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"You can't start the next chapter if you keep rereading the last." - Unknown.

Dedication: Callthecops for the awesome cover on the side - thank you!

Recap:

I didn't reply. He brushed past me and I turned. He strode towards Megan, who I hadn't realised was here, and grabbed her hand. He glanced back at me, a smirk planted on his lips. I felt my nails biting into my flesh.

I was genuinely surprised at the tsunami of anger that poured through my body at this. I think it was a build-up of the party, the drugs, Jacob and now her. Of course he would go for her, she was gorgeous. It hurt me to think of them together, after everything she has done to me. I felt the sudden urge to scream. Turning, I stomped up my stairs.

I wish this night never happened.

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The sound of an engine roaring woke me up from my almost-coma-like state.

My head was pounding from last night's alcohol consumption and my stomach was already churning uncomfortably. With a groan, I rolled to my side and checked the time. It was only 7:00am. Who on earth would be at my house this early?

Begrudgingly, I pulled myself from my bed and began muttering disgruntled words on my way down the hall. I stomped down my winding staircase. After wrenching the door open and being semi-blinded by the fierceness of the sun, my eyes adjusted to a shiny, black motorcycle which was now planted on my driveway. My eyes narrowed instantly as they landed on the back of the boy who lead me to drink so much last night.

"What the hell are you doing?" I called out, wincing at the hoarse tone of my voice.

"What does it look like Sweetcheeks? I bought a motorbike."

Marching towards him, I didn't stop until we were mere metres a part. I folded my arms across my chest, feeling over exposed in just my baggy T-shirt. I felt the hair on my arms stand as he turned, facing me and the air nip at my exposed legs.

"I thought you were saving money, which is why you haven't paid my insurance." The last words were laced with as much resentment and bitterness I could muster. Which was a lot.

He shrugged. "I got over saving."

My teeth were grinding together by this point. "You owe me for not shutting down the party last night and I want my car back!"

"Oh please," he rolled his eyes, leaning back against his bike. "You had fun last night."

I stared at him for a moment, a little surprised. He said the word 'fun' like it was a cuss word. Was he annoyed that I got with Jacob? Or am I just reading too much into this for no particular reason? I don't want him to care. I don't want me to care whether he cares.

"Not as much as you, clearly."

"Are you going to have a problem with everything I do?"

"If they're stupid things that affect me, yes." I responded flatly.

"That's unfortunate. For you."

"I hate you." I sighed, closing my eyes.

"No you don't."

The most annoying thing was that he was right. I don't hate him, despite how frustrating he is. Turning my back to him, I stormed back towards the house, angrier now than I had been before. I should have guessed it would be Xavier.

I didn't hesitate to face plant uncomfortably on my bed. I decided that I would stay like this until further notice.

Xavier needs to be taught a lesson.

***

After finally managing to drag myself out of bed for the second time today and actually showering, I felt better. When I wandered downstairs, Xavier was gone. I took the opportunity to do some snooping. After creeping through the house as if I was breaking in and coming to the conclusion he had definitely left and there were no traps to walk into, I slipped into his room.

With my hands planted on my hips, I swept my eyes around. The room was surprisingly neat. His room was mainly navy and white, tempting me to go out and buy a sailor's hat.

His bed was unmade and he had various surf magazines scattered across the end of his mattress, but that's not what caught my eye. I wandered towards his desk, where there were various thick notepads. I abruptly sat down and began going through them. What I saw shocked me. Drawings upon drawings filled the pages. He was actually good. Really good.

My mouth was dangling open unattractively as my fingers delicately walked over the pages. It was random drawings ranging from old houses, random patterns, to the beach. There wasn't exactly a trend I could follow, I think he just drew anything that came to mind. But wow, he was talented. I wish had a cool skill like this.

I kept flicking through the pages, my eyes drinking in everything. I flicked to one of the last drawings and my fingers paused. I stared down at a drawing of me. An amazing drawing of me. Every feature of my face was highlighted and I looked better in the drawing than I do in real life. My jaw was sitting on the floor by now.

Xavier drew me? This whole thing was so unexpected and bizarre. I was starting to realise I really don't know a thing about the boy living with me.

"What are you doing in my room?"

I leapt about a meter in the air, my heart threatening to jump outside my chest. I whirled around breathlessly, panic rushing through my abdomen. His eyes were narrowed and his body rigid. His tone was colder than ice. Xavier was always joking around, so seeing this side to him was a little scary.

"Er-I-umm," I stammered like an idiot, hastily dropping the book back onto the desk and stepped away, as if that act would make me seem somehow less guilty.

"So you think you can just come into my room and go through my things whenever you feel like it, Faith?"

When he said Faith and not Faithless or Sweetcheeks, I flinched involuntarily. Swallowing uneasily, I realised I was a total hypocrite. I would be completely furious if he did this to me.

"You would do the same to me if I didn't have a lock on my room."

"I wouldn't go through your personal belongings." he spat, his fists clenched by his side.

I opted for changing the subject. In attempt to be smooth, I leaned back against the desk nonchalantly.

