The Artist | #3✓

Chapter 10

"Are you paying attention to what I'm saying?"

"Uh, sure..."

I sighed at Xander's words, folding my legs yoga style as I watched him scribble away in his journal. We were in the guest room where he was staying and had been talking on his bed — somewhat. It had been more of a one-sided conversation with me talking about college and how I didn't want to share a kitchen or living room space.

"You're not listening to me," I complained, watching as Xander shook his head with a small throaty noise that sounded like some sort of denial. I groaned, rolling my eyes a bit before I looked away from him to his room. He'd personalized it so much. There were posters hanging everywhere, and his books scattered in every corner from his desk, on either side of it, under it, and around his bed. The book he was writing in was the one he usually shoved under his bed. I frowned a bit at the realization, turning to face Xander who had a small smile on his face as he wrote.

"What are you writing?" My question seemed to throw him off because he immediately paused what he was doing to look at me with a non-focused gaze, like he'd been caught red-handed doing something embarrassing — which was probably the case now that I think about it.

"Nothing..." he trailed, closing the book. I bit my bottom lip, watching as he made to throw the book under the bed. If I was one of my sisters — probably Candice. I would have wrestled him for the book to take a peep, but from how defensive he was being I decided that it was probably safer to pretend as if nothing happened and just stir the conversation in a different direction.

"What were you talking about again?"

Oh, he's doing that himself. I thought to myself when he spoke up in a shaky voice. I felt a little bad for killing his fun, but that didn't mean I was no longer curious about what he'd been writing.

"College really... Are you getting a roommate?" I asked, watching as he nodded in response.

"It's cheaper, and I don't really think I'd wake up early enough for classes if I was the only one in a room. Human alarm clocks are helpful, you know." We laughed at that, and I nodded at his words as I ran a hand through my hair. Xander and I got along fine, and he was one of my favorite cousins.

"Yeah, I get that," I said in response, thinking to how I used Wyatt as an alarm clock since he was always the first one to wake up and turn the lights in the hallway on. I let my gaze wander to the window, watching the light rain that had started a while ago. Raindrops were already making their way to the window's glass in small splattered stains.

"Plus, Maxwell's going to my college."

"What?"

"Nothing," Xander muttered. I frowned at him, watching as he turned his gaze to the window I'd been staring at just a moment ago.

"Who's Maxwell?" I asked, watching as Xander shrugged at my question with a sigh. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, you know," I added, not liking the almost painful expression on his face.

"He's a guy from my high school. He'll be studying music," Xander explained, playing with his fingernails that were long and well-manicured. "I like him — like, a lot."

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling a little flustered by the pin-drop silence that followed his words. Xander didn't say anything, but his face was flushed as his lips held a very small smile — almost sad.

"He's amazing," he added after a minute or two passed by.

"Okay..." I trialed, not knowing I should add to the discussion.

"If you don't want to talk about it I could shut up," Xander said in a nervous chuckle, making me shake my head.

"No, you can talk. I'm just — stunned?" I tried to explain as he laughed.