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The week passes by uneventfully until Thursday, with me going through classes in the most robotic way and waiting for when I'll finally graduate and get out of this student life. I know parents always tell us that we'll miss this time when we're older, but right now, I just wish it would hurry up and get over with.

"So, how are studies going?" dad asks me during dinner.

I look up from my meal, chewing quickly so I can answer him.

"Good." I swallow. "My grades are getting better."

"They were never bad in the first place," dad points out.

"I know. But I've gone up to A+ now." I smile at dad who returns it proudly.

"So, I take it the study sessions with Xavier are going well then."

"Mhm." I stuff my mouth with food so I can pretend I'm too caught up to answer.

"What about his grades?" dad asks, probably persistent to not drop the topic of Xavier.

I swallow the big chunk down without chewing, setting off a fit of coughing. Drinking a full glass of water, I return my gaze to dad.

"They're also better, I think," I tell him. "We haven't had any more graded quizzes or assignments though, so I can't be sure."

Dad nods in understanding. "Will he be coming over on the weekends too?" he asks.

I don't answer for a moment. We haven't really talked about it, but I've been thinking of asking him that.

So when he sits beside me on the couch an hour after the dinner and we study through Advanced Calculus -- which Xavier is worse at than Classics -- I decide to ask him.

"Will you be coming to study over the weekend as well?"

Xavier doesn't answer for a moment, engrossed in the sum he's supposed to be solving.

"I signed up for double shifts," he finally murmurs in a low voice without looking up from his notes. "Tomorrow as well. Can I take the day off?"

"Uh ... yeah," I answer, my heart sinking. I've begun to look forward to my study time with Xavier, waiting all day for 8:00 to arrive so I can expect him over. But to be fair, he isn't bound to be as regular as I want him to be. He's free to miss days, or even give up altogether. God, I sure hope he doesn't.

Twirling my fingers and looking down, I don't notice when Xavier glances towards me.

"I can cancel if you want," he says, taking me by surprise.

I look up to see Xavier's grey eyes watching me. I struggle to not let his eyes distract me as I formulate an answer to his suggestion. Did he just say he would cancel his double shift at work if I want him too? He'd do that? For me?

Can I please freak out?

I clear my throat, sitting straighter.

"No, it's okay," I force out. I don't want him to feel compelled to cancel his plans because of me either. Besides, what if he refuses? That would be so embarrassing.

Xavier nods, returning to his homework. I look down at my own work too, smiling at the thought that he would pick me over work ...

Which pays ...

In money ...

Which he needs ...

And would give up ...

For me!

I'm pulled out of my internal freak-out phase by the vibration of the couch. Having been lost in thought, I almost scream, thinking it's an earthquake. Luckily I catch myself before I can act like a total idiot because Xavier takes out his phone from the pocket of his black jeans and the couch stops vibrating.

"Excuse me," he says inaudibly, getting to his feet and walking a few feet towards the door.

I stay in my place, wishing I wasn't so compelled to listen to what he's saying. The house is dead silent -- dad being in his room -- so I can hear every word Xavier mumbles.

"Yeah. Hm. Okay. Yeah. Okay."

Isn't he eloquent? He could be an orator.

He sighs deeply before speaking again. "I'll see you at the warehouse around the block at six tomorrow."

Is it just me or is this the longest sentence I have heard Xavier say?

I hear his light footsteps and he sits down on the couch again, placing the phone between us. He goes back to work and I return to mine.

Xavier's behavior hasn't changed since we started the study sessions, and though today is the fifth session we're having together -- including the one on the night I brought him home -- he's just as quiet and distant as he was on the first. He doesn't initiate conversations, doesn't ask questions, doesn't even ask me how I'm doing or what we're studying. He just listens, a passive recipient of my endless blubber.

I wouldn't go as far as to call myself a talkative person, but I do talk enough. I talk to people when I'm with them, taking part in a two-way conversation. I answer with sentences that are long enough to be considered polite too. Xavier on the other hand, is quiet to the point of being considered rude.

Dad coming out of his room signals the end of our study session and the beginning of my ten o clock curfew. Xavier rises to his feet automatically, greeting my dad and heading mechanically towards the door. I follow him, seeing him off and locking up. Our usual routine.

"So I'll see you ... tomorrow in school," I catch myself, mentally giving myself a face-palm for how weird and stalker-ish I sound.

"And then on Monday," he adds, again giving me the feeling that he knows what's on my mind.

Maybe he's a vampire who can hear my thoughts.

"Yeah." I smile.

As Xavier turns away and walks off without glancing over his shoulder, I huff, throwing back my head and closing the door before turning around. I head over to the couch to gather up my study things and am sorting them out when I see something shining between the couch cushions. Reaching out, I pull it out.

My mouth opens in a comical 'O' as I look down at the black phone in my hand. I hurry over to the door and pull it open, hoping that Xavier hasn't gone too far and maybe even came back to get his phone. He's nowhere in sight.

Closing the door again, I turn around and turn the phone in my hands. The model is old, and the screen has numerous cracks on it. The mirrorlike black back is faded and the phone looks quite old.

I guess I'll just give it to him at school then, I decide, putting the phone in my pocket and returning to cleaning up the living room before I head upstairs to my room to sleep.

My plan to give Xavier his phone the next day in school fails when he doesn't show up in class. His seat next to mine remains empty during calculus, and even in classics, and by the end of the day I'm pretty sure he didn't come to school at all.

Doesn't he know he left his phone at my house? Doesn't he want it back?

"Have you seen Xavier today?" I ask Nancy as we head home from school.

