#xanderneedsahug

summary: Xander needs a hug. i vote we give the man what he needs. also, Grayson and the reader can’t decide who’s more confused.

warnings: Xan is sad. i guess there’s also mention of a dad not really caring about his kids. 

~~~~~~~~~

Xander:

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

My heartrate is in sync with the pace of my feet hitting the polyurethane tracks in the Hawthorne gym. The thoughts in my head are running rampant, and I’m trying to catch up to them, but it is not physically possible.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

My pace quickens, and my breathing becomes almost as rampant as my thoughts, leaving me heaving for breath, but I keep running.

One.

Two.

Three laps already behind me.

One thousand two hundred meters. Zero point seven five miles. Two minutes, twenty seconds.

The world record for one thousand five hundred meters is three minutes and twenty-six seconds. Will I make it? Or will I fail at something once again?

One, two, three, four, five, six.

I run faster, pushing myself even harder. I can feel my legs absorbing the shock from my feet hitting the ground. Quick. Hard. Not enough.

Two seconds out. Two seconds.  

Fuck.

I keep running. I need to get it right. I can’t stop now. I run as if my entire life depends on me breaking some sort of world record today. 2000 is still possible. I start counting the minutes down. One minute and ten seconds for 500 meters. I can do it. I just need to run faster.

My heart is trying to break out of my ribcage and my lungs are heaving my mouth dry, but I continue running. I continue pushing.

I have to do this. I have to be good enough.

But I never am, and I miss my mark.

Five seconds.

I finish the lap and I collapse onto my knees, not paying mind to the sting and possible blood that the track draws from them.

I lay my hands on the ground, heaving for the oxygen that doesn’t quite reach my lungs.

I fall onto my back, stretching my arms up above my head to try and catch my breath. My throat is screaming for water and my legs are begging me to stay still, but as you would have it, I get up and I walk over to where I left my water bottle on one of the benches next to the running track.

I wobble a bit as I walk but I don’t stop. I don’t ever stop. 

I need to prove that I’m good enough. That I’m worth something. That I can also win.

I down half of my water and it helps me to fully catch my breath. My head is pounding and sweat pools in my hair and it drips down my face. 

I finish the rest of the water and I take my shirt off, wiping my sweat away with it.

I make my way back to the starting line, readying myself to run again. I’m not stopping until I beat that record.

I take a deep breath, giving my lungs one more shot at air before I start running again. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Ninety meters down.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

 One hundred and ten. I might just make it this time

Why am I doing this? Why am I pushing myself so hard? Why do I torture myself so much?

Because maybe then your six reasons will accept you. Maybe then they will deem you good enough.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Jamie. 

He will probably laugh at me when he finds me doing this, torturing myself, trying to achieve something that is way out of my bounds.

Because I will never be good enough.

He won’t find me though.

He’s too preoccupied with his stupid games. Too busy trying to get into Avery’s pants, trying to pull her down the path of his rebel. Trying to corrupt her, the way the Old Man did to us. She doesn’t deserve it.

Neither did I.

But I won’t admit that to myself. Why would I? Maybe it’s because I feel like I deserved it. I'm not allowed to be happy. Somebody will find some way to take away my happiness anyway.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Avery.

After everything I’ve done for her. After all the help I gave her, she still chose Jameson. She forgot about me. 

But how can I blame her? Jamie is so much more than I am. So much more than I’ll ever be. I’m not angry, I’m not. It just hurts. Because why can’t I be anybody’s choice. Why can’t anybody choose me?

One. Two. Three. Four. 

Maxine.

My Max. The first girl that ever really showed any form of interest in me, found somebody else. 

Somebody her parents will actually approve of. A guy driven by his beliefs in God. A guy who will not corrupt her the way I would, without intention, of course. He is a guy who will treat her right. He’s somebody who’ll give her his all.

And that’s not me at all. I would hide so much from her. I would pretend to be perfect so that she doesn’t see my insecurities, so that she doesn’t see that I’m actually not good enough. But she saw that anyway. She left, and I told her that I was okay, that I was fine.

What is wrong with me?

I wish I knew, because I'm really good at solving problems, so if I can just figure out the problem, I can be better. I can be good enough. I can have people care about me.

One. Two. Three.

Grayson. 

I haven’t seen him in eight months. Haven’t talked to him in three. 

Has he been talking to Jamie and Nash? Has he only been ignoring me?

Did he forget that I exist?

Gray has always been my favorite. And that makes me feel guilty, because who am I to have a favorite when I can’t be good enough for anybody? He probably doesn’t even love me back.

But why has he always treated me differently than the other two? 

He’s always been…nicer?...to me than the others.

But maybe that’s just his way of pitying me, because he also thinks knows that I’m not good enough.

But Gray doesn’t pity people.

