Chapter Ten
Three Weeks Left
My alarm blares at seven thirty. I barely slept after the whirlwind of last night. All I remember is calling Amira and Maddie in a panic. They dropped everything and rushed over and tried to make me feel better about the trip. Key word being tried. Despite them reminding me what a great opportunity it was and that it was only two days, I could still feel knots of tension in my stomach. The girls helped me pack, throwing clothes into my bag so quickly that I barely had time to see what was going in and what wasn’t. Who knows if anything will match.
I can’t believe Meagan was so adamant about me going on this trip with Xander! And not just any trip; it had to be to Snowdonia. The middle of nowhere. Hardly another soul for miles around. I googled it and I admit that it looks beautiful. In any other situation, I would be excited, but of course I’m dreading it because I have to go there with him. How we’re going to stay in the same place without killing each other, or worse, is beyond me.
I look at the time. Seven forty-six: shit! Xander is going to be here in less than fifteen minutes. I jump out of bed, run to the bathroom and wash my face and brush my teeth in record time before rushing around to quickly do my morning skincare routine. Fine, yes, maybe he’s right and I am slightly high maintenance. Sue me.
My phone starts to ring. I glance at the screen and see Xander’s name pop up. With a sigh, I answer it, bracing myself for what I know is coming.
‘What’s up, Xandy?’
I say sweetly.
‘I’m outside.’
Xander’s deep voice comes through the line, sending tingles down my spine.
‘Ready to go?’
I look down at myself, currently with one leg in my jeans and my make-up half done.
‘Just putting my shoes on,’ I lie.
Xander waits a few beats.
‘Let me guess, you’re currently half-dressed and nowhere near ready?’
I can hear the knowing smirk in his voice.
I freeze. Of course, he can see straight through my lies, even on the phone. Sometimes I think he can read my mind. I hang up and go back to getting ready as quick as I can. It’s a miracle I don’t fall over from all the back-and-forth I’m doing.
I manage to pull myself together in the next ten minutes. I go for a basic outfit, jeans and a cute simple top. I put on my biggest winter coat and wrap a chunky scarf round my neck. I grab my make-up bag quickly and do some finishing touches, swiping on some mascara and a layer of lip gloss. I take a glance in the mirror and give myself a quick pep talk for the weekend ahead.
‘You’ve got this, Yara. No man is going to tear you down. Never again.’
I let the words settle in my chest before grabbing my overnight bag and heading straight out the door, leaving the chaos and mess behind. As soon as I step out, I feel the crisp morning air. I glance around, searching for Xander in the cars lining the street. When I finally spot him, I do a double-take. A sleek, black sports car is parked right in front of my house. I’m going to have to ask HR if we’re really on the same salary. It stands out like a sore thumb in my area that estate agents have been callin.
‘up-and-coming’
for the past twenty years. I’d always known he had money but seeing him with a car like that makes me think I underestimated.
As I approach, I can’t help but take a good long look at the beauty of a car in front of me. Damn him. Handsome and rich. God, what a deadly combination.
Just as I reach for the door handle, I hear footsteps pounding on the pavement, coming towards me. I lift my gaze to see Xander’s towering figure moving to my side of the car with steely determination. He opens the passenger door for me, looking down at me.
‘After you, m’lady,’
he says with a mocking expression.
My eyes widen. I know full well he’s referencing that night at Andrew’s with Gabe. I try to keep my embarrassment at bay and shoot him a look of complete indifference. I’m reminded that I haven’t heard from him – probably Xander put him off me. Another thing he’s sabotaged for me.
‘You think you’re funny, huh?’
‘What? I heard you like that sort of thing.’
He raises his hands in pretend defence.
My face turns beet-red the moment I sit in the car. It’s only been a few minutes, and I already feel a little flustered by his teasing. I want to scream in annoyance because he knows exactly which buttons to press to get a reaction from me. So instead of giving him what he wants, I just grit my teeth and throw him an unimpressed look.
Xander chuckles as he goes to the driver’s side and slides into his seat, looking way too confident for my liking. I keep my gaze firmly forward, but I catch a glimpse of him through my peripheral vision as he adjusts his seat. I don’t miss the way the muscles in his arms flex underneath his deep purple shirt, which complements his golden complexion. How does he have a tan even in the autumn? He’s too attractive for his own good. It makes my blood boil. Not because I like him… obviously. It’s because he knows he’s so good-looking. His cocky attitude doesn’t help anything.
