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Normal like the friends I made sitting here at this table.
“You’re full of it,” Lucas claims, side-eying Xavier with a smirk before pulling the cheese off the pizza with his teeth.
“And you’re gross,” he spits back venomless, but this only urges Lucas to prove his point.
Amani winces. “Why am I even friends with a bunch of boys, I swear—”
Her words get clipped the moment Xavier’s pocket buzzes violently.
He groans, fishing out his phone. “If this is my cousin sending another reel about a Kickstarter, I’m going to…”
He stops. Words dying mid-air.
A strange stillness snaps over him, and his face drains of color so fast it leaves him looking carved from chalk. He stares at the screen without blinking, and the longer he looks, the stiller he gets.
My grip tightens around my soda. I watch the way his jaw clenches, the slight tremor in his hand, the way he swallows like something sharp is lodged in his throat.
“Xavier? What’s wrong?” Amani notes.
He flinches at her voice, breaking free from whatever spell the message has on him.
“Nothing,” he blurts way too fast. He locks his phone immediately, clutching it so tightly his knuckles blanch. “It’s nothing.”
“Geez, man, the fuck’s wrong with you?” Lucas blurts, furrowing his brows at the sight of his best friend.
Before any of them can process the state of him, he shoots up from the booth. The table wobbles under the sudden jolt, nearly tipping over the parmesan shaker. Lucas’s eyes flare, cocking back his head. “Dude. What the hell got into you?”
Xavier shakes his head hard, stapling on a weary smile. “I-I just need to handle something. Family stuff.”
“Are you okay?” Amani asks, her voice dipping into that careful tone she uses when she senses someone's in trouble.
“Yes,” he replies, too quickly again. “Yeah. Totally. It’s fine.”
Before anyone can push, he mutters something like “I’ll text you” and turns on his heel. In his rush, he clips the corner of a chair and nearly sends a metal stand of menus crashing. He mumbles a curse, rights it clumsily, and bolts for the door.
The bell above it jingles eerily cheerfully as he disappears into the street.
Lucas mutters, “The fuck was that about?” Yet shrugs it off, but a hint of worry lingers in his eyes. It’s not like Xavier to act that way, never mind storming off so hurriedly. That’s more Lucas’s style.
Amani frowns after him, chewing her bottom lip. “I hope everything’s okay,” she murmurs. Her voice dips, soft but edged with worry. “What if a family member is hurt?”
Lucas snorts, shoving a crust into his mouth. More to keep himself busy than from actual hunger. “Why would you assume someone in his family is hurt?”
I don’t even bother hiding the glare. My foot shoots out under the table and kicks him in the shin. Hard enough to make a point, not hard enough to cripple him. “Are you deaf?” I mutter. “He literally said it was a family matter.”
I know he’s dense, but fuck.
Lucas winces, rubbing his leg. “Still. You don’t- ugh, whatever.”
Amani clicks her tongue at him. She lifts her cup, slides the straw between her lips, and drains the rest of her soda with the kind of slow, pointed sip that doubles as a scolding. Lucas huffs once more, an exhale full of grudging concern he’s pretending isn’t concern.
“I’ll message him later,” he mutters. “I’ll check up on him. Make sure he didn’t walk into traffic or something.”
My eyes cut back to the entrance.
Xavier’s nerves linger in the air, twitching like static, but I roll my shoulders and let the tension bleed out. My hand finds the camera bag, fingers grazing the fabric as if coaxing a current. Normality fractures, and this behavior is new. Regardless, I file the incident away and turn back to grab the last slice of pizza.
It’s probably nothing.
