Becoming The Number One Complication Of Xavier Hayes

Gwendolyn The whistle blows, signalling the end of the game, and a bunch of cheerleaders rush into the rink, hugging the players. Their school colors, green and yellow, wave excitedly in the air. I can see him from where I sit. He has just taken off his helmet, and he is laughing so hard. “Come on,” my best friend says hurriedly, pulling me along with her into the bleachers. “This is your chance to tell him.” “Noooo,” I whine as my feet try to keep up with her. “Garret is there. What if he hears me?” “I will distract your brother,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “You go ahead and talk to Xavier Hayes. Who knows? By the end of the day, you just might be his girlfriend.” It is a silly plan, and I know it. For one, Xavier Hayes is my brother’s best friend. And secondly, he is in his last year in college. He isn’t going to want to date a weeny student in junior school. Yet, my pulse races excitedly as I head towards him in the middle of the ice rink. “Xavier,” I cheer, running to him. When his eyes fall on me, he ignores everyone else trying to congratulate him and runs over to me, picking me up and twirling me in the air. When he does things like this, I get so certain that he feels something for me too. I laugh so loud, squealing excitedly until he drops me on my feet. “Did you see?” he asks with so much happiness in his eyes. “Yes,” I answer, dancing on my feet. “You were so great on the rink. And I heard about the possible drafting into the NHL. That is so amazing.” “Thank you,” he muses, hugging me again. “There is a party celebrating our last game tonight. Want to come along?” My eyes dart towards my brother, Garret, who is in an animated conversation with someone else. My best friend is standing by his side, waiting. She gives me a thumbs-up. Xavier catches my eye. “Don’t worry about Garret. He will be too busy stuffing his tongue down the throat of his new girlfriend to care that you are there,” Xavier says. “And I will drive you home after the party.” There is no way I am going to say no to spending the entire night with the guy I have been crushing on since I had the ability to understand the meaning of that word. So, I nod eagerly, my pigtails bobbing along with me. I manage to get to the party after telling my parents that I am going to be spending the night at my best friend’s house. The loud music hits me when I step into the frat house. Pressing my hands against my ears, I crane my neck, trying to locate Xavier. And Garret, so that I can avoid him. “Hey, pretty,” someone chirps, stopping by my side. He has a red cup in one hand. “Wanna dance?” “No.” Xavier appears out of nowhere. He looks mad. “She’s not dancing. Come on, Gwendolyn.” He takes my hand in his, and I have to stop myself from dying right on the spot. His hands are so huge and warm, and it makes my heart race so hard that I am certain he can hear it. Xavier doesn’t let go until we arrive at a room upstairs. As he fiddles with the handle, one hand still holding on to me, I swallow. “Xavier, don’t you think we are …” I lick my lips and take a deep breath. “Don’t you think we are going too fast?” He stops, his hand still on the handle. A frown settles on his face. “Going too fast?” I chuckle nervously, clinging to the strap of my purse. “I … the note I left in your bag. We were supposed to talk about it…before…” His hands aren’t on me anymore. “What note?” Shit. He didn’t find it. Okay. Okay. Breathe. I can still do this. “Wait,” he murmurs, narrowing his gaze. “Did you think I was taking you in to do something with you?” I bite my bottom lip. “No. No. I just thought…” “s**t,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Gwendolyn, you are a kid. How did that even occur to you?” I never get the words out of my throat because the door opens from the inside, and a stunning girl with endless legs walks out, wrapping her arms around Xavier. “Hey, baby,” she purrs, then stops when she notices me. “You must be Gwendolyn, Garret’s baby sister.” “I…” “Xavier was telling me about how I have to babysit you throughout the party. But I don’t mind. Anyone he loves, I love.” She turns back to Xavier. “Go have fun, baby. I’ll be here when you get back.” Xavier doesn’t even look at me before heading back down the stairs. He looks even more