Chapter 12: Seven-2

Xavier's ringtone jolts me from my sleep and delivers terrible disappointment when I realize it was only a dream. As wakefulness settles, I also realize how badly I wish it wasn't. "Hello." "Mouse." "Morning," I say sleepily, "what time is it?" "Time for coffee with your best friend," he says. "Meet me?" "I'm not even fully awake yet." "All the more reason for coffee." I yawn, rolling over to find Tori's bed vacated. "Seriously, what time is it?" "Ten in the morning," Xavier says. "You must really not be feeling well. Want me to bring you chicken soup instead?" I want to go back to sleep and dream more about Jax. I don't say that. "No, I can meet you. Give me half an hour." "Perfect," he says. "I'll be at our table." I spend the next twenty minutes in the shower, throwing my hair into a haphazard ponytail, sporting sweatpants and glasses. Once again, I feel like death. If what Jackson says is true, I need to find him. I also need to somehow run this insanity by Xavier. God, his mother drags him to enough palm readers and clairvoyants, he may be more accepting of the idea than I am. Maybe with a little luck, he can convince me that it's true. When I arrive at the coffee shop, it's packed with students all looking as if they're suffering from a serious hangover, X included. He's also sporting sweatpants, yeah, we match, except he is wearing a tee that says 'I'd flex but I like this shirt.' He already has two coffees on the table in front of him and when I approach, he looks up from his phone with a smile on his face but it's fast to dissolve into something resembling deep sympathy. He cringes. "Ouch. You've looked better, Mouse." I sit across from him. "I've felt better. This week is awful." Xavier leans across the table and places the back of his palm on my forehead. "You're burning up." "I know." "You should have said something, I would have brought soup and movies and we could have had a lie in." Whenever Xavier or I is sick, it goes without saying that the healthier of the two always brings remedies like soup and cough lozenges in addition to an array of movies. Xavier is the best at letting me feel sorry for myself when I'm sick and will coddle me endlessly while we watch cheesy comedy flicks. It's one of the things I love most about the guy. He's an excellent caregiver. Problem is, I'm not the standard kind of sick and no amount of cough syrup or sympathy from Xavier is going to help. "I don't think medicine can help me," I tell him. His brows draw down. "What's going on, Lo?" "I need to ask you something, X and its important that you take me seriously." "I always take you seriously." "Where did you get that cupcake? Like, for real." "I told you, from this crazy palm reader chick my mom sees sometimes. She owns a bakery. Why?" I lean in close and whisper, "because Xavier, I think it worked." "It what?" "You're going to think I'm crazy." Xavier looks offended. "I would never think that." "Yeah well brace yourself cause there is a first time for everything." "Try me." "You know I told you about the guy in my dorm." "Yeah," Xavier says angrily, "the creep who was stalking you at the party?" He picks up his coffee and brings it to his lips. "He's not exactly stalking me," I say. "He says he's from the future." "The future huh? That's impressive. And he's here cause you wished for him on a cupcake." He pauses. "You do know how asinine this sounds, don't you?" I don't bother trying to hide my offense. "I knew you'd think I was crazy." Xavier shakes his head. "No, I don't. The idea you're entertaining right now sure as hell is though. I mean c'mon Mouse, you have to laugh, right? It's insane!" Fair enough. I'll allow it without going on the defensive. "Of course it is! It's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. It gets worse." X leans back in his chair. "Oh, this ought to be good." "He says we're married. Ten years from now." Xavier laughs, nearly spitting out his coffee. It's loud and draws the attention of other people in the coffee shop but his jovial reaction is cut short when he sees my face, deadpan. "He what?" "I wished for a love so deep it hurts," I say. "On that stupid cupcake. I just wanted to know what it felt like to love someone completely. Then he shows up and professes to me that he loves me more than life itself." "Lola, you need to go to the police." I shake my head. "I can't." He moves to stand, holding out his hand. "You can and you will. C'mon. We're going now." I shake my head. "Sit back down, Xavier." "No, we're going to the cops, Lola. If I have to drag you there kicking and screaming." "I'm not going Xavier." "Why not?" "Because they'll lock me or worse, Jax up in a mental institution." "Jax? You're on a nickname basis with the guy?" I can feel Xavier's anger rolling off of him in waves as he lowers himself back into the chair. Oh X, if you only knew. I rub my temples. "He's the reason I'm sick, Xavier." I lean forward, body half across the table and add in a whisper, "I wished for something so deep it hurts." "Lola, that's impossible. Stop. Stop right now. You're only setting yourself up for disappointment. It's not true. The guy is a creep and a liar." I clench my jaw and take a long, drawn out breath. "You're not listening to me, Xavier. He know things. Stuff he couldn't possibly know. Things I've never even told you. And whenever he's not within physical proximity of me, this happens." I place my hands on my cheeks, "I get hot, dizzy, sick to my stomach, like I have the worst case of sunstroke. When he's near me, it goes away." "How would you know that?" "Stop worrying about the details, Xavier. I need you to help me. I know it sounds mad." "Mad? It sounds like a fantastical romance novel." "That's what I thought too, but I'm drawn to him. I can't explain it." "Oh my God, Lola. This shit isn't funny anymore. Knock it off." "Xavier please," I plead, "you have to believe me. I need you right now." He downs the rest of his coffee and rises to his feet, hand extended toward me for the second time. "Come, we're going to go see Madame full-of-it and she can clarify that this is all some twisted fucking fantasy you're having. It's not real, Lola. Not even a little." This wasn't the reaction I'd been hoping for. Somehow I wanted Xavier to tell me it could happen, that's it's okay, that maybe, just maybe, Jackson is here for me. As I take Xavier's outstretched hand, I'm unsure of which side of the coin I want to be on. If it isn't real, I can chalk this up to some freak coincidence, some terrible cold, but if it is…Jackson Sunday will be a part of my life. I send a prayer into the atmosphere as we walk through the door. I want him to be real, so real it hurts.