Page 31 of Even Beneath the Stars

Xavier, on the other hand, is still being a complete and total ass.

These past few days have been exhausting—trying to keep up with Finn's endless energy while establishing some semblance of structure, trying not to totally lose it on Xavier, and keeping on top of homework. Having yesterday off to crash at home was exactly what I needed—just me, Mom, Silas, and a Netflix marathon. It was perfection.

I glance at my phone. Fifteen minutes till bedtime. I should probably start the wind-down routine soon.

"Xaaaave!" Finn's delighted squeal breaks through my thoughts.

I lean out to peer through the archway, just in time to see Xave wander in, set a half-empty smoothie on the coffee table, then scoop Finn up and toss him onto the plush blue couch. Finn's giggles echo off the vaulted ceiling as he bounces on the cushions.

I brace myself for whatever method Xave decides to antagonize me with this evening. I really thought once he saw how much I care about Finn, his frosty attitude toward me would ease up. But nope. If anything, he seems more determined than ever to be a grade-A jerk. He's like a snowstorm: inconvenient, disruptive, and somehow still makes everything look pretty. All I can say is thank God for hockey season keeping him out of the house two evenings a week.

He play-wrestles with Finn for a few minutes, and the contrast between Xave's deep voice and Finn's high pitch squeals makes me smile, despite not loving that Finn is going to be riled up and hyper right before bed. But after a few minutes, Xavier grabs the remote off the coffee table and slumps into the cushions. Then obviously changes his mind because he pulls the guitar from the other couch cushion onto his lap, tossing the remote in its place. He starts strumming a chilled-out tune, not seeming one bit bothered that Finn's climbing all over him like he's some kind of musical jungle gym. He even pausesa couple of times, tucking the guitar pick between his teeth to steady Finn when he attempts to stand on Xavier's bent knees, his lanky body tipping dangerously close to the corner of the coffee table. The third time, Xavier pulls him down beside him with a muscled forearm.

"Remember how to play E-minor chord?" he asks, leaning the guitar towards his brother so he can reach the frets.

Finn totally ignores the question. "Play Boo Thang!" he chimes instead, lifting onto his knees and pulling Xavier's arm.

"E-minor… It's super easy, remember? Two frets. Here…" Xavier takes Finn's hand, positioning his tiny fingers. "Yeah. And…. here. Cool." He laughs. "Press down… You got it. Just keep your fingers pressed down like that."

Finn sighs. "Can you play Boo Thang now?"

Xavier pushes down lightly on Finn's fingers again, then with his other hand, starts strumming the distinctive intro to Wonderwall. He only gets a couple of strums in, though. Finn is bouncing on his knees, bugging him to play Lil' Boo Thang, and the melody transitions seamlessly to fulfill his brother's request. It takes all my restraint to keep my smile from melting into laughter. And while I get that this side of Xavier is one that belongs only to Finn, I can't help thinking it would be nice to see a little of that humor, at least, without the jabs. Even a minimal amount of respect would be nice. Clearly, he's capable of it. With everyone but me.

The melody transitions again, this time into something more folk-y.

He tucks the pick between his teeth and adjusts one of the strings. "Where's your pink-haired warden?" he asks Finn, the pick wobbling between his teeth as he speaks.

See? With anything that has to do with me, he is Such. A. Dick.

That last comment pretty much sums up how he views me—as Finn's freaking warden. Even though I've never been anything but reasonable and patient and kind with Finn. Even when I'm enforcing rules, or dealing with one of his epic tantrums.

Before Finn can answer—or I can come up with a fittingly clever retort to let Xavier know I'm right bloody here, a few feet away and certainly close enough to hear his cutting insults—Xavier's cell rings on the coffee table.

Even from my side-view vantage point, it’s impossible not to notice the way his features harden at the sound of the "Fake Plastic Trees" ringtone. The playful, gentle guy from moments ago vanishes, replaced by someone guarded and tense. He leans over, exhaling a long breath as he retrieves his phone and slides his thumb across the screen.

He brings the phone up to his ear and answers with a curt "Hey." Completely different from the warm tone he was just using with Finn.

My hands freeze over the miniature vending machine, watching the transformation. It's like someone flipped a switch—his entire body language shifts. His shoulders tighten, jaw clenches. Even his voice changes, becoming flat and cold. The contrast is jarring.

"Fine."

"Yep."

"Not really."

I try to focus on weathering the individual soda buttons, but it's impossible not to notice how Finn's whole demeanor changes too. He stops bouncing, his little face scrunching up as he watches his brother. The energy in the room has completely shifted, and my heart aches seeing how in tune Finn is with Xavier's mood.

I want to scoop Finn up and distract him, but I stay put. Moving now would only draw attention to the awkwardness of the moment, as Xavier's terse one-word responses continue to echo in the cavernous room.

"Why?"

"Sure." His free hand absently strokes Finn's curls, like he's trying to maintain some connection to their previous lighthearted moment despite whomever's on the other end of that call.

"Un-huh."

"He's fine."

"Yeah." He glances down at his brother. Sighs. "Yeah." The nerve in his jaw tics. "He's right here."

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