I couldn't get the words out of my mind — deceiver, cheater, liar — what did it all mean? Even as I slipped on my booties in preparation for Xander's arrival, I couldn't focus on anything else. My eyes flickered back to the box, hidden underneath my kitchen counter because of my hopeless attempt to remove the presence of the pictures from my mind.

Whoever's doing this is out to get you, Mar, I thought, attempting to placate myself with reason. You can't believe anything they say or do.

But why would he lie to you?

I groaned loudly, walking over to my kitchen to kick the box into nonexistence, when I heard three short raps against my door.

"Xander," I breathed out, walking back to the entrance to my apartment. My thoughts beat against my brain, the pulsing of my heart growing unbearably loud as I neared him. Cheater.

I opened the door with a little more force than necessary, placing a feigned smile across my lips. I could feel bile rising up in my throat, as I readied myself for a night of lying. The door fell away soon enough, and revealed Xander, standing with his hands in the pockets of his dark-washed jeans. His shirt and leather jacket were fitted enough to show me his defined muscles, and I would be swooning if I could get the word out of my head. Cheater. Cheater. Cheater.

"Hi, Mar. You look gorgeous," he greeted, a simple smile etched on his face.

"As do you," I replied, my face turning red as I realized what I said. Diminishing his masculinity before the first date even starts? Good going, Mar. "You look handsome, I mean."

"Thanks, Mar," he grinned. "You ready to leave?"

Cheater. Cheater. Cheater. I took one last glance around my apartment, realizing I didn't have any choice but to leave with Xander.

"Yeah, let's go."

♛

"Do you want anything to eat?" he asked, and I responded by shaking my head. "To drink?"

"No, I'm good," I told him, struggling to produce a small smile for him.

"Okay," he nodded, looking at me with a quizzical expression. "Let's just head to the theater, then."

"Sure," I mumbled, my voice coming out as more of an echo. He led us to the theater number two after hearing my assent, and we both entered the darkened room. We found seats near the back, and as we sat down, I could feel the warnings in my mind growing louder. 

Lights flickered across the screen, and soon a hushed silence fell onto the room, comforting and safe. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.  Xander settled his hand on my thigh at some point before thirty minutes passed, and by forty minutes, his hand had inched much farther up. Now his hand was toying with waistband of my pants, bare skin pressing up against bare skin.

I gasped.

He took that as invitation, though, bringing his lips to mine, in one fluid, quick motion. I wanted to melt into the kiss and I wanted to give into my feelings for him, but every time I almost did, the chant began again. Cheater. Cheater. Cheater.

His hands were under my shirt, tracing my spine, as his tongue entered my mouth, teasing me and my inhibitions.

Cheater. Cheater. Cheater.

I leaned away from his relentless lips, knowing from his wandering hands that he wanted to take it much further than I did.

"We're in a movie theater," I reminded him, forcing a playful smirk onto my face.

"I expect to pick up this conversation later," he joked, giving me a heart-stopping wink. Soon — too soon — the credits were rolling and we were making our way out of the theater.

"The movie was interesting," I commented, the night air brushing up against me. I shivered involuntarily, feeling immediately guilty as Xander pulled his jacket off and draped it around my shoulders.

"I didn't watch much of it," Xander stated, giving me a smirk.

"Neither did I," I confessed. But not for the reason you think.  Of course, I didn't say that last part out loud.

"We should do this again," he announced as we reached his car. "Soon."

I managed a half-hearted, "yeah," before we got into his shiny black Chevrolet. 

"Wanna grab some takeout?" he prompted, starting the engine of his car. Nope.

"Sure," I shrugged, remembering I did like Xander, no matter what the person was saying about him. He's not a cheater. "Chinese?"

"You got it," he mock-saluted, reversing his car onto the road. A quietness built up as he drove us to the nearest Chinese restaurant, and I found my gaze following the moon across the night sky. The pale whiteness reminded me of Evan's skin from the morning, and I tried to keep the image from resurfacing once more. By the time Xander had driven into the parking lot of the Chinese restaurant, I was on the verge of tears.

"I'll go get the food," he told me, grabbing his wallet and his keys. "You can stay here, if you want."

"Yeah, thanks," I muttered, trying not to show him the pain in my voice. He left the car soon after, and it took everything I had to stop the tears from spilling over. It was like Evan's death was hitting me all over again — the call, the ghastly look on his face, the fucking butterfly etched into his skin.

It was then that a phone started ringing, the sound jarring me into reality. I found it in my pocket — well, in Xander's leather jacket that was currently around me — and looked at what was the source of the noise.

Sage.

My heart dropped, and I could feel the beats thrumming in my ears: loud and unforgiving. I shouldn't pick up the phone. Should I? Why would she be calling him? The chant started again. Cheater. Cheater. Cheater. Cheater. Cheater.

It's his phone. Answering it would be an invasion of privacy. I had to believe in my trust in the both of them.

Cheater. Cheater. Cheater. Cheater. Cheater. Cheater. Cheater.

I pressed the green accept button before I could stop myself.

"Xander, baby, I know you're with Mar right now... but I need you. Can you come over when you're done with her? Please, baby? I can't spend another night without you," she breathed into the phone, her voice soft and pleading. I didn't respond — I couldn't even if I had wanted to. I lost all control over my voice, and my brain couldn't even process the words I wanted to say. A lot of screaming, I assumed, was in order. Maybe some crying. But right now, I couldn't do either.

"Baby, just call me. Or text me. Or just fucking show up at my front door. Anything," she mumbled before hanging up. I stuffed the phone back into his pocket quickly, and too soon, Xander had returned with a bag full of food. The smell nauseated me, or maybe it was just the thought of Xander and Sage, and I swallowed the disgust that was threatening to spill over.

Cheater. Cheater. Cheater.

Whoever was sending me these messages wasn't lying to me after all.