The following week I return to school. I'm not sure what I was expecting. Somehow I feared the entire school would know why I was absent in the first place, and everything else that had been going on.

But my fears are misguided, as the world does not revolve around me and everyone has their own lives to worry about. Despite this, I still get asked why I was gone for so long, and having not thought of a reasonable excuse to tell people, I come up with a lie on the spot.

"I was shopping on Fifth Avenue when I saw the cutest Birkin bag in the window at Saks. I rushed across the street to get a closer look and got hit by a taxi. New York traffic am I right?"

Everyone laughs at my story, including myself. Next to me, Vienna laughs the loudest, probably because she knows it's complete bullshit.

"Did you get the bag?" Tiffany asks.

I shake my head. "Ugh, no. It wasn't even worth getting hit over."

"Ouch," Hannah whistles. Chloe pouts.

"I'm so mad you can't play in finals. We need you girl."

"Believe me, I'm just as upset as you are."

Vienna interrupts. "Yeah that's sad and all, but what about me? I can't paint or draw anything with this stupid sprained wrist. It just had to be my right hand."

Naomi furrows her brow. "How did you sprain your wrist again?"

"Uh, I was following Kennedy across the street to see the bag as well and I too got hit by a car."

"So you both got hit by cars?"

"Well actually, I managed to dodge the taxi. Kennedy wasn't so lucky. Still, I tripped and tried to use my hands to soften the fall. Obviously that didn't work out."

Tiffany shakes her head. "This is why I only wear Givenchy handbags."

We all laugh and I insert a spoonful of yogurt in my mouth. Just then I spot Gabriel pass by our table. His head is down and he walks quickly. I stand up abruptly.

"I'll be right back guys," I say. Before anyone can respond I rush after him.

"Gabriel!" I shout. "Gabriel wait up!" At this rate it might take four months for my vocal cords to heal.

His footsteps quicken, and I am not surprised by this. For once it's the other way around. Now he's the one ignoring me. Unfortunately for him, I'm not one to give up easily, and I catch up to him.

"Gabriel," I pant, out of breath. "Hey wait, stop. Talk to me."

I didn't think he would, but his footsteps halt and he turns to me. Woah. He looks like crap. There are huge, dark circles under his eyes, his eyes themselves are bloodshot, his lips are chapped and cracked, and his hair is a mess, and not in the sexy way either. More like he hasn't seen or comb or brush in years.

"Are you okay?" I ask carefully.

He laughs bitterly. "What do you think?"

I sigh. "I'm sorry, that was a stupid question."

Gabriel crosses his arms and regards me cooly. "Maybe I should be the one asking if you're okay. After all, my dad did try and kill you."

I flinch.

He shakes his head and runs a tired hand down his face. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay," I bite my lip. "I know you're going through a lot."

"What am I supposed to do Kennedy?" Gabriel's cool demeanor slips and his voice cracks. I feel my heart break for him. "How am I supposed to to deal with this? My family is falling apart. My mom is a mess," he blinks, and I can tell he's holding back tears. "How could my father to this to us?"

I wish I had an answer for him, but I don't. The human mind is beyond our meager understanding.

"I'm sorry Gabriel," I whisper softly. "I'm so so sorry."

I step forward and wrap my arms around him a hug. At first he stands stiffly, then slowly hugs me back.

"I'm sorry too Kennedy. I'm sorry for the damage my father caused."

He pulls back and takes a deep breath. "I have no idea why I even came to school today. I guess I needed to find some sense of normalcy in all this madness...and I don't think I could handle being at home anymore."

"I get it," I nod in understanding. "I can't imagine how difficult this is for you."

Gabriel looks like he wants to ask me something, but hesitates. Finally he blurts it out. "Will you come with me to his first trial hearing? It's next week..."

My eyes widen. There are several reasons why I absolutely do not want to go to this hearing, the most glaringly obvious one being the man tried to kill me. And although I truly do empathize with Gabriel, I still want to see his father get the justice he deserves. AKA I want to see him rot in prison. Secondly, he hurt my friends and stole from my boyfriends company—and as a direct result, caused them to lose the Hudson Deal. Not to mention he blew away a quarter million on gambling and prostitutes.

I purse my lips. "Gabriel, I really don't think that's appropriate." For several obvious reasons.

Gabriel sneers. "Of course. I should have known you'd take your boyfriends side," he says the word boyfriend in contempt.

I step back in shock. "Excuse me? I'm not on anyone's side. And are you really that dense that I have to spell out for you why I don't want to be there?"

"You don't have to spell anything out when it's so obvious," Gabriel snaps. "Winston doesn't care about you. All he cares about is that stupid company of his and their image, no matter whose life he has to ruin to maintain it. You're nothing more to him than a pretty toy to play with. Eventually he'll get bored and discard you like trash."

I'm floored. I have no idea where these wild accusations are coming from, and how we went from talking about his fathers trial to my relationship. I try to remain calm and not snap, because I know Gabriel is speaking from a place of anger and hurt. But he's way out of line.

"Gabriel-" I try to speak but he cuts me off.

"You know what? You were right Kennedy. It's better if we just stay out of each other's way. You live your life and I'll live mine."

With that he turns and storms off. I stand there in shock. What the hell just happened? The bell for class rings just as the girls come up behind me.

"Ew," Hannah wrinkles her nose. "Why were you talking to that creep?"

I stare after his retreating figure. "It doesn't matter anymore."

...

The week passes by in a blur after that Monday. I busy myself with organizing the blood and canned food drives. It is the holidays after all, and just because we've taken some losses doesn't mean we shouldn't give back to the community and those in need. At the very least, it keeps me on my feet.

