The Distance Between Us

when he smiles. If more than my heart knew that we have something, I could open that door right now and face disappointing my mother.
    “Who’s that?”
    This is not a good time for this. My mom and I finally feel right again. I shake my head no, but instead of walking away Xander holds up a drink with a smirk as if to say, I’m not leaving so let me in .
    I narrow my eyes and smile a little. All right, if he wants to play it that way. Game on. “Oh, that looks like Mrs. Dalton’s grandson. He came in the other day to pick up a doll for her. I’ll just tell him we don’t open until nine today and to come back later.”
    “Oh no, honey. Mrs. Dalton is our best customer. Why don’t you let him in and see what he needs.”
    Or there’s that. Crap.
    I slowly unlock the door. “Hi,” I say when I open it. His familiar scent wafts in with the breeze and doesn’t help my already racing heart. I take a deep breath. “We’re not open yet. Did your grandma need something?”
    He takes a sip of the drink then hands it to me. I cringe. That act alone is going to make my mom think he is the most obnoxious rich person in the world who wants me to hold his drink while he shops.
    “I want to meet your mom,” he says loud enough for her to hear.
    “Yes, my mom is much more knowledgeable about the dolls than I am.” I turn toward my mother. “Mom, he . . . um . . . I’m sorry, what was your name again? Wellington or something?”
    A crease of confusion forms between his brows, but I can tell he also thinks it’s funny.
    “No, that wasn’t your name. Um . . .”
    “Xander.”
    “Right. I knew it was something odd like that.”
    “Caymen,” my mom says. “Sorry, my daughter is very dry. She’s just kidding.”
    “Last time Xander came in he was really interested in the sleeping baby dolls. Didn’t you say they made your heart happy just to look at them?”
    “I don’t recall saying that but it sounds like me.”
    I laugh then quickly suck in my lips to stop myself. “Maybe you could show him our collection, Mom.”
    My mom tilts her head at me, obviously confused. She’s going to call me out. She must sense I know Xander. I need to get out of here. I shake the full cup of hot chocolate in my hand, pretending it’s empty. “There’s a trash outside. I’ll just take care of this for you.” I turn back to my mom. “I’m going to be late. I’ll see you after school.”
    “Have a great day, honey.”
    I leave, flashing Xander a look of wide-eyed innocence. A sadness follows me out of the store, and I can’t decide if it’s because I just lied to my mom again or because I really do want my mom to know Xander. Not just know him but like him.
     
    I’m ten steps from school when a pair of hands grabs my arms from behind, stopping me in my tracks. “You are the biggest brat. You know that, right?” Xander says in my ear. He lets go and I turn around, smiling.
    “No, you are. I told you I didn’t want you to meet my mom yet. But you thought you’d do it anyway.”
    “Yes, I did. I wanted to show you that all moms like me. And your mom is no exception: she loves me.”
    My heart skips a beat. “Really?”
    “I didn’t know it was going to cost me a hundred and fifty bucks to prove it but she’s smitten.”
    Oh. Of course she loved him. He was a customer. “You bought a doll?” He isn’t holding a bag so I grab the lapels of his open jacket and look inside.
    “It’s not on me, woman. I put it in the car.”
    “Who did you buy?”
    “You don’t honestly expect me to remember.”
    “I know you remember.”
    “Daphne.”
    “You bought a Wailer?”
    “Yes, I was feeling a little frustrated in there, and this screaming baby represented my mood very well. I’ll just give her to my grandma next year for her birthday.” He looks down. “You thought I stashed the doll in my coat?”
    I realize I’m still holding tight to his jacket. “If your ego fits in there anything is possible.” Just as I’m about to let go, he puts his hands over mine, sandwiching them between his chest and his warm hands.
    I’m now staring at the open collar of his name-brand shirt, trying to pretend that he’s not staring at me. Classmates walk by me, rushing to get to class, and I sense them looking at me.
    “I thought you were out of town.”
    He shrugs a little. “I’m back.”
    “I thought we weren’t seeing each other until Saturday.” My voice comes out breathy.
    “I couldn’t wait.”
    My