No one said a word after Xander's little speech.

My parents stood frozen, their faces cycling through expressions I'd never seen before—shock, shame, confusion, something that might have been fear. My father's mouth worked silently, trying to form words that wouldn't come. My mother had her hand pressed to her chest, her eyes wide and glassy.

I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.

Xander Romano—the Xander Romano—had just defended me. To my parents. Had stood there and ...