The space between us

Chapter two;Off limits

Stacy’s Pov David cornered me in the kitchen the next morning. Xavier was gone already. Note on the counter: Early shift. Don’t wait up.

“Hey,” David said, closing his laptop. “We need to talk about Xavier.”

I poured cereal, stalling. “What about him?”

David rubbed the back of his neck. The way he did before a hard conversation. “He’s staying the summer. But Stacy… you’re not twelve anymore.”

I froze, spoon halfway to my mouth. “And?”

“And Xavier’s twenty. He’s got… stuff. You get that, right?”

I knew.David had been drilling it into me since I was fourteen and Xavier first showed up with his busted knuckles and crooked smile. My friend. Not your crush.

“I get it,” I mumbled.

David sighed. “Just keep it chill. He’s not— you know. For you.”

The words landed like a rule. Off limits. Carved in stone.

I found Xavier that afternoon in the backyard. He was under the oak tree, sketchbook balanced on his knees, shirt clinging to him from the heat.

He didn’t look up. “If you’re here to tell me to leave, David already did.”

I dropped onto the grass beside him. “I’m not.”

He finally glanced at me. Really looked. “You sure? Because last night you looked at me like—”

“Like what?” My heart kicked.

He shut his notebook. “Like you didn’t know me.”

I swallowed. “Maybe I don’t. Not anymore.”

Xavier was quiet. Then: “You’re right. You don’t.”

The space between us felt huge. And dangerous.

“Do you remember what I said yesterday?” he asked, sudden.”

My breath caught. 4PM. Our time.

“David said—”

“David’s ’s not here.” Xavier’s jaw ticked. “You want to learn or not, Stacy?”

I wanted. God, I wanted.

“Okay.”

4:03PM. Driveway.

Sun baked the gravel.Xavier slid into the passenger seat and tossed me the keys.

“Rule one,” he said. “Clutch is your new best friend.”

I gripped the wheel. He smelled like soap and gasoline. I was hyper-aware of every inch between us.

I stalled. Twice.

Xavier didn’t laugh. Just said, “Again.”

On the third try, the car rolled forward. Smooth.

“Good,” he said. His voice was lower than usual. “Better.”

His hand hovered over mine on the gearshift. Didn’t touch. But I felt it.

“Don’t think,” he said. “Just feel it.”

I was feeling everything. The heat. His leg an inch from mine. The way his eyes tracked my mouth when I bit my lip.

“Stacy” he said, soft.

The front door slammed. David’s, home early.

Xavier pulled back like he’d been shocked.

“Lesson’s over,” he said, climbing out.

Dinner was tense. David kept looking between us.

Xavier barely ate. Pushed around his plate and left early. “Work,” he mumbled.

I found him later in David ’s old room. Door open. Headphones in. Sketching like the world was ending.

He looked up when I leaned against the frame. Yanked an earbud out.

“Why are you here this summer?” I asked before I lost nerve.

His pencil stilled. “I needed… out.”

“Out of where?”

Xavier’s eyes went dark. “Home. My dad.”

I knew pieces. The drinking. The fists. The reason Xavier’s knuckles were always scarred.

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Yeah.” He looked away. “So I’m here. Trying not to screw up his life too.”

“Whose life?”

He met my eyes. “David’s. Yours.”

The air went thick.

“Stacy,” he said, standing. “You gotta stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m not off limits.”

He walked past me. Shoulder brushing mine. On purpose.

And left me.