Chapter Twenty One

                                    

                                          


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"I've missed more than 9500 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."  –Michael Jordan. 

                          
Dedication: Albus-Potter for the amazing cover!
                          
Recap:
                          
"Ma'am!" I heard a person say, gripping my arm. "You can't go over there."
                          
It was him. It was Xavier.
                          
He was laying on his side, motionless.
                          
A wail tore from my throat as I collapsed onto the hard ground below me.
                          
This was all my fault.

                          
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Xavier's P.O.V:

                          
That could have gone better.
                          
Groaning, I ran my hand roughly through my hair. I shouldn't have blown up like that. Faith was just trying to help.
                          
But how was her dad going to help? I've met the guy once. He knows nothing about me or who I am as a person. And besides, he isn't even here.
                          
And the police? What was she thinking?
                          
Kicking out, my foot connected with a rock and I winced as pain shot up my leg. I had decided to go to a place that I knew was quiet, where I could think clearly. Which was the waterfall, that Faith and I had decided was our place. 
                          
Which is ironic, in a way.
                          
I don't know how long I've been here, but it's been a fair while. Probably a few hours, or so. Faith was probably worried sick.
                          
"Stupid," I muttered, re-thinking what she said and how I reacted.
                          
I don't even know who is in the wrong here.
                          
Sighing, I sat heavily on a rock. Jamming my headphones in my ear, I slid my thumb across the volume dial, putting it on the loudest it could go. The music could drown out my thoughts for a while.
                          
Closing my eyes, I shoved my head in my hands, just focusing on the music and not on my argument with Faith.
                          
That lasted about two whole seconds.
                          
The music cut out as my phone began vibrating. It was Faith, I'm sure. She had tried calling me several times. Squinting, I stared at the screen. I was surprised when it said "No Caller ID".
                          
Had she resorted to putting her phone on private now? Rolling my eyes, I let it ring out.
                          
Suddenly, my phone vibrated again, but it was a text.
                          
Unknown: You're going to want to answer the phone.
                          
Staring down at it, with my eyebrows raised, I began to get an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.
                          
The phone rang again. With a sigh, I answered.
                          
"What?"
                          
"Xavier," his rough voice greeted me. "Long time, no see."
                          
The blood inside my veins went cold. How the hell did he get my number? 
                          
"Andrew," I choked out, my voice suddenly hoarse. 
                          
"Missed me?"
                          
I scoffed, suddenly regaining somewhat of my composure. "Yeah right."
                          
"Now, that's no way to speak to your father," he tsked.