He doesn’t even express his own emotions properly, so how will he be able to pity someone?

I miss him. I really, really miss him.

I need him to hug me.

But obviously I’d never say that out loud. Hawthornes aren’t allowed to crave stuff like that. Especially not if it’s from another Hawthorne. But I need somebody too.

One. Two.

Nash.

Oh, Nash.

What’s gone wrong? What happened to you being my older brother, my hero, my rock, my everything?

He found Libby, and I’m happy for them. I’m happy to see how happy they are. I’m left alone, with nobody to stand next to me.

You should know you’re fucked up if your older brother chooses somebody else above you.

I need Nash. Now more than ever. Even though Grayson has always been my favorite, he has never been good at talking about feelings. That’s why I always talked to Nash.

But now?

If I knock on his door now to talk to him, I’m just “being a menace again,”. Does he really feel like that? Does he really find me that annoying?

Why am I not good enough for him anymore?

Why do all of my brothers hate me? What have I done?

One.

Libby.

“Xander!”

I snap out of my head when somebody grabs my arm, pulling me backwards, and effectively letting me fall flat on my ass.

Libby.

“What?”

Libby takes a step back and I feel my breath hitch.

I didn’t mean to snap.

I mumble an apology before I get up again, towering over Libby. 

“I just wanted to bring you some water. You’ve been running for ten minutes straight after your first break.”

Oh. 

I clench my teeth and swallow the lump in my throat.

I am a horrible person.

“Have you been watching me this whole time?”

Libby gives me a strange look, but the pounding in my head isn’t allowing me to decipher it. 

“Yeah.”

Short.

Almost concerned.

I take the water from Libby, still trying to catch my breath.

When did I lose myself? How many laps did I do?

Of course I messed up. I can’t do anything right.

Why am I like this? Why am I not good enough?

“Xander,” Libby’s voice is soft, gentle, just like the hand she’s placed on my arm. “Are you okay?” Her voice is a whisper. The lump comes back full force and it sends tears pricking my eyes, but I swallow it back with the water Libby gave me.

“Yeah,” My voice is back to its normal pitched, optimistic, annoying self. “When am I not okay?” I throw the question back as if it doesn’t absolutely shred my heart into millions of pieces.

I’m not okay.

Libby still gives me that same look. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Why? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m okay.” I grin at Libby and I’m too concentrated on not passing out to see the faint frown on her forehead.

“That’s terrific. But if you’ll excuse me, I have to catch a shower before dinner.”

Libby nods and she steps aside, albeit hesitantly, and I walk away, fighting the black dots trying to take away my vision.

I head straight to my room, hoping that nobody else will stop to talk to me. 

When I safely make it to my room, I fall onto my bed. I close my eyes and cover them with one of my arms as if that will tame the monster of a headache I have.

But closing my eyes was a mistake. 

I try to get up again, but stars flash in my eyes and I ultimately decide against it.

I guess the shower can wait.

And I guess I’m skipping dinner. Again.

—------

reader:

Loud music bursts through the headphones on my head, making my brain vibrate.

I hum along to the music and occasionally sing along to a verse I like. The headphones only come out when my lovely dorm neighbors play their music too loudly, or if they’re….at it.

I Hate inconsiderate people. And you can’t ask them to turn their music down, no, no, they’ll turn it up, just to spite you. And I don’t really see the point in complaining about them now, because I’m leaving in two weeks.

Yippee to me!

I’m only leaving my best friend and my dreams behind, but you know, it’s okay. It’s for my dad, so it’s completely and utterly fine.

I pack the last pieces of unneeded clothing into the plastic box and I turn around to grab the lid of the box, just to absolutely fucking shit my pants.

I scream before ripping my headphones off my head and throwing them at the invader standing in front of me.

“Grayson what the hell?!” Grayson catches the headphones and he looks like he’s trying really hard not to laugh. “You scared the shit out of me, you dick.”

I hit Grayson on his chest, but I doubt it did anything to him, other than amusing him more. 

Why, you may ask, because it’s fucking solid rock.

I shake my head, and Grayson finally lets out a chuckle. And with just that, my anger dissipated. With only a short-lived chuckle.

“Hi?” His voice is laced with amusement. I cross my arms over my chest. 

“Hi? Really Grayson? Is that the best you can do? Especially after you just gave me a heart attack?!” 

“Based on the rarity of having a heart attack because somebody scared you, it is highly unlikely that I gave you one. Also based on you not laying on the ground in the fetal position because of intense pain in your chest, it’s unlikely that I did give you a heart attack. You would also be breaking out in cold sw-”

“Grayson, Grayson stop. I didn’t mean it literally. It was only a matter of expression.”

“A very illogical expression.”

I sigh. “What are you doing here, Grayson?”

“I came here to give you this.” Grayson pulls something from his pocket and hands it to me.

I still faintly hear Taylor Swift playing through my headphones when I grab the piece of paper from Grayson.

I also grab my headphones, turn them off and put them in the box along with the clothes.

I frown as I see my name scrawled in cursive on the piece of paper. “Where did you find this?’

