“You know, I looked it up. It is possible to die from an Adderall overdose. Someone could get seriously hurt here. And, if I was you, I’d be worried that ‘It got away from me’ wouldn’t really hold up in court.”
“I know, okay?” Matt yelled. He banged his hand on the chair. “Not like it matters anymore. Bodhi and I are done. He’s in jail probably ratting me out. Everyone here’s going to hate me for dropping the ball. It’s done.” He chewed at a cuticle on his thumb. “You know, if this gets out, people are going to think it was you.”
“Me? But, I’ve had nothing to do with you and Bodhi. That’s your thing.”
“Yeah well, people are talking. This little position hasn’t made you a lot of fans.”
Devon felt queasy again. “What are you talking about?”
“What do you think? No one trusts you anymore, Devon. Word is you’re telling Robins everything that happens in here. So, I’m going to go. They can’t require me to be here for this bullshit.” Matt brushed his stringy hair out of his face, wincing when his hand swiped his black eye.
“But.…” Devon started. But nothing, he was right. It was better if he didn’t tell her anything. “Matt, who said I was telling Robins anything?”
“Why would I tell you that?”
“Just curious.”
“If I was you, I’d drop this counseling thing completely. Stop talking to me, to Isla. We don’t need you poking your head in our lives, okay?”
“Wait, did Isla tell you to say that? Did she tell you that I’m telling Robins everything? That’s not the truth, Matt. I swear it isn’t.” She knew she sounded as if she were begging, but she couldn’t help it. She was. “Let’s keep talking.”
Matt was already opening the door. “I can’t tell you anything else,” he said over his shoulder.
HEADMASTER WYLER PACED ACROSS the gravel circle at the bottom of the amphitheater. A vast semi-circle of stone steps and wooden benches sunk into bright green grass, the amphitheater was used whenever the weather was good enough for the school to conduct their daily assemblies outside—about 80 percent of the school year. But why this special assembly had been called out of the blue had everyone guessing. Wyler silently watched students file into their seats.
Devon saw Presley and Pete squeeze onto a bench near the top. Their arms were intertwined, as if sitting next to each other wasn’t close enough. Devon was glad she hadn’t chosen a seat yet. They would be completely annoying to be near right now.
“How’d it go this morning?” Raven asked, popping up next to Devon.
“I turned it on and chilled. After that, who knows, right?” She spotted Grant taking a seat on a middle bench with Raj. Grant nodded to Devon, beckoning her over. “Wanna sit down?” She asked Raven. Raven followed her and they sat down next to Grant and Raj.
“Ten bucks says it’s a new drug rule,” Raj Kahn leaned in and whispered to Grant and Devon. His eyes landed on Raven. “Raj,” he said, extending a hand to shake Raven’s. She smiled, shaking hands.
“Raven,” she said.
“Raven has a boyfriend, Raj,” Devon said. “Watch yourself.”
“I’ll consider myself warned then,” Raj said with a smile.
“You been in session?” Grant whispered in Devon’s ear. He directed his eyes at Raven. She shook her head, no. “Just a friend,” she whispered back. Whose brother I am trying to investigate. Raven was spinning her bracelets on her arm again, lost in thought.
Grant wrapped an arm around Devon’s shoulder as Headmaster Wyler cleared his throat and tapped the microphone. “As you are all well aware, our community has suffered a terrible tragedy already in this short school term,” he began. “We, as the faculty appointed by your parents are here to protect you.” Raj slapped Grant’s arm. Other students mumbled and shifted in their seats. Wyler continued. “But, with that in mind, we felt as if we could all use a little break. A way of looking forward.” He smiled. “So we’re going to have a Pop-Up Party. No sports this afternoon. The party will start at six P.M. Dinner will be served on Raiter Lawn.”
Students jumped up and cheered. Grant slapped Raj’s arm. “You lose, dude! Ten bucks!”
Raven laughed and put a hand over her heart. “I don’t know why, but I was really worried he had bad news or something,” she whispered. “I don’t think I could have handled it.”
