CHAPTER 8: A QUIET TRUCE

      ✦ 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 ✦

I woke up the next morning thinking about the dinner at Richard’s house.

As I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor, I realized something that actually shocked me. I wasn’t dreading the thought of seeing Xavier anymore. The tight, heavy ball of anxiety that usually hit my stomach every morning was completely gone.

I immediately shook my head and stood up, trying to brush the thought away. You’re just getting used to the situation, I told myself as I grabbed my clothes. It doesn't mean anything has actually changed between you two. But deep down, even I didn't fully believe it.

Campus was incredibly busy, which turned out to be a good thing. I spent the morning in the computer lab, completely focused on the final data adjustments for my fellowship application. The deadline was creeping up fast, and the pressure was a helpful reminder that my life and my goals were still moving forward.

By the time I met up with Leo near our usual spot outside the library, I was feeling lighter than I had in a couple of weeks.

"Well, look at you," Leo said, leaning against the brick wall as I walked up. "Whatever happened last night, you're finally unclenching your jaw. You actually look human today."

I waved my hand at him, trying to hide a small smile. "Nothing happened. I just finally finished the risk-assessment models for the fellowship."

"Sure, let's blame it on the finance homework," Leo grinned, falling into step beside me as we started walking toward the quad. "But seriously, the dark cloud is gone. Keep doing whatever you're doing."

As we continued across the quad, I caught myself glancing toward the crowded parking lot for no reason at all. I frowned. What exactly was I expecting to see? Shaking my head, I shoved both hands into my pockets and forced my attention back to Leo's rambling story. I was getting ridiculous.

That relaxed feeling lasted until about three in the afternoon, when my phone buzzed in my pocket while I was wrapping up a study block. It was my mom.

"Julian, sweetie, I am so sorry," she said the second I answered, her voice sounding frantic over the phone. "The caterer completely messed up the menu samples, and I’m stuck at this bridal shop across town. I was supposed to pick you up after your block, but I can't leave."

"Mom, it's fine," I said quickly, packing my notebook into my bag. "I can just take the bus home. It's no big deal."

"No, Richard already took care of it," she said, letting out a relieved sigh. "Xavier was already out running errands near campus. He’s going to pick you up. He should be in the student parking lot in about ten minutes, okay?"

My hand went completely still on my backpack zipper. I hesitated, a sudden wave of nerves hitting me. "Mom, really, I can just—"

"Thank you so much, honey, you're a lifesaver! I have to go, love you!"

The line went dead. I stared at my screen for a few seconds, taking a slow breath. There was no getting out of it. I pulled my backpack over my shoulder and started walking toward the parking lot.

When I found his car, Xavier was sitting in the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead. I opened the passenger door and slid inside, the cool air conditioning hitting my face.

"Hey," I said quietly, pulling my seatbelt across my chest.

Xavier didn't turn his head, but he gave a small nod. "Hey."

He put the car in drive and pulled out of the campus lot. For the first ten minutes, the silence inside the car was total. I kept my eyes fixed on the passenger window, watching the campus buildings fade away into normal city traffic, while Xavier kept both hands on the wheel, completely focused on the road. Neither of us really knew how to break the ice.

I noticed the radio was playing at a very low volume. I leaned in a little closer, listening past the hum of the engine, and my chest gave a sudden, unexpected squeeze. It was a classic rock track from an old band we used to listen to on repeat in his bedroom when we were kids. I didn't say anything, but a wave of warmth hit me.

Before I could think too much about it, Xavier reached into the console box between our seats with his right hand. Without taking his eyes off the road, he lifted a small brown paper bag from a convenience store and quietly dropped it right onto my lap.

I looked down at the bag, then up at his sharp profile. "What's this?"

"Eat," he said simply.

I stared at the paper bag for another second before reaching inside. "You didn't have to do this."

Xavier kept his eyes on the road. "I know."

There was something strangely familiar about the answer. He hadn't bought the sandwich because he expected thanks. He had simply noticed.

Inside was a fresh turkey sandwich and a bottle of juice. My stomach chose that exact moment to let out a loud, embarrassing growl.

I felt my face heat up. "You still remember?"

Xavier kept his eyes on the traffic ahead, his jaw relaxing just a fraction. "You always forgot to eat when you were studying."

The car went quiet again, but the heavy, awkward tension was completely gone. It was a comfortable silence now. I unwrapped the sandwich and started eating, feeling a strange, quiet safety in the passenger seat.

