Page 42 of Even Beneath the Stars

I throw my hands up, taking a few angry strides across the room. "Why do you do that?" I practically yell. "Why are you so callous about any suggestion I make about Finn? Sodetermined to undermine anything I do, even if it might actually be the right thing?"

He ignores me completely, and just keeps playing, working out a complicated picking rhythm.

"Tell me, Xavier —what is it you want from me?What?"

He pauses the strumming.

"I want you to quit." He resumes playing.

"Why?" I throw my arms up again. "Why do you want that so badly?" I practically beg for an answer. "I'm good to Finn. I care about him. And he likes me, right? We have fun together. Have I done anything that makes you think differently? Or is it seriously the fact that I give him boundaries that you can't stand? Is that really what you hate?"

Nothing.

"Or do you hate me because of that incident at The Welsford six months ago, where I wouldn't bend the rules for you?" I stare him down. "Because you sure seemed to be over it when you approached me at the bonfire the next day."

Still nothing from Xavier. Just more complicated guitar picking.

"Come on!" I run my fingers through my hair in frustration. "At least tell me what your problem is with me. What have I done that's so terrible?"

The music stops abruptly. Xavier's eyes lock on mine, intense and seething. "You want to know what my problem is?" His voice is low, dangerous. "My problem is that you waltz in here acting like you know everything about myfamily." He tosses the guitar aside, against one of the long cushions. His chest rises and falls in sharp breaths. "About Finn. About me. You've got us all figured out, right?"

"That's not—"

"Oh, it is." He stands, towering over me. "I've seen the way you look at everything here. Like it's all some kind of joke. Like we're all just spoiled brats playing house." He drags his tongue along his molars. "You think you're the first person to show up all high and mighty, and determined to 'fix' our lives? With all the answers on what rules or boundaries or charts or fucking bedtime routines will help Finn beso much better adjusted?"

"I never said—"

"Well, you're not!" he continues, cutting me off. "And you won't be the last. So I'm sorry to smash this whole goal of yours to be unique and authentic and one-in-a-fucking-million, because you're just one out of a whole line of nanny clones who breeze in with a mission and out again when it fails. And guess who will still be here with Finn?" He points at his chest, the muscles in his neck cording as he leans closer, his gaze drilling into mine. "Me!"He exhales sharply through his nose, his breath brushing over me. His tongue darts out to wet the corner of his lip, lingering there for a fraction of a second as if holding back even harsher words that might burn through the air. He rubs the back of his neck, his fingers digging into the taught muscles. "So yeah, instead of trying so hard to get me to listen toyouradvice, maybe for once, try listening to mine. And fuckingquit."

I stand there for a moment, absorbing his words. In total shock. Trying to wade through about a million different emotions. The shock, yeah—but also anger, and confusion. And hurt. He intended for those words to slice deep, and they did.

Not that I'll ever let him know that.

"I'm not quitting, Xavier."

"You're gonna end up quitting in a couple months anyway, might as well save yourself those few extra weeks of torture."

"I'm not quitting," I repeat.

He turns, looking out one of the windows. "You think this past week was hard? Wait 'till Jacee breezes into town for a couple of days. See how much fun Finn is to deal with afterthat.Because believe me, the tantrums you've seen so far are nothing compared to what's coming."

"I'm not going to quit because of Finn's tantrums, Xavier."

"No?" He turns to face me; our eyes lock. "Then quit because of me."

"Let me guess," I retort. "The partying is nothing now compared to what's coming."

"Fuck the partying," he sneers. "I'm gonna be your biggest entitled punk-ass nightmare."

I shake my head. Roll my eyes. "And you've been such a dreamboat so far."

His tongue grazes his teeth before he lets out a low, bitter laugh, the sound rough enough to scrape against my nerves. "Exactly." The corner of his mouth twitches, not into a smile, but into something darker—almost like he’s daring me to push him further. His gaze locks on mine, heavy with an unspoken challenge that makes my pulse stutter.

"Okay, well…" I take a step towards him, sick of the way he's trying to intimidate me. "Pretty sure I can handle Finn." I give him a slow once-over. "And I candefinitelyhandle you." I cock an eyebrow. "So. Looks like we're at a stalemate."

He studies me, eyes narrowed. Possibly rendered speechless by my response. Or possibly just regrouping.

"But, say you are right. Say hypothetically, Idoend up quitting in a couple of weeks… Because I just can’t handle what an entitled punk-ass nightmare you are." I make sure to maintain eye contact. No way I'm letting him intimidate me now. "Then, I'm still asking you—after I'm gone… even if I never get to find out you listened to me or if I'm even right on this—could you please still deal with the bedtime thing? At least try it, and see if it makes Finn happier."

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