Devon nodded, even though she felt unsettled. Maybe wallowing in misery wasn’t the best response to the Hutch “tragedy,” but maybe it was a bit too soon for a party? On other hand, she appeared to be the only student who felt that way. “It’s perfect timing,” she heard herself say. “Now you can get out of here early and go meet Bodhi when he gets home. I’m sure he’ll have a lot to tell you.” What are you doing, Devon? She’s not your spy.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll call you later.” Raven hoisted her backpack over her shoulder.
“Wait, Raven,” Devon said. “Thanks again for helping me this morning. It was sort of above-and-beyond of you.”
Raven smiled and suddenly pulled Devon into a hug. “I’m happy we’re friends. It feels like Hutch would approve, you know.” She walked away, leaving Devon with a pit in her stomach. Raven was right, Hutch would approve of their friendship, while he would completely disapprove of Devon’s second guesses about Bodhi. Wouldn’t he?
“So, you wanna make good use of this Pop-Up?” Grant’s question brought Devon back into the celebratory chaos.
“Good use?”
Grant wrapped an arm around her waist. “You can’t tell me that now, when the whole school is stopping to have fun for the night, that you have other things to do.”
“Don’t you have the same classes I do? I’ve got crazy amounts of homework.” But even she could hear how thin that excuse sounded.
“Devon, there will always be homework. Always. But you and me? If that’s not better than homework, then I should just give up now. Seriously. If you’d rather do homework, then I won’t stand in your way.” His eyes searched her face for an answer.
Devon smiled. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It feels like I haven’t had free time in so long, I don’t really know what to do with it.”
“Yeah?” Grant’s smile spread across his whole face. His eyes crinkled into smiling lines.
“Yeah. You and me is definitely better than homework.”
“Cool. How about you go do what you gotta do for a bit. I’ll come by and get you when it’s dark, okay?” Grant kissed her on the lips and stood.
“Okay,” Devon said back.
Grant turned and disappeared into the jubilant crowd, filing out of the amphitheater. She fell in line, her head reeling. What did she just agree to? She had to find Presley. Devon turned toward Bay House and saw Cleo walking across the lawn toward her. Devon gave her a slight wave. “Hey.”
“We gotta talk,” Cleo said. “Faire une promenade?” Devon squinted in response. “Wanna go for a walk?” Cleo explained, steering her toward Bay House.
“Oh, okay sure. Why? What’s up?”
“You and Grant are a thing now, huh?” Cleo asked.
“Yeah, I guess. Why?”
“I don’t want to rain on your parade or anything, and seriously, you’re a little high strung. You deserve a parade. But, just keep your eyes open with Grant. I don’t know that he’s everything he fronts.”
Devon stopped walking. The wind picked up and she wrapped her arms across her chest as a chill rippled through her body. “Why are you saying this? Grant’s been really great.”
“D’accord. I’m sure he has been, but I’m just looking out for you.” Cleo smiled and walked away. Devon scowled. Why would Cleo say that to her? It had to be because she was jealous? Grant was a good guy. Devon wasn’t sure she wanted a boyfriend, but she trusted Grant. He had earned that after two years of being her friend. Cleo was probably laughing at her ability to mess with Devon. Don’t let her get in your head, Devon. She’s just playing with you.
“WHEN IT�
�S DARK? THAT’S what he said? Oh, baby!” Presley squealed, applying eyeliner in her dorm room mirror before dinner.
“What? Why ‘oh baby?’ ” Devon muttered from Presley’s striped duvet.
“Because someone’s gonna get laaa-id!” Presley sang. “You ready for that?” Presley moved onto mascara.
“But really? How did you know just from that?”
Presley paused and arched an eyebrow. “Simple. ’Cause guys don’t actually go to the trouble to make plans about anything unless there is sex in it for them. Grant wants to seal the deal. So the only question is, do you?” She turned and waited for Devon’s answer. “Well, bee-yotch? Do you?”
Devon slumped over to her side. “I don’t know. I mean, how do you actually know?”
“Good point,” Presley turned back to the mirror. “You don’t know necessarily. I think mostly it just happens and then you decide afterward if you were ready or not.”