"Why don't you show people how good you can draw?"

"It's none of their business." he said bitterly, glaring at me.

"But you're good. Like really, really good."

His expression softened slightly and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't reply. I softly bit my lip and picked up the book, suddenly not feeling nervous anymore.

"I really like the one you drew of me."

I glanced up and his face was flushed. He seemed so cocky and confident usually, seeing him embarrassed was odd. He rubbed the back of his neck. It was possibly the most adorable thing I have ever seen in my life. I mentally slapped myself. I don't like him and I don't find him 'adorable'. Maybe I'm still drunk from last night? Yeah, that must be it.

He strode towards me and gently pried the book from my hands. He looked down at his own work. The way he stared at it made my heart clench. He looked so fond and proud of what he had done. I had a scarily strange urge to hug him. I find the urge disturbing and wrong, like watching a kid get in trouble from their parents. You feel bad for them but can't look away.

"May I have it?" I asked quietly.

He stared at me in silence for a few moments. Without a word, he tore it out and placed the paper in my hand. I smiled at him, feeling genuinely impressed with him right now. At first glance, Xavier looked anything but a boy who likes to slow dance and draw. I suppose he was making me re-think stereotypes.

"Thank you." I said earnestly, running my fingertips over my drawn face. Brushing past him, I headed towards his door.

I almost made it out but paused, sighing.

"Sorry for going through your stuff." I mumbled, the words getting stuck in my throat. Apologies were not my strong point.

"What was that?" he asked with a smirk.

I glowered at him, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. I pronounced the words excruciatingly slow, so he got the point. "I'm sorry."

"I'd appreciate you not doing it again, Faithless." His words were strong but his tone forgiving. He rolled his eyes, his smirk growing as he made me repeat myself. I bit the inside of my cheek as his nickname for me coming back almost immediately. Although he purposely made me apologise twice, I wasn't really angry. With a small smile on my face, I exited the room, feeling mixed emotions about what just happened.

Xavier was full of surprises.

***

"He is annoying."

"But it's going okay?" Dad asked me curiously.

I exhaled. "Yes it's fine but he is still annoying."

"You haven't hurt him yet, have you?" he chuckled and a slight smile danced around my lips. I reclined further back into my pillows, shifting so that I was more comfortable. I glanced down at my nails, deciding I needed to repaint them again.

"Not yet."

"Good girl. I've transferred some money to your account to pay for your car. Tell Xavier not to sweat it."

"No! Make him pay for driving like an idiot!" It wasn't until my voice was booming that I realised I was yelling in the first place. I cleared my throat and calmed down. "I mean - he did drive into my car and then wasted the money he was meant to be saving on a motorbike and you're just going to let him get away with it?"

"He's paying me rent. He will pretty much have paid it anyway. I'm not his father, I don't have the right to punish him."

"Don't defend this criminal!"

"He's not a criminal," he laughed and I just knew he was rolling his eyes. "How's school been anyway? And work?"

"Both lame. How about you?"

"Very long, very tiring and very dirty but it's not too bad. Wish I was home with you though."

"You could be," I muttered, playing with a loose thread in my shorts.

He either didn't hear or just chose to ignore me. I vote ignoring me. "Have you been eating?"

"Nah I heard anorexia is really in right now."

"Faith."

"Of course dad, two minute noodles and toast are going just fine."

"Faith."

I rolled my eyes. "The mines have changed you father. You have no sense of humour."

He laughed again. "Just make sure you keep yourself nice and healthy, okay? I have to go. I'll talk to you soon and please, don't give Xavier too hard of a time."

"No promises."

"I'm trusting you. I love you."

"Love you too."

The line went dead and I let my eyes drift close.

"It's sweet that your dad cares about me," Xavier sighed, leaning on the door frame. I stared at him for a moment. His light, carefree tone seemed a little too forced. "Not making me pay for your car and all."

"You're not getting away with it."

"Sweetcheeks, I already have." he smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

This boy was infuriating. We go from arguing about insurance, to having a slight heart-to-heart about him drawing me, to him being frustrating and annoying again. He was more up and down than the roller coaster's at dream world. Or maybe I was the up and down one?

I was physically grinding my teeth together by this point. He gave me an arrogant smirk before slithering away like he does. Since I had eaten, showered and brushed my teeth, I was feeling a lot better and more human. I needed to focus my energy on something "positive" otherwise I may slip into my rage black-out phase again. Throwing my blankets back, I marched towards my cupboard and withdrew my gym clothes.

Dad converted one of the spare rooms into a mini gym for us a couple months back. It was a method I had grown accustomed to, to prevent my anger getting out of hand. Whenever I felt annoyed or angry, I was supposed to do some really intense work outs to pour my negative energy into something that will eventually lead to positive energy. At the start I didn't really enjoy it but now that I was both stronger and fitter, I do.

"Oh you didn't tell me we were hitting up the gym." Xavier said excitedly, his eyes lighting up.

"That's because 'we're' not."

