CHAPTER 9: Falling Into Familiarity

             ✦ 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 ✦

Campus was practical chaos on Friday morning, which turned out to be exactly what I needed to keep my mind busy. I spent three straight hours in the department office sorting out the final recommendation letters for the vanguard fellowship. Between tracking down professors who were already checking out for the weekend and double-checking the code requirements on my submission portal, my brain was completely fried by noon.

It wasn't until I was walking down the library steps into the warm afternoon sun that a sudden thought hit me, making me pause on the concrete. I hadn't thought about Xavier all morning. Not once.

A wave of pure relief washed over me. I let out a slow breath I felt like I’d been holding for weeks, a small smile touching my lips as I pulled my backpack strap tighter over my shoulder. Finally, I thought, looking out over the crowded quad. I’m getting my life back. The universe is resetting.

Right on cue, the phone in my back pocket buzzed.

I pulled it out, and my heart did a stupid, completely unnecessary hop when I saw the name across the screen.

Xavier: Dad asked if you're free Saturday morning for the wedding venue setup.

I stopped right there on the pavement, staring down at the glowing text. Without even taking a second to think about it, my thumb was already typing a response, that faint smile returning before I could even stop it.

Julian: Yeah. I'll be there. What time?

Xavier: 10. I’ll pick you up.

"Well, aren't we looking cheerful?"

I jumped slightly, quickly locking my screen as Leo dropped his arm heavy over my shoulder, forcing me to keep walking so we didn't block the path. He was grinning like an idiot, his eyes darting down to my hidden phone before looking back at my face. "You smiled. A genuine, non-sarcastic smile at a text message. Who died and made you happy?"

I rolled my eyes, shoving the phone deep into my pocket as we crossed the grass. "I did not smile. And it’s nothing, it’s just Xavier."

Leo suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He let his arm drop from my shoulder and raised an eyebrow, staring at me with a completely unreadable expression.

I stopped a few feet ahead of him, turning around and frowning. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You called him Xavier," Leo said quietly.

I froze. The words just sat there between us, and a sudden wave of heat rushed right up my neck. My mind scrambled backward through the last few weeks, trying to defend myself, but I realized he was entirely right. Before today, whenever I talked about him, it was always my stepbrother, or that guy, or just him. I’d used every distant, guarded label I could find to keep a wall up between us.

But just now? It had come out without a single second of hesitation. Just Xavier.

"It's his name, Leo," I muttered, turning around and walking quickly toward the parking lot to hide how hot my face felt.

Leo didn't push it. He didn't tease me or try to make a massive joke out of it. He just easily caught up with me, a small, knowing smile on his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets. But I could tell from the quiet look he gave the road ahead that he had filed that moment away for later.

By the next morning, that quiet campus energy was replaced entirely by the absolute chaos at Richard’s house.

When Xavier picked me up, the drive over was quiet, but it didn't have that sharp, angry edge anymore. It just felt like two people waking up early. But the second we unlocked Richard's front door, we were hit with a wall of noise. The front door was propped wide open, and the entire living room looked like a bomb had gone off in a craft store. There were tall stacks of white linen table runners on the sofa, massive boxes of fairy lights tangled on the carpet, and bundles of pale flowers everywhere. My mom was pacing near the dining table, fiercely debating the exact placement of centerpieces with a clipboard in her hand, while Richard was halfway up a stepladder, trying to untangle a massive string of outdoor lights.

It was loud, it was messy, and it felt incredibly domestic. It looked like a real family preparing for a huge milestone, and for the first time since this whole engagement started, walking into the room didn't make me feel like an outsider looking through a window.

"Julian, thank goodness," Richard called out, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm as he looked down from the ladder. "Xavier’s in the back storage room trying to sort out the heavy display easels. Can you give him a hand? My back is officially on strike today."

"Yeah, of course," I said, dropping my jacket onto the kitchen counter.

I walked down the hallway to the small storage room at the back of the house. The door was open, and Xavier was already inside, lifting a heavy wooden crate off a low shelf. He looked up when my shadow hit the doorway, his grey eyes locking onto mine, tracking me as I stepped inside.

"Hey," he said, setting the crate down with a heavy thud. There wasn't any awkwardness in his voice anymore. It sounded... familiar. Comfortably familiar.

"Hey. Your dad sent me in for reinforcement," I said, looking at the cluttered shelves.

We didn't talk about how to split up the work. We didn't argue about who was lifting what or who was in charge. Instead, we just naturally fell into a rhythm that felt terrifyingly familiar. I grabbed the lighter metal brackets, and he automatically took the heavy wooden beams from the top rack. When he lifted a massive display board that started to tilt, I didn't even wait for him to ask—I just automatically stepped into his space, holding the base steady with both hands so it wouldn't slide on the dusty floor.

It was pure instinct. Our bodies just remembered how to coordinate around each other, finishing the physical tasks before we even had to voice them.

From the doorway, I heard a soft rustle of fabric. I glanced over my shoulder and saw my mom and Richard standing in the hall. They were supposed to be checking the flower shipments, but they were just standing there, watching us work in total silence. They were clearly remembering the two boys who used to be completely inseparable, and for once, the memory didn't make the room feel heavy.

Richard let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "It's been a long time since I've seen you two work together like that."

