The next day Xavier had a sports meeting at morning break, so I spent the time listening to
Molly and Taylah talk animatedly about a clothing outlet just out of town. There they could buy fake designer labels that looked so authentic no one would guess they weren’t the “real deal.”
When they asked me to go with them, I was so preoccupied that I agreed without hesitation.
Even when they invited me to a beach bonfire that Saturday night, I nodded my consent without really registering the details of the invitation.
I was glad when fifth period finally came around and Xavier and I had French together. I felt a rush of relief to be in the same room as him even though I could barely focus. I desperately needed to talk to him now, even if I hadn’t decided what I was going to say. I just knew that it couldn’t wait.
He was less than a handsbreadth away, and I had to sit on my fingers to keep them from reaching out and touching him. Partly because I wanted to reassure myself that I hadn’t imagined him but also because it felt as if we were two magnets drawn to each other; resisting was more painful than succumbing. The minutes crawled by, and it seemed as if time had slowed deliberately just to spite me.
Xavier sensed my strange mood and stayed seated after the bell, watching everyone else file past. While I put on a charade of packing up my books and pencils, he sat very still without fidgeting. A few curious onlookers cast glances in our direction, probably hoping to pick up some threads of the conversation that they might report back to their friends as juicy gossip.
“I tried to call you last night but there was no answer,” he said, seeing that I was struggling to start. “I was worried about you.”
I fiddled nervously with the zipper of my pencil case, which seemed to be jammed. I must have looked uncomfortable because Xavier stood up and put his hands on my shoulders.
“What’s up, Beth?” There was a familiar crease between his eyebrows, which always appeared when he was concerned.
“I guess yesterday’s accident just drained me,” I said. “But I’m better now.”
“That’s good. But something tells me there’s more.”
Even in the short time I’d known him, Xavier was always able to read my moods, yet his own eyes betrayed nothing of what he might be feeling. He didn’t look away; his turquoise gaze was like a laser boring into me.
“My life is pretty complicated,” I began tentatively.
“Why don’t you try explaining it? I might surprise you.”
“This situation,” I said, “you and I spending time together, it’s turning out to be harder than I thought. . . .” I paused. “It’s better than I ever imagined, but I have other responsibilities, other duties that I can’t ignore.”
My voice rose in volume and pitch as I felt a wave of emotion explode in my chest. I stopped and took a deep breath.
“It’s okay, Beth,” Xavier said. “I know you have a secret.”
I felt a sudden icy fear take hold of me, but at the same time a flooding relief. If Xavier already knew I was a fraud and a liar, it meant I’d failed completely in all aspects of our mission. Rule number one for all Agents of Light was to keep our identity a secret as we worked to piece the world back together—exposure could result in all kinds of chaos. But then again, it could also mean that Xavier had chosen to accept me anyway and the truth might not drive him away.
“You do?” I whispered.
He shrugged. “It’s obvious you’re hiding something. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s upsetting you.”
I didn’t answer immediately. More than anything I wanted to tell him everything, to let all my secrets and fears pour out like wine from a spilled bottle, staining everything in their path.
“I understand that for one reason or another you can’t or won’t talk about it,” Xavier said.
“But you don’t have to. I can respect your privacy.”
“That’s not fair to you,” I said, feeling more torn than ever. The idea of walking away from him left a physical pain in my chest, like my heart was slowly breaking in two.
“Isn’t that for me to decide?”
“Don’t make this harder. I’m trying to protect you!”
“Protect me?” Xavier laughed. “From what?”
“From me,” I said quietly, realizing how ridiculous that must sound.
“You don’t look very dangerous to me. Unless you turn into a werewolf at night. . . .”
“I’m just not what I seem.” I shrank away from him, as if trying to hide myself from the truth. My whole body felt weak and drained of energy. I sagged against a wall, unable to meet his gaze.
“No one is. Look, you think I haven’t figured out there’s something different about you?
All I have to do is look at you.”
“What is it?” I asked curiously.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “But I know it’s what I like about you.”
“What I’m trying to tell you is that just because you like me doesn’t make me what you want or need.”
“What do you think I need?”
“Someone you can have an honest relationship with. What’s the point otherwise?”
“Are you trying to tell me that person can’t be you?” Xavier’s expression was unreadable.
His face appeared completely impassive—wiped of all emotion. I supposed that after everything he’d been through, he wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.
I knew he was trying to make it easier for me, but the bluntness of his question had the opposite effect. Now that the idea was out in the open, it sounded far too final. I was still struggling to find the right words, and I worried that my silence might come across as indifference.
“It’s okay,” Xavier continued. “I know it can’t be easy for you, and I don’t want to make things harder. Would it be helpful if I kept my distance for a while?”
How fickle and contradictory were human emotions! I’d spent the last few minutes trying to suggest this very idea but now found myself devastated by his readiness to walk away, even if his motivation was my well-being. I wasn’t sure what reaction I’d expected, but this wasn’t it.
Did I want to see him drop to his knees and declare his undying love? Of course he wasn’t going to do that, but I couldn’t let him walk away. I didn’t think I’d be able to stand it.
“So that’s it then?” I choked out. “I won’t see you anymore?”
Xavier looked confused. “Hang on—isn’t that what you want?”
“Is that all you’re going to say?” I demanded. “You’re not even going to try and change my mind?”
“Do you want me to try and change your mind?” His quizzical, affectionate smile was back.
I paused to think. I knew what I should say. A simple no would end it all and return things to how they’d been before the moment we met in the corridor outside the chemistry lab, when