I turned to point him towards the door and froze. Tantalisingly slow, he pulled his shirt over his head. My mouth fell open as my eyes drank in his body. My eyes were wandering over his naked torso until I saw jagged scars running across the left side of his chest. He threw his shirt off the side of the room and began stretching, his muscles flexing deliciously.

"What happened to your chest?" The words tumbled from my mouth before I realised they were going to. That was rude but I was curious.

He flinched at my words, glancing down at his chest, as though having forgot they were there in the first place. Immediately, he spun on his heel and stormed from the room. The door slammed shut behind him and I jumped. I shouldn't have pried like that. Just like I shouldn't have gone into his room when he wasn't home. How else was I going to find out things about him though?

No. I don't have to feel sorry for him. He would do just the same to me. With that decided, I shook Xavier from my mind and mounted the treadmill. Just as I started a fast-paced walk, Xavier re-emerged into the room, a sports singlet now covering the purple scars that ran across his chest. He stared at the ground as he went over to the weights corner.

I felt like I should apologise but I didn't. Instead, I increased my pace. A grim smile found its way onto my face as I felt the cool sweat form on my forehead. I felt the numb feeling spread through my veins like poison as my anger fuelled into determination.

We both did our work outs in silence and I was grateful for it. It didn't even bother me that he was seeing me covered in sweat and panting like I had just ran a marathon. He was a gym-junkie like me and understood. I saw him come toward me in my peripheral vision but I refused to acknowledge him.

Without warning, he turned off the treadmill, the belt coming to a slow stop. I exhaled slowly, pivoting to face him.

"Do you mind?"

"You're running wrong."

Clearly, we were going to ignore the 'scars on chest' thing. The more he ignores my question about it, the more I'll want to know.

He stepped onto the belt behind me. I sucked in a slight breath of surprise as his fingertips brushed my side, all thoughts of his scars evaporating from my mind. He snaked his arms around so that his palms were resting on my rising chest.

"You need to run with your head high, chest out and legs up." His words were a murmur, his hot breath fanning my neck. I felt a cold shiver spike down my spine at his proximity. Excruciatingly slow, he ran his fingertips down my sides. My heart rate was soaring and I could feel the palms of my hands were clammy. I hated that he had this effect on me. "Don't put so much pressure on the heels of your feet."

"Thanks sir, duelly noted." I snipped back, wanting nothing more than him step away from me so my breathing could regain normality again. Think of his scars, don't think about him touching you.

A slight chuckle left him and he thankfully stepped back from me. I rested heavily forward onto the treadmill, focusing on relaxing my breathing.

"Want to help me practise to fight?" he asked, completely oblivious to my body freaking out.

"Why would I agree to do that?"

"Because I can teach you things." he replied in a duh tone.

I gave him a dubious stare and he rolled his eyes. Striding up to me, he offered me his hand, as if we were about to do a Waltz, not practise sparring. With a sigh, I slapped my palm into his. He tugged me forward and without hesitation, clutched my bicep and flipped me. I landed on my back in an uncomfortable sprawl, breathless. The whole thing happened so fast. My body was on the ground but my mind was still on the treadmill.

"What the hell?" I wheezed, sounding as though I smoke three packs a day.

"I told you, I want to practise fighting." he smirked, an arrogant gleam in his eyes. He offered me his hand but I stared at it distastefully, clambering to my feet on my own. "And I wanted to flip you for asking me questions you don't want the answers to."

"Maybe I do want the answers?" I challenged.

"I don't want you to." He snapped back and I flinched slightly. Narrowing my eyes, I stepped back. I positioning myself in a more defensive way, ready for his attack this time.

"You want a fight?" I asked him, my teeth clenched. "Then that's what you'll get-"

His arms were around my waist, his head pressed against my side before I could even blink. He threw me over his shoulder and I dropped to the ground painfully for the second time in under a minute.

"Ouch!" I whined, rubbing my hip.

"Amateur." he muttered, his smirking growing by the second.

He threw his hand out. This time, I grabbed it savagely and tugged him down. As he wasn't expecting it, he stumbled forward. I pulled with all my strength and he tumbled beside me. Without a moment of hesitation, I straddled him, digging my elbow into the base of his neck. I was just about to declare my victory when his fingers jammed into the sides of my ribs. I am deathly ticklish. I'm embarrassed to admit a high-pitch wail erupted from my lips and I let go abruptly.

He shoved me off him roughly and flattened me onto my back. It was his turn to straddle me. His fingers wrapped around my biceps, pinning my arms over my head. Electricity was coursing through my veins at his touch. His singlet was dishevelled, falling down his shoulder, his scars literally an inch from my face.

"You won't win." He breathed, his eyes trained on my lips while mine were trained on his chest.

My own was rapidly rising, my breath hitched in my throat. Uneasily, my tongue snaked out, moistening my bottom lip. Xavier inched toward me and a rush of exhilaration filled me at the thought of his lips against mine. As he moved closer, his grip on my arms slackened. Of course I used this to my advantage.

I didn't expect to punch him in the face, however.

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