*.*.*.*.*.*

Haley

"I told dad not to come because you said you'd drop me back," I remind Odette.

It's past nine and my dad has a strict ten o'clock curfew, which I don't mind, to be honest. I like being indoors during the night as it prevents me from doing anything stupid under peer pressure.

"Why don't you call your dad and tell him you'll spend the night here?"

I don't answer. Odette, Nancy, Juniper, and Bella watch me as I pace anxiously around Odette's elaborate living room. I know they understand my point of view, but they have nothing to do that would help me.

"Do you want me to call mom?" Odette asks uncertainly.

I sigh. "No, it's okay. I'll just walk."

"It's raining out," Nancy reminds me. "Can't you just stay?"

I pull on my coat and stuff my feet into my sneakers, thinking about it.

"Uber?" Nancy suggests.

My mind considers it before rejecting the idea. I'd rather get shot than abducted by some creepy Uber driver.

"It's okay," I shake it off. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"Take the umbrella." Odette hurries after me as I make my way towards the exit. She hands me a big black umbrella.

"Hope I don't get hit by lightning with this on me," I joke, taking the umbrella.

"Keep your phone active and call me right away if something happens," Odette says to me with a nervous expression. "And Haley ... I'm sorry."

Yeah, you should be! 

"See you tomorrow at school."

With a fleeting hug, I exit into the dark and chilly night. Opening the umbrella, I hold it on top of me. It's huge, and I'm lucky that it protects me from the rain.

As I hurry onto the main street, I stiffen my shoulders and grip the umbrella tighter, my other hand closing instinctively around the phone in my pocket. My eyes dart around the empty surroundings as I walk at a brisk pace through the sheet of downpour, taking the shortcut from Odette's home to mine. The dirty neighborhood is deserted, and even the stray dogs seemed to have retired to a dry spot somewhere out of sight.

I keep my eyes on the sidewalk, trying to avoid the open gutters, scattered garbage bags and rotting food leftovers, looking up only when I reach the spot I recognize from earlier in the day. My gaze passes over the buildings I pass, a few windows lit and most of them dark. I can hear multiple conversations going on within those cracked walls, but most of the sound is drowned out by the roaring wind.

The familiar metal stairway comes into my view and I naturally look up towards the first landing. To my surprise, I see a black-clad figure sitting there, back against the door and huddled upon itself.

No, that can't be him ... can it?

Licking my freezing lower lip, I notice Xavier is still wearing the simple full-sleeved black shirt he was wearing at school. His raven hair falls on his face, which is bowed low over his hands resting limp in his lap. His legs are spread out straight in front of him and though his body is relatively dry -- being under the shade -- the ground around his feet is soaking wet.

Before I can figure out what I'm doing, I'm climbing the rickety staircase, my hand coming out of my pocket and gripping the wet railing to secure myself. Xavier's head snaps up when I'm halfway up the stairs, and I freeze, one foot on the upper stair, one lower. I open my mouth, but the widening of his eyes makes me nervous. He looks kind of scary, with one side of his face bruised and dark hair flopping over his forehead, ghostly grey eyes staring at me. I close and open my mouth again, before clearing my throat.

"Hey?" I say uncertainly, still unsure if what I'm seeing is real or if I'm simply imagining it.

He doesn't answer, his brow scrunching up in what I guess to be confusion.

"I ... I was just passing by," I explain myself anxiously. "Just ... going home. I live nearby. In the next neighborhood actually."

He continues to stare at me, his face revealing nothing. A part of me wants to tell him I saw him earlier but another part just wants him to say something. His silence is unnerving.

"Would you like to come along?" I ask him right away, and his eyebrows fly upwards. "I mean ... I thought you'd like to spend the night somewhere warm."

My attempt to seem less weird fails miserably, and the look Xavier is giving me makes me feel like a total creep. I'm sure he's wondering why I think it's a good idea to stop by random strangers and invite them home. Am I a serial killer or something? But he doesn't say it.

He doesn't say a word.

What is it with him conveying his thoughts through expressions and not words?

"Come on," I insist. "I would really like it if you came with me. I mean, you could leave as soon as it stops raining and then you can --"

"Why?" he finally asks and his husky voice nearly makes me jump backwards and tumble down the stairs. I have never heard him speak before. I don't remember him ever talking to me, and I can't even recall the last time he talked to someone in front of me.

I mean, yes, I heard him speaking to his dad a few hours ago but that doesn't count.

"Well, because ... because it's really cold out here," I answer lamely. "I'm trembling and ... I don't want to go home and leave you here to freeze to death. If my dad found out I did that, he would be so disappointed in me. I mean, you don't even have a jacket or ..."

Way to sound like a total creep, Haley.

Xavier's grey eyes -- almost mirrorlike in the darkness -- stare into my brown ones as if trying to read my thoughts.

"Look, I'm not a stalker or ... a murderer, or whatever," I say. "You can leave as soon as it's morning. Now hurry up. I want to get home before my curfew."

I glance at my watch again and see it's only fifteen minutes to ten. I look back at Xavier just as he rises slowly to his feet. I hear him groan under his breath, smooth his shirt, and cast one last look towards the door he had been resting against for what I assume to be a very long time. His gaze returns to me and I see uncertainly flicker across his face.

"Are you sure?" he asks in a low voice.

I nod quickly, not showing how surprised I am that he's actually agreeing. Maybe it's the cold or maybe the fact that he doesn't have any money, but he's actually complying. He seems to contemplate what to do before exhaling a deep breath through his nose and pull his already overstretched sleeves lower over his hands. I turn around halfway, slowly descending the staircase of death, while watching Xavier out of the corner of my eye. To my overwhelming satisfaction, he follows me down.

