23 • Meeting

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I wait for Xavier at the park later that night, sitting on the bench we'd last talked at. The thin jacket I'm wearing doesn't block the cold wind from chilling me to the bone. It's early fall now, so I know that it's only going to get cooler from here.


I think about the letters Mom has been keeping under her mattress, and the lovely message that had been written across my wall in what seems to be blood. The test of the medium used to write the messages should come back in the next few days, according to Callaway, but by then, I don't think it will matter. I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm running out of time, considering my stalker is getting bolder and bolder by the day. Soon, he'll probably come knocking on the front door, asking to see me.


As for the letters, I don't know what to think anymore. The person who wrote the letters labelled himself 'your lover', and stated in the notes that Mom betrayed him in some way. For some reason, I almost believe that it isn't me who's being stalked, but Mom. It would make more sense than a random person suddenly becoming obsessed with me; but that I'm getting all the texts and warnings because he's trying to unhinge Mom by going after me. In my opinion, it's working too.


I realize it's only a stupid thought, but right now, analyzing all of the evidence seems to be everything I can do. It keeps me from crumbling for the time being.


As I bow my head, I feel a slight tap on my shoulder. Startled, I whip my head to the side while bringing a hand up to shield myself. My cheeks warm when I realize it's only Xavier, who looks as startled as I am.


"Sorry," I say quickly, dropping my defensive stance. I swallow slowly when he smiles. It creates dimples across his cheeks, which makes me want to melt into a puddle like the Wicked Witch of the West.


Stop it Mel, I think to myself.


I can't let myself get attached like this. It's not good for either of us. By hanging out with Xavier, I'm putting him in immediate danger. To be honest, I don't know exactly why I want to talk with him. In the end, I know that one of us is going to take the fall for it, and it probably will be me, or at least, I hope it'll be me.


"It's not a problem," he says, sliding onto the bench with me. I think about his last words, the ones he said on this exact bench only a couple nights ago. They replay in my head over and over and I try to figure out how to tell him about earlier today.


The smile drops off of Xavier's face. He touches my shoulder, and I almost feel electrical currents erupting from his fingertips. "What happened this morning? I was worried about you."


I look away from Xavier, from his heartbreaking gaze. "I don't want to be the one responsible if something happens to you, and if I tell you, I might be," I murmur, my voice cracking.


"Skylar," he says quietly. I turn, waiting for him to continue. He tentatively reaches over to brush the stray hairs from my face. My breath catches in my throat as his fingers brush over my cheek. He looks even more worried now than before. "Ever since I met you, there's been something about you that I can't put my finger on. I can tell you're scared, and it's starting to scare me. I don't care if it puts me in danger, I just want to help you. Please," he leans a little closer, "let me help you."

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