“I have practice,” he said, and forced a smile.
I cleared my throat again and nodded. “Cool. What kind of practice?”
“Basketball.”
“Basketball?” I stared at Jesse, trying not to look too surprised. I hadn’t pegged Jesse for the sporty type.
“Yeah. I’ve been playing since grade school.”
“That’s, um, really cool.” I yanked my hair back into a ponytail, my neck and face growing hot with embarrassment. “So you’re in basketball and band?”
“Yeah,” Jesse said. He smiled, but only a little bit. “I play drums.”
“You do?”
“Yep.”
“That’s—impressive.” I straightened up, trying to breathe without hyperventilating. I had no idea why I was feeling so anxious. Jesse hadn’t made that impression on me until now. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type for either of those things,” I admitted.
“Never trust a first impression.” Jesse smiled again—a polite smile—and turned to leave.
“Wait,” I said, and stepped forward.
Jesse turned toward me again.
“I never got the chance to thank you. You know, for dealing with Elijah. That was—kind of you.” I paused, flustered. “I mean, it’s not like I condone violence, but I had the urge to hit him myself. You just beat me to the punch.” I stopped again, thought of my words, and then had to resist the urge to laugh.
Jesse’s smile grew. “That was punny,” he said.
I flushed, remembering how awkward it had been the night I’d tried to joke with Elijah when all my sarcasm had fallen flat. “Anyway,” I said. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”
“Ditto.” Jesse nodded once and then turned back around, vanishing into the boy’s locker room.
I watched him go, silently pleading for him to stay. Weeks ago, I hadn’t seen him as anything but a geeky guy in school. Today—well, today everything was different. The only problem, I feared, is that I was too late.
The rain had let up little by the time I walked outside to find Audrey. Emma’s mom, for once, was there to pick her up in the parking lot. I waved goodbye through the pounding rain and found Audrey waiting for Noah and me in the Mustang. We climbed into the car, and Noah shook off like a dog, spraying Audrey and me with water.
“You would,” Audrey said with a smile as she leaned down to turn the heat up.
Noah, who had one earbud plugged into his ear canal, smiled. “Is Olivia’s teacher coming for dinner tonight?” he asked.
Audrey glanced at him from the rear-view mirror. “He is. Are you okay with that?”
There was a beat of silence and then, “Yeah. He seems kind of cool.”
The relief on Audrey’s face was evident, and I knew how much a blessing from Noah meant. If he disapproved of anything, he was not shy to show it.
“What about you, Liv?” Audrey asked. “Are you okay with how much Jake has been coming over?”
“I think so,” I said, recalling the conversation we’d had at lunch. “He’s good for you, Audrey. He grounds you.”
A slow smile spread across Audrey’s face, and a dreamy look came to her eyes. A daydream. “You know what? I think so, too.”
Had I predicted how quickly the night would go to shit, I would have stepped in before it began. But I had no idea. None of us did.
Mr. Devereaux showed up to dinner on time carrying flowers for Audrey and chocolate balls for Noah and me. He had gone with the rose idea, but they were not just red. There was an array of whites and oranges and pink and yellow. It was gorgeous, and Audrey gushed over them. She’d prepared my favorite for dinner: pot roast, mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, and homemade rolls. Noah and I had dug out old Christmas candles to light up the dining table, making it much more inviting. Audrey poured herself and Mr. Devereaux a glass of wine and cider for Noah and me. We settled into the chairs and, although Audrey wasn’t religious, she said grace. I wondered if she was trying to impress Mr. Devereaux, who, from what I had gathered, wasn’t religious either.
“This is beautiful,” Mr. Devereaux said. “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in years.”
“You’re kidding,” said Audrey. I hid a giggle, knowing she hadn’t, either. Noah rolled his eyes and stuffed his mouth with mashed potatoes. They were potatoes from a box, and some parts were still flaky, but no one seemed to mind—or risk saying anything.
“I’m not kidding.” Mr. Devereaux took a bite of his roast and smiled at her. “My wife died six years ago. She was the cook in the house. With her gone, it’s takeout and TV dinners.”
“I remember you telling me about your wife,” Audrey said. She sipped her wine, looking nervous. “I was married once, too.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” said Mr. Devereaux, but he didn’t sound angry.
“I know.” Audrey set her glass of wine down, and then picked it up again.
I cleared my throat, but she didn’t seem to notice. I vaguely remembered her first husband, a burly man with bad breath and a receding hairline.
