My brother cleared his throat, his voice steady but kind. "Xavier, you should head back to class. You'll get in trouble if you stay here all day."
For a moment, Xavier looked like he wanted to argue, but then his eyes flickered to me before he gave a short nod. "Fine. I'll be back later."
I watched as he walked out, his footsteps fading down the hall. My parents' gazes followed him until the door shut, then turned back to me. I avoided their eyes, pretending to fuss with the blanket. Their silence felt heavier than their words.
My brother leaned forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I've gotta get back to work, but… take care of yourself, okay? Call me if anything happens."
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. He squeezed my shoulder once before leaving, his warmth trailing with him.
Not long after, my parents muttered something about a meeting, about business, and left too. The room felt emptier than before, but not quieter. My thoughts buzzed too loud to rest.
I must have drifted for a while, because the bell rang, sharp and familiar—the one for homeroom. I asked the nurse if I could go, and though she gave me a worried look, she sighed and let me.
The hallway was busy, but when I stepped into my homeroom, the air shifted. Heads turned. Whispers stirred. For once, it was unusually quiet. I felt every set of eyes on me as I made my way to my desk.
Xavier's seat was empty. My chest sank for reasons I didn't want to think about. I shook it off, lowering myself into my chair and laying my head on my arm.
Minutes later, the homeroom teacher walked in, setting their books on the desk. Attendance began. One by one, names were called, but I barely listened—until I realized something.
Xavier's name wasn't called.
I opened my eyes, staring at the wood of my desk but not lifting my head.
The teacher paused after finishing the list. "One more note. Xavier has been moved to a different homeroom starting today."
The words hit harder than I expected. My chest tightened, and the little pieces of myself I'd just started to gather back together cracked again.
Maybe… maybe he didn't really care. Maybe he was just pretending. Maybe he was actually friends with Jenny. Maybe he told her boyfriend to come after me because he didn't like me.
The thoughts rushed in too fast, too sharp, stabbing at me in ways I didn't know how to stop.
And underneath it all, I felt something even stranger. Awkward feelings I had never let myself name before. It felt like… liking someone. But that couldn't be true. That wasn't believable.
Still, the thought wouldn't leave. It stayed there, quiet but certain, and it scared me.
Maybe he got annoyed by me.
The bell finally rang, and I didn't wait for anyone. I slipped my bag over my shoulder and walked out, ignoring the hushed whispers that followed me down the hall. The day had drained everything from me, and I only wanted the quiet of my room.
The late afternoon sun was low and sharp, pressing heat against my back as I made my way down the sidewalk. My feet dragged a little with each step, my body still heavy with exhaustion.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
I froze, the sound too close, too steady. Slowly, I turned my head.
Xavier.
He was walking a few paces back, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression unreadable. The orange light caught in his hair, and for a second, I wondered if I was imagining him.
I stopped walking. Just stood there, staring.
He slowed too, brow furrowing like he couldn't understand why I was looking at him like that.
My heart pounded, panic clawing at me. What if it was true? What if he was actually with Jenny somehow, laughing behind my back, calling her boyfriend to finish what he started? The image felt too real, too possible.
My fingers tightened on the strap of my bag. My chest hurt.
"...Why are you looking at me like that?" Xavier finally asked, his voice lower, softer than I expected. Not mocking. Not sharp. Just confused.
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. The same silence as last night pressed down on me. I wanted to speak, to explain, but my throat locked shut.
He stepped closer, cautious. "Jay. What's wrong?"
The sound of my name broke something. My breathing hitched, too quick, and I dropped my gaze to the pavement.
"Did something happen?" Xavier's tone shifted, firm now, but not unkind.
I shook my head quickly, though the sting in my eyes betrayed me.
Xavier exhaled like he didn't believe me for a second. "You really think I'm gonna buy that? You can't lie to me anymore. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he studied me. "You look like you're about to run."
Because I was. My legs felt ready to bolt, even though my body refused to move.
The silence stretched between us, thick and unbearable, until he sighed and stepped forward again, closing the space. He didn't touch me, not yet, but his presence was heavy enough to make me flinch.
"Jay," he said again, softer this time. "Why do you seem scared of me?"
My chest tightened, words tangling, and finally—barely audible—I whispered, "...Because maybe you hate me too."
Xavier froze. His eyes widened just slightly, like the words had struck him in a place he didn't expect. Then his expression hardened, but not in anger—more like something between disbelief and hurt.
"What?" His voice was sharp, incredulous. "Who told you that?"
I didn't answer. My throat closed again.
"Was it Jenny?" Xavier asked immediately, his tone edged now, protective in a way I didn't understand. "Or that idiot boyfriend of hers?"
The sound of his voice saying it, knowing about it—my head snapped up. My eyes met his for the first time, wide with surprise.
He sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his hair. "Unbelievable." He muttered something under his breath, shaking his head, then looked back at me. "Jay, listen to me. I don't hate you. Not even close."
My lips parted, but no sound came out.
"I'm not friends with her. And I sure as hell wouldn't—" he stopped, jaw tight. His voice lowered, steadier. "I wouldn't ever do that to you."
The ache in my chest twisted, confused and desperate. The certainty in his voice should have calmed me, but it only made my heart pound harder.