He starts the engine, and a low rumbling sound fills the car. I feel that familiar tension building again. I am angry, frustrated and annoyed with him all at once, which isn’t exactly how I wanted to start my Saturday morning. I have to stop letting him get in my head. I just need to write an amazing finale and everything else – promotions, solo opportunities, commissioned writing gigs – will fall into place. Then, I can forget about Xander Woods for ever.
Xander’s voice breaks the silence.
‘You’re late.’
‘I know.’
‘I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.’
He glances at me from the corner of his eye, his tone teasing.
‘That’s rich coming from you. Don’t you remember my first day?’
His eyes fall to his lap and – is that a blush I see stretching across those perfectly sculpted cheekbones?
‘What’s your point, Xander? You upset because I didn’t fall in line with your little schedule?’
My lips twist into a sarcastic smile.
‘Always the rebel, Yazza,’
he says, the corner of his lips quirking up.
I feel an unexpected shiver run through me at the comment. Gah! I normally hate him calling me by my family nickname, but recently it’s felt different somehow. Makes me feel at home. I’m probably just getting used to it. Isn’t it called immersion therapy? That’s how they cure allergies and phobias, I think. I quickly push the thought aside and turn my attention back onto the road.
He peels away from the house, leaving my safe space behind, and we head toward the edge of the city. The car is filled with the sounds of passing traffic, urgent horns and road rage, until we finally escape onto the wide expanse of the motorway. Quiet. Too much quiet.
I ask Xander if I can put some music on, but he says he hasn’t got any on his phone. Of course he doesn’t. He mentions that there might a Bob Dylan CD – obviously – and I rummage around looking for it but can’t find it anywhere. Xander says he must have misplaced it, but he thinks that the quiet is nice. I hate the silence but here I am. Stuck in a car with my number one enemy with nothing but the sound of tyres on the road to fill the air.
‘Well.’
He taps his fingers on the steering wheel.
‘Wanna play a game instead?’
‘A game?’
‘Yeah, you know, a game, which is an activity that one engages in for fun?’
‘I know what a game is,’
I say with a deadpan look. I know I need to bring up the whol.
‘taking credit for my ideas’
thing eventually, but not yet. We have a long journey and weekend ahead of us, so we might as well get along until the time is right.
‘Which game?’
‘Two truths and a lie. You know it?’
‘I know it.’
Why not? We’re going to be stuck in this car for hours, and I guess it could be fun.
‘Fine, let’s play, but I hope you don’t expect me to go easy on you.’
‘You? Go easy on me? Can’t imagine it. I wouldn’t dream of it. Okay… you go first.’
I mull it over for a moment.
‘Alright. I’ve travelled to five different continents. I hate spiders. And I once swam with sharks.’
‘Swam with sharks, huh? Well, I know you’re afraid of horror movies, heights and the dark – most things basically,’
he says.
‘Swimming with sharks, on the other hand, that seems pretty bold. Not something you would do. So, I’m going to guess that’s the lie.’
Xander studies me for a second before relaxing back in his seat.
‘Am I right or am I right?’
‘WRONG. I did actually swim with sharks when they took us to the Bahamas last season. Remember, the mermaids subplot? The lie is the spider one. I actually think they’re really cute.’
I laugh with victory. I knew that would catch him out.
‘You think spiders are cute?’
Xander stares at me in shock with his mouth slightly agape.
‘I know, I know. It’s kinda weird, but I saw this poem about spiders on TikTok once and it changed how I view them from that point onwards,’
I say with a shrug.
‘They’re actually really misunderstood.’
As though talking to himself, he says quietly.
‘I hate spiders…’
‘You hate spiders? I thought you said that if you can’t handle Tarantino at his goriest then you can’t handle him at his best. Or that fear always lies at the heart of great character? But you’re afraid of an incy, wincy spider?’
‘Hey, I thought you liked your male characters to be sensitive and multifaceted? I’m showing a bit of weakness, here, and you’re laughing at me.’
‘Maybe that just applies to fictional characters. A book boyfriend will never let you down.’
‘You’re something else, you know that?’
Xander chuckles and shakes his head. It does something to me that I can’t explain. I have to remind myself what he did just days ago.
‘Okay,’
I say.
‘Your turn.’
