The Distance Between Us

the glowing screen. The picture is what I see first: a dark-haired girl laughing. I don’t need to see the name at the bottom to know what it will say, but I look anyway. Sadie. “See . . . ?” I say, raising one eyebrow at Skye.
    “Seriously?” she says.
    I nod and then, while looking at Xander’s back and the band still going strong behind the glass, I act on the strangest impulse ever, scoop up his phone, and answer it. “Hello?”
    Skye’s mouth opens so wide that I fear her jaw might come unhinged.
    “Hello? . . . Xander? . . . I can’t hear you very well. I’m in the car.” Her voice sounds so normal. I had seen Sadie Newel in a few movies, and this version didn’t sound like the sophisticated version from the theater.
    I don’t know what to say now that I’ve done it. “This isn’t Xander. Let me get him for you.”
    “I can’t hear you. What? Ugh. Listen, my connection is bad, but I need you to work your magic. I’ll call you back when I get to the hotel.” The phone goes dead, and I push it back onto the table as though it’s about to explode.
    Skye giggles. “You’re crazy.”
    “She didn’t know it was me. She’s calling back later.”
    Xander spins in his chair, making me gasp. “Does anyone want to listen?” he asks, taking off the headphones and holding them out.
    “Yes.” Skye jumps up and moves forward. When she’s settled into the chair next to Xander’s listening to the band he spins around to face me.
    “So why not this?” I ask, sitting on the couch again.
    “What?”
    “Why wouldn’t you produce music for a living? It seems like a passion of yours.”
    He rolls the chair forward until our knees bump. “My father would never front the money for something like that.”
    I stare at our knees, wondering if I should use the wheels on his chair to my advantage and shove him away. I ignore the urge. “But he built this studio?”
    “My older brother is a classical guitarist. This was to provide a creative outlet. A hobby. I spent a lot of time in here with him learning this stuff. But this is not a career in my father’s opinion.”
    “I thought you didn’t care what your father thought,” I say.
    He narrows his eyes as if considering the question. “I guess I care what my father’s money thinks.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Without it I can’t be free of him. It’s like a double-edged sword.”
    I get what he’s saying: that he needs money to go to college, get his own career, so he can make his own money. But I wonder if Xander really only cares about the money. He seems to put a lot of effort into making his father angry. I’m guessing he cares a lot about what his father thinks.
    On the other side of the glass Mason sings with his eyes closed. He looks ridiculous.
    Xander taps my knee with a closed fist, bringing my attention back to him. “I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t think . . .”
    I tilt my head, waiting for him to finish.
    “After last Saturday . . . and you returned my camera without a word. . . .” His eyes bore into mine.
    “What?” I ask, dying to know why he’s not finishing his thoughts. What he’s leaving unsaid. Did how we left things bother him as much as they did me?
    “I’m out of town this weekend but next Saturday? Are we still on?”
    I blink once. That’s what he wants? More career days?
    Skye lets out a yelp, startling me. “That was so awesome.” She stands.
    Xander stands as well, walks over, and pushes the Mic button. “That’s a wrap. Good job, guys.” He goes to the table and pockets his keys and cell then looks at me apologetically. “I didn’t know you were coming. I really am on a tight schedule.” He checks his watch. “I’m supposed to be at the airport in twenty minutes.”
    “I’m pretty sure we can walk ourselves to the car.”
    “So I’ll see you next Saturday?”
    I want to say, “I don’t know, you better check with your girlfriend first. She just called; should we ask her?” But I don’t. I just nod. Because girlfriend or not, I want to see him on Saturday. Apparently I’m further from being over him than I hoped and I hate myself for being so weak.

Chapter 24

    M onday morning as I say good-bye to my mom and grab my backpack for school there’s a knock on the door. I look over to see Xander standing there holding his two cups. My heart jumps to my throat. No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. He has a girlfriend. If I knew . . . My heart doubles its speed