Page 21 of Heartstrings
In an attempt to mask a snicker, Xander coughed. “No, like with a bow and arrow.”
“Archery?” I didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but it wasn’t the most common of pastimes. The only people I knew who could use a bow were fictional characters like Katniss Everdeen, and I had a feeling that didn’t count. “How does one get involved in such an obscure sport?” I paused, then added, “It is a sport, right?”
“Considering it’s an event at the Olympics? Yes, definitely,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. “I have pretty bad asthma, so I struggled with athletics as a kid. I tried all the asthma-friendly activities like baseball, golf, et cetera, but the truth is I was terrible at everything. Then my doctor recommended archery, which I thought sounded badass, so I gave it a try. Surprisingly enough, I’m a decent shot.”
“Do you hunt animals?” I asked. I couldn’t help but think about Marshmallow, the French lop rabbit I had growing up.
“No, I only do competitive archery. Basically, you shoot arrows at a target from a set distance. You’re judged on accuracy. No killing involved.”
As he said this, a new image popped into my head, and I pressed a hand against my mouth to smoother the sound of my laughter.
“What?”
“I may or may not be picturing you as Legolas right now,” I admitted.
“Not sure I could pull off the whole flowing blond locks thing he’s got going on,” Xander said. “Besides, Legolas killed plenty of people.”
“Yeah, but only the bad guys. Not adorable, fluffy bunnies.”
“Fair enough, but—”
Xander was cut off by a sudden swell of “Happy Birthday to You,” the voices of twenty or so ten-year-olds muffling the background noise of the playground. We both turned toward the party. A picnic blanket had been spread out on the grass, and at its center sat Spider-Man with a large pile of gifts.
As the song came to an end, something—a realization or maybe an idea—lit up in Xander’s eyes. He jerked his head in my direction. “Hey, are you free next Saturday?”
His question was simple, but it made me pause. “Um,” I said, wetting my lips. “My best friend and I are going thrift shopping for our Halloween costumes.” Which was sort of true. Sofia and I had discussed swinging by Deals ’N’ Steals, the local resale store, but we never made concrete plans. “Why, what’s up?”
“I’m throwing a surprise party for Alec.”
“What for? His birthday was in May.”
“Yeah, I know. This is to celebrate his new record label. Thought you might be interested.”
Letting out a huge breath, I silently laughed at myself.Jeez, Indie. Assumption, much?At first, when Xander asked about Saturday, my brain jumped to the ridiculous image of us on a date. But this explanation, an invitation to a party because of my friendship with Alec, made so much more sense.
Xander cleared his throat. “I know this is a bit last minute, but I’d love to hang out with you again.”
My entire body stiffened.
It wasn’t that I was opposed to spending more time with Xander. He was easy to talk to. Even better, he didn’t care that I was related to Violet, whereas most people I met were more interested in talking about her than getting to know me.
But those words—I’d love to hang out with you again.
Why did he have to say something like that? One simple statement, and I was analyzing an afternoon’s worth of interactions. Was this a you’re-cool-but-we’re-just-friends hangout or an I-like-you-let’s-see-where-this-goes kind of thing? Because here was the fact of the matter: guys like Xander Jones dated supermodels and movie stars. They weren’t interested in chubby nobodies like me, so the possibility of something happening between us never crossed my mind.
“I’d like that too, but I shouldn’t cancel,” I replied, avoiding his gaze. “Sofia’s life is pretty much consumed by babysitting her siblings, so she doesn’t often get Saturdays off. Thanks for the invite though.”
“Yeah, of course,” he said, and the kindness in his voice made my chest prickle with shame. Lying to Xander felt awful, but better I feel guilty now than end up with a broken heart down the road. “I totally understand.”
To this, I said nothing. Silence settled between us, so I fished my phone out of my backpack and checked my messages to avoid any awkwardness. When I noticed how many notifications I’d racked up—twelve texts, three missed calls, and a voicemail—I groaned.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Violet. She’s pissed I bailed,” I said, showing him a small portion of her messages. Pissed was the understatement of the year.
Xander flinched as his gaze slid over the texts. “Yikes. That’s a lot of expletives. If you need to get back, don’t let me keep you.”
“You sure?” I asked, even though I had no intention of tracking down my sister. She was, however, the perfect excuse to leave. “I’d feel bad ditching you.”