“He was an asshole,” Audrey said. “It ended in divorce.” She took another drink, and I considered yanking the wine from her fingers before she overdid it.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Next, Noah belched. Audrey and I both shot him a withering look, and he shrugged his shoulders.
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” I said to Mr. Devereaux. “He has the table manners of an ape.”
“I did, too, when I was that age,” he said with a smile.
Noah shrugged again and looked at Audrey. “Are you going to the club tonight?” he asked, and picked up a burned roll to stuff into his mouth like a cave dweller.
A silence fell over the table then, and both Audrey and I froze, our utensils in mid-air. Mr. Devereaux looked up from his plate of pot roast. He stared at Noah and Audrey. I sank in my chair, hoping to disappear, but he turned his gaze on me anyway.
“What club?” he asked.
“Her club,” said Noah. I almost expected him to add a snarky duh after it.
I lowered my fork, and Audrey did the same. Mr. Devereaux cleared his throat.
“I’m still not following,” he said.
Audrey pushed her plate to the side and then did the same with her glass of wine. She cleared her throat, and I scooted back from the table then, unsure of whether I should stay and listen or take Noah and go.
“I guess I can’t hide it forever,” Audrey said. She forced a smile, but it was uncertain. “I lied to you when I told you that I worked for a magazine. I don’t.” She placed her hands on the table and folded them, trying to look confident. She wasn’t succeeding. “I own my own business. I own a club.”
“A club?” Mr. Devereaux repeated. “Like a dance club?”
“As if,” Noah mumbled.
Audrey’s eyes flashed over, and she met my gaze.
All I could offer her was a deer-in-the-headlights look of horror.
“Kind of,” she said. “It’s more like an—exotic dance club. A male dance club.”
Noah, apparently just realizing his mistake, looked down at his dinner plate with a somber expression. Audrey and I braved it out, looking to Mr. Devereaux for a response. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and then reached over to take a drink of wine. He set the glass down after a moment and then looked back at Audrey. The hush that enshrouded the room was so complete my ears rang.
“You own a strip club and never thought to tell me?” he said. “How can you expect to have a stable relationship if you can’t even be honest with me, Audrey?”
“I’m sorry, Jake,” she said. Suddenly, she was desperate.
I developed an urge to throw something at someone, just for the distraction, but my limbs had frozen over. “I just—didn’t know how you would react. I didn’t want to lose you over it.”
Mr. Devereaux pushed away from the table and stood, tossing his napkin down with anger.
Audrey half ro
se, but then changed her mind and sank back into her seat.
I looked straight ahead, my gaze focusing on the half-empty wine glass on the tabletop.
“You wouldn’t have lost me for being honest,” he said. “But I can’t have a relationship with someone who can’t tell me things.”
Not even Noah spoke as Mr. Devereaux gathered up his jacket and keys and walked out the door, shutting it forcefully behind him.
A tense hush fell over the table as the three of us listened to Mr. Devereaux’s car pull away from the curb.
After another couple of seconds, Noah spoke. “I’m sorry, Aunt Audrey. I didn’t know.” He sounded so sincere that I wanted to hug him, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. I was numb—frozen in time. Audrey lifted her head from her hands and took a deep breath. Her expression was one of pain, but she forced a smile.
“It’s not your fault, Noah, it’s mine. I should have been honest going into this.” She picked up the wine glass and took another drink—a swallow instead of a sip. I looked down at my half-finished plate of dinner, all appetite ultimately turned off.
“Well, if I thought seeing him at school was awkward before—” I chuckled, but my attempt at humor fell short. Really short.
Audrey put her face in her hands and sniffed, and Noah gave me a withering look.
“You deserve better,” he said to her, reciting the same words Avery had spoken to me. I knew from personal experience it wouldn’t help, but anything was worth a try. Better than what I was doing by far. I was so angry with Mr. Devereaux just then. Angry enough to yell, shout, and give him a piece of my mind.
“I’m sorry, guys,” Audrey said. She raised her head, looking like a raccoon with her mascara-stained cheeks and eyes. “I’m sorry I dragged you into the middle of this.”
Noah left his chair and came around the table to put his arms around Audrey’s shoulders. It was the first time he had hugged anyone since Mom died, and my heart ached.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. In that moment at the dinner table, he no longer looked like a stubborn, thirteen-year-old kid. He looked like a man; a man whose job was now to take care of the two women left in his life. Also in that moment I realized that was what he had been doing this whole time—taking care of Audrey and me.
