Eleven Eleven

Paradise City

I avoided Mason Carter like the plague. My sole purpose coming along on this trip was to help Xander, and opening up to a boy I'd met only a couple times was far from it.

My best friend kept me at arms length himself. The boy eager to have me nearby had disappeared, one desperate to keep his new found feelings bottled up in his place. Meeting the boys in the cafe for breakfast, my eyes were on Xander in seconds. His hair was a dark disheveled mess, the heavy bags under his eyes a good indication he had slept as well as I had last night. His flushed skin gleamed with sweat, the florescent light hanging over us adding to the heat emitting from the kitchen to my back.

"Mornin'." Ryan saluted me. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like crap. How about you?" I mumbled, lurching forward at the sight of a tall glass of ice water in the center of the table. I touched the condensation, watching a droplet slide down the side of the glass as I awaited Ryan's answer.

"Like a baby." he flashed me a grin. "This heat is killing me though. I had to sleep in nothing but boxers."

The left side of my mouth curled into a smile. "Somehow I don't think you mind that too much."

He chuckled, the sudden sound of glass shattering breaking our small talk. Xander's hand was still halfway off the table, a small gap in his chapped, pale lips as he stared at the cup he'd accidentally swatted off the table.

"I'll pick it up." I said quickly, pushing away from the end of the table. I knelt at Xander's feet on the other side of the refined dining table, plucking the larger shards of glass between my index finger and thumb before tossing them up on to a plate.

I felt a hand catch my wrist after picking up the last of the shards visible to the naked eye. "Willow."

I lifted my head slowly and met Xander's blue eyes.

"I could have done it myself." he assured.

"You couldn't. You can barely walk, Xan-Alex." I felt warmth creep up my neck and spread throughout my cheeks in embarrassment.

For a millisecond, I thought he might open up about what happened last night, but the thought had dissipated just as quickly as it appeared. Instead, he broke eye contact and stared distantly over my shoulder. It didn't take me long to come to the conclusion that the waiter was on his way to the table. Rising, I kept my head down and sat back at the end of the table, wishing desperately for a giant black hole to open beneath my chair and pull me under.

*

It was easy to imagine the beach as a serene paradise. I'd be alone with my thoughts on the shore, my toes deep in the damp sand, my fingers tracing my name in front of me as the waves crashed along the shore, a misty breeze ruffling my hair.

Staring out the RV window, I found the daydream the clearest image I'd had all morning. After breakfast, Jack had made a reappearance at the table and offered the six of us a day at the beach. The most I could do was laugh without emotion.

Did he honestly believe a little disguise was all it would take to repel fangirls?

These girls lived and breathed ELEVEN ELEVEN. They knew things about the boys that I couldn't even begin to imagine asking in person. A haircut or a new shirt and jeans wasn't enough to change the boys to a point beyond recognition. Rather than give my father the feedback he needed, I let him go along with his plan in hopes it might blow up in his face.

It made me sound sadistic and cruel, to wish ill on my father. But there was still a big part of me, a scar over my heart, that held the fact that he hadn't been there for the last fourteen years over his head and would continue to for as long as we shared each others company. Though there may come a day where I find it in my heart to forgive him, I won't ever forget the feeling of abandonment that still sat heavily in my heart anytime I looked into his eyes and saw my three year old self reflected in them.