Joe Goldberg is beginning to wonder if there's any more decent people in the world. With both Candace and Beck out of the picture, he's feeling lonely and starting to give up on love. That is, until Leila comes sobbing into Mooney's. Fragile and vul...
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"Ms. Cole, am I in trouble?"
Xavier, my interrupter, has somehow managed to knock a tooth out of Demi's mouth.
I have no idea how, he just has.
"I'll call an administrator." Claudia groans, I stop her.
"He'll get suspended if you do."
"But-"
If Xavier gets suspended, he won't eat. And that look in his eye-
He's genuinely sorry. "Tell me again what happened." I crouch to his level wearing my most earnest smile.
Even so, the young boy hesitates. "I-I was runnin'" he stutters, "a-and I jumped up and and and I tripped. Demi there and and and her tooth c-c-came out! I sorry! It accident!"
I eye Claudia who's not as convinced. "Okay," I roll my shoulders and straighten myself out, "that's a lap around the track, Xavier. You got to be more careful."
He nods quickly and bolts. I smile after him.
"You know he did it on purpose." Claudia sighs. "Xavier's rough."
"All the kids are rough." I shrug pocketing the tooth. "But if we don't show him mercy, what will that teach him about the world?"
The rest of the day moves on quickly, Xavier is true to his word. Cautiously watching his step as he interacts with his friends. Smiling at me every chance he gets for letting him off the hook so easily.
Eventually, I head home. The long, silent car ride gives me a chance to think. It's been three days since I last encountered Joe. I've dodged his calls, ignored his texts, ghosted him without any remorse.
And I'm...happy?
I guess?
I don't know, I miss having someone to talk to at the end of every long day. He'd be the first I'd tell my Xavier story to, but now-
Deep down, I think I knew something wasn't quite right. Joe felt too familiar. Just a little too perfect. I never really had to clue him in to my friends, he seemed to know already. About Evan and Casey. Hope and Jacary. And even Peter. And Don.
He'd slip right into my stories and laugh along with them like he was there all along.
A chill races up my spine.
I shake my head and flick on my blinker, turning into the community.
As I round the corner, I spy a figure doubled over on my porch. Hands latched into a little nest behind a neck. Rough, sandy hair poking out of the slits. Rugged jeans, a flannel-
