When we get back to the trailer, Jackson is tired and he falls asleep on the couch.
“So, long story short, you can be nice if you want to.” I give Devon a knowing look.
“Funny that you fell for the ruse.” He snorts.
“Just so you know, you’re a really bad liar,” I tell him. “What you really mean is ‘Thank you so much, Eleanor, for being there and getting me to do the right thing ‘cause I’d have screwed up bad with Jackson if I were to do this alone.’ So yeah, you’re welcome and I’m really glad I could help.”
“Interesting,” Devon remarks with an amused smile. “If you think you know me so well, you must be noticing me a great deal. Hope I’m not growing on you, Sanchez.”
He eyes me closely. I am not prepared for that one.
“No, you’re not,” I say, avoiding his eyes.
From the corner of my eye, I see him closing the gap between us. I take a step back, fixing him with a sharp look. “What are you doing?”
“That shouldn’t be very difficult to figure out,” he says, walking closer.
I can’t back away this time. His voice is so alluring, I feel like a prey. A shiver runs down my spine when I see lust rise like a dark, silent whiff from the writhing depths of his blue eyes. He stares down at my lips and leans towards me. I feel haunted by desire.
“Devon, don’t.” I struggle to hold on to my failing senses.
“Why not?” he whispers hoarsely.
I could hear my heart drumming as he holds the side of my face and strokes my nose with his. I stifle a moan of pleasure between my teeth.
“Jackson’s here…” I gulp hard, fighting his mounting seduction with every ounce of self-control I have left in me.
But I don’t think that is enough for him to stop him from what he is about to do.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” His breath is hot on my cheek.
I gasp when his lips brush mine. It’s as though I’ve touched fire, and also felt its dark torment. Yet, I don’t want to pull away. I want to plunge deeper into the flames. I guess Devon understands that violent, almost maniacal urge for his lips move away from mine after a brief peck only to come crashing back to claim them like a blazing storm.
His lips move over mine with passion, obliterating the world around me. I kiss him back, whole and deep, clutching his shirt between my trembling fingers. I swallow his groans to satisfy my primal thirst. His mouth is the only universe I want to exist in. I want his wicked tongue to be the sole decider of my fate.
But that doesn’t happen.
A sudden knock on the door snaps me out of the frenzy. Devon and I break away just in time to see Jackson rub his eyes and sit up on the couch.
“Why do both of you look so weird?” he asks, puzzled.
“I’ll go get the door,” Devon says at once, heading for the door.
I run a quick hand through my hair and dress to make sure I look presentable.
What just happened?!
I hope I’m not looking as flushed as I feel right now. I was still reeling when I see Dave Parker, Jackson and Devon’s dad, at the threshold of the trailer.
And let’s just say I know where Devon got his good looks from. Mr. Parker is tall and lean. He has short black hair and light brown eyes, coated with a ray of kindness. He is clean shaven. Dressed smartly in a dark blue business suit, he sure has a poised and youthful appearance. Unlike his wife, Dave Parker comes across as warm and amicable.
Devon clenches his jaw upon seeing his father. I watch his hands curl into tight fists at his sides just like it did before. The strain in the air is palpable. Looks like Mr. Parker hasn’t just come to take Jackson home but also to have words with his older son.
Taking the cue, I take Jackson outside with me to the riverside.
“Dad has been trying hard for a really long time to get Devon to come live with us,” says the kid.
“Has he?” I ask anxiously.
“Yeah, I hope Devon comes home. I feel alone. It’ll be so cool to live with him.”
I turn my head to look back at the trailer and wonder what’s going on in there. I don’t have to wait for a long time to know because soon enough Mr. Parker emerges. He looks weary and dejected. I guess it didn’t go as he’d planned.
Jackson and I approach him. “Hey, buddy, can you wait for me in the car?” Mr. Parker looks down at his son who nods at him, and sets off towards the Mercedes that’s parked at a distance.
Mr. Parker then turns to me. “Eleanor, is it?”
