The space between us

Chapter 12;confrontation

_Xavier’s POV_

*3:05PM. School gate. After final bell.*

I’m not supposed to be here.

Dropped out years back. “Personal reasons” on the paperwork. Translation: I stopped showing up.

But I came anyway today. Waited across the street behind the bus shelter. Red bandana on my wrist, same as hers.I happened to see it on sale at a display shop.Watched kids flood out, backpacks, laughter, freedom.

I was watching for her.

Didn’t see her.

I did see him.

The weird dumb guy.Baseball bag, untied laces.Walking slow, like he’s not in a hurry to leave.

Because he’s going back to see her.

That’s what she told him.

My fists clench.

He cuts across the parking lot toward the side gate. Fewer people there. Quieter.

That’s where I step out.

He stops short. Eyes narrow. “You.”

“You’re not a student here,” he says. Not a question. He notices things. Of course he does.

“Neither are you, right now,” I say. Voice flat. “You’re loitering.”

He shifts his bag. Doesn’t look scared. Just… assessing. “You followed me.”

“I followed Stacy yesterday,” I correct. “I stayed for you.”

I couldn’t get past the front office without an ID. But the side gate? Chain link, bent at the bottom. I know it well. I used it when I still had classes here.

He glances at the gate, then back at me. “Okay. So what? You gonna lecture me on school property you’re trespassing on?”

“It’s not about school,” I say. Step closer. We’re same height. “It’s about Stacy.”

His jaw ticks. The easy grin is gone. “Yeah. Figured.”

“You don’t know her,” I say. Same line as before, but it sounds different outside the walls. More hollow.

“I know she sat next to me for over an hour but and didn’t ask me to leave,” he says. “I know she saved a granola bar she wasn’t supposed to have. I know she wrote my disaster time on her hand and kept it.”

He steps closer too. “You know her history. I know her present. Which one do you think she needs more right now?”

That one lands. Because I’ve been keeping her in the past for years. Protecting the girl who broke. Not the girl who’s trying to laugh again.

“She breaks,” I say. Quieter now. “You didn’t see her after—”

“Don’t,” he cuts in. Same word as before, but softer. “Don’t use what happened to her as a wall between her and everyone else. She’s not your secret to keep.And you know what stop being so possessive.She’s a person.”

I laugh, but it comes out wrong. Bitter. “You think sitting with her and playing dot makes you safe for her?”

“No,” he says. “I think asking her if I can sit makes me safer than deciding for her. I think not asking about the stopwatch makes me safer than you keeping her away from anything loud.” He adjusts his bag. “You like her. I get it. But love isn’t guarding the gate. Love is holding it open and letting her decide if she walks through.And she will with me.”

Security golf cart rolls past the main gate. Headlights sweep.

He sees it. I see it.

“Stay away from her,” I say. But this time it doesn’t sound like a threat. It sounds like I’m begging.

He shakes his head. “Can’t. She said tomorrow.And she’s mine,I’ll pass her to you when I’m done.And I’m not the kind of guy who breaks bet over fear.”

He walks past me toward the bent part of the gate. Slips through easy.

I wanted to punch him butI don’t follow. Can’t. Security’s turning now.

I stand there on the outside. Red bandana tight on my wrist.

He turns back once. “If you actually want to protect her,stranger…..Let me have her.”

Then he’s gone. Disappears into the crowd on the other side.

I’m left at the gate. Trespassing. Watching a door I can’t walk through