Chapter Fourteen: People Watching
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Target girl, who has now been established as Xavier Cassidy's cousin, tilts her head to the side. Confusion fills her blue eyes as wisps of blonde hair fall from her bun.
"Oh!" My social skills seem to kick back into action, and I extend my hand out towards her. "I'm Max."
"Harper." She smiles, and tentatively gives my hand a quick shake.
"So just so we're clear." I retract my hand and use it to tuck away a strand of hair that fell from my braid. "That guy over there is your cousin?"
"Yes." Her gaze falls behind me again, and her eyebrows furrow before she returns her attention back over to me. "Do you want me to get him?" She moves her hand up with the intention of waving, but I fling my upper body forward.
"No!"
Her eyes widen a little in surprise, and I lean back into my own personal space.
"Sorry—" My nervous laughter comes to save the day, but gets cut short when I notice more shoppers have shuffled into the area. Luckily, none of them seem to have noticed my outburst, or they're at least not letting on that they did. "Um . . ." I gulp when I remember that another one of those shoppers is the Cassidy boy still leering behind the clothing rack a few feet behind me. My hands clench into fists at my sides, but I push the thought away by pressing by body against the counter. "So, do you like working here?"
The confusion dances in Harper's eyes again, so I continue.
"I'm just wondering because part of me wants a job, yet the other part of me is too lazy."
Harper laughs at the latter part of my statement before she swipes up the blouse she neglected in my presence and begins shoving it on a hanger. "I've been working here for a little over six months now, so yeah, I guess you can say I like it."
"Does the polo get annoying, though?" The curve of my lips gives my amusement away.
Her blue eyes sparkle back at me. "It doesn't look like it, but it's actually quite comfortable. The only downside is . . ." She leans forward and cups a hand over the side of her mouth. "It isn't the most flattering and you wouldn't believe how many cute guys actually ask for help."
I crinkle my nose. "I do actually believe that."
We trade smiles for another second before I take a step away from the counter.
"All right, well, I'll let you get back to it. It was nice meeting you."
"You too," she chirps before turning to hang the blouse on the rack behind her.
I turn around, and focus on my strides instead of the way Xavier Cassidy straightens himself out in my peripheral vision.
"Max?" Xavier's voice falls behind me, and only accelerates my pace as I begin speed walking towards the exit that leads into the mall. "Max!" he tries again, but I focus on the beat in my chest. The echo of it circles around me, and falls in sync with my footsteps.
I make a swift right turn into an aisle. I glide past carts and people, but I don't get my hopes up. I have no doubt that Xavier's long strides aren't too far behind. My pace quickens when I reach the clearing by the automatic doors. I ignore the strain in my legs. I ignore the burn in lungs. And I will myself to ignore the sting in my eyes.
I take two steps outside the automatic doors before a hand grabs onto my upper arm and propels me back around.
"Whoa, whoa—" Xavier leans down and tries to meet my gaze. "What's going on?"
I yank my arm back as if he burned me. He recoils the second he sees the fire in my eyes.
"You're listening?" I don't even recognize the laugh that falls past my lips. "I can't believe I fell for that crap!"
"I don't—" Xavier starts, but he's the one that lit the match, and now every inch of me is burning.
"Do you want to know why I sit alone?" I take a step forward. "I have one friend—one friend!" I hold up the number with my finger before dropping it back down to a fist at my side. "And I love her to death, but I know when I'm not in her sight, I'm not on her mind. And that's okay! I was okay." I curse the way my voice cracks like a fly away ember, but relish in the way Xavier practically flinches away from it all the same. "Then you came along."
Xavier flinches again. He keeps his gaze locked on our shoes, so I take another step forward.
"And I may not use my voice—I may not speak my mind as much as I should, but that is because I already know who I am! I don't need to prove it!" I take another step, and that's all it takes for Xavier's eyes to dart back over to mine. I crane my neck, and the sting in my eyes begins to turn to water, but I don't allow myself to cower away. Instead, I make venom drip into my every word. "And I most certainly don't use my so called "voice" to lie to someone I'm still getting to know."
