“Then why can’t you talk to him about radio now?” I ask. I move past her to the mirror, then reach into my bag and pull out my lip gloss. I reline my lips and then blot, smiling into the mirror to make sure I don’t have any on my teeth.
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure he wants to talk about radio at the dance,” Mel says. Hmm. Good point. I mean, the whole point of the dance is to do something kind of romantic. You don’t want to be reminded of school.
“But it’s at least as a way to start a conversation,” I offer. I hold out my lip gloss, and Mel takes it, stepping in front of the mirror to put it on.
“What’s going on in here?” Lexi asks, walking into the bathroom. “I have been looking for you two all over the place.”
“You have?” I ask.
“Yes.” Lexi takes out a small curling iron from her purse, and plugs it into the outlet on the wall. “I need a touch-up,” she explains. “Anyway,” she goes on. “I don’t think it’s right that you two are basically ignoring your dates. I mean, Luke’s been in the Rock Band booth all night, and Dylan’s been stuck talking to that boring kid from our science class.” Her eyebrows knit together in concentration. “What’s his name? Brutus?”
“Brandon.” Brandon’s Lexi’s lab partner. She really should pay better attention in class.
She picks up the curling iron and starts to curl the bottom of her hair.
“And Luke’s not my date,” I say. “So I could care less if he’s in the Rock Band booth.” Not exactly true, but whatever.
“And if Dylan wants to talk to me so bad, he knows where to find me,” Mel says.
“In the girls’ bathroom?” Lexi looks skeptical.
Mel shrugs.
“Girls!” Lexi says. “I’m serious! I don’t like all this hiding from boys. If you want something done, go out there and do it!”
I’m not sure exactly what she’s talking about, getting things done. I mean, I do want to talk to Luke, but that’s really not supposed to be happening until later. Still, I get the point of what she’s trying to say. But I try to pretend that she’s just referring to Mel, even though I’m just as guilty.
“She’s right,” I say to Mel. “You should go out there and talk to him.”
“What about you?” Mel challenges. “You should be out there talking to Luke.”
“Wellll,” I say. “That’s different.” I try to sound breezy, like I don’t care that Luke is in the Rock Band booth, while I’m in here hiding from him. I reach into my bag and pull out my eye shadow, scooting in next to Lexi and brushing some over my eyelid. “I mean, Luke isn’t talking to me, so . . .” I shrug, as if the whole thing is out of my hands.
“Aren’t you guys supposed to talk about your relationship after the dance?” Lexi asks. She’s winding up the cord of her curling iron and putting it back into her bag.
“How did you know about that?” I ask.
“Jared told me.” She shrugs, like it’s not earth-shattering news that she’s just delivered.
“How did Jared know?” I ask.
“Because Luke told him.”
“He did?” I drop the eye shadow brush and it bounces off the counter and into the sink. Eww. I reach in and fish it out, then drop it into the garbage. No way I’m using that again.
“Yeah.” Lexi shrugs again.
“Well, what did he say exactly?” This information is very important. Maybe he told Jared something that he’s planning on doing. Like breaking up with me. Or maybe he said he’s going to forgive me. Or maybe . . .
“He said ‘Luke said him and Devon are going to be talking after the dance.’”
“That’s it?” And Lexi didn’t think she should pump him for information? What is wrong with her? “What is wrong with you?” I demand. “Why didn’t you pump him for information?”
“I dunno,” Lexi says. “I figured it was your business.” This, from someone who’s planning on broadcasting an advice show every day at school.
“You know,” Mel says suddenly. “Lexi’s right.” Uh-oh. Mel has this tone in her voice, the same tone she had last year when they tried to tell Mazie Livingston that she couldn’t be on the boys wrestling team. Mel led this whole campaign with posters and everything.
“She is?” I say nervously, not sure what’s coming.
“Yes!” Mel throws up her hands. “This is ridiculous, sitting in the bathroom while everyone is out there having fun.”
“True,” I say.
“I need to get out there and have fun with my date. Who cares if it’s a little bit awkward? How am I going to know if we really like each other if I never even try to talk to him?” She’s pacing now, and her voice is kind of shrieky. Honestly, I’m a little scared of her. “Middle school dances are supposed to be awkward!” She grabs me by the shoulders. “Devon!”
“Yes?” I try.
“Are you with me?” She gives me a little shake.
“Um . . . I don’t really—”
“I said ARE. YOU. WITH. ME?”
“Yes!” I say suddenly. “I’m with you!” And I am. All I have to do is tell Luke the truth. He’s Luke! He’s nice! And maybe he’ll be a little mad and weirded out at first, but he did agree to talk to me later. And he even said himself that he wasn’t ignoring me because he wanted to break up. He just needed some time!
So as Mel heads out into the dance to find Dylan and attempt to strike up a conversation with him, I head out into the dance to pry Luke away from the Rock Band booth and tell him the truth about Greg/Ryan. And Lexi goes out to find Jared, probably so they can make out in a corner somewhere.
When I get to the Rock Band booth, a very rude kid informs me that there’s a line to play the game.
