Page 118 of Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High)

“No, of course not.” I exhale a gusty breath. “I’m just saying I had nothing to do with it. She’s seventeen, Mom. I can’t control what she does all the time.”

“You have thirty minutes to find your sister and get her home. If you’re even one minute late, I’m calling the police on this drugfest for underage drinking, am I making myself clear?” She spits out empty threats. Well, I hope they’re empty.

“Yes, ma’am.” I grumble and end the call before squeezing my phone in my jeans pocket.

Then comes the moment I dreaded the most. The moment where Xav and I finish a conversation I’m not prepared for.

I swivel to face him, my cheeks tinted with shame. My backstabbing crush just witnessed my mom chewing my head off over the phone. No big deal. If I thought he seemed shocked before, I was way off. This was nothing compared to the way he’s looking at me now. His jaw goes slack, his mouth hanging open as he stares down my face, eerily quiet.

He looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Sorry you had to hear that.” I shuffle my feet, playing with my fingers nervously. A million emotions blend together in his eyes, but his lips remain sealed. He looks like he’s processing something. Assembling pieces of a puzzle he was never able to complete.

Until now.

“Anyway.” I clear my throat. “I-I should get going.”

He still doesn’t make a sound, dissecting my every move as I speed-walk to the door, but right as I’m about to make a run for it, he does the last thing I expected.

He laughs.

It’s a chest laugh.

Deep, and raw, and real. But don’t think I miss the bitterness bubbling beneath the surface.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” he mutters to himself, so quietly I almost don’t hear him. I’m tempted to pretend I didn’t catch that and haul ass out of there, but something tells me he wouldn’t let me go that easy.

What he says next proves me right.

“It’s you.”

He said it to my back, but it paralyzes me from head to toes.

“Of course it’s you.” He scoffs. “Jesus, Xav, be slower, will you?”

It takes me a few seconds to regain control of my body and spin myself around. Play dumb, a voice in the back of my head advises. Only way you’ll get out of here with your heart in one piece.

“Huh, okay?” I mock, knowing damn well the only ridiculous person here is me. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Don’t fucking do that, Vee,” he growls, his patience wearing thin. He talks like it’s a done deal. Like there’s no point in denying it anymore. But I’m not going down without a fight.

I’m not ready to be vulnerable.

I’m not ready for this to be real.

Not when he chose Lacey over me.

Not when he’s still choosing Brie over me.

“Stay here. I’ll go get Finn so he can put your ass in a cab or something.” I turn to leave, but Xavier rises off the concrete before I can even think of storming out. He makes his way over to me in two big strides, and my heart’s fight or flight kicks in, begging me to run.

Before he ruins me.

He stops inches away from me, his eyes level with mine, and his breath fanning my lips. My throat bobs at the proximity, the inside coated in fear, but Xav? He’s a cold, unaffected riddle I’d sell my soul to solve.

I can tell he’s doing this on purpose. Crowding my space. Getting close to me in the hope of seeing me break.

“Admit it.” It comes out as a bone-chilling order.