“Yes, Mr. Parker.” I nod. “Is everything…okay?”
“No man can be okay if he is a father who has let his son down.” He sighs, suddenly looking very old. “I know Devon is hurting. I want to help him. I want to patch things up between us. Do you think you can talk him into moving in with me and my family?”
“Me?!” I grow wide-eyed.
“Let me tell you something about Devon.” Mr. Parker looks grim. “He had a very notorious reputation back where he lived with his mom. Had his driving license suspended many times, was involved in vandalism and got mixed up with a shady street gang. The reason? He couldn’t deal with the divorce. And after her death nine months ago, it just got worse. He was a terror to everyone around him.”
My throat runs dry as I stand numb listening to him.
“But he hasn’t caused any kind of disruption ever since he moved in this neighborhood,” Dave Parker continued. “At least, not yet. Devon hasn’t let anyone but you in since his mom’s death. He might listen to you if you give it a try. It’s a request and would mean a lot.”
I tell him I will give it a shot, and he looks a little less distraught. After Mr. Parker takes leave, I walk into the trailer to find Devon on his laptop.
“Hey…are you okay?” I ask with caution.
“I’m doing homework, and the questions are not lame for once. Yeah, I’m great,” he responds casually with his eyes on the laptop screen.
“I’m really sorry about your mom…” I trail off. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
Devon looks up at me, visibly startled. It is obvious that he is surprised; he’s not expecting me to know about his mom. His expressions grow hard the very next moment.
“I won’t ever move in with my father if that’s what you’re getting at,” he says without a trace of emotion. “He is the reason why my mom is no longer with me. There, I finally said it.”
“No, you didn’t. You―”
“Tell me, Eleanor, do you believe in forgiveness?” He shuts his laptop and gets to his feet. “Do you think forgiveness is even valid?”
That comes like an unexpected blow. I feel tears building in my chest. I’m reminded of my own life in a cruel way. No, I don’t believe forgiveness is valid. But it’s not what I intend to tell him.
“I don’t know,” I speak, holding myself together.
“I’ll tell you. Forgiveness is a fucking illusion,” he speaks bitterly. “It’s just a toy you play with in your head and throw it away when it doesn’t work at all. Because the truth is you can never forgive if you have lost way too more than you can afford to give up.”
I agree with him, but I don’t tell him that. I stand there numb. Devon gets back to his laptop. With no words left to say and nothing more to add, I turn away and show myself out of the trailer with a heavy heart.
Chapter Eight
It was exhilarating to play soccer with my dad that bright sunny day.
His loud cheers when I kick the ball across at him fill my heart. And his funny footwork to score a goal always has me in peals of laughter.
“I had a lot of fun, Dad!” I grin widely as we sit down on the grass when the sun sinks below the horizon.
“Same here, honey.” He smiles lovingly at me.
“I cannot wait to do this again! Do you think tomorrow will be great for another day of soccer?” I ask eagerly.
“No, kid. Tomorrow will not be great. As a matter of fact, no other day will be great.”
> “Why are you saying so?” I ask, puzzled.
“Today is the last day I played soccer with you. I’m going away forever, Eleanor. I’m leaving you. Don’t try to reach me ever again.”
His words crush me. “W-Why? What-What happened? Did I…did I hurt you in any way?”
“You hurt me since the very moment you were born. I should have asked the nurse to throw you away. You deserve nobody for what you did. It’s time I give up on you.”
My face pales when he stands on his feet and starts to walk away.
“No, Dad, Please!” I scream in dire pain, tears gushing down my eyes. I shoot to my feet and run after him. I call out to him, begging him to stay but he doesn’t stop. I don’t give up. But no matter how fast I run, I’m never able to reach him. He seems to go farther away until he disappears into the vile fog.
“Please don’t go! I’m sorry! Come back!! Daddy, NO…!”
My eyes dart open and I find myself in my bed. I stare into the darkness of the room with a pounding heart and a sharp pain, making it hard for me to breathe.