I really haven't spoke to Winston much since that night he came over to visit besides sporadic texts. He's busy and dealing with a lot. I get that. But as much as I try to be understanding of the situation, I can't help but feel a little neglected. I really don't want to be the needy girlfriend, but he could at least call or something. Plus, Gabriel's words keep playing in my head the longer we don't talk. He's wrong. I know he's wrong. But it's easy for doubt to creep in when we haven't had a real conversation in almost a week.

That weekend Cecilia and I make plans to catch up and have dinner, but at the very last second she has to cancel. So that's how I end up sitting alone at a restaurant, sipping water since I can't drink and feeling lonely and pathetic. This is a new low, even for me.

The waiter comes up to me again, wearing a sympathetic expression. He probably thinks I was stood up, which technically I was.

"Are we still waiting for your company to arrive Miss?"

I set my glass down. "Actually can you just bring the check please?"

"Of course Miss," He nods and walks away. I pull out my wallet to leave him a generous tip when a throat clears beside me. I look up. Xavier stands there, dressed in a standard black suit and tie. I assume they're his work clothes.

"Fancy meeting into you here," he grins.

I hold back a groan. Is New York really this small that I keep running into him?

"I wish I could say the same," I reply. "What are you doing here?"

"I just finished up a meeting with a client," he replies. "What are you doing here?" He looks at my glass and raises a brow. "Drinking water I might add."

I shrug. "I was supposed to have dinner with a friend, but they couldn't make it. Also I can't drink. Doctors orders."

"Right," he nods and pulls out the chair across from mine, taking a seat. My lips pull down in a frown.

"What are you doing?"

"Having a nice chat with a friend."

"We are not friends. We're barely acquaintances."

"I beg to differ," he replies with a cocky smirk. "And as your friend, I can update you about the embezzlement case. I assume you've been kept out of the loop."

I cross my arms. He's wrong, but I won't tell him that. "Actually, that's the last thing I want to talk about now."

Xavier looks surprised, but smiles anyway. "That's fine. We can talk about whatever you want."

"Or we could not talk at all."

The waiter returns with my check, looking surprised to see Xavier sitting there before his face morphs into confusion. I smile sweetly.

"He's not the one I was waiting for, don't worry. I'll still take the check."

"Oh. Of course miss."

After I pay, I stand up to leave. To my displeasure, Xavier does the same, and follows me all the way out the door and onto the street.

"You know stalking is a crime," I stand by the curb, waiting for Charles to pick me up.

"It isn't stalking if the company is wanted."

"And what gave you the impression that I wanted your company?"

Xavier shrugs. "I don't know. You seemed sad, sitting at that table all by yourself."

I turn to him. "Why would you think that?" I ask sharply.

He holds up his hands. "Relax. I didn't mean it as an insult. I just meant that you looked like you could use a friend."

My eyes narrow. I'm not sure what I dislike more, him, or the fact that's he's right. I really could use a friend right now. I'd call Vienna, but she's currently grounded and under strict house arrest, with zero phone privileges. Plus since Danny showed up to the hospital, she had to tell her parents about him. As you can imagine, they weren't too happy and it hardly helped her case. Now I only see her at school.

"Look, why don't we hang out or something?" Xavier suggests. When I give him a look he quickly adds, "Just as friends, nothing more. We could do something fun and non-strenuous so as not to worsen your injuries, like see a movie."

"A movie?" I repeat.

"Yeah. How about that Harley Quinn one, Birds of Prey?"

I cross my arms. "Really? You'd wanna watch that?"

"Hell yeah. I'm all about empowered, badass females," he grins.

I roll my eyes. Still, I consider his offer. And maybe it's because I'm feeling lonely and vulnerable, but I actually agree.

"Fine. We can go. But just as friends."

Xavier grins. "Great. Come on, I'll drive."

I pull out my phone to text Charles about the change of plans before following Xavier to his car.

God I hope I don't regret this.

...

The entire theater groans when Harley misses the shot, but then cheers when Black Mask gets blown to pieces instead.

"I love that girl," I say, referring to Cassandra

"She reminds me of you," Xavier replies. "Minus the pick pocketing of course."

"Really? What makes you say that?" I ask curiously.

"Well she's smart, spunky, and fierce, just like you."

I try to hide it, but I end up smiling anyway and Xavier smiles back.

The movie comes to an end and I have to admit, I actually enjoyed myself. "Admit it," Xavier says as we walk out of the theater. "You had a good time."

"I'll admit nothing," I reply casually. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That's okay. I know anyway."

"Again, don't know what you're talking about."

We argue back and forth on the ride home, but I'm actually not as annoyed as I thought I would be. When he drops me off I turn to him before stepping out of the car.

"Thanks. For tonight I mean. I'm not saying I had a good time but it was...tolerable."

Xavier laughs. "You're welcome."

"Well I guess I'll see you around," I open the door and step outside, slamming it shut. He waves before driving off. I stand and watch his car disappear up the street, a small smile playing on my face.

Then I'm alone again.

Signing I turn and trudge up to my building. On my way up I realize how late it is and how tired I am. It's been a long day. Back in my room I go through my usual bedtime routine before climbing under the covers. As I lay in bed, I open up my messages with Winston. The last time we 'talked' was five days ago. I sent him a text asking how he was doing, and all he responded with was 'fine.' He didn't even ask how I was doing. We haven't spoken since. Maybe I'm being selfish, but I have feelings too and right now they're hurt.

Signing, I set my phone on the nightstand and click on my lights until they're teal. Eventually I drift off, even the memory of Winston barely keeping me warm now.

...