*.*.*.*.*.*

"You do not do that to your own daughter!" I hiss into the phone, attempting to stifle the sound even though I know I'm way out of Xavier's hearing range. "You called him to babysit me? Seriously, dad?"

"Honey, I was suddenly told I can't leave office until I take care of these things and I thought you should have a sensible adult with you till I come back," dad says softly.

I scowl, narrowing my eyes at my father who can't possibly see me right now.

"Daddy, how old am I?" I ask.

"Seventeen," he answers correctly.

"You know how old Xavier is?" I pause for dramatic effect. "Seventeen!" I nearly scream into the phone.

Dad chuckles.

"Well, he's smarter and more sensible," he teases.

I growl. "I'm his tutor," I snap.

Dad bursts out laughing.

"Stop laughing," I order.

He listens, although I can still hear the smile in his tone. "I thought you'd be happy spending time with him."

"I am, just not ... like this," I frown, confusing myself.

How the hell do I end up confusing myself?

"Why can't you be like a normal dad and hate the boy I could possibly like?" I ask instead. "That's what dads are supposed to do, not ... ask their daughter's crush to babysit her."

"I would hate him if he was a bad boy," dad points out.

"He's my school's bad boy," I remind him.

"Aw, come on, Haley, we both know he's nothing like he looks," dad says, and I can almost see him rolling his eyes.

"Okay, fine, but you could at least not call him to babysit me," I whine, stomping my foot childishly on the floor.

"I never mentioned the word 'babysit'," dad tells me.

"Well, he did."

"That's between you two then," he says casually.

My eyes widen; Xavier was teasing me, oh my Lord!

"Now go sit with him in the living room instead of hiding in the bathroom."

I freeze.

How the hell did he know I'm hiding in the bathroom?

"Do you have cameras in my bathroom?" I ask him, horrified.

He laughs. He freaking laughs!

"No, but I know you'd be hiding to talk to me about him," he says. "Now go make something to eat and give it to him too. The poor boy probably canceled work to be with you and you're here instead of making him lunch."

Is he my dad or Xavier's?

"I hate you," I hiss.

"Love you too, darling. Luckily my work is almost done so I'll be home in an hour."

He hangs up.

Wow. My crush is teasing me and my dad is on his side. Can my life be any crazier? What happened to all the cliché things out there? Why can't the bad boy be sullen and smirk-y and dad be domineering and hateful? What parallel universe am I in?

Taking a deep breath and telling my mind to stop ordering me to put on some makeup and practice some moves -- 'I'm alone with Xavier for the first time for God's sake' it yells -- I force myself to go back to the living room without changing. How creepy would it be if I put on some stilettos and some eyeliner now? He just saw me growling and running up the stairs two minutes ago.

Xavier -- being a total good boy -- is sitting silently on the couch, staring at the wall like it's a portal through which he can see the secrets of the universe. I glance at Xavier, then at the wall, then Xavier, then the wall, finally deciding both are equally blank.

Yup, I'm crushing on a wall.

"You want to eat something?" I ask, mentally slapping myself for such a dumb question.

'You could at least have used a sweeter tone, Haley!' my mind yells.

"Pasta or rice?" I add in a sweeter voice, which makes Xavier look at me with a frown on his face.

'Too sweet, too sweet!' my sirens play.

I should probably stop listening to my mind.

Flashing an awkward grin that makes me look like the Joker, I spin around before Xavier can label me psychotic. Thankfully, he doesn't run away, instead getting to the feet and following me towards the kitchen. He stops in the doorway, watching me.

Is it weird that I drop a few dishes, slip a couple of times, and almost burn the noodles I'm boiling? His eyes do crazy things to me, I admit.

"I heard Dray Carter asked you to prom," he says.

I nearly drop the bowl of boiled noodles.

Apparently, his voice does crazy things to me too.

"Uh ... yeah, he did." I play it cool, not looking at him.

"I heard you said no," he adds.

"Yup," I answer.

Silence follows.

'Good job, Haley, your one-word answers shut him up,' my mind yells.

Did I mention I hate it?

"Why?" he suddenly asks.

'Answer! Answer! Answer!' my mind chants.

Closing my eyes to strangle my overactive brain and lock it in a box, I open my eyes again and still play it cool.

Sadly, even my cool isn't cool.

"I'm not going to prom," I answer.

He doesn't answer, and I can sense another question coming towards me.

My senses must be broken because nothing comes.

"Who are you taking?" I ask him without turning around.

"I'm not going," he answers.

"Why not?" I stir the noodles that don't need to be stirred.

"The girl I wanted to take isn't going."

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!

Play it cool, Haley.

"Did you ask her? I ask.

"She said she isn't going so I don't need to."

Is it me? Can it be me? Oh my God!

"Well, maybe she isn't going because you didn't ask her yet," I point out, thanking heavens that I don't sound as freaked out as I really am.

"Are you saying she wants to go with me too?"

I don't turn around, afraid my clumsy crush-drunk existence will crumble and fall. Literally. So without seeing him and by only hearing his soft voice, I can only imagine the look on his face -- it must be blank.

"Maybe," I say.

"Why won't she ask me then?"

He's teasing me, I sure as hell know it.