Rain splatters wildly against the umbrella I'm holding, and I look at Xavier.

"We can share," I suggest, holding the umbrella towards him. "If you hold it, I'm sure we can both fit under it. You know, because you're taller."

Xavier gives his head a shake and begins to walk beside me. I watch him uncomfortably.

"You're getting wet," I point out as water begins to drip down his fringe and he wipes it to the side and out of his eyes.

"I'm okay," he mumbles back and I sigh in defeat. Clearly, I'm not getting anywhere with him.

I walk briskly and Xavier follows a few feet behind me, keeping his place to my seven o'clock, or southwest as my dad would say. My gaze falls unintentionally to my watch as soon as I reach my house.

10:12.

I jog up the steep path towards the main door, knocking quickly. I would ring the bell but dad always says not to do that in bad weather. The door swings open instantly, and the face of my dad pokes out.

He's been waiting.

"You're late," he comments, his handsome face set into one of disapproval.

I roll my eyes. "Would you be happier if I stayed the night there? Odette's mom got stuck somewhere because it's raining!"

"Did you walk back alone? You should have called me," Dad says, looking into the darkness over my shoulder.

"Actually ... I bumped into someone on the way." I widen my eyes and look at him meaningfully.

Dad's eyebrows scrunch together and I step past him to enter the warmth of my house.

"Dad," I gesture behind me. "This is Xavier. We have classics together. And calculus too. He was out in the cold and I remembered we have a really nice, comfy couch which is empty for the night. Is it okay if he stays?"

Dad looks positively shocked, but he looks at the dark figure of Xavier, still outside the door. He looks back at me with a questioning look. I give him a nod and he sighs, probably deciding he'll ask me the details later.

"Come on in, Xavier." Dad says politely and I smile approvingly.

"He was in the rain so he's kind of wet," I warn dad about the carpet he loves so much.

"It's okay," he assures me, his mouth dropping open when he sees Xavier. "Whoa, you're ... soaked."

"I'll ... I'll just stay out ..." Xavier says apologetically and dad quickly changes his expression.

"No, no, come in." He gestures for Xavier to enter, who slushes in.

He stands gingerly on the doormat, not moving as if afraid of making everything wet.

"God, you're going to catch a cold," dad says, closing the door behind Xavier. "I'll get you some dry clothes."

"No, I ... I'm sorry, I sh--should go. I shouldn't even be here ..."

"Nonsense!" Dad exclaims, grabbing an extra pair of slippers off the shoe-stand by the door and putting them in front of Xavier. "You need to get out of those or you'll catch pneumonia. I'll get you something to change into. Haley, can you make some soup or some coffee or something?"

I nod as dad hurries down the living room and into his room on the left.

Xavier stands there awkwardly, staring down at the slippers. His hands are buried in his pockets and his hair drip water down his pale skin, his split lips blue from the cold. I just take him in for a few moments, my eyes passing over the wound on his cheek and the blackened eye. At this moment, Xavier doesn't look nearly as intimidating as I always thought he was. Right now, he looks broken. Like a lost puppy.

"Soup or coffee?" I ask him and he shakes his head, still looking down.

"I'm okay," he says, his breathing heavy and nose runny. He raises one of his hands, wiping his face with the back of it. He winces when he accidentally rubs across his cheek and I instinctively reach out towards him.

I catch myself before he can see me, curling my hand into a fist and bringing it back to myself. Turning away from Xavier, I hurry towards the kitchen on the right and turn on the coffee maker. It's after a few seconds that I hear dad return to the living room.

"Take these," I hear him say to Xavier. "The bathroom is right across from my room. We have warm water and everything. Wash up and change out of that health hazard."

I don't hear Xavier's reply or even his slushing steps. He probably changed out of his wet shoes and used the slippers. What I do hear is someone entering the kitchen behind me. I turn around to see Dad.

"What's going on?" he asks, his voice low but panicky. "Who is this kid? And what happened to his face? Was he in an accident?"

I shake my head. "Xavier's in my class. But ... I don't know much about him," I tell dad truthfully. "I mean, I know things that everybody says but ... I don't know if they're true anymore."

Dad frowns, looking confused. "What happened to him, Haley? Was he in a fight? Is he in a gang?"

"I don't think so," I confess and when dad lets out a disbelieving sound, I straighten up. "Look, dad ... the truth is that when I was going to Odette's place, I saw him. We were passing from this slum-like neighborhood and I ... I saw him having an argument with an older man, who kept hitting him and cussing him out. He locked Xavier out of the house and ... I think that was Xavier's dad. At least that's what he called him."

The frown from my dad's face fades slowly, realization dawning on his face yet unmarred by aging. He leans on his arm across the polished counter, staring at the floor.

"Dad, he was out there," I tell him. "You can see how hurt he is, and he's wet and ... cold. His father was asking for money but Xavier said he didn't have any. I think that explains why he didn't go anywhere for the night. He was just sitting on his doorstep. He would freeze out there. Dad, are you saying I shouldn't have asked for him to come with me?"

Dad closes his eyes momentarily, shaking his head. He sighs at the ground before looking up at me.

"Get him something to eat too," he says softly. "If he was out there all this time, he probably didn't have lunch either."

I smile, proud to be the daughter of such a kind-hearted man. I throw my arms around his waist and rest my head on his broad chest.

"You're the best, dad," I mumble. "I really don't get why mom left you."

"She doesn't have good taste," he jokes and I laugh and let him go.

"You've got that right," I call after him as he waves over his shoulder and leaves the kitchen. Smiling to myself, I pull open the refrigerator, trying to find something to give Xavier for dinner.

I can't fix his life, I don't even know what's the reality of it. But a dry bed and something to fill his stomach, a kind word or two ... it's a start.

*.*.*.*.*.*