Before Sunday

Four

10:38 PM

It takes approximately one one hundredth of a second for Madeline Mason to come to me, as if she's the edge of an arrow, and I am the bullseye. "Who was that?"

I thought everyone knew. He didn't seem like he has a hard time fitting in or making friends.

"Ask Xavier," I say.

Madeline doesn't speak but swings her questioning gaze to X. He scratches his temple and says, "no idea."

My mouth drops. The audacity! "Just stop the charade, Xavier. I'm not in the mood for it."

"I don't know, Lola," he insists. "Never seen that guy before in my life."

He's lying. The bastard.

He's not winning this one.

I turn toward Madeline. "His name is Jackson Sunday."

She grins and even with the setting of the sun, I can see color flush the sides of her face. "Jackson Sunday," she echoes.

"Yep."

"He's freaking gorgeous." Her hand settles on her stomach. "I think I got pregnant just looking at him."

I nod. It's indisputable.

Xavier scowls. "What? That guy? Are you kidding me?"

"Are you blind?" Madeline asks. "Or just jealous much?"

Xavier brings his cup to his mouth for a second swig, one brow inching up his face. "Of that guy? Please. He's got nothing on me."

"He called you Angel," Madeline gushes. "I'd die."

How nice of her to eavesdrop. Girls like her and girls like me were worlds apart. I don't figuratively die at the mention of a cute nickname, or the attention of a hot guy knowing that he sees nothing in me other than a challenge or a paycheck. I wouldn't be surprised if Xavier dished out some serious cash for this gag.

Xavier stands taller, his vertebrae replaced by steel parts. "He called you what?"

"Angel," Madeline supplies. "It was so sweet."

Xavier takes a protective step toward me. "Why would he call you that, Lola?"

Now it's my turn to grimace. "I can play your little game as long as you want."

Anger flashes across Xavier's face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

I almost want to believe that he knows nothing of Jackson Sunday. He's very convincing but I can't forget that Xavier took drama through Junior High and High School. He was a seasoned actor and I'm not a fool.

Madeline is standing there like X and I are better than any TV show she's ever seen. I can't say I blame her. This is rich.

"You sent that guy to my dorm this morning, Xavier. I got drunk enough last night to tell you my wish. I appreciate the joke but it's over now. In fact, it's starting to get a little cruel, don't you think?"

Xavier's jaw tenses, his teeth clenched tightly together. "I don't fucking know that guy, Lola. What do you mean he was at your dorm?" He acts like Madeline isn't even here, as his eyes scan the sea of people in the front yard.

The way Xavier is so stiff and angry makes my belly knot. I hadn't even considered that I could be wrong. What if he was telling the truth? My heart rate speeds up dangerously fast. My head begins to spin, a charming addition to its already painful state. "That guy was in my dorm this morning," I repeat. "He said he was there because I wished for him on the cupcake you gave me for my birthday."