess," he said.
"Yeah. I wonder when they'll come back on. Last time it was quite a while."
"I'm sure we'll manage." I could see his silhouette then in the darkness, my eyes adjusting to the lights being out. The window being opened helped; every time a flash of lightning lit the sky, it also illuminated my bedroom.
"Where's your family?" he asked, tracing his fingers up and down my arms.
"They're in the city," I said, the quietness of my voice matching his. "For dinner, and a movie."
"They probably won't be back until late," I added, not sure why I was saying it.
Sinclair had a better idea of why than I did.
"Come here," he said again, and sat down on my bed. I sat down and leaned into him while he played with my hair.
"Do you remember," I said suddenly, "asking me once, when the power was out, what the perfect way to pass the time was?" I glanced up at him. "When the power's out, and there's a…what was it, a raging storm outside?"
/> "I remember," he chuckled.
I smiled into his shirt.
"I also remember there being something about a gorgeous girl in there," he added. His fingers worked their way down my side to trace my leg.
"And then I hit you with a pillow."
"Yeah," he said, rubbing his jaw. I felt the motion more than saw it. "That one actually kind of hurt. Did you have bricks in your pillows?"
"Gold bricks," I confirmed. "Best secret place to hide your wealth, you know."