*.*.*.*.*.*

"Stop!" I gasp.

Xavier looks over his shoulder at me, a slight frown marring his beautiful features.

I jump off the bed -- forgetting that I'm hardly wearing anything -- and run over to him, grabbing his arm and pulling away from the window-sill.

"What's wrong?" Xavier asks.

Panting, I look up into his grey eyes.

"The kitchen," I breathe. "It's right beneath my bedroom, and the windows, they're vertically placed, so if you jump, and since dad is in the kitchen, you'll land outside that kitchen window, and he always sits in the chair that looks out the window, and he'll see you because you'll be there, and --"

"Breathe, breathe, Haley, breathe," Xavier stops me, placing his hands on either side of my face and looking me straight in the eyes.

I blink.

"Breathe," he repeats softly, his eyes gentle.

Realizing that I've been holding my breath, I exhale it slowly, inhaling another. Xavier looks satisfied, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"What do we do?" he asks softly.

"I don't know," I whimper like a wounded puppy.

Xavier chuckles, grinning. "Come on, Haley. You got this. You're smart, I know you'll think of something."

"I'm only book smart, you know that," I confess, my eyes wide. "You know I'm dumb when it comes to real life. I don't know how to handle it. I'm lame."

He rolls his eyes. "No, you're not. Now stop freaking out and think."

"How about," I begin. "You hide here until dad leaves for work and then you can go?"

"It's Sunday," Xavier reminds me.

"Then you can hide here till tomorrow," I say stupidly.

"I have to return this suit." Xavier teases me with a smile. "Besides, I have work tonight."

I stare at him. "What do you even do?" I blurt out. "I mean, sorry, I don't mean to intrude or --"

"I work at a shoe factory," Xavier tells me, his thumb caressing my cheek. "In packaging."

He smiles but I don't return it, wondering how life can be so cruel to some people. And this thought always takes me back to how cruel people are too. Now that I think about Xavier before I got to know him, I can actually reflect on my own flawed judgments.

Judging by Xavier's slipping grades and bruised exterior, I had been just like everyone else, assuming the worst. I hadn't laughed at him or mocked him, but I didn't have a good opinion of him. After getting to know Xavier, I have realized how shallow we human beings are. We judge by appearances, and even then, we assume the worst.

Seeing his bruises, everyone had assumed something related to gangs, and fighting, and illegal acts. Why hadn't anyone thought of domestic violence?

When he was constantly absent from class and failing his tests, everyone assumed he was into something bad like drugs and gangs. Why hadn't anyone considered he was working two jobs to support his family and not buying books because they cost too much?

Those who saw Xavier at a rehab center would come to school and openly tell everyone that he was using drugs and was addicted. Why hadn't anyone thought that he might just be trying to get help for his hopelessly addicted mother?

"Haley?" Xavier brings my attention back to the present, placing his forehead against mine and closing his eyes.

"I'll ... distract dad somehow," I say, trying to set aside my inner melancholy.

Xavier's reality always makes me sad, but what bothers me even more is how blind I -- and everyone else -- was to it. Lost in our bubbles of self-obsession and narcissism, we had been content sitting around and gossiping about him, assuming things we hadn't the slightest idea about. We were fine considering ourselves better than the boy who showed up in school once a week, his face bruised and arms empty. We would snicker behind his back when the school counselor called him into his office, our favorite pastime being guessing what could it be this time.

"Be careful," Xavier says, planting a soft kiss on my cheek.

I roll my eyes. "You're the one about to jump out of a second-story window and you're asking me to be careful," I point out.

"I don't want you to get in trouble. Me? I'm used to it."

Xavier's tone is light when he says it, his face soft and smiling, but these simple words tear deep into my heart and break it into pieces. Without thinking about it, and only having one thing on my mind -- that Xavier is fucking amazing -- I wrap my arms around his waist, burying my face into the front of his tuxedo. Xavier's arms curl around my shoulders, and he holds me.

"I love your hugs," he whispers into my hair.

"I love everything about you," I confess.

It's true, and that is something I never thought possible. I've never been a hopeless romantic, but with Xavier, I can be anything I want, everything I never imagined myself being. And right now, I'm the girl madly, hopeless, and head over heels in love.

Okay, maybe. I think.

I frown to myself, trying to figure out if I'm actually in love. I know I have a massive crush on Xavier so I can leave out the love part for now. Whether or not I love him is one thing, but I do love everything about him. That's one thing I'm sure of.

Before Xavier can answer though, I pull away, taking a deep breath. He looks questioningly at me, and I look at the time. It's five minutes to nine.

"I'm going to talk to dad," I tell Xavier. "You should jump at exactly ...one minute to nine."

"Why not nine?" Xavier raises an eyebrow.

"Fine. Nine."

