Page 140 of Even Beneath the Stars

But he doesn't text back.

Chapter Sixty

Maggie

On Saturday, Ispend the night at Laney's house and we have a girls’ night with a bunch of friends. I get a little intel on Xave from Jackie and Caroline, who say he's been pretty down lately. Quiet and mostly keeping to himself. Jackie says he's really worried about his brother. The situation with Marta is obviously worse than Xave let on with me in the car. Finn's pulling a lot of the same bullshit he used to pull before me, and Denise is back to looking for a new nanny.

Apparently Xave's had a couple of parties these past few weeks, but nothing like the ones he used to have. Less people and only closer friends. Still, Caroline says he disappeared—alone—halfway through those parties, and no one could find him. I both love and hate that, even though I wasn't invited to either party, I'm the only one who knows where he was. In the Observatory, writing music.

On Sunday, I send Xave another text.

Maggs

painted my nails last nite. brown and white cos i was going for a tootsie roll theme

just me, or does it totally look like a poop and toilet paper theme?

I don't get a reply. And it occurs to me that as romantic and "right" as it seemed at the time to declare I would keep these notes up for as long as it takes to get through to Xave that he isn't a disappointment, and for him to talk to me again (or tell me outright to leave him alone), the realityseems to be pointing to the fact that it isn't going to work. Like, at some point, do you shift from being persistent to just being a flat-out stalker? Hopefully, I haven't crossed that line yet. But how do I prove to him I'm not walking away, when showing up all the time starts to feel like I'm just batshit crazy?

Chapter Sixty-One

Maggie

On Monday, I wake up and there's a text waiting on my phone.

From Xavier.

I open it. And there's just a photo of his feet, wearing his beat-up burgundy Vans.

And the Cookie Monster socks.

I smile all morning.

ChapterSixty-Two

Maggie

That evening, mom, Silas and I devour takeout while he and I watch a J-Drama and mom reads—a neurology book this time. Which is always disappointing for Silas and I.

After a couple of episodes I get up and stretch.

"You heading to your room to work on your diorama?" My mom asks. Only she says it in this voice that sounds like she's a bad actor in a straight-to-TV movie.

"Uh, yeah… Why?"

She and Silas exchange alook.

"What?" My eyes bounce between them. "What's up?"

"Nothing," They say in unison, Silas biting down on a grin and mom avoiding eye contact altogether.

"Okaaaaay then." I nod, looking between them another time before turning slowly to head to my room.

I sit down at my crafting table to work on my diorama.

Only my diorama isn't there.

There's another one in its place.

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