Chapter 4: Two-2

Leo. Tori's latest endeavor. He's the lead singer of a band called 'Nova Theorem.' He chain smokes, writes poetry, and has dreadlocks that could be rad- if he took care of them, but he doesn't. Gross. Sweet. Gross. In that order. "I have no germs," I say, "Just a bad case of Xavier." I consider telling Tori about Jax and how Xavier set up and nearly executed such a formidable prank, but not is not the time. Her hungover brain would have to work too hard to process it anyway. My own hungover brain can hardly wrap itself around the idea. I point to the doorway. "I'm going to go if you don't need me." "I need sleep and two painkillers." She reaches into the bag that is still slung around her shoulder for a pill bottle which she promptly divests of two tiny white spheres, places them into her mouth and swallows without water. She's a pro at being hungover. Tori is the ultimate party girl, here on her father's dime. Her sole mission is to do everything in college that she didn't do in high school. An educated guess on my part tells me that doesn't leave much, except for maybe Leo. Xavier doesn't like her. He thinks she makes the rest of us who have to actually work our way through college look bad. I can appreciate his thoughts but aside from being a total slob and wearing liters of offensive perfume, Tori doesn't bother me any. I gather my stuff and head to the door, turning to face her, or at least face the backside of her body. "Tori?" "Lola?" "Do you know a guy named Jackson Sunday?" Why am I asking? I shouldn't be asking. I shouldn't be interested. Guy is stark raving mad, Lola. Get a grip. "Negative. Oh, wait. Is that the guy on RC's new TV show? The one about werewolves, or is it vampires?" "What? No. I think he goes here. He's not like a celebrity or anything. Just a regular guy." "Oh," she says. "Then still no." As I walk through campus I wrestle with the idea of giving Xavier an earful about Jax's visit. There is no doubt in my mind he is bursting at the seams with pride, thinking he's pulled off the most epic of pranks. If I tell him I don't appreciate his early morning antics, I may as well pour fuel on an already burning fire, but if I downplay the entire event-pretend it never happened-he'll always wonder. The unknown is far more diabolical, and I have to bite my lip to stop the smirk when I get to the Human Bean, the most popular coffee shop in a three mile radius. It's where all the hipsters go. I am a hipster by association only. My association, Xavier, is standing in line with his hands buried in his pockets, a pair of reflective aviators covering his eyes. Hangover spectacles. A tell-tale sign he's not feeling his best. I walk up beside him. "Hey." He looks down and smiles wide. "I was wondering when you'd show up." Of course he was so he could rub it in my face. Jokes on you, X. He yawns, and pulls a hand from his pocket just to tug on my braid. "Mornin' Mouse." "Hardly a good morning. My head is pounding. When did you leave last night?" He drops my hair and shrugs. "I dunno. Right around the time you started singing ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall." "You lie. Like a rug." "God's honest truth. Don't worry though, you stopped when the dorm next door started banging on the wall." "You're so full of it." "Swear to God. Ask them." Oh my God. He's being serious. "Why would you let me do that?" "Why not? You were having a good time. It was your birthday. Screw what anyone thinks of you. Coffee?" He grins. It's not fair. Xavier flashes his deadly dimples and all is forgotten. When he pairs that Cheshire Cat smile with bribes of coffee, I fold faster than a lawn chair. I nod. "Listen," X says. "I've been thinking. You're twenty-one now." "More than halfway to forty." "Gross. Anyway, you need to get out more." "I get out just fine Mom, thanks." "Going to the library and the coffee shop doesn't count, Mouse." "I have to study," I say. "I'm here on a scholarship." "I know kid genius. That doesn't mean your entire life has to be meticulously scheduled and planned out." "It isn't." "Is too." "Is not." "Lola, you have lists about making lists." "Do not." "Do too." X shuffles forward as the line inches ahead. "Anyway, there's this party tonight." I stop him. "No." "You didn't even let me finish." "That's because I know what you're going to say." He says it anyway. "Come with me." I shake my head. "Please." "It's not a good idea." "You're right. It's a great idea. You have to. It'll be a blast. I promise." Ugh. One might think after being friends with the guy for a lifetime, I'd have developed some kind of immunity to his charms but it manages to elude me. It's the dimples. I know it. I'll try the honest approach and hope he'll have some sympathy for my situation. "X. I don't fit in. You know that." "That's because you're afraid to let people know you and that's a damned shame, Lola. It really is. Those books of yours will never love you back, you know." His words, although true, are like pin pricks on my skin. "Come with me. I won't leave your side. You have my word if you're not having a good time, we leave. No questions asked." "Why do you want me to go?" "Because as your best friend it's my duty to experience life with you." "Do you swear we can leave?" Xavier holds his hand up, palm forward. "I swear." I reach into his back pocket and retrieve the little black book I know is there. Xavier has a cell phone with contacts like everybody else on planet earth, but he insists on carrying this thing. Thinks it makes him retro badass or something. I place it on my palm and hold it out to him. "Swear on it." He looks at me incredulously. "What?" "Swear on the black book that when, not if, when I tell you I'm not having a good time and I want to go home, that you'll take me." "You want me to swear on my black book?" "Few things are as important to you. Swear it, Xavier Morgan. Swear it or I don't go." He rolls his eyes and sets his hand atop the book. "I swear Mouse, when you want to leave, say the word. No questions asked. I'll even buy you pizza or something on the way home." I move the book away and place it back into his pocket. "Fine. I'll go." Xavier's smile morphs from one of amusement to a genuinely happy grin. "Perfect." "Not even close," I mutter. I don't want to go but it's important to Xavier so by association, it's important to me. "What?" I force a smile back. "I said I can't wait to go." The line has moved. Xavier strides to the front and orders two coffees. Black for him, one cream for me. He hands it to me, kisses my check and says, "have a good day." "Yeah," I say, "you too." As Xavier heads to his first class of the morning, it's easy to forgive the stunt with Jackson Sunday.