“You left it in one of your textbooks. I also found a piece of paper with your number and dorm number on it.”

“Uhmm, what is it?” I give the piece of folded paper a questioning look before looking back up at Grayson.

“I don’t know, I didn’t read it, but I assumed that it’s a letter from your father or mother.”

I gulp at the mention of my mother. “Well here, you read it, I need to mark this box.” I hand the letter to Grayson before turning my back on him and grabbing a few more small things to throw into the box.

“Alright?”

If it’s from my dad, it’s probably him complaining again, or it’s him giving some kind of bad news, and if that’s the case, I’d rather have somebody else read it out loud to me than me reading it myself.

And if it’s from my sister, what’s the worst that can happen?

“Uhm, Y/N? I think you should read it yourself.” Grayson clears his throat and when I turn around to ask him why, he’s red as a tomato.

I never thought that I’d ever see Grayson Hawthorne blush.

I snort. “Why?”

“It’s from your sister.”

Grayson folds the letter again, reaching out his arm for me to take the letter. He looks away when I take it and he clears his throat again.

I roll my eyes. He is so dramatic, it’s not even funny.

I open the letter and I start reading.

‘Dear Sissy

I started my period. I HATE it. It makes me feel gross, and I know it shouldn’t but it does. It also makes me very uncomfortable. Dad is also very awkward about it, and he gets angry because apparently I’m “more moody than your sister”, (don’t worry, I did come up for you) and it bothers me. Me and Cassie really miss you. We hope that you’re coming back soon.

Also, Bonzo tried eating my shirt the other day. I’m not sure where he got it from. But it was one of the nice shirts you gave me. I’m really sorry. But also, it’s kinda not my fault that your dog has issues, but anyway. I hope you’ll be home for my birthday this year. I’m turning fourteen, and I want to go out with somebody, but dad doesn’t want me to, so the only way I’ll be allowed to is if you’re home, and you can go with me.

Dad doesn’t really know what Cassie and I like, but you do and we need you. Dad always buys these gross coconut chocolates from the shop down the street, and he thinks we love them more than anything else on this planet, and that’s not true, because you know I like those strawberry clouds more than anything. Dad isn’t very good with Cassie either. I always have to calm her down if she’s throwing a temper tantrum. She’s been having a lot of those lately and I don’t know why.

I really miss you, Sissy, when are you coming back?

-Marley.

31 October

Well, the good news is, it wasn’t sent too long ago. Only two weeks, and it’ll only take three days to get a letter back to her. 

I hate that my sisters are alone with dad. It kills me to know that Ley has been the one taking responsibility over Cassie. I wish I could be there right now, holding her in my arms, telling her that everything will be okay.

I hate that they miss me this much. I didn’t realize how much I will just throw onto my sister if I leave.

Because I was being selfish. Only thinking about myself, not thinking about the fact that my little sister wants to keep up with her social life.

But I just had to leave, didn’t I?

“Uhmm, can you maybe give me like ten minutes? I just have to write back.”

I walk over to my desk without waiting for Grayson’s response.

“Yes, of course.”

I grab a pen and a paper and I start writing.

Three pages, twenty minutes and seventy apologies later, I’m rummaging through all of my boxes and bags for an envelope.

All the while Grayson is watching me from where he made himself home on my bed. He’s sprawled out on my pillows with his feet crossed and his arms behind his head. I can’t stand his eyes following my every move. I could lie and say that I’m not intimidated, but where’s the fun in that, right?

“You know,” Grayson was the first to break the twenty-five-minute silence, “I could get that let-, oh, apologies, those letters to your sister by tonight.”

I roll my eyes at Grayson’s supposed joke.

“How will you do that. It’s Sunday, everything is closed.”

“Who said anything about going to a post office?”

“You said you could get it to my sister by tonight? That’s impossible.”

I stop my rummaging to give Grayson a scrutinizing look.

“It’s not impossible when you’re a Hawthorne.” Grayson sits up to grab his phone from his pocket. “I can get somebody to come pick it up and have it delivered.”

Of course you can, Grayson Hawthorne, of course you can.

I give Grayson a look of disbelief. “So?’ He asks.

I wonder how far I can push. “Would they be able to add a bouquet of alliums and orchids, and a box of Debauve and Gallais Le Livre chocolates with the letters?”

Okay, maybe I’m pushing it a bit too far.

“Of course,” Grayson’s answer takes me by surprise. “Anything else?”

My jaw is on the floor. “No, Grayson, don’t be ridiculous, I was joking.” I click my tongue and I continue with my rummaging.

“Whoops.”

I stop and my jaw is on the ground again. “I know you didn’t just say ‘whoops’.”

“I’ll ask David to also put the letters in an envelope before he delivers.”

“Who is David?”

“The guy I’m about to call. Give me ten minutes.”

My mouth hangs open as I watch Grayson getting up and leaving my room.

What just happened?

I just got myself into a fuckton of trouble, because I can’t afford the stuff I asked for. I can’t repay Grayson.

~~~~~~~~~

Hello, hello loviess.

i hope you enjoyed this part, i quite enjoyed writing it, and i'm excited to get your opinion on it!! thanks for reading!

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10

part 11 part 12 part 13

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