“Oh, I don’t want to play,” I say. “I just want to know if you’ve seen Luke Nichols?”
“Never heard of him,” the kid says, waving his hand. The line to play isn’t really that long. It’s not even really a line, but more like a huddle of people waiting. And Luke’s not in it.
I head out of the booth and wander back over to the table. Maybe Luke’s in the bathroom or something. I pick up a cookie so that I have something to do with my hands, and let my eyes scan the crowd. I spot Mel over in a corner, standing by Dylan. They’re not really talking, but then he leans in and whispers something to her, and she laughs, tilting her head back and letting her hair fall down around her shoulders.
I see Lexi dancing with Jared again, her head against his shoulders. And then, as my eyes move across the dim room, I see Luke. The overhead light washes over him, and in that moment, I just have this feeling that everything’s going to be okay.
I put one foot forward, about to make my way through the throng of dancing kids to get to him. Until I realize what he’s doing.
Dancing. With Bailey Barelli.
chapter fourteen
For a second, I don’t move. His arms are around her waist, and she’s talking to him, and he’s laughing about something, and before I can even think about what I’m doing, I’m pushing through the crowd and out of the gym. The lights overhead are making shadow patterns on the floor, and I’m looking down, concentrating on making my sparkly shoes move toward the door. I thought he wanted to talk later? I thought maybe there was a chance, that maybe he could forgive me, but now . . . I reach into my bag and pull out my cell phone.
I need to call my mom, I need her to pick me up, I need to get out of here.
I dial her number, but it goes right to her voice mail. Figures. She’s probably in the movie with Katie.
I call my dad at home, but I get the answering machine, so I hang up and dial his cell. “Devon?” my dad asks when he answers. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, trying to slow my beating heart. “Well, sort of. The thing is, I want to come home.” I sit down on a bench on the sidewalk outside the gym.
“You want to come home?” he asks incredulously. I can’t blame him. I mean, I did beg and beg to be able to go to this dance.
“
Yes,” I say.
“Right now?”
“Yes,” I say. “Right now please.”
“Why?” he asks.
“No reason,” I say, not really wanting to get into it. “It’s just that, um, my stomach is a little bit upset.” I stand up and move around a little bit. God, it’s cold out. I really should have listened to my mom when she said I should wear a coat. But honestly, who wants to wear a coat when your dress is this cute? Of course, if I’d known I’d be running out of the dance and forced to stand in the cold while waiting for my dad to come and get me, I would have reconsidered.
“Are you sure?” he says. “This isn’t going to be one of those things where I get there to pick you up and you decide you want to stay, is it? Because I’m kind of in the middle of something.” For the first time I realize there are voices in the background of wherever my dad is. It sounds like he’s at some kind of party or something.
“In the middle of what?” I ask suspiciously.
“I’m just . . . uh, I’m out. At a work thing.” Yeah, right. Work thing my butt. Sounds like he’s out with Stephanie. I feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but what choice do I have? I can’t get ahold of my mom, so it’s either having my dad come to pick me up, or going back into the dance. Which I so do not want to do.
“Dad,” I say, pleading.
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes? Where is he, Antarctica?
I stand outside, wondering if I’m going to be able to get out of here before Mel or Lexi realize I’m gone. Once I get in my dad’s car, I’ll send them a text letting them know where I am so they don’t worry, but for right now, I don’t really want to talk to anyone. I walk around in circles a little bit, trying to stay warm.
“Devon.” I hear his voice before I see him. Luke. Calling my name from behind me.
“Oh,” I say, turning around. “Yeah?”
“I saw you run out here, and I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.” The door to the school shuts behind him, and he moves a little closer to me.
I almost laugh. “Yeah, like you care.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Luke, it’s fine,” I say. “I get it. You and I broke up, and now you’re getting back with Barelli. You don’t have to come out here and try to make me feel better. I’m perfectly fine, and in fact, I’m only going home because my stomach is bothering me.” I put my hand on my stomach to make it a little bit more believable.
“You’re going home?” he asks.
“Because my stomach is bothering me,” I repeat. “Now please, just go away.” I turn my back on him, walking a few feet away, and hoping that I don’t start crying while he’s out here.
“Go away?” he asks incredulously. “You want me to go away? Devon, you’re the one who wanted to talk to me after the dance.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, whirling back around. “So now you decide you’re ready to talk to me, so I’m just supposed to be super excited about it? After you ignored me for over a week? Sorry, Luke, I can’t just go back and forth that easily.” I cross my arms, daring him to come closer.
“You’re mad at me?” he asks. “That’s really great. You go off hanging out with your ex-boyfriend without even telling me, and you’re mad at me.”
“You were in there dancing with Bailey!” I throw my hands up in the air and point to the gym. “And it looked pretty intense. After you said that we were going to talk after the dance!”
“Yeah,” he says, his eyes flashing. “And the only reason I started dancing with her is because she said you were getting back together with Greg. Which I already knew, since I saw you two at the mall after you lied about being at your grandma’s.”