pissed than he did earlier. I did that. Oh my God. I’m such a fool. “I have to leave,” I murmur, red patches burning through my cheeks. “Not so fast, Gwen.” His girlfriend angles her head. “I found that note you left in Xavier’s bag. We should talk about that, don’t you think? I don’t want you to embarrass your brother any further.” *** My eyes flutter open, coming face-to-face with an air hostess. She has perfect blonde hair, put in a sleek bun, and blue eyes that remind me of the ocean. It looks like she’s been talking to me. “What?” I murmur, slightly embarrassed. “I was asking if you were having a rough day.” Even her voice sounds really soft. “But if you don’t want to be disturbed…” “Oh,” I try a chuckle. “Thank you. I’m…” “I get it. It’s the holidays, isn’t it?” she says sweetly. “You probably don’t want to go home. You have things planned out with your friends, and it's Oxford, yeah?” I nod. “That means there is a party right on the grounds of one of the colleges. The only time in the year you are allowed to throw a party there.” “You went to Oxford?” Because she definitely doesn’t look like she’s still in college. “No,” she laughs. “I just have a strong tie with the school.” “Oh.” "Well," she gets on her feet. My eyes catch her name on the tag on her chest. Khloe. "I can't help you with going back home. But what I can help with is how you feel. So, a glass of champagne?" “Please,” I breathe. “Okay, then,” Khloe giggles. “One glass of champagne coming right up.” But Khloe never returns. Not for the eleven hours it takes us to land in San Diego. I am used to disappointments, so it doesn’t bother me as I alight the plane, holding on to the strap of my tote and making a mental note to order a ride. “Oxford girl!” Someone calls me, waving frantically from behind. I stop for a while, waiting as the lithe figure walks over to me briskly. I make out her features the closer she gets. Khloe. "Hey," she breathes, standing in front of me. The uniform has been discarded, replaced by a stunning brown coat and a black unitard, paired with a pair of brown boots. With her wavy blonde hair, she looks like she just walked right out of a fashion magazine. And standing beside her, I probably look like a sack of potatoes in my old denim and jacket with a coffee stain on the sleeves. “I’m sorry about the champagne,” Khloe says, her eyes searching my face. “I was going to get it, but something pretty important came up.” “It’s fine, Khloe. I can call you Khloe, right?” “Yeah,” she laughs. “Anyway, I’m so sorry about it. But I still want to get you that champagne. There is a spot right outside the airport. Do you want to have dinner with me? We can wait for our rides there.” I don’t think twice about it. It is pretty late in San Diego, but I will take any extra time I have to put off going home. "Yes, I'd love to have dinner with you. I am starving." “Great, then.” Khloe hooks her arm around mine like we have been friends for ages. “You can just give me your flight number. I’ll have someone get your luggage over to the diner.” Is that one of the perks of being an air hostess? The wind picks up as we hurry across the grounds, and we have to start running in the middle of our short journey. I laugh when we reach the entrance to the diner, watching as Khloe wipes off the invisible leftovers of the wind on her coat. “Stop laughing,” she cries, her eyes crinkling in humor. “I hate the wind and the rain. In fact, I hate the cold.” “Yet, you live in San Diego,” I murmur, pushing the door open and waiting for her to step in before following suit. The warmth from the diner hit immediately, along with the smell of chicken and fresh pastries. I heave a sigh of relief, taking in the scent. But my stomach had to embarrass me by growling angrily. Khloe laughs, pulling me with her. “Come on. Let’s find a seat.” “Don’t you have to have a reservation here or something?” I ask as I follow her further into the space. “Erm… I don't know. I just have never reserved a table here before. I somehow always manage to find one. Here. Let's sit at that one." She points to a table by the window. "That way we can watch the rain when it starts." “I thought you hated the rain.” She shrugs. “You look like you enjoy it.” As Khloe makes to sit, I notice it. The dainty jewel on her wrist with the charm bearing the letters X.H.