"Well, she's very feminist, mind you -- I mean, might be very feminist," I answer smartly. "But every girl wants a boy to ask her to prom, and then ... you're kind of hard to approach emotionally so maybe she doesn't know how you actually feel and doesn't want to get rejected because she's very sensitive and doesn't think she can handle it if you say no when she asks you to --"

"You want me to ask you to prom?" he guesses.

I freeze. Now, I'm the wall, yay!

"Maybe," I say quickly, hoping he won't hear me.

"Will you say yes?"

Just ask, Xavier!

"Do I have to rent a limo and get that ... flower bracelet thingy?" he asks.

Thingy? Yes, we are a match made in heaven.

"It's called a corsage," I say, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. "And no, you don't have to rent a limo."

"Walking in heels might be hard," he guesses. "Your dress might get ruined."

My cheeks still hurt.

"So will your tux," I add.

"I thought the limo exemption applied to tuxedos too," he says.

I spin around, finally looking at him. He's standing in the kitchen doorway, smiling. Damn, that smile makes my knees wobble.

"No, I want a tux," I say.

"I don't have one."

"Rent it," I say.

He stares into my eyes. "If I show up without a tux, would you refuse to go with me?" he asks, probably hoping it would change my mind about the tuxedo.

"No," I say truthfully. "But I will force you to get into my dad's old tuxedo. Trust me, you do not want that punishment."

Xavier smile widens and he looks away, licking his lips.

"You want people to see us and think 'the good girl changed the bad boy'?" he guesses.

"Oh puh-lease!" I roll my eyes. "You're as bad as my cooking."

I place a bowl of delicious smelling noodles on the table in front of him and smile proudly. My cooking is not bad at all, to be honest, mostly because my dad taught me. He's the best cook in the entire universe, I swear.

"You're probably the only person in the world who thinks that," Xavier says, finally entering the kitchen and approaching the table.

"No way, my dad likes you more than I do," I blurt out, instantly regretting it. "I mean, not that I like you like you, but just that ... I like you ... as a friend ... not as a ... never mind."

I sit on one of the chairs, lower my eyes to my plate and pretend Xavier isn't here. When I do look up after he's taken a seat in front of me, Xavier cocks an eyebrow, a smile on his beautiful face. I notice that his previous bruises have healed, and his face, for once, looking completely unmarred.

"Stop staring at me," I say when his grey eyes stay fixed on me.

"Why?" he asks instead, not even blinking.

What is it with him doing things he knows will make me nervous?

"Because it's creepy," I lie. "And it makes me nervous," I add a truth.

"I like it when you're nervous," he admits.

My mind screams in happiness and my face turns red.

"Why?" I ask uncertainly.

"It makes me less nervous," Xavier teases.

I narrow my eyes at him. "That is the most selfish thing I have ever heard anyone say."

Still smiling, Xavier lowers his gaze to the food, picking up the bowl of noodles. He places some out into his plate and takes a bite. And yes, now I'm the one staring.

Wow, we're both creepy.

Awesome!

"Your cooking isn't bad," he comments.

"Exactly!" I exclaim excitedly.

Xavier snickers at my enthusiasm and I blush again, pursing my lips to keep myself from laughing in embarrassment. I still can't help but smile, mostly because Xavier is sitting in front of me, eating the food I made, liking it, and smiling. Also, we're going to prom together!

I'm definitely going to freak out when he's gone.

Dad arrives soon after and joins us for lunch. He talks to Xavier, and Xavier answers in his not-eloquent-but-simply-polite way that we have grown accustomed to. To my dismay though, as soon as we're done with lunch, Xavier asks for permission to leave.

I turn a pleading gaze towards dad, who glances my way before asking Xavier if he has something important to do.

"I don't get paid the days I skip," is his direct answer.

Neither dad nor I can force him to stay, knowing he might lose a day of his wages. With his characteristic smile and a gentle handshake, dad bids Xavier farewell, leaving me to walk him to the door.

"I'll see you Saturday at eight then?" he asks, turning to me at the door.

"Yeah," I beam, shifting on my feet. "Wait, what about our study sessions?" I ask in an afterthought.

Xavier shrugs nonchalantly. "We have finals this entire week, Haley. What are we supposed to study now? You should focus on your own subjects rather than helping me in mine."

I don't argue, even though I want to. I like helping Xavier in his studies, although I admit it does hamper my own pace. Getting into Stanford has been my dream all through high school, so maybe I really should focus on that now.

"See you Saturday," he repeats.

"See you," I reply. "In a tux."

Xavier smiles as he walks down the steps.

"Maybe."

"Definitely," I answer, smiling.

"We'll see," he teases as he walks away.

"I will see ... you in a tux."

He waves a hand.

That's when it hits me; maybe he doesn't have the money to buy a tux or even rent one. My mouth drops open when I realize how shallow and superficial I sound. So I do the first thing that comes to my mind.

"You don't have to, though," I practically yell after him.

Xavier stops and turns around, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Get a tuxedo, I mean," I add uncomfortably. "Your jacket is pretty cool, you know? I don't mind if you're --"

He looks like he's trying not to laugh, and heat creeps up my cheeks. I flash an awkward smile and Xavier shakes his head, turning away again.

I watch him leave, as always, smiling wide and just relishing in the joy of finally having Xavier open up. Not only is he more comfortable around me now, he asked me to prom, that too of his own free will.

This Saturday is going to be amazing!

I can hardly wait.

*.*.*.*.*.*