“She said what?” I gasp. God, can that girl get any more up in my business? And why would she say that? Up until this point, she’s just been super annoying, but I guess it was only a matter of time until she started lying about things. Those types always do. Then I remember running into Bailey and Kim that day in the dressing room, while I was getting my dress. How Bailey said she’d heard I’d gotten back together with Greg, and how I hadn’t bothered to correct her, because I didn’t want her to think that I was heartbroken over Luke. Oh, for God’s sake.
“He’s not my ex-boyfriend!” I say, the words tumbling out into the night air before I can stop them. “He’s just a guy who was pretending to be my ex-boyfriend.”
“What?” Luke takes a step back, looking confused.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I say, throwing my hands up into the air. “I made him up!”’
“You made what up about him?” Luke still looks confused, his eyebrows knit together in concentration as he tries to wrap his mind around this new bit of info.
“No, him,” I say. “I made him up. I’ve never had an ex-boyfriend, Luke. He’s one of Lexi’s friends, a guy she knows from her old school.”
“And you hired him to pretend to be your boyfriend?” Luke asks incredulously.
“Not exactly,” I say, swiping at my tears with the back of my hand. “He did it for free.”
“Why would you do something like that?” he asks, and the way he says it makes me feel like he thinks I’m crazy. Which, I guess, looking back on it, I kind of am. I mean, it is pretty crazy to do something like that. Just make up that you have an ex-boyfriend. Especially when it isn’t even the first time you’ve done something like that. I have more fake boyfriends than I’ve had real boyfriends.
“Because of Barelli,” I say. “You guys were passing notes back and forth and texting and the four-wheeling!”
“The four-wheeling?” He’s confused. “Yeah, the four-wheeling! At her uncle’s farm, where apparently you two would hang out on the weekends and just have so much fun.”
“Devon, we went there like twice.”
“And how was I supposed to know that?” I ask him. And now I’m crying, tears streaming down my face, and I’m cursing myself for not paying the extra money for waterproof makeup, but honestly, who could have foreseen this? Not me.
“Maybe if you’d asked me, if you’d—”
“You should have told me! You should have made me feel better! I was your girlfriend!”
“I would have if you asked. And it doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me.”
My dad pulls up then. I haven’t noticed, but it’s started drizzling, and the wipers of the car are making little squeaky sounds on the windshield.
“It doesn’t matter now,” I say sadly, looking down at my hands. In my heart, I know what I want him to say. I want him to tell me it does matter, that we can work it out, that he’s not mad at me, that he forgives me for lying, that he doesn’t like Bailey. And then I’ll go and tell my dad I don’t need a ride home after all, and he’ll be kind of annoyed, but it won’t matter, because Luke and I will be talking and I’ll be able to talk to my dad about it later.
But all Luke says is, “Yeah, I guess it doesn’t.” And then he turns around and heads back into the dance, and I turn around and head for my dad’s car.
“Is everything all right?” my dad asks as I hop into the car. The drizzling outside has made little drops on the skirt of my dress, turning the fabric darker.
“Fine,” I say, looking out the window. No way I’m going to be confiding in my dad after what just happened. I mean, hello. He’s lying to our whole family and definitely not my favorite person right now. I decide I hate all men.
“Does this have anything to do with Luke?” my dad asks.
“No,” I say. “I told you, I don’t feel good.”
“So it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Luke was just standing outside with you, and the two of you looked like you were involved in a very serious conversation?”
“No,” I say again. “It has nothing to do with that.”
“Okay.” There’s silence, and so I reach over and switch on the radio, then look out the window and feel sorry for myself.
&nb
sp; “Devon,” my dad says. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?”
“Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?” I counter. Because at this point, you know, I’ve really had it.
“What do you mean?” he frowns.
“Just what I said,” I say. “Do you want to tell me anything?” And even though I know a lot of this has to do with how upset I am about Luke, and how upset I am at myself for not learning my lesson the first time, it feels good to finally confront my dad.
“No,” my dad says. He seems very confused.
We’re pulling into the driveway now, and part of me just wants to let it go. But as I’m getting out of the car, I turn around and say, “I know about Stephanie.” And then I calmly shut the door, head up to my room, and stay in bed for the rest of the night.
For some reason, I wake up at eight o’clock the next morning. Eight o’clock! On a Sunday. I never wake up that early. Ever. I don’t like to get out of bed before ten. Otherwise, what’s the point of having a weekend? I’m about to roll over and go back to sleep, when the events of the night before come rushing back to me. Luke dancing with Bailey. My confession in the rain. The ride home with my dad. Me telling him I know about Stephanie, and him not denying it.
I know I’m not going to be able to get back to sleep, and I sigh. The sun is shining through my window. Ugh. I am so not in a sunshiny mood right now. From downstairs, I can hear the low sounds of my parents’ voices, and dishes clinking. They must be having breakfast. And from the way they’re talking in low voices, I can tell they’re talking about something serious.
Is my dad confessing everything? Oh, God. This is so not what I want to deal with today. I decide to stay in my room for the whole day. And then I remember I’m supposed to be going on that mock trial field trip this afternoon. Ugh. I pull the covers over my head and close my eyes. I’m drifting in and out of sleep, and the next thing I know, I hear that the TV in my room is on.
Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better Page 16