My exit from the space in front of him would be triumphant if my hands weren't shaking. If my legs weren't wobbling. And if the tears I tried so hard to keep at bay begin to leak from my eyes. I hate crying in public.
I hate confrontations.
"You're right," Xavier's voice echoes behind me, and I hate how my legs stop moving forward.
I hear each clomp of his footsteps as he jogs through the distance I put between us, and I hastily wipe at my tears. Xavier's hand coils around my upper arm, and this time he's gentle as he propels me back around to face him.
"You're right." He sighs in defeat as his hand falls back down to his side.
I keep my gaze on the ground as I swipe at my cheeks again. I have no doubt they are splashed with the same red hue ringing my eyes. We stand there in the middle of the mall for a few more seconds before Xavier slides his converse covered foot forward.
"How about I make it up to you?" He snaps his fingers. "Smoothies."
My eyes dart up before I can help it, and Xavier takes the action as an olive branch, even going as far as flashing me with a smile.
"On me." He smooths a hand down his chest before taking a step back. "Come' on." He waves he hand before beginning to walk in the direction of the food court. When I still don't follow, he whips back around, and wiggles his eyebrows. "You know you want one."
A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it at the high-pitched way he sings the words, and my feet finally begin shuffling in his direction only because he mentioned "smoothies" and "on me," and I can't possibly pass that up.
****
"Okay, I don't get it," Xavier says, and the slight bubble coating his words stems from the mango smoothie in his hand. The bright orange liquid sloshes around as he continues to bring it up, and down from his lips. "What are we looking at?"
"Ssh," I almost spit out my own sip of the strawberry banana smoothie in my hand, but keep my gaze locked on the store entrance across from the us.
Xavier leans down towards me in attempt to follow my gaze, but he only swallows down another gulp of his smoothie before leaning back into his own space on the mahogany bench. People continue to walk by us with either kids, shopping bags, or both dangling from their arms. A few glances pass in our direction, but they are completely casual. Spurts of acknowledgement before the people are back to striding to their desired destinations.
"My sister and I used to do this thing all the time," I finally say. "I don't know about her, but I refer to it as people watching." I turn just in time to catch the jump of Xavier's eyebrows.
"Okay, stalker."
"It's not like that," I quickly defend, but as I continue to stare down a kid riding in a stroller, I reluctantly nod. "Okay, maybe it's a little bit like that." Xavier snickers beside me, and I decide to I take another sip of my smoothie before continuing, "when my mom used to go into stores that my sister and I didn't want to go into, we'd just find a bench and wait for her, but when that got boring we'd watch the people that'd walk by."
"People watching." Xavier nods as if he finally makes the connection.
"Yes, but we weren't watching to be creepy, or judgmental. We would actually try to guess, or make up, what they're doing. It's just a game, really." I shrug, and almost poke myself in the face with my straw.
"All right, well . . . what about that guy?"
I glance over at Xavier and he lifts his smoothie up gesturing to the guy walking a few feet away from the bench we're sitting on. The guy seems to be in his late twenties, or early thirties, and his lips are moving just as rapidly as his legs as he talks on the phone.
"He looks like he's in a hurry," I state the obvious.
"Yeah, maybe it's a work issue," Xavier plays along.
"Yeah, or maybe . . ." I trail off as the guy passes right in front of me. He runs a hand over his face as a distressed sentence about time running out falls past his lips. "Or maybe it's his six-month anniversary with his girlfriend and he forgot to get her a present."
Xavier sends me an approving glance, and I shrug like the veteran people watcher I am as I take another sip of my smoothie. A few seconds later the same guy comes pacing back in front of us, this time headed in the opposite direction.
Xavier leans over, inclining his head down towards my ear. "No, mom, she doesn't like flowers. No, I already bought her earrings last year."
A snort escapes me, and I quickly bring a hand up to muffle it even though the guys already long gone.