"That's a rhyme," Xavier beams.

"You just made it better." I grin back, placing my hands on my hips and poking my chin out.

Xavier's bites his lip, clearing his throat when his eyes trail down my body. I look down, flushing when I realize I'm still wearing only my underwear.

Holy cheesecakes!

I spin around quickly, hurriedly pulling open my wardrobe and snatching the first piece of clothing I can find. I throw on the shirt and a pair of jeans, jumping on one foot to get it on. I hear Xavier snickering behind me but I ignore him.

'Pretend he's not here,' I tell myself. 'Pretend he's --'

I slip, grabbing on to the edge of the wardrobe to keep myself from landing face-down onto the ground. It's only when I've regained my balance that I notice a pair of hands supporting me. Xavier's smile is gone, and he looks serious when he helps me straighten up.

"What?" I ask, taken aback by his expression.

"You could've gotten hurt," he mumbles.

I smile, not having the words to tell him how adorably sweet he is.

He stands beside me while I get dressed, running into my bathroom and quickly rinsing my mouth and brushing my teeth, pulling all my hair together and tying them into a bun without brushing them. By the time I'm done, it's already 9:05.

"9:10," I tell Xavier now, and he nods.

One quick kiss later, I'm running down the stairs and into the kitchen. Sure enough, dad is sitting in his usual chair facing the window, reading newspaper. His plate is still full, and I notice he hasn't started eating yet, probably waiting for me.

"Good morning," I greet breathlessly, clearing my throat to regain my normal tone.

"Morning, honey," dad greets without looking up from his paper. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, dad," I say, switching on the coffee maker and pouring coffee beans into it.

"I heard the car last night," dad tells me and I freeze. "Looks like you got back on time. I'm so proud of you."

You won't be when you find out what Xavier and I did after we got back home.

If you ever find out.

"And Xavier," dad continues, making my hands shake. "He's such a nice boy."

"Yeah," I gasp. "Hey, daddy?" I spin around to face him, putting on my most innocent smile. "I think there's something wrong with the car."

"There is?" dad asks.

"Yeah, come, I'll show you," I say.

"Let's have breakfast first, dear, I'm starving."

"It'll just be a minute," I insist, glancing at the clock that shows 9:08 already.

Why is the freaking time flying?

"Haley --"

9:09.

"Daddy, you never listen to me," I cry out in panic, stomping over to dad and grabbing his wrist. "Come on, please, come now, it's an emergency!"

My frantic yelling clearly shocks my dad, but he decides to let me be the weirdo I am, rising to his feet and putting the newspaper on the table.

"Okay, okay," he agrees.

I drag dad out of the kitchen with seconds to spare, leading him out of the house and into the garage. We stop in front of the car, and now I have to figure out what to say.

"Dad, this paint," I begin lamely. "It's so ... last year."

I definitely need some training in all this sneaking-around shit.

"I mean, nobody drives white cars anymore. We need to get this painted."

My dad is staring at me. Just standing still, looking at me, and not saying a word. He raises an eyebrow just a fraction, giving me a look that implies that I have entirely lost my mind.

"I'm going to have my toast," dad finally says, turning away.

"No, wait, dad!" I grab his arm in panic, my eyes wide. "I need a favor."

The bored expression on my dad's face is priceless.

"If I get an acceptance letter from Stanford, you will buy me a car," I say to him. "You will, dad, if you love me, you will. Otherwise, I will never speak to you and forget that I have a father that I really love and --"

"Can we go inside now?" dad asks, gesturing towards his pajamas.

They have rockets on them.

"Before the entire neighborhood throws eggs at me," he adds.

I contemplate. Considering how much I've rambled, I'm assuming and hoping that Xavier has made it out of my house alive and without getting caught. I haven't answered yet, but dad has turned away and is waking out of the garage.

"So I take it the prom went well," he says, when I follow him towards the house. "How did Xavier go home, though? He could have stayed over the night."

If this is some trick of my dad to get me to spill the beans, I'm definitely not falling for it.

I keep my eyes on the ground, thinking of how insanely crazy I am.

"He has work at night," I tell dad, not thinking straight.

"Guess he went to work in his tuxedo then," dad points out.

I frown in confusion. Is dad suggesting that Xavier dropped me home so late he didn't have time to change for work?

"And he also works around here somewhere now, good for you, huh, Haley?"

My head snaps up and I stare at my dad's back. I stop next to him, following his gaze to the sidewalk two houses from ours. I'm dumbstruck and lost for words, my eyes fixed on the tall, black-haired boy, walking briskly the other way, dressed in a creesed tuxedo. There is no doubt that the guy is Xavier, and knowing my dad, he's probably put two and two together and come to a conclusion that isn't far from the truth.

Well ... fuck!

*.*.*.*.*.*