“That’s not the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Look, my theory is that losing your V card is like taking the training wheels off a bike. You gotta lose it first to know what you’re really working with. Then you can start having fun and all the romantic stuff you think comes along with. Should I wear black and sexy, or pink and lacey?” Presley held up two different bras.
“I don’t know. Clearly I’m out of my depth here.” Devon stood and shuffled to Presley’s door.
“Hey, slutface.” Presley stopped her. “Don’t stress. Don’t over-think, ’cause I know you will. Grant’s a good guy. Just relax and enjoy the ride. And if you don’t do it, that’s cool, too. I’ve seen the way Grant looks at you. He’ll still like you afterward no matter what.” Presley squeezed Devon’s hand.
“He is a good guy, right? Like, I can trust him?”
“Totally. He’s crazy about you. Of course you can trust him. Duh. Now stop being lame and go find some matching underwear.”
TWO HOURS, FIVE OUTFITS, and one barely read chapter of A Tale of Two Cities later, Grant knocked on Devon’s window. As usual he wore the LAX baseball cap, brim pulled low, but he had changed into a fresh shirt and jeans. Devon immediately spotted the green blanket tucked beneath his arm.
“Ready, sugar?” he asked.
Devon stepped out her room. She had decided on a blue dress that Presley said made her boobs look good, and matching black bra and underwear. “Yeah, let’s do it—I mean, I’m ready.”
“I got a good place in mind, come on.” Grant wrapped an arm around her shoulder and walked her up the hill. Screams came from Spring House next door, and they could see water balloons being tossed from trees and behind bushes.
“Freshman.” Grant laughed.
“Remember that bread fight when we were freshman?”
“There was no toast the rest of the week because we swiped so much bread from the kitchen.”
“I remember I even found bread in my hair the next day,” Devon said.
“I think Matt hit me over the head with a baguette,” Grant added.
“I got hit with a pita pocket in the eye. Hutch was flinging them like Frisbees,” Devon said. She hadn’t even realized it, but the mention of his name stopped them both.
“Hey,” Grant said, turning her toward her. “I know you’re still going through a lot of Hutch stuff. But, I’m the one that’s here. And I like you, Devon.”
“I … I know. And I’m sorry. But why? I mean, that sounds stupid, but I kind of want to know why.”
“You really don’t know? Okay, well. You’re hot, but you don’t know that you’re hot, which makes you hotter.”
She laughed, her face suddenly warm. “I guess that’s a compliment?”
“You’re smart, like really, scary, smart. You’re a good kisser.” He leaned forward and planted his lips on hers, then withdrew.
“I didn’t know that,” she whispered.
“It’s true,” he said. “And, you are really selfless, which most people aren’t, and that’s kind of amazing.” He kissed her again. “Is that what you wanted to know?”
“Thank you.” She looked at Grant, his smiling face, his long nose, and the stubble on his chin. He’s here, and he likes me, she thought. And I like him. Screw Cleo.
They turned and walked over the hill, past the Dining Hall. The kitchen staff had set up barbeques, grilling burgers and corn on the cob outside. The gasoline-y smell of charcoal reminded Devon of the summer, now gone. Movement down the hill near the History classrooms caught Devon’s eye. A flash of red: Matt holding a blanket. Followed by … Isla? Yes. Definitely. They disappeared behind the classrooms. So, Cleo was right about Matt hooking up with someone. But Devon would have never guessed Isla.
“Hey, you coming?” Grant was pulling Devon down the hill.
“Yeah, sorry,” she said. You can process that later, she told herself. But her mind wouldn’t let her. Matt and Isla? Together? Maybe it made sense in a twisted way since they were the two closest people to Hutch.
Moments later, Devon found herself being led into the art building. Grant opened a door to a student’s studio and led her inside, closing the door behind her. It reminded Devon of her therapy room. A wooden easel held a half-painted bowl of fruit on canvas, and a tall closet took up the corner. Devon shuffled her feet against the cool cement slab floor.