"Oh, oh!" Xavier excitedly chirps before leaning down again, just as a couple walks by.
The woman is pushing a double stroller with one beet red, hysterical kid inside and the other kid hanging on her hip, while her husband walks beside her with his eyes glued to his phone screen.
"Richard, you never help with the kids," Xavier whispers in a stern, high pitched voice.
The kid in the scroller emits another shriek, and the husband rolls his eyes.
"Give me a break, woman." I mockingly grumble back.
Xavier and I lightly chuckle at the fake scenario, and the crying from the kid fades away as the couple continues walking. I take another long drink of my smoothie, but practically choke it down when Xavier nudges my side. He gestures to a group of young girls walking past us. They can't be older than ten, but they're emitting twenty-year-old vibes.
"Oh my god, Suzie," Xavier mocks in another girl voice I never would've imagine fall out of his mouth. "My mom said that I'm on my phone way too much, so I told her that that's why I deserve to get the new iPhone, but she just won't listen."
A cackle like laugh escapes me, and I'm quickly cupping a hand over my mouth when the girls send glares in my direction. Although part of me wants to stick my tongue out at them, I'm afraid they'd come over and beat me with the shopping bags in their arms.
"Oh, oh!" Now I'm the one chirping, and I even throw a light slap to Xavier's bicep to get him to notice the group of middle school aged guys walking by. "Yeah, man," I use my best guy voice by drenching it with my most gangster-like undertone. "It's actually really comfortable to wear your pants below your ass crack—provides great ventilation. You know what I'm saying?" I laugh at my own hand gestures before my eyes dart up to Xavier's.
The shock is etched into every crevice of his face, and the embarrassment hits me like a train, but before I can take my words back, Xavier tilts his head up towards the ceiling, and laughs. He laughs so hard that he ends up clutching onto his stomach, and there's no sound coming out of his mouth. If it wasn't for his shaking shoulders I would've thought he's having a seizure, and some people that walk by throw us wide eyes as if that's actually the case. Luckily, no one dials 911, but I think I might if he's chuckles never die down.
"Man." Xavier sighs before straightening out his posture. "You really are something, just Max."
I give him a sheepish smile as I hold up the small space between my thumb and pointer finger up. "I guess the game is a little judgmental."
"You think?" The sarcasm drips from Xavier's words, but he flashes me with his smile, so I know he's not at all judging me for it.
My ankles sway from side to side in their crossed position in front of me. The minutes pass in a comfortable silence as the regular mall chaos continues around us.
"I have a question."
"Mm." I hum as I continue to bite down on my smoothie straw.
"Going back to what you said the other day, it seems, in general, when it comes to guys, you're really just looking for a friend."
I tilt my head from side to side, weighing his words, before swallowing down another sip of my smoothie. "Yeah, I guess."
"But you already have one."
"I know." I wave my smoothie around ready to ramble away the harsh way I rambled at him before. "I have my mom, my sister, and—"
"Me."
My lips clamp shut, and for a second I feel as frozen as the fruit that was used to make our smoothies. It's only when the silence remains that I finally turn my head to decide if I heard right. Xavier continues to stare back at me. There's no hidden joke hidden behind his dark eyes—no amusement. Just complete earnest in every little stroke of brown.
The pink liquid in my plastic smoothie cup sloshes around as I reach out, and tap my cup against his. "Thank you."
"You don't understand!"
I whip my head around only to find the distressed guy is pacing back in front of us once more.
"Mother, there is no way in hell that I can afford a Jacuzzi! Just because you want one doesn't mean that every girl wants one!"
I slowly turn my head back over Xavier. We trade nervous smiles, and wide eyes before we both fall forward in laughter.
"You were right," Xavier wheezes in between chuckles with a hand on his chest.
"We were right," I correct him amid my silent laughter.
Xavier reaches his shaking arm out, and holds his smoothie outstretched in the space between us. I'm still laughing as I clink my smoothie against his in another cheers.