One Snowy Week in Springhollow

by Lucy Knott

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Devon asks. I know I wanted to tell him something but right now I can’t focus.

  ‘Erm, well right now I’m in the line to meet “Captain America”. He’s right over there, D. Have you seen this place? Holy moly it’s amazing.’ I’m barely able to contain the glee in my voice as I try and point discreetly at Steve Rogers himself. I’m sure I see a flicker of a smile tug at the corner of Devon’s mouth, which gives me hope that he might not be as mad at me as he was when I closed the door in his face a few days ago.

  Suddenly I start to feel a little claustrophobic as a small crowd begins to gather around Devon and starts pushing to get closer to him. I curse myself for being a scaredy cat and for getting distracted when I know I don’t have much time. I leave tomorrow morning. I need to stick to my plan and tell Devon why I’m here now.

  I step forward, getting an elbow in my sternum as I do so – ouch, I just want to get closer to my best friend; my best friend who to these people is a beloved superhero. Shoot, this might be harder than I thought. There might be a flaw in Hope’s idea.

  ‘Excuse me, miss, if you want a picture with Devon, the line is over there.’ I follow the man’s finger to where there is a line wrapped around one length of the convention centre, waiting for Devon. Yep, this was going to be way harder than I had imagined. This time there isn’t a shadow of a doubt in my mind that Devon is smirking and there’s no mistaking the mischievous glint in his eye. He shrugs as he gets dragged away. OK, so maybe he is still a little mad at me and is going to make me work for this.

  I glance back at Steve Rogers, let out a sigh and go in search of the end of Devon’s line.

  So, if I thought Devon and I were hardcore superhero nerds when we were kids, it’s nothing compared to the thousands of people in the line with me right now. An hour has ticked by and the line is moving terribly slowly.

  ‘How come we’re not moving very fast?’ I finally pick up the courage to ask the girl in front of me who’s wearing a T-shirt with Devon’s face on it. It still hasn’t quite sunk in that he’s a movie star. I pry my eyes away from the shirt.

  ‘Oh, it’s just Devon. His lines always take forever. He likes to talk to everyone he meets, instead of the usual hi and bye most people stick to. He’s really lovely. Is this your first time meeting him? Oh, you will love him. He’s a sweetheart,’ the girl answers enthusiastically, rocking back on her heels and clapping her hands.

  Right now, I would love food, but I can’t help the smile that forms at my lips and how my skin prickles with goose bumps when the girl speaks, and I know I can’t lose my place in line. I have things I need to say to this nerdy sweetheart.

  Can you believe it takes another hour before I can even see Devon’s table? My stomach is well and truly growly at me, but we’ve made it this far and must go on. The squeals from fans are louder now and I can even make out a few happy dances from enthusiastic movie goers. This place is amazing, allowing everyone to interact, and I can hear Devon put everyone at ease, listen to their stories and oblige all the requests for selfies and photographs. And to think, only a few days ago I thought he had grown into a smooth, standoffish and smarmy man.

  I’m now the second in line. My heart starts hammering in my chest and I can feel the sweat on my top lip. It made sense to wear my cream chunky knit and denim flare combo when stepping outside of the hotel this morning but now it feels like I’m standing next to a heater and my jumper is sucking up all the heat. I concentrate on the girl in front of me and her awesome “Team Bartowski” Converse, making a mental note to get some for Hope and to try and steady the dizziness I feel in my head. This is Devon for crying out loud, the guy I can tell everything and anything to, so what’s wrong with me? I tell him how I feel and then I’m done. He either feels the same or he doesn’t. I’m no stranger to rejection, so all will be OK, I tell myself.

  Yet somehow at that thought my stomach feels like I’ve raced down a half-pipe full speed, twisted my ankle and landed with a heavy thud at the bottom. Will I really be OK if Devon doesn’t feel the same? Yes, I tell myself, yes. I have to be.

  When he left me at sixteen years old I let it change my entire world, hid who I was, felt ashamed of who I was, but now, now I’m a grown-up, a grown-up who loves to draw comic books and watch superhero movies and skateboard and Devon’s visit made me love all those things again and not be afraid of them. Devon made me see that it’s OK to be an adult and still be passionate, still get excited and to still let our inner children out every now and again. I don’t want to lose that again.