I stared at him, searching his expression for any sign of a lie. There wasn't one. Just frustration, worry, and something else I couldn't name.
Finally, my shoulders sagged. The tension in my chest loosened, if only a little.
Xavier tilted his head, studying me like he was trying to piece me together. Then he stepped aside, motioning toward the road. "Come on. I'll walk you home."
I hesitated, torn between fear and the strange comfort he carried with him.
But when he started walking, steady and unhurried, I found myself following.
The rest of the walk was quiet, the sound of our steps filling in the spaces where words couldn't. Every now and then, Xavier glanced at me, but he didn't press. He just stayed close, like he was making sure I wouldn't disappear if I stumbled.
Halfway down the block, he finally broke the silence. Tone casual but steady. "Think your brother would mind if I stuck around for dinner?"
I blinked, caught off guard. "Dinner?"
"Yeah." He shrugged one shoulder, the corner of his mouth quirking. "I've been walking with you this whole way. Might as well crash your place and eat your food, right?"
The attempt at humor loosened something in my chest. My voice was soft, unsure. "I guess… you can ask him."
When we got home, my brother was already on the couch, a book in his hands. His eyes flicked up when he saw me with Xavier trailing behind.
"Hey," Xavier said with a little wave. "Mind if I stay for dinner?"
My brother studied him for a moment before nodding. "Sure. Why not?"
Relief flickered across Xavier's face, though he tried to mask it with his usual grin.
I headed upstairs after taking the fever medicine and Tylenol, my body too heavy to argue with the ache in my head. "I'm gonna rest," I mumbled before slipping away.
As I disappeared into my room, Xavier's eyes lingered on me, his smile softening into something quieter, almost tender. His chest tightened with a thought he didn't dare say out loud. I just want to kiss him. He's too cute.
A rustle came from the couch. Xavier blinked, snapping back to the present. My brother had closed his book and was staring at him with one brow raised, a teasing smirk spreading across his face.
"You're looking a little too long at my little brother," he said, his tone light but edged with amusement. "Don't tell me you're obsessed with him already."
Xavier's ears turned red instantly. He grabbed the back of his neck, rubbing it with a nervous laugh. "What? No, it's not— I mean, I was just—"
He broke off, grinning awkwardly. "You're reading too much into it."
My brother leaned back on the couch, still smirking, clearly unconvinced. "Uh-huh. Sure."
The silence stretched, Xavier's nerves buzzing, until my brother finally chuckled and opened his book again. "Relax. I'm not gonna bite."
"Right," Xavier muttered, sinking into the armchair across from him, though the warmth in his chest lingered.
Dinner was simple—takeout my brother ordered in, the smell of fried noodles and vegetables filling the house. I dragged myself downstairs, pale but hungry, sliding into the chair across from Xavier. His eyes darted up the second I sat, watching me closely like I might collapse any second.
I kept my head down, poking at my food, but I could feel it—his attention. Not heavy, not judging. Just… there. Constant.
"Eat," my brother said, nodding toward my plate.
"I am," I muttered, though my appetite was thin.
Xavier leaned back, chopsticks tapping against his bowl. "You're terrible at lying, you know."
My brother smirked faintly, catching the edge in his tone, but didn't comment.
I sighed and took a bite, cheeks warming under Xavier's quiet stare. The food tasted better than I wanted to admit, the warmth settling in my stomach.
For a few minutes, no one spoke. The clink of chopsticks and the hum of the fridge filled the silence. It was… comfortable, in a way I wasn't used to.
When I finally risked a glance up, Xavier's eyes caught mine. He didn't look away.
Dinner ended quietly. I pushed my plate away, the warmth from the food only half-fighting the heaviness in my body. My brother shooed me upstairs with a wave of his hand. "Go lie down. I'll handle things down here."
I didn't argue. My legs carried me slowly up the stairs, each step dragging. By the time I reached my room, I just wanted to melt into the mattress. The blanket was cool against my skin as I lay there, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn't come.
Downstairs, the clink of dishes shifted. "Hey," Xavier's voice broke the quiet. "Want me to wash these?"
My brother tilted his head, a little amused. "You don't have to."
"I don't mind."
There was a beat, then my brother leaned back, eyeing him. "Nah. Go check on Jay instead. He's probably just lying there overthinking."
Xavier blinked, then nodded. "Alright."
He padded up the stairs, guessing at which room might be mine. The first door he opened was right—dim light spilling over the floor, me curled on the bed but not asleep.
"Hey," he said softly, closing the door behind him. He sat beside me on the bed.
"Why… why do you care about me? No one ever does," I whispered.
He didn't hesitate. His hand lifted to my cheek. "I care because you're cute," he murmured, "and really sweet. Easy to talk to too."
Our eyes met, and he leaned in. My gaze dropped to his lips, and then they pressed against mine—soft, slow, and deliberate. He lingered, letting me feel the warmth, the gentleness, before pulling back slowly, forehead almost touching mine. His bad-boy eyes locked on mine.
"I hope you know everyone cares about you, Jay," he whispered. "They just don't show it."
I lingered my fingers on my lips, cheeks burning, heart racing, and for the first time in a long time, I genuinely smiled.
And then I let it fade. Xavier glanced down at my smile before it faded, "God you're too cute to handle."