Instead of answering, Nancy turns to look at me with narrowed eyes.

"Why?" she asks me suspiciously.

"No reason. Just asking." I shrug, not wanting to tell Nancy about the study sessions. It's not that I want to keep my acquaintance with Xavier a secret, but knowing how dramatic Nancy is, she would probably be screaming it off to the whole school before I can tell her to shut up.

"Why's that?" Nancy inquires.

"No reason, Nance. I just wanted to see him."

Before I know it, Nancy has spun around to face me, grabbing me by my arms and making me stop.

"Did he say something to you?" she asks, her eyes wide and face set.

"What?" I blurt out, taken aback by her expression.

"Is he blackmailing you?" she demands.

"Wha -- no."

"Is he stalking you and threatening you?"

"No, Nance, what --"

"Are you buying drugs from him?"

"Nancy, stop, you're acting crazy." I grab her hands and throw them off.

Nancy doesn't look convinced.

"Look, if you did something stupid and he has your nudes or something, just tell me and we'll figure out a way to murder his pretty ass."

"Nancy ..." I narrow my eyes and give her an annoyed scowl. "Shut up please."

"Hey, these are the only things I can expect from Xavier." Nancy shrugs, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"You don't know him," I say, turning away and taking quick steps so she can't grab me again.

"Oh, and you do?" she calls after me but I ignore her, wondering what she would say if she knew that I know him better than most people who think they know him.

I return home and am sitting on the bed with the forgotten phone in hand. The old, brow-beaten phone gives off sad, abandoned vibes. Turning it over and over in my head, I finally click the button on the side, knowing I probably shouldn't. The screen lights up and a simple sliding lock appears in flashing silver on the cracked screen. I swipe my finger to the side and the screen unlocks easily.

Curiosity wins over the surprise that Xavier's phone has no lock. I mean, what guy in this world doesn't have a complicated lock on his phone? Or wait, I don't know many guys to generalize so ... yeah, ignore me.

The text icon catches my attention and I almost open it to see his texts. I change my mind, not wanting to be intrusive. Clicking on the home button, I back out of his apps. I catch sight of his notification, one missed call. It reminds me of the call he received last night.

Wait a minute!

I can find Xavier at that warehouse he was talking to his friend about. That's the best way to give him his phone back. I mean, I won't be seeing him for three days now and he might need his phone at work. I know if I lost my phone I would want it returned to me before I realize it's not with me. My phone is my life.

Jumping off the bed, I hurry out of my room and down the stairs.

"Going out?" dad calls after me as I skid to a stop at the door.

"Yeah, I'll be back soon," I yell back, waving hastily and opening the door to plunge my body over the threshold.

'I'll see you at the warehouse around the block at six tomorrow,' he had said.

Glancing at the time on his phone, I see it's fifteen minutes to six. I have just enough to get there and give Xavier his phone before his friends get there.

As I approach Xavier's neighborhood, I keep my eyes peeled.

Around the block, around the block ... here it is!

I stop in my tracks, my eyes scanning the about-to-tumble-down building of the abandoned warehouse that looks like the headquarters of some gang out of a crime thriller.

'Maybe Xavier really does sell drugs,' someone inside me says. 'He never told you he doesn't, right?'

'Shut up, inner Haley,' I tell it.

Thankfully she listens, and I slowly make my way towards the entrance of the warehouse. Is it strange that the place is missing the door and most of the windows? That's kind of comforting. At least I can't get locked inside by accident.

Broken glass and splintered wood make crumbling sounds under my feet as I walk slowly through the rectangular hole that was supposed to have a door but doesn't. I'm not even surprised when I see the interior, which is just as creepy as I would expect. The place is dark, despite the fact that there are no windows blocking the light from outside. I wonder how the hell this could even be?

Before I can take in any more of the place though, someone grabs me from behind, a hand coming to clasp on my mouth, cutting off my scream instantly. My body is lifted into the air, spun around and slammed down again, my back hitting one of the cool concrete pillars and knocking the breath out of me.

The hand vanishes from my mouth and I prepare to scream again, stopping suddenly when I see the familiar face.

"Xavier! You scared the shit out of me --" I cry out.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Xavier demands in a low voice, sounding more firm than I have ever heard him to be.

I open my mouth but freeze when I see the panic on his face. His brow is furrowed, breathing heavy, eyes wide, lips ...

"I ... I came to find you." I pant, forcing myself to tear my gaze away from his lips. "You didn't come to school so --"

He clasps a hand over my mouth again, and my own fingers clutch desperately at his arm.

"Shh!" he warns me, shifting closer so that his breath tickles my skin.

He smells like shampoo.

I love shampoo.

I hold still under his arms. For a moment I think this is some romantic stunt Xavier is pulling, but my idealistic assumption jumps out of the window when I hear voices coming closer.

"I can't get you out now," Xavier breathes through his teeth, making me shiver. "Just ... stay here. Hide. Don't move. Don't make a sound. No matter what you hear, don't come out. Got it?"

I nod quickly, my eyes widening when I hear the distress in his tone. This must be serious if he's talking this much.

His form vanishes from in front of me and before I know it, I hear him walking away. I stay still like he said, not moving a muscle and keeping my lips sealed shut.

"Hey, kid, glad you could make it," says a thick, manly voice. "We got a bone to pick with you."

I frown. The voice sounds older and more mature, and ... threatening. Maybe it isn't Xavier's friends I thought he was meeting. Maybe this isn't a friendly meeting that I thought I would be okay crashing. Maybe whatever this is, is bigger than I thought it was. Maybe I've gotten myself in trouble.

And maybe ... I don't know Xavier after all.

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