Truth, Lies, and the Space Inbetween

Chapter Nine

It was two weeks before anything of note happened. It was still an awkward dance of stay-away-from-me and I-want-to-get-closer-to-you between myself and Hunter, but it was bearable.

Xavier and I had gotten closer; he seemed more relaxed and open, no longer worried an awful lot, which I think had a large part to do with Hunter and Xavier's previous girlfriends. He avoided any conversation that could lead to talking about his brother in any way, and to be quite honest, it made me intrigued. Why was he so hesitant to discuss him? I was still curious about the mess Hunter had gotten himself into that had resulted in them having to move - as soon as that comment got out, rumours sprouted all over the school like weeds. I'd heard Hunter was in a gang and pissed off the leader, that he had to move to escape a model he'd been involved with's angry boyfriend, that he'd burnt down his last school, and even that he'd pulled off a major heist and was now laying low. All equally farfetched. Still, I was curious, though breaching the subject with Xavier appeared to be a challenge.

***

Sitting in my car, I hum along to the radio absentmindedly as I concentrate on driving. It's Saturday morning and I'm headed to Xavier's house to hang out. And by hang out I mean make out, with maybe a little bit of talking. We haven't gone further, but honestly I like not being rushed into things straight away by guys who only want one thing.

Pulling up at the mammoth house, I park my midnight black convertible to the side, grabbing my phone and keys and climbing out, I stride towards the front door, not bothering to lock the car behind me - it's a fenced in property, and I've left the top down anyway. It's a cloudless day, hot, with no chance of rain.

Pulling my aviator sunglasses to the top of my head, I knock on the door and wait, shifting slightly from foot to boot-clad foot.

After opening the door, Xavier sweeps me into his arms and kisses me, so passionately for a second I don't know if it's him. Pulling away, he shyly takes my hand and leads me further into the house with a grin.

We don't see anyone on our way up the stairs and down the hall, but Xavier still sneaks, as if anyone could jump out at us. I can't help but giggle at his quiet rushing, dragging me into his room, checking if the coast is clear, and closing his door.

His room is vast, like the rest of the house, and decorated with greens and whites. There is a glass sliding door to the right, opening to a railed deck, accessible only from his room, and there are posters and awards on a large pin-board across one wall. The carpet is a dark green colour, and his wooden bedframe, dresser, and desk make the room look like part of a forest. The walls and sheets are white, in contrast to the bold greens. I actually didn't expect such bold colours - Xavier seemed more subtle. Besides the posters, and a few photos in frames on the walls, the room is quite bare.

Stepping towards the pin-board, I examine the posters and awards.

"Polo?" I say, questioning.

"Uh, yeah", Xavier says, and I can just tell he's blushing. "I've played since I was twelve."

"You must be really good", I reply, admiring all the ribbons and trophies and certificates, along with photos of Xavier with many people, including team photos, and a few of him horseback, and mid game.