There was a beat. I saw the hesitation in Xavi’s face. Until now, I had always thought he was selfish and lazy and enjoyed making other people do all of the work. But I knew him better already during this short time, and I interpreted what I saw on his face now differently.
He was afraid that if he tried, he would fail. Afraid that he wasn’t good enough. Afraid of making a fool out of himself – and stuck in the misconception that it was safer not to try.
“What am I supposed to do to help?” he asked, a helpless whine in his voice.
Someone had to be firm with him. Someone had to tell him and not let him off the hook. Not just for the good of those around him who would benefit from the change, but for his own self-esteem. “You told me your friends look down on you as being a certain type of way.”
“A stupid, slutty bitch,” Xavi said, repeating what seemed to be a mantra he’d taken into his own head.
“Then change that,” I told him. I put my hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes. I held him and supported him even as I told him what he needed to do if he was ever going to change. “Help them. Go out of your way to help your friends for no reason other than that you don’t want them to be upset. Show them how smart and helpful and motivated and determined you can be.”
Xavi’s lower lip wobbled for just one second. It was a tell I’d gotten to know. A sign that he was so deeply unsure of himself, that he didn’t even know how to move forward – except by falling back on spite and sarcasm and meanness. “What if I’m not any of those things?”
“You are,” I told him. “I know you are. You’re smart enough to snap back whenever anyone challenges you. I’ve seen the determination it takes you not to do your job sometimes. And look at this weekend – at how hard you’ve been trying to convince everyone. You have it in you. You just have to try.”
Xavi bit his lip. He looked up at me. I could see he wanted to. He wanted me to push him. To tell him he had to do this. To not give him a choice to be a coward and go and sit down like it had nothing to do with him.
“I’ll be with you,” I said. “We’ve got to go now.”
Xavi swallowed. But I saw the moment the look in his eyes changed.
He was with me.
“I think I know who we’re looking for,” he said and turned and marched back towards the table where we’d been sitting.
Xavi
I rushed to Brody and grabbed him by the lapel of his stupid leather jacket, hauling him to his feet.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, grabbing at my hand as if to push me off.
“Come with me. Now,” I hissed at him, not waiting for him to answer. I pulled him along behind me, and somehow – maybe because of his guilty conscience – he came. I was vaguely aware of Ace getting up and scrambling to follow us, but I didn’t care.
Maybe he’d see his boyfriend for what he really was and always had been – an asshole – and I could stop worrying about him being taken while I was still single.
“What the hell?” Brody asked as we moved past Rowe and out of the doors, out into the hall where fewer people could see or hear us. Rowe followed – I heard his cane tapping on the floor – and by the time I wheeled around to jab my finger in Brody’s face, he was right there alongside me.
“You,” I hissed. “Where’s the paint?”
Brody stared at me, then pushed me away from him with a look of disgust. “Are you drunk?”
“No, I’m not drunk!” I protested. This wasn’t supposed to be about me. I hated him for turning it around like that. Who were people expected to believe – reformed asshole Brody, or fuck-up Xavi Mendez? “I’ve had one glass of champagne. Where are you hiding the paint? Just tell me now, and we can avoid any ugliness.”
“Um, Xavi,” Rowe said, but I was staring at Brody, waiting for him to fold and come clean. The implications were just rattling through my mind, starting to become realizations. He was in love with Cade, still, after all this time – and yet he was with Ace! How could he be that much of an asshole, walking all over a second person’s heart as well?
“I haven’t got any paint,” Brody said. He turned to Ace with an exasperated gesture. “Do you have any idea what he’s going on about?”
“No,” Ace said, his voice as brittle as thin ice. “Unless this is just another one of his plays for attention.”
I scoffed. “Come on,” I said. “I know it’s you, Brody. You never really got over him, did you? Or what being known as his asshole ex did to your life. Look at you. You couldn’t even be bothered to get dressed up. Who wears a leather jacket to a formal wedding? And how could you do this to Ace?”
“Xavi,” Rowe said, tugging at my arm.
“I spilled coffee all over my suit jacket first thing this morning,” Brody snapped. “I didn’t have anything else with me. I was supposed to be in a suit!”
“Xavi!” Rowe said, his voice cutting through loud enough that all three of us stopped and looked at him. “I’m trying to tell you. The ex we’re looking for is awoman.”
I stared at him blankly. “But Cade’s never dated women,” I said. “He always says he knew he was gay early enough that he didn’t bother to try it.”
