Page 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

Xavier

" A lright, final vote," Cam says, sitting back in his chair, arms crossed. "We’re all good with Salt Vein ?"

Liam and Tyler nod in agreement. I grin. "Hell yeah."

The name fits. We were all born here, raised by the tides. The ocean is in our blood, in our lungs, in the pulse of our music. It was Liam’s idea, and from the second he said it, we all just knew . It was right. Just like everything else with this band has been since day one. No forced chemistry. No clashing egos. Just music.

Cam drums out a quick rhythm on the back of his chair, grinning. "So does this mean we’re officially a band?"

"Think that ship sailed when we wrote our first song together, dude." Tyler leans back, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. "But yeah, a name makes it official. Now we can book some gigs. Get ourselves out there."

The idea sends a jolt of excitement through me. This thing feels real now. It’s not just me hiding away in the Observatory, filling notebooks with lyrics no one will ever hear. We’re building something together.

And I can’t wait to tell Maggie.

I’ve got something solid planned for our date Saturday evening. Something farther afield since she has the night off. A plan that’s specially tailored for her—even better than the first date, I'm hoping.

I’ve never put this much thought into any sort of outing before. Never wanted to. But I want this to be perfect. And not because of the whole third-date-kiss thing. I honest-to-God want her to have fun. I want to see that light in her eyes when she’s all in on something. I want her to get that this isn’t just another night to me.

Okay, yeah—I totally want to impress Maggie LeClair.

When I get back from jamming with the guys, Finn is sprawled across the living room floor, face scrunched in deep concentration as he studies the Twister mat. Maggie sits cross-legged beside him, looking equally serious.

"You sure you’re ready for this, Maggs?" Finn asks, shooting her a doubtful look. "You remember what happened last time, right?"

Maggie gasps. "Okay, first of all, I only fell over twice, and that was entirely the sock situation’s fault. Second of all—" she lifts her chin "—I have trained extensively for this moment."

Finn narrows his eyes. "You practiced ?"

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

The way Finn studies her, trying to determine if she’s bluffing, makes me grin. I see it so much more clearly now: Maggie isn’t just good with Finn—she gets him. Plays into his little mind games, lets him win in ways that aren’t about letting him win at all.

I clear my throat, stepping farther inside. "Hope you two are leaving room for a third challenger."

Finn whips around, his whole face lighting up. "Xavey!"

Maggie tilts her head. "You think you’ve got what it takes, Rockwell?"

"I think," I say, setting two steaming cups on the coffee table, "that I have just secured your loyalty."

Maggie blinks at the cup, then at me. "You—wait. You got me hot chocolate?"

The surprise in her voice catches me off guard. Like she genuinely wasn’t expecting it .

I scratch the back of my neck, suddenly feeling way too self-aware. "Yeah. And one for Finn. Figured you two could use some fuel before your inevitable defeat."

Maggie accepts the cup like it's something rare and precious. "You just figured ?"

I roll my eyes. "Jesus, LeClair. It’s a drink, not a marriage proposal."

Finn snickers into his cup. Maggie smirks over the rim of hers, eyes glinting. "Well, now that I know your grand romantic gestures involve seasonal beverages, I’ll be sure to keep my expectations in check."

I groan. "Are we playing this game or not?"

Finn springs up. "YES. But first rule—no cheating." His eyes flick to me. " Okay, Xave?"

Maggie gasps. "Wait, he cheats?"

Finn nods solemnly. "A lot."

"Wow." Maggie shakes her head, taking a slow sip of her hot chocolate. "You think you know a guy…"

"Okay, you both suck," I mutter, already pulling off my hoodie.

We play for almost an hour, and by the end of it, Maggie is a wreck—half upside-down, tangled in Finn’s little limbs, barely managing to keep her balance. Finn, though, is holding on like some kind of Cirque du Soleil acrobat.

"Right foot red," I announce lazily.

" I CAN’T ," Maggie shrieks, cracking up. "I’M TRAPPED. THIS IS AN IMPOSSIBLE REQUEST."

Finn cackles. "Quitter."

"I am not a—" She shifts, and in one catastrophic motion, collapses into Finn, sending them both toppling over in a mess of limbs and laughter.

I lean back on my elbows, watching as they untangle themselves, both grinning like idiots.

And then I realize something.

I really like this .

Not just the easy chaos of it, or the way Finn’s laughing so hard he has to clutch his stomach. Not just the fact that Maggie looks so at home here, like she belongs.

I like her . Really like her.

The thought is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

It's like I told her on our date the other day. Sure, I’ve had fun before. Hooked up, had my fair share of wild nights. But this? This feels different.

This makes me feel alive .

Before Maggie came along, Finn and I were getting by, but more like we were flailing kind of aimlessly in the water, with no idea which direction the shore was.

Now, Maggie's our lighthouse. We can see the shore.

That happy feeling sticks with me the next day. Through morning practice, through school, through band rehearsal.

Then, just as I’m heading to my first afternoon class, my phone buzzes.

Denise.

My stomach drops before I even answer. Denise never calls during school hours unless something's up.

"What’s up?"

Her voice is measured, careful. "Xavier. I just wanted to let you know your mother’s coming home tomorrow morning."

The words land like a gut punch. "Tomorrow?"

"She has a shoot Monday for Vogue. It's a last-minute thing."

Of course.

Not coming home for us. Coming home for a fucking magazine spread.

"Does Finn know?"

"Not yet. I thought you might want to tell him. "

I drag a hand through my hair. "Yeah. Thanks."

The call ends, and I slump in the back row of my English Lit class.

All the good stuff—Salt Vein, the music, Maggie —suddenly feels fragile. Like set pieces in a play that can be knocked over the second reality crashes through.

Because that’s what Jacee does. She sweeps in, makes a mess, then vanishes again, leaving me to deal with the wreckage.

Also, Jacee being home means seeing more of my father. Which is never a good thing. And together, they're lethal. All you can do is brace for impact and hope for the best.

And I guess that's the thing about lighthouses: they can only guide you through the storm—they can't stop it from coming. And my mother? She's category five, heading straight for shore.