Find Me

15 • Apprehensive

"I hope I'm not intruding," Xavier says quietly, looking awkwardly to the ground.

Shaking my head, I smile even though I'm actually terrified. My stalker made it perfectly clear that I am to stay away from Xavier, but here he is, and here I am. I know that I can't be near him, especially not socializing with him. I can't let anyone else get hurt on my account, but for some reason, I can't seem to tell Xavier to go away. I'm not sure if it's because I need a friend right now, or it's the fact I may have feelings for him.

You can't have feelings for him Melanie, and you know it. It will only give your stalker another person to hurt, my conscience says.

"Come in," I murmur, ignoring the voice in my head. My grip on the knife handle doesn't lessen as I watch Xavier slip past me. He waits while I close the door, trying to maneuver myself so he cannot see the knife behind my back, the one I would have put through his chest if he was someone besides him or my mother. Although, I can't be sure he isn't my stalker. I mean, it's more than a coincidence he'd show up at my front door right after I got a text taunting the fact that I forgot to lock the window last night.

I turn back to Xavier, who's looking sheepishly around the house. As I back up to the counter, I slide the knife across the laminate as quietly as I can. I think he either notices and doesn't say anything, or is completely oblivious to the fact I had just been holding a sharp kitchen knife in my fingers moments before.

Discreetly, I cross my arms over my chest to cover up what I'd just done. Then, I say a little too harshly, "What do you want?"

Xavier looks startled, "Well, I just thought you might want to talk. You kind of ran off on me the other day..."

I run a hand through my hair, wondering if I should just kick Xavier out. Mom will have a fit if she finds him here when she returns from her walk. Her words echo through my mind again, warning me not to open the door for anyone.

Oops.

I open my mouth to speak, but no words seem to come out. I'm not sure what to say or do. A sudden thought pops into my head. How does he know where I live? I don't recall telling him the last time we had seen each other.

Before I can interrogate him about the matter, he says quickly, "I saw you the other day. That's how I knew this was your place. Sorry, I should have asked if I could stop by the last time we saw each other."

My eyes narrow. He seems too suspicious to keep around here, but on the other hand, I'm desperate for a friend. Sometimes this house feels like a prison I can't escape from no matter how hard I try. Plus, there's the threat to worry about; I have to see if it's legit.

"I can go if you want," he says quietly.

I snap back to attention and quickly shake my head. "No, it's okay. Do you want to sit?"

•••

A half hour later, we're in the living room, chatting like old friends who had just reunited. The first few minutes were awkward and sometimes intense, but I eventually warmed up to the idea of talking to him. He could be pretty comedic when he wanted to be, and kind at other times.