Another night. Another nightmare.
***
“Sweetie, is something wrong?”
I hear Gran’s concerned voice pulling me back to reality. I’m sitting across her in the kitchen counter for breakfast the following day.
“Yeah, I was just thinking about this test I have today,” I lie, taking a bite of my omelet.
“Oh, you will do really well, sugar, I’m sure!”
“Thanks, Gran,” I say. “Did…did Dad say anything about when he is coming back?” My heart slows down as I ask.
“I don’t know, dear.” Gran shakes his head. “He hasn’t called in a while. He must be quite busy.”
“Oh…”
“But don’t worry. He should be able to update us on his return soon. In the meantime, I’m here for you and so are my buttered popcorn brownies. You’ll have them at dinner,” she adds with a wink.
I chuckle. “Sure, I can count on both you and your babies.”
***
I have no idea how I’m gonna face Devon after our kiss yesterday. Heck, it wasn’t even just a kiss. I made out with him. I didn’t even try to stop him when I totally should have. I don’t know why it felt so right then. It still does. Maybe there is a terrible glitch in my guilt system. Or maybe it has got something to do with the fact that Devon is such an unbelievably amazing kisser. I still can’t get the memory of his lips out of my head, out of my skin…
I’ve never been kissed like that before—with so much heart, soul, and passion. Or maybe it’s just all in my head.
I come across as such a bitch right now. I agreed to pretend with Devon to make Luke jealous and maybe realize what he’s actually missing out on, but why do I feel like I’m actually cheating on him and feel all the more guilty with each passing day? But Luke did push me away and leave everything between us hanging when he stopped talking to me.
I don’t want to run into Devon at all. I’m utterly grateful that he is not in any of my morning classes. I just wish the lucky streak continues forev―
“You’re avoiding me.”
My feet come to a stop as I hear that familiar voice behind me in the hallways. Damn.
“I’m not avoiding you,” I deny, turning around to face him.
“Liar, liar Sanchez on fire,” he remarks.
“Whatever.” I turn my back to him and start walking.
But Devon falls in step with me “Really? You should see how you’ve been in the hallways since morning. Like a sinner trying not to run into Satan.”
I roll my eyes at his taunt.
“Plus, when I got to your place to pick you up for school today, your gran said you already left.”
I stop in my tracks and gaze at him. “You spoke to Gran?!”
“Yeah. And I pretty much might have called her an old hag but in my defense I say it was pretty much an accident.”
“You called Gran an old hag?!” I stare at him in horror.
“Did you not understand the part where I said ‘pretty much an accident’?” he drawls.
“You called her ugly? Worse, you called her old?” I rebuke him. “Old??! Like seriously? How could you? Did you at least say sorry to her?”
“Of course, I did. But I don’t think she liked my version of apology.” He shrugs. “That’s her loss.”
I am honestly so pissed right now. The world knows how amazing he is at saying sorry. Okay, maybe not the world but surely I and a few other poor souls who have been at the receiving end of his compassionate―very compassionate―words.
I shoot him a look of disgust and stride ahead, reaching my locker.
Devon follows. “Why are you so mad at me?” He snickers. “Sure you know how I am.”
I sigh. “Devon, I don’t expect much but at least watch your words with Gran. I don’t want you to get into trouble with her.”
“Why?” he quizzes in amusement. “It’s not like I need her approval because we are not dating. I mean, we do, but like it’s not really for real.”
I look away from him and pull open my locker. “Yes, I know that,” I say quietly, putting my stuff in the locker.
“Wait, Eleanor. Has our little pretending game gone from fake to real for you?”
I can picture the smirk on his lips even though I’m not looking at him.
“Leave me alone,” I answer, fidgeting with my things in the locker.
Devon snorts. “For the record, I am kidding. I didn’t talk to your gran. Didn’t go to your house this morning. I just wanted to know how you’d react. And I think you care about what your gran would think of me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Totally do.”