He nods thoughtfully, considering his words.
‘Okay, let me think. Right, got some. I’ve never been on a boat. I can’t ride a bike. My favourite snack is…’
We play several rounds and with every one we get to know each other more. Xander eases into the drive and is surprisingly easy to talk to now. We slip into a rhythm, finding ourselves telling stories we’ve never shared with anyone. I open up about how lonely I can find the city but how my friendship with Maddie and Amira has helped me through that. And even though they’re always there for me, sometimes I think I need more. More experiences. More something. I talk about my parents, their impossible expectations, how they hate my career and I sometimes think they’re just waiting for me to fail. Although Elif supports me, it’s easier for her. She’s a doctor and has a husband and a baby on the way and all the things that mean my parents think her life is good and meaningful. They’re all things that make me feel vulnerable, but it’s freeing, like a weight coming off my chest.
I can see the same thing happening with him. He reveals his family life and how, when his parents separated, he basically got shipped off to boarding school and no one checked up on him. How he has a sister – I pretend not to know that from Instagram – who he basically never got to speak to from ages eleven to eighteen, and he still feels the distance of those separated years now. He opens up about how he was bullied by the other boys because he liked books and films, not rugby and cricket. He says that – would you believe – he was a late bloomer and in fact pretty ugly until he was eighteen. Only then did he get handsome.
‘So you think you’re handsome?’ I say.
‘Well,’
he demurs.
‘some have said that it’s true.’
I learn Xander barely speaks to either of his parents and they don’t understand his workaholic nature. My view of him changes and for the first time Xander doesn’t sound like the cocky, arrogant rich guy I’ve known for years. He just sounds… human. Maybe he’s not the devil incarnate, but a person with insecurities and failures and a history like everyone else. Who’d have thought? I chastise myself.
‘I’m sorry, by the way, about your first day at work,’ he says.
‘Huh?’
‘When I was late.’
‘Oh, sorry, I was just kidding about that earlier. I know you were hungover. It happens to the best of—’
‘You thought I was hungover?’
He laughs.
‘No wonder we’ve been at war for three years. I’m really bad at first impressions, aren’t I?’
‘Of all your strengths, I’d put storyboarding and obscure movie knowledge at the top, but first impressions maybe not…’
He chuckles, one hand holding the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh. He glances at me, then back to the road.
‘No, I remember that day actually. My grandma’
– his voice breaks, but he turns it into a cough .
‘she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s your first week, although she’d been ill for a really long time before that. I suppose I was coming to terms with the diagnosis, but it’s not an excuse, I know.’
‘Ah, Xander, I’m sorry. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.’
He nods, his eyes laser-focused on the road.
‘It’s also why at that party I’d said that what happened between us was—’
He swallows, the regret clear in his expression.
‘Anyway, I remember that was a pretty rough night for me, I’d spent hours looking for her because the carer had forgotten to lock the door and she’d got out with no one knowing where she went. I’ve never been good at apologies, but I realise I never said sorry for what happened. You aren’t a mistake. You never were.’
His words fill me with understanding. Yes, what he said that night was hurtful, but it was his own pain that caused him to lash out at those around him. My heart aches for what he was going through. From what little he’s said of his family on the drive so far, it sounds like he was pretty isolated, with no one to comfort him.
At my silence, Xander carries on.
‘She only passed away a few weeks ago, actually.’
‘Oh.’
I glance down at my lap.
‘I’m sorry. Were you close?’
‘Yeah.’
He presses his lips together, staring ahead.
‘Very. But in some ways, it’s brought my family closer. Not my parents, but parts of my family. Which has been nice…’
He looks thoughtful. There’s a delicate trust in the car now and I don’t want to interrupt it, so I stay quiet.
Suddenly, he laughs again.
‘In fairness, I probably was hungover that morning too. Drowning my sorrows and all that.’
I laugh and let him know that, given the circumstances, he’s forgiven.
Before we know it, the hills of Snowdonia are stretching out before us. I gasp at the sight. Lush, green mountains that clamber higher and higher so that their peaks are hidden in the clouds. The game has brought us closer than either of us had expected. It hits me that the rest of the trip might be different, better even, the realisation dousing me like cold water. We might see each other in a different light. Not work rivals or whatever we were at those disastrous parties, just people. A boy and a girl. Maybe, just maybe, this trip won’t be as terrible as I had thought.