Chapter 13
A few weeks later, Lena insisted we all go out together.
She claimed she needed to personally verify whether Xander had truly regained his sanity.
The four of us met for dinner.
Me, Xander, Lena, and Lena’s latest situationship, who looked terrified of Xander the entire time.
Honestly, fair.
Halfway through the meal, Lena leaned toward me and whispered, “I still can’t believe he thought he was a substitute. That is the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard.”
Xander, who absolutely heard her, lifted his eyes and said coolly, “I was not being dramatic.”
Lena nearly choked laughing.
I covered my face.
Then Xander added, “From my perspective, it was reasonable.”
“It was not reasonable,” I said.
“You made me dye my hair black.”
“I was wrong.”
“You made me wear glasses.”
“I already said I was wrong.”
“You called that look your favorite.”
I slapped a hand over his mouth before he could keep going.
Lena was crying from laughter now.
Later that night, when we were finally alone, I asked him, “Are you really still upset about the black hair and glasses thing?”
Xander looked down at me and said with complete seriousness, “No.”
I relaxed.
Then he added, “I’m upset that I wasn’t your favorite first.”
My heart gave a stupid little leap.
I tried to act calm. “You are now.”
“Only now?”
I glared at him. “You know what I mean.”
He smiled, satisfied at last.
That same weekend, I went home to see my parents.
Mom watched me for all of ten minutes before asking, “You and Xander are back together, aren’t you?”
I nearly dropped my fork. “How did you know?”
She looked at me like I was an idiot.
“You’re smiling at your phone every two seconds.”
My dad cleared his throat and muttered, “That boy better know how lucky he is.”
I almost laughed.
If only they knew.
Because at that exact second, Xander was sending me messages like:
Did you eat?
What are you eating?
Take a picture.
Why are you sitting next to your dad and not replying?
I sent him a photo of my dinner.
He zoomed in and replied, Your mom made shrimp. You don’t like peeling them. Who’s doing it for you?
I stared at that message for a long time, then burst out laughing.
Mom looked at me suspiciously. “What now?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. He’s just… clingy.”
Dad looked pleased by that for some reason.
When I got back to school the next day, Xander was waiting for me downstairs.
The second he saw me, he took my bag.
Then he frowned slightly and asked, “Why didn’t you answer my calls last night?”
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
And suddenly, all at once, I understood.
This.
This was what he had felt like every time I disappeared on him.
So I walked over, reached up, and hooked my arms around his neck.
“Were you worried?”
He didn’t answer.
Which was answer enough.
I smiled against his throat and said softly, “Okay. Next time I’ll tell you first.”
He held me tighter.
Then, after a moment, I felt his lips brush my hair.
“Good.”