  With that thought I feel my body temperature cool down and my heart rate slow down. Ever since we were kids Devon has worn his heart on his sleeve and I was always the tougher one, the tomboy with attitude, but as I look at him sitting against the edge of the plastic fold away table talking to the girl with his face on her T-shirt and making her smile as broad as The Joker, but in a nice way, I know my walls are once again crumbling but this time I know that’s where I want them to stay. No more walls. I can be vulnerable and still strong, just like Devon has always been. I just never realised. Through his own heartbreak and troubles, he remains a light to everyone around him.

  Now, it’s not about him feeling the same way, though I’m still crossing my everything. I just need to thank him. I need him to know that I love him for all that he is and for all that he inspires me to be and I need to look him in the eyes and for once in my life tell him that it’s me who is sorry.

  ‘Excuse me, miss.’ It takes me a second to realise that one of the assistants is looking at me, gesturing towards Devon’s table. I suck in a deep breath and catch Devon’s eyes on me as my stomach grumbles at me angrily. Even my happy thoughts are having trouble keeping my hunger distracted. As I make my way over I notice a security guard walk in from behind the curtain to the left of Devon, bend down, whisper in his ear and hand him a plastic bag that holds something delicious as the smell wafts up and hits me, before he stands up straight and offers me a nod. I smile back at the man and then get back to concentrating on Devon’s brown eyes and not the idea of food. Devon gets up and edges around the table to greet me. My shoulders release their tension the minute he steps closer.

  ‘Look, I didn’t exactly come here to meet Steve Rogers, though you do owe me a photo op,’ I say, which receives a small smile from Devon. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything, D, and I came to see you. I came after you. I know it might be ten years too late, but I came after you.’ Saying the words releases a bunch of tightness in my chest. Owning my regrets but more importantly putting them in the past and rectifying them, doing something about them, makes me feel as light as feather.

  Devon doesn’t say anything. He turns away and reaches into the bag the security guy brought over and pulls out a box, like the ones you get from a food truck, and hands it to me. I smell a burger and fries. If I had any doubts before about loving this man, then they quickly dissolve.

  ‘I knew you’d be hungry.’ He shrugs casually, like it’s no big deal to be so ridiculously thoughtful, when the reality is it means everything to me, and I really want to hug him right now. ‘Do me a favour, Scar? Go eat something and enjoy every inch of this place and meet me at the Rockefeller tree tonight at seven, OK?’

  ‘The big tree?’ I ask in a hushed whisper, not taking my eyes off his.

  ‘Yes, the big tree – you can’t miss it,’ he replies with a grin and a cheeky wink.

  I shove him in the shoulder playfully, which causes the security guard to step forward. Devon quickly raises his hand and the security guard steps back. I jump and offer Devon an apologetic look then nod at his plan; a little fearful of my surroundings. I’m grateful that Devon understands how much I want to explore this convention and I now realise this is probably not the best place to talk. There’s a lot I want to say but Devon’s line is still wrapped around the building.

  I raise my arms to wave at him or hug him or something but see the security guard out of the
corner of my eye shuffle so instead I just awkwardly back away and shrug at Devon, waving the burger and fries box in thanks. His shoulders move up and down with a chuckle and he does a shy wave, which nearly causes me to topple into a camera set-up. It’s getting rather hot in here again.

  ‘Ooh wait,’ I say remembering the sweets I brought with me. I jog backwards a little and once again cause the security guard to take a sudden step forward. I’ve really got this man on edge. This time I wave my hand. ‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ I say, pulling out the brown bag from my shoulder bag. ‘These are for you,’ I say to Devon. ‘You might need a snack,’ I add, with a smile, glancing down the line.

  He looks up at me from under his long lashes and gives me a proper smile this time but doesn’t speak. ‘Big tree at seven. See you then.’

  I nod and retreat.