A few miles down the road, the brake lights ahead of us lit up in a solid wall of red. Traffic was completely jammed, stretching out as far as I could see.

Xavier looked at the line of cars, then quietly flipped his turn signal on and pulled into the parking lot of a small, quiet café on the corner.

I swallowed my last bite of food and looked around. "Why are we stopping?"

Xavier turned off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. He glanced over at me, the ghost of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Because if we sit in that traffic for an hour, you're going to complain about being hungry again."

I stared at him, totally shocked. It was the first time he had joked with me since he came back. A short laugh almost escaped my throat, but I caught it just in time, rolling my eyes instead. "I don't complain that much."

"You do," he said quietly as he opened his door. "Come on."

We walked into the café and took a small table by the window. The place was warm and smelled like roasted coffee beans, a quiet contrast to the noisy street outside.

Xavier wrapped both hands around his mug, looking across the table at me. He cleared his throat lightly, looking a little unsure for a second before speaking. "So, finance? Richard mentioned you're basically living in the library lately."

"Pretty much," I said, taking a sip of my coffee. "The classes are brutal this semester. The data adjustments for the fellowship application are taking up every spare second I have."

"Is it matching up with what you wanted to do?" he asked. There was no judgment in his voice, just a quiet, genuine curiosity.

"Yeah, it actually is," I admitted, looking out the window for a second before meeting his eyes again. "It’s a lot of risk-assessment models and corporate strategy. It’s stressful, but when the numbers finally balance out, it’s worth it."

Xavier gave a slow nod, the corners of his eyes softening. "You always were good at finding patterns in things. I’m glad you stuck with it."

"What about you?" I asked. "What do you do now?"

Xavier looked down at his coffee for a moment before answering. "I work with my father."

"Full time?"

He nodded once. "Mostly operations."

I waited for him to elaborate. He didn't. Somehow, it didn't feel rude. It just felt... like Xavier.

A strange, warm feeling hit my chest. It felt a little awkward, but it was a good kind of awkward. To hide the flush on my cheeks, I quickly stirred my coffee, looking at the little swirl of milk in the cup as a sudden memory popped into my head.

"Speaking of building things from scratch," I started, a genuine laugh bubbling up before I could stop it, "do you remember the day we built that balsa wood airplane? The one in your study?"

Xavier paused, his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. His grey eyes locked onto mine. "Yeah."

"We used so much superglue that we literally glued our fingers together," I laughed, the memory vivid and bright in my mind. "My mom had to use nail polish remover to separate us, and you were crying because you thought we’d be attached at the hand forever."

"I was not crying," Xavier said immediately, but as he spoke, a real, genuine smile broke across his face. It was wide and hit his eyes, completely transforming his cold, serious expression.

The smile disappeared almost as fast as it came, his usual calm mask slipping back into place, but I had already seen it. It completely threw me off. My heart did a strange, sudden flip. That was the exact Xavier I remembered from my childhood.

"You know," I said with another laugh, the old rhythm coming back easier than I expected, "you blamed me for breaking your bicycle that summer."

Xavier looked almost offended. "You did break it."

"It already had a flat tire."

"After you crashed into Mrs. Parker's mailbox."

"That mailbox attacked me."

For one brief second, they both laughed. The sound surprised both of them, echoing softly against the cafe window and leaving a lingering warmth in the space between us.

By the time the traffic cleared and Xavier pulled up to the curb in front of my house, the sun was completely down.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and grabbed my backpack from the floor. I turned to look at him, my hand on the door handle. "Thanks for the ride. And the sandwich."

Xavier nodded, his hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. There was no long, dramatic speech, and no awkward lingering. He just looked at me through the dim light of the dashboard.

"See you tomorrow," he said quietly.

I froze for a split second, my fingers gripping the door handle. Tomorrow. The word didn't sound forced or heavy. It felt completely, strangely natural.

"Yeah," I replied. "See you tomorrow."

As I closed the passenger door, the engine didn't start immediately. Xavier stayed parked at the curb. I could feel it. He was waiting until I got inside. Only after I unlocked the front door and stepped into the hallway did I hear the quiet sound of the car pulling away into the dark.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the hallway mirror. I was smiling faintly.

I immediately shook my head, forcing my face back into a serious expression as I walked toward the stairs. This doesn't change anything, I told myself, trying to find the familiar anger.

But somewhere along the way, Xavier had stopped feeling like a stranger. He wasn't the boy I'd lost, but he wasn't a ghost anymore, either.