“No, I don’t.” I pull a book out, shut my locker, and start to walk again.
He catches up with me. “FYI, I have decided to move in with my father and his family.”
That statement takes me by complete surprise. “Oh,” I mutter.
I want to ask him what exactly changed his mind after last night’s debacle but then again, it’s not my place to ask him about his personal life.
“Why is it that you know quite a lot of things about my life but I know nothing about yours?” he asks. “Tell me something about yourself.”
“I wish my life was amazing enough to talk about in the hallways of Westford High,” I say dryly.
“No problem. Come over to my trailer after school and we can talk. Just you and me. You don’t have to bring Jackson to have a reason to be there.” He winks.
I roll my eyes at him. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
“What? Are you worried my father will walk in on us like he did yesterday and screwed everything up?” He scoffs. “Trust me screwing up is his a-game.”
I’m about to respond but then I see Luke walking in from the opposite direction. Devon suddenly takes my arm and pins me to the wall, drawing me into his intense sea blue orbs. I shudder under his touch when he tucks a loose strand behind my ears. He then trails a long index finger from the side of my head, to my cheek, down to my jaw with utmost leisure. I’m helpless as he manipulates my breath to rise and fall to his accord.
I know Luke is watching us but I can’t think straight right now. Devon settles a hot gaze on my quivering lips.
“He’s gone…” I manage to hiss against his thumb as I watch Luke walking away.
“But I don’t want to step back,” Devon slurs, tracing my lips with his thumb.
I won’t give in this time. “I don’t care. You have to,” I say sharply.
That doesn’t deter him. “The pig boy doesn’t give a damn who you’re with. More importantly, you don’t care if he cares or not, Eleanor.”
“That’s not true,” I argue even though all of me agrees with him.
“Fine. Prove yourself. Push me away,” he challenges. “I swear I will back off.”
I don’t want to push him away. I can’t. I want to kiss him. I want to feel him bad. But I won’t.
So I bring my hands to his chest and jerk him away.
Devon stumbles backwards, shock and disbelief prominent on his face. He just can’t believe I did that to him. Our eyes meet. I see a muscle in his stony jaw tick hard as his hands curl into fists. I can’t tell if it is his pride that is hurt or something else. I hope it is the pride and nothing else.
I turn and walk away, albeit with a throbbing heart.
I have to end this thing with him. Before it’s too late. Before it gets too dangerous. For me.
***
It is my first time at the Parkers’. I promised Jackson that I’ll come over to read to him. I’m also aware that Devon has moved back in.
I climb onto their beautifully columned front porch and am just about to press the doorbell when I see the door already ajar. I act upon my instincts and slowly push the door open wide to step inside. The moment I step in, an eerie vibe whips me hard in the nerves. As I walk in further, I feel…intimidated?
There is nothing wrong in the air. It is normal just like the air in other houses but still I find it difficult to breathe well. I grow uncomfortable as I look around. Again, there is nothing wrong with the place. The house is well-furnished and seems homey too but then why does it feel like I have walked straight into the mouth of a desert?
There was no one around. Not even a faint sound.
I wonder how it is possible to be happy in this place. It doesn’t give out the vibe of being warm and welcoming to its visitors. In fact, it’s the kind of house that would make you feel…depressed?
But the interiors are nothing but swanky. The majestic chandelier hangs from the ceiling; the furniture is of a very fine quality; the beautiful mantelpiece that also has a fireplace at the bottom center; artistically woven carpets spread out on the floor; and various wooden and glass artifacts, both vintage and modern, stand arranged on those wall shelves.
It seems that the house is hiding the real identities of the people living in it. I wouldn’t say that the family has one big secret of any kind, but there might be something really bad that needs to be kept hidden. Everybody in this house seems to have secrets. Secrets of their own. Secrets that they can’t share with each other. I wonder how it is like for a kid like Jackson to live with people who wear masks to hide their true colors.
Again: A Young Adult Romance Page 7