  I find a small area with tables and chairs and take a seat to tuck into my food and calm down. This is all new territory for me and it’s both exciting and terrifying at the same time. The salty and fluffy flavour and texture of the chips gives me pause. Devon brought me food, which was kind of him, and he smiled when I gave him sweets, so I can only hope it means he doesn’t entirely hate me and that when we meet tonight it will be a joyous occasion.

  In fact, no matter Devon’s feelings for me, I feel like a new and revived version of myself and I’m determined that it will be.

  23

  The chatter in the convention centre is quietening down as the crowd begins emptying out, and many of the actors and artists have left their booths. I’m being weighed down by a few bags, having picked up some gifts for Hope, Jess and my dad that I simply couldn’t resist, and my brain is just a happy inspired whir of colours and comic strips as I come to a standstill at the convention doors, contemplating if I’m ready to leave yet. I spent a good amount of time in the artist quarter chatting to an incredible comic book artist about her books and work. I even picked up a few of her sketches to hang up in my lair as a small Christmas gift to myself.

  A quick look at my watch and I know I must make a move if I want to be on time to meet Devon at seven, but it’s difficult to pry myself away from this sacred room that has breathed so much life and inspiration into my dreams. I’m so glad Hope had suggested I come here and that I don’t have to keep my passion a secret anymore.

  I quick-march to the hotel, feeling a little more like a local, where I deposit my bags and ask the concierge for directions to the big tree. It’s now or never.

  *

  ‘Whoa, that was awesome, Scar, you did it.’ D praises me after I hit my first ever rail slide. I swivel my cap back around, so the visor is at the front to keep the sun out of my eyes now I’ve completed my trick and give him a thumbs-up. The summer heat wave is not discouraging us today. We have a week left until we head back to school to start our last year and we are determined to master these tricks before the holiday’s up.

  ‘Nice moves,’ I hear from behind me. I put down my bottle of water and turn around and am greeted by Tan and his friends.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, suddenly feeling self-conscious with how much I am sweating in the heat. Tan’s a regular at the park with his friends, but they’ve never talked to us before. They’re college boys.

  ‘What are you doing Friday night?’ he asks, taking a step closer to me. Suddenly, Devon’s arm is on my hip so fast as he steps up behind me, arm across my back. My knees unexpectedly turn to jelly.

  ‘Erm, I’m not sure – we usually just hang here till late,’ I stammer, but Tan’s eyes take in D and he takes a step back.

  ‘Is this your boyfriend?’ he asks, nodding at Devon. With D’s fingers grazing my hip bone, I’m finding it hard to form words. What’s wrong with me?

  ‘Yes, I am,’ D says boldly, and I actually choke on air.

  ‘Sorry, dude,’ Tan says. ‘See you around,’ he adds before he and his gang turn around and skate away. When they are gone, Devon casually takes his hand off me and grabs his board.

  ‘What was that all about, D?’ I ask, confused by what just happened.

  ‘They’re college boys – you don’t want to be going out with them,’ he says, walking towards the bowl. I pick up my board and follow him.

  ‘This coming from the person who knows so much about dating,’ I say, not sure why I’m so annoyed. If I’d known Tan was asking me out, like on a date, I wouldn’t have gone.

  ‘I just wanted to protect you,’ D explains, which only agitates me further.

  ‘So what? You’re my boyfriend now?’ I ask, shoving him in his bicep.

  ‘No, I uh…’ he stammers, his cheeks turning red. ‘No, not unless I don’t know. Do you want me to be?’ he asks, dropping his board to the ground, rolling it back and forth with his foot and looking anywhere but at me.

  I choke on a gust of wind. ‘Uh, no, I don’t know. I don’t…’ I ramble. ‘Should we just…’

  ‘Race around the bowl and then grab an ice-cream?’ D offers.

  ‘Yeah, that,’ I reply, shaking my head and dropping into the bowl.

  *

  I’m just walking past the cutest cupcake shop in search of the Rockefeller tree when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin round to see Devon in a tailored maroon coat and a black scarf. His hair is starting to curl with the dew in the air and he looks dashing. For a moment I forget that we’re mad at each other and that I have a very heavy speech planned and embrace him with a hug. When he drapes his arms over my shoulders, I instantly relax into him and my words come pouring out.