“Hold on,” he said. Grant laid his blanket on the ground and then pulled two pillows from the closet, placing them next to the blanket.
“Who’s studio is this?”
“Raj’s. Don’t worry, it’s cool. I brought the pillows down here, they’re not his.” He reached into the closet and brought out a candle. “A little mood lighting.” And then he brought out his iPod and pressed play. “A new playlist. What dya think?”
“You really thought this through.” Devon was kind of impressed. It was a valiant attempt at boarding school romance, all things considered.
“Come here,” Grant said. He pulled her close and started kissing her. Devon let herself enjoy the kiss, enjoy Grant holding her tight. Slowly, carefully, he lowered her to the floor and put a pillow behind her head. “Are you okay?” he whispered.
She nodded. Her heart thumped. So. This was it. The training wheels were going to come off. Grant lay on top of her, the weight of his body pressing the air out of her chest.
“Hold on,” he said. He rolled to the side and pulled a keychain from his pocket. “These don’t feel so good.” It rattled on the floor next to Devon’s head. He started kissing her neck and she could feel him searching for the zipper to her dress.
“Wait,” she said and rolled to the side. Grant pulled back and watched as Devon reached behind her and unzipped her dress. She pulled it over her head and placed the pile of cloth on the floor next to them. As she lay back down, Grant’s keychain caught the light from his candle and metal flashed in Devon’s eyes. A bottle opener. Familiar-looking. A green bottle opener with a white cursive G at the top. Not “G” for Grant … no, that same beer bottle G. The part of Devon that was enjoying the moment, that was keeping other thoughts at bay because kissing Grant felt so good, whooshed from her like air out of a flat tire. She sat up and reached for her dress again.
“What is it? Are you okay?” Grant asked.
“Um, sorry, I.…” She tried to put it all together. The bottles near the Palace. The label in the car. Grant with the same opener. Most of all: Cleo’s being right about Matt. If she was right about Matt, she could be right about Grant, too. It wasn’t a coincidence. There was no such thing.
“I gotta go.”
CHAPTER 12
Name: Isla Martin
Session Date: Oct. 3
Session #3
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up today or not,” Devon said. “I’m glad you did.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like I’m going to talk to you about anything.” Isla stared up at the ceiling. “I know you’re just here to rat on us to Wyler.”
“But you’re here anyway. Is the
re something you want to talk about?”
Isla shrugged and turned the window, pretending to be bored. Let her talk first. She picked at her nails, which were even more ragged and chipped than usual.
“Okay, fine.” Devon gave in. “There is something I want to talk about with you. You and Matt? How long has that been going on?”
Isla pressed her lips together. The veins in her neck seemed to tighten.
“Did you hear what I said?” Devon asked, purposely being overly polite.
She slowly brought her eyes back to Devon. “Matt? We’re not like a thing or anything. It’s just that, since Hutch, you know, Matt’s the only person that really gets what it’s like.”
“What it’s like to lose someone close to you?”
“Yeah, that. And.…” Isla looked out the window again.
“And.…” Devon tried to draw out the answer.
“Forget it. It’s nothing.” Isla snapped. She lifted up her sleeve to scratch at her arm, and Devon noticed a series of scratches scabbed and hidden underneath Isla’s shirt. “I know who it is,” she added, answering an unasked question.
“Who what is?”
“The slut that Hutch was with. It’s your little freshman BFF, Raven.”
Devon forced herself to look down and pretend to write something in her notebook, frightened her face would betray her feelings.
“After Bodhi got arrested at the game, Matt told me that Bodhi and his little sister worked on the Hutchins vineyard over the summer,” Isla went on. “That little day student with her crappy Volvo. Just cause she surfs, she thinks she’s all local and cool, but they’re just a bunch of losers.” She glared at Devon as she spoke, daring her to defend Raven and Bodhi.
“I heard that they worked there this summer. But that doesn’t—”
“I knew it! I knew you would defend the lying bitch.” Spit flew from Isla’s mouth as she yelled.
“Isla, I’m not defending anyone. I just want to help.”
Keaton School 01: Escape Theory Page 18