The Distance Between Us(36)

“Yes.” Skye jumps up and moves forward. When she’s settled into the chair next to Xander’s listening to the band he spins around to face me.

“So why not this?” I ask, sitting on the couch again.

“What?”

“Why wouldn’t you produce music for a living? It seems like a passion of yours.”

He rolls the chair forward until our knees bump. “My father would never front the money for something like that.”

I stare at our knees, wondering if I should use the wheels on his chair to my advantage and shove him away. I ignore the urge. “But he built this studio?”

“My older brother is a classical guitarist. This was to provide a creative outlet. A hobby. I spent a lot of time in here with him learning this stuff. But this is not a career in my father’s opinion.”

“I thought you didn’t care what your father thought,” I say.

He narrows his eyes as if considering the question. “I guess I care what my father’s money thinks.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Without it I can’t be free of him. It’s like a double-edged sword.”

I get what he’s saying: that he needs money to go to college, get his own career, so he can make his own money. But I wonder if Xander really only cares about the money. He seems to put a lot of effort into making his father angry. I’m guessing he cares a lot about what his father thinks.

On the other side of the glass Mason sings with his eyes closed. He looks ridiculous.

Xander taps my knee with a closed fist, bringing my attention back to him. “I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t think . . .”

I tilt my head, waiting for him to finish.

“After last Saturday . . . and you returned my camera without a word. . . .” His eyes bore into mine.

“What?” I ask, dying to know why he’s not finishing his thoughts. What he’s leaving unsaid. Did how we left things bother him as much as they did me?

“I’m out of town this weekend but next Saturday? Are we still on?”

I blink once. That’s what he wants? More career days?

Skye lets out a yelp, startling me. “That was so awesome.” She stands.

Xander stands as well, walks over, and pushes the Mic button. “That’s a wrap. Good job, guys.” He goes to the table and pockets his keys and cell then looks at me apologetically. “I didn’t know you were coming. I really am on a tight schedule.” He checks his watch. “I’m supposed to be at the airport in twenty minutes.”

“I’m pretty sure we can walk ourselves to the car.”

“So I’ll see you next Saturday?”

I want to say, “I don’t know, you better check with your girlfriend first. She just called; should we ask her?” But I don’t. I just nod. Because girlfriend or not, I want to see him on Saturday. Apparently I’m further from being over him than I hoped and I hate myself for being so weak.





Chapter 24



Monday morning as I say good-bye to my mom and grab my backpack for school there’s a knock on the door. I look over to see Xander standing there holding his two cups. My heart jumps to my throat. No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. He has a girlfriend. If I knew . . . My heart doubles its speed when he smiles. If more than my heart knew that we have something, I could open that door right now and face disappointing my mother.

“Who’s that?”

This is not a good time for this. My mom and I finally feel right again. I shake my head no, but instead of walking away Xander holds up a drink with a smirk as if to say, I’m not leaving so let me in.

I narrow my eyes and smile a little. All right, if he wants to play it that way. Game on. “Oh, that looks like Mrs. Dalton’s grandson. He came in the other day to pick up a doll for her. I’ll just tell him we don’t open until nine today and to come back later.”

“Oh no, honey. Mrs. Dalton is our best customer. Why don’t you let him in and see what he needs.”

Or there’s that. Crap.

I slowly unlock the door. “Hi,” I say when I open it. His familiar scent wafts in with the breeze and doesn’t help my already racing heart. I take a deep breath. “We’re not open yet. Did your grandma need something?”

He takes a sip of the drink then hands it to me. I cringe. That act alone is going to make my mom think he is the most obnoxious rich person in the world who wants me to hold his drink while he shops.

“I want to meet your mom,” he says loud enough for her to hear.

“Yes, my mom is much more knowledgeable about the dolls than I am.” I turn toward my mother. “Mom, he . . . um . . . I’m sorry, what was your name again? Wellington or something?”

A crease of confusion forms between his brows, but I can tell he also thinks it’s funny.

“No, that wasn’t your name. Um . . .”

“Xander.”

“Right. I knew it was something odd like that.”

“Caymen,” my mom says. “Sorry, my daughter is very dry. She’s just kidding.”

“Last time Xander came in he was really interested in the sleeping baby dolls. Didn’t you say they made your heart happy just to look at them?”

“I don’t recall saying that but it sounds like me.”