  ‘Devon, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I pushed you away. I’m sorry that I never wrote to you and I am so very sorry that I never for one second thought about how much you were hurting too. It all could have been so different if I had tried, but I just gave up. I wasn’t as strong when you left. The pressure from my mum got too much and I tried to be what everyone else wanted me to be. It felt good for a while pushing comics away; it helped me forget about you. The more I missed you the more I just got mad at you for not being by my side and I started hating everything that reminded me of you.

  I lost myself and if today is any indication, I’ve missed out on so much. Did you see the guy who plays Thor? D, he’s like a god, like legit he is Thor.’ I take a step back and look up so I can see Devon’s eyes. They squint a little in amusement.

  ‘Sorry, I know, we can talk about him later.’ I shake my head and take a big breath in, aware that my speech isn’t quite coming out in the order I had planned, and that I am just rambling.

  ‘I love you, Devon, I love you more than Steve Rogers and little Steve Rogers combined. I always have and always will. I love how you get me, and you challenge me while still loving all that I am, and I love how you make me want to be the me I want to be. I guess when you turned up in Springhollow I freaked out and couldn’t shake the ten years that had gone by. I built a wall and kept telling myself that you’d changed, and we couldn’t possibly know each other anymore because I wasn’t the person I was when you left. I had lost myself and you somehow flew right back in and found me, and it scared the heck out of me.’

  I pause for breath as we shuffle a little closer to the window of the cupcake shop and out of the way of pedestrians. ‘Now, you don’t have to feel the same, I mean it would be nice and I’d like that, but I just want to thank you and tell you how much I adore you and think the world of you. You’re the best superhero there is and not just in the movies but in real life too and you’ll always be my favourite. I’d say you’re an even better friend to me than Cap is to Bucky.’

  Devon gasps and puts his hand on his heart dramatically before smirking. He looks ridiculously cute when he does that. I shuffle from foot to foot and laugh at his acting and feel like this whole getting emotions out in the open isn’t so bad, though the sweat forming on my brow tells me otherwise. I remind myself that I will be OK, no matter what Devon says, but find my breath hitches when Devon opens his mouth.

  ‘I’m sorry if you felt like I was barging into your w
orld and acting like you should have been the same sixteen-year-old girl you were when I left. That was wrong of me, but I could still see that spark in your eye, and I didn’t want to believe you had given up drawing because you are beyond talented. I guess a part of me just wanted to pick up where we left off and put the past behind us but that wasn’t right nor fair. I want to know all of you and understand all of you and it pains me that you had such a difficult time when I left.’ He clears his throat and eyes sparkle with tears.

  ‘But that was on me, Devon. You were sixteen. I should never have blamed you and given up on what I wanted. That was my fault. I should have fought for who I was, and I should have fought for our friendship. You had your struggles too. You moved to a brand-new place; you had to deal with new cliques, rejections, good auditions, bad auditions, your parents; and still you fought for your dream, and look at what you achieved,’ I say, absent-mindedly playing with a button on his coat.

  ‘I like us together, Scar. I like us grown-up and together. I want to fall asleep with you and wake up next to you. I want it all with you, Scarlett. Adult sleepovers are fun,’ he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

  I can feel my cheeks flush and I fiddle with the bobbles on my gloves, trying not to think about Devon in my bed right now when we are having a serious conversation.

  ‘I like us together too,’ I reply as Devon grabs my hands, which instantly warms my fingertips with that electricity again.

  ‘Scarlett, will you promise to dance with me when everyone’s watching, eat cookies with me under blanket forts and always be my partner in crime?’ he says.

  With Devon’s words I feel like Christmas spirit just exploded in my heart; it’s full of so much joy.

  I look up into his beautiful brown eyes, that no matter where I am in the world, Springhollow or New York, make me feel like I’m home. I clear my throat to encourage my words to come out clear and not wobbly, but I can feel my whole body shaking.

  ‘Devon Wood, will you promise to skateboard with me even when we’re old and wrinkly, eat ice-cream for breakfast with me and always be the Robin to my Batman?’