My mom's smile softened. "It almost feels like nothing changed."

Neither Xavier nor I knew what to say to that, so we simply went back to work.

"Hey, look at this," I said, turning back to clear out a lower shelf to break the silence. My hand had brushed against a dusty, rectangular cardboard box hidden behind some old curtains. I pulled it out, blowing a thick layer of dust off the cover. It was our old, battered Monopoly board, the corners held together by yellowed scotch tape.

A short laugh bubbled up in my chest before I could stop it. "Oh my god. I forgot your dad still had this."

Xavier looked over, his eyes softening the second he recognized the box. "You always cheated."

I gasped, looking at him with mock offense, the box still in my hands. "I did not cheat! You were just a terrible banker and always lost track of the hundreds."

"I won every single game, Julian," Xavier said, his voice dropping slightly as the corners of his mouth twitched upward into a real, effortless smile.

"Because you hid the Boardwalk card under the board in seventh grade!" I laughed, a loud, genuine sound that echoed off the small walls.

"You know," I added, the old rhythm coming back easier than I ever expected, "you also blamed me for breaking your bicycle that same summer."

Xavier looked almost offended now, leaning back against the shelf. "You did break it."

"It already had a flat tire."

"After you crashed into Mrs. Parker's mailbox," he countered.

"That mailbox came out of nowhere, Xavier. It attacked me."

For one brief second, we both laughed. The sound surprised both of us, echoing softly against the small storage room and leaving a lingering warmth in the space between us. We both sort of stopped talking, the laughter dying down as we just looked at each other. Neither of us had expected a moment to feel this normal again. For a second, it was easy to forget twelve years had passed at all. The air didn't feel thin or tense anymore; it just felt light.

By noon, Leo arrived at the house to help us load the heavier decoration boxes into the back of Richard's truck.

Leo being Leo, he completely bypassed any lingering awkwardness within thirty seconds of walking through the door. He was immediately joking with my mom about her bridal clipboard, making Richard laugh loudly with a terrible joke about wedding DJs, and he even managed to get Xavier to give a small, amused nod while they were lifting a heavy crate of glassware together.

While my mom and Richard were in the kitchen sorting out the lunch orders they'd brought in, Leo and I walked back to the storage room to grab the final stack of boxes.

Leo quietly nudged my shoulder with his elbow as we reached the doorway, keeping his voice down. "So..."

"So what?" I asked, picking up a box of string lights.

"You don't hate him anymore," Leo said. It wasn't a question, and there was no teasing smirk on his face this time. He was just looking at me with a calm, steady expression.

I adjusted the heavy box in my arms, looking down at the cardboard flaps. I wanted to find that old, protective anger, but when I searched my chest, it just wasn't there anymore. "I don't know," I said honestly, looking up to meet his eyes. "It's complicated."

Leo smiled gently, lifting his own box from the shelf. "I don't think it's that complicated. I think you guys are just finally remembering who you used to be."

I let out a soft breath, feeling a massive weight lift from my shoulders. "Yeah. Maybe that's a start."

"It's a great start," Leo nodded, turning to carry his box down the hall.

I followed him out to the driveway, the bright afternoon light hitting us as we started packing the back of the truck. As we worked, I noticed Leo was quietly paying attention to us. He didn't say a word, but I saw the way his eyes tracked Xavier. Whenever I spoke—even if I was just asking Richard where the packing tape was—Xavier’s head would automatically turn toward me. He wouldn't look at Leo, or his father, or the truck. His eyes just automatically found me, listening intently until I was completely done speaking.

Leo caught my eye over the bed of the truck and gave me a tiny, silent wink that made me look away quickly. I frowned slightly. Leo looked from me to Xavier for a brief second, the playful grin on his face fading into a thoughtful expression I couldn't quite read. It only lasted a moment before he shook his head and smiled again, grabbing another box like nothing had happened. Whatever was going through his mind, he kept it to himself.

By five in the evening, the truck was completely packed, the driveway was finally clear, and everything was ready for the venue setup the next morning.

Richard stood by the hood of the truck, looking around the empty driveway and wiping his dusty hands on a towel. He looked incredibly proud, a deep, tired happiness in his eyes as the sun started to dip below the tree line. "Well, that's it. Everything's ready. Tomorrow's the wedding."

A sudden, heavy quiet fell over the driveway. The absolute reality of it finally landed on all of us.

I instinctively looked across the truck bed toward Xavier. He was already looking at me. Our eyes met in the fading evening light, holding the gaze for a long, quiet moment. There was no awkwardness, no lingering resentment, and no walls. It was just a quiet, mutual understanding. We were both ready for whatever was coming next.

Richard broke the silence, stepping over and putting one arm around my mom’s waist, looking at Xavier and me with a huge smile. "This time tomorrow... we'll officially be one family."

My mom beamed, leaning into his side. Leo smiled from the driver's seat of his car, waving goodbye as he started the engine to head home.

I smiled too, looking back at Xavier one last time before we headed inside. He gave me a tiny nod, the faint smile on his face small enough that anyone else might have missed it. Somehow, it felt like it was meant only for me.

I turned toward the house to grab my backpack from the porch, but as I walked, I realized my chest was tight for a completely different reason now. I frowned to myself. We were just beco

ming friends again. So why did that thought make my heart race?.........