Coming to Terms ✔️

11: Slow Dancing in the Dark

"I don't like it."

Georgia and Dakota sat on my bed staring at the light blue button down shirt that I'd chosen for the gala. I played with my fingers anxiously – though I wasn't quite sure why. It was just another day for Xavier.

Dakota pursed her lips from side to side. "It's nice, but a bit boring for you, Har," she said thoughtfully. I ran my hands over my face with a sigh. "Let me see what you have."

Georgia was snickering at my despair from the bed, so I shot her a look. "It's not funny," I spat.

"It is funny! You haven't been this nervous since prom," she said. "I know I should beat your ass for leaving my brother in the dark but I'm kind of Team Xavier. Maybe he'll make a move on you tonight."

"Or not," I grumbled. "You know Julian calls him Gayvier?"

Just as I said it, Dakota exited my closet with an arm full of shirts on hangers. "He also calls you Harry Poppins," she grinned, making my jaw drop to the floor. That fake motherfucker was going to hear it next time I saw him. "It's out of love."

We decided on a deep maroon button down with black skinny slacks and a matching blazer. At the last second, Dakota unbuttoned the top three buttons to give me a more sultry look. I stared at my reflection.

My hair had grown a little bit, the blonde edges starting to fall over my forehead in a less than graceful manner. I tried to style it the best I could, but the longer my hair grew, the more it curled. And I didn't even know how to begin taking care of the curls. My green eyes sort of popped next to the burgundy color of my shirt.

"You look hot," Georgia said casually, lounging across my bed like an old Spanish painting. "I'd do you."

"In your dreams," I said with a pretend sneer.

Sure enough, it was nearly four-thirty, which was when Xavier and I were going to leave for the venue. It was apparently some fancy schmancy real estate gala just celebrating a good year of sales or whatever. Xavier said they gave out awards and told speeches. I was in it for the food.

Georgia left and Dakota retreated to her room, wishing me good luck. I checked my appearance one last time and left my house.

Xavier was standing in his driveway, leaning against his truck while looking down at his phone. I almost tripped over my feet upon seeing him. He was nearly unrecognizable.

The first thing I noticed was his suit, a plain black with a crisp white shirt underneath. I hadn't seen him so put together since graduation, maybe. I couldn't look away. But then I noticed he had cut his hair. The dark locks no longer curled around his ears, instead cut close to his head on the sides and feathering barely over his forehead. I stared in shock.

"You cut your hair?"

"Dayla insisted. She wanted me to look less 'homeless,' as she put it," he grumbled, apparently not happy about the decision. "Does it look bad?" He ran some insecure fingers through it.

God, no.

"It looks nice," I coughed, "I guess."

He met my eyes and smiled, looking down my body and then back up. "You clean up nice, Bradford," he said quietly and didn't wait for a response, hopping into his truck and slamming the door. I smirked to myself and followed suit, walking around to the passengers side.

His car smelled like him. Musky, with a hint of clean. I patted my thighs in a rhythmic, anxious manner. We drove in near silence, save for the music Xavier was playing on the stereo. The venue was a little ways away and not speaking was sort of killing me.