“Go on up to bed,” Audrey said. “I’ll clean up dinner.” We did as she said, knowing she needed time to herself. I was still so angry with Mr. Devereaux for storming out on us like an angry teenager. I had thought better of him, like a good guy had come into Audrey’s life to help take care of her. It was devastating to discover that he was no better than Elijah.
When I got to my room, I considered calling Emma, but I put it off, knowing I’d see her tomorrow at school. I lay down on my bed and stared at the ceiling instead. I felt a sudden urge to cry myself to sleep. Two days, two rejected and pitiful women. Life was clarifying that we needed no one else. If there was a God, he was telling us that all we needed was each other. Forever and always.
I was nervous to go to class the next day. It was raining when Audrey dropped us off at school. No word of Jake Devereaux was spoken since he’d gone, but Audrey was trying to be positive as she plastered a smile on her face and tried to make small talk with Noah and me. It failed miserably, as neither of us was in the mood to be cheerful. I just wanted the day to end.
“You look like shit,” Emma said as we walked toward our history class. “You okay?”
For a split second, I considered brushing her off. I wanted nothing more than to keep my mouth shut and get on with the day, but Emma was my friend. She had become my best friend since we’d been in Seattle, and best friends were trusted and confided in. So instead of putting on my fake smile, I pulled her aside before class and told her about the night. When I finished, there was a frown on Emma’s face. She, too, looked sad for us. Seeing her reaction almost made me tear up, but I pushed it back and took a deep, shaky breath.
“What an ass,” she said finally. “I never would have expected that.”
“Me either,” I said. “Audrey is devastated.” Emma linked her arm in mine as we continued to class. That was a good thing because my legs felt shaky and my stomach was churning with nausea. I wanted to turn and run away—far away from Mr. Devereaux, from school, and from Seattle in general. But I knew I couldn’t. I was here. Come hell or high water, I was here.
Jesse had saved Emma and me our regular desks when we walked into the classroom. Despite the little flip-flop my tummy did when I saw him, I had more important things to focus on than the cute basketball-playing boy. I kept my gaze averted from Mr. Devereaux, standing at the dry erase board writing down our chapters for the day. As we entered, he must have seen us from the corner of his eye, because he turned to look at me. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again, defeated. Emma mumbled something incoherent under her breath, probably cursing his name, but I kept my composure and sat at my usual desk, keeping my eyes down. I worried that if I looked at him, I might blush. Or even worse, cry.
“Are you okay?” Jesse asked, leaning forward. “You look upset, Liv.”
“I’m okay,” I choked, and then shut my mouth before I could have a complete mental breakdown.
Emma shot me a sympathetic look before turning in her desk to catch Jesse up on the drama. I didn’t care what she told him—Jesse was my friend and having friends at a time like this was crucial.
Class started like any other day, but Mr. Devereaux seemed distracted as he fumbled over his words. He kept glancing at me and then looking away again, flustered and lost. Deep down, I hoped he was hurting as much as Audrey was. Often, I caught movement in the corner of my eye, and turned to find Jesse staring at me, but he said nothing. A few times, his gaze looked to be one of pity, and that made me feel even worse about the situation.
After an hour, at last, the bell rang, and Emma, Jesse, and I all stood as students filed out of the classroom. It was incredible to see so many kids my age, laughing, joking, and telling crude jokes as if their own world wasn’t falling apart in front of their eyes. It probably wasn’t—only mine ever seemed to be.
Emma took my arm in hers and pulled me toward the door, as anxious as I was to get out of there. Jesse was ahead of us, but he lingered, waiting for us to catch up. I was almost out the door when something in my heart stopped me in my tracks, and I dug my feet into the tile in front of Jake Devereaux’s desk, jerking Emma to an abrupt halt beside me. I turned to face our teacher, who was looking at us now, his expression unreadable.
“It shouldn’t matter what Audrey does for a living,” I said. I was surprised by how calm I sounded, not like I was feeling on the inside: lost, hopeless, and furious. Very, very furious.
From the doorway, Jesse kept his eyes glued on the scene, not budging from his spot. I was glad he and Emma were there, even if just for the moral support. “She has a thriving business and provides a loving home for Noah and me,” I continued. “She also really, really liked you.” I took a deep breath. “Shouldn’t that be enough?”
Mr. Devereaux sighed and leaned forward on his desk, folding his hands.
“Olivia, my and your aunt’s issues shouldn’t be of concern to you and Noah. We’re adults, and we can work it out ourselves. Like adults.”
“You didn’t ‘work it out like an adult’ last night when you stormed out,” I said. “You hurt her, and all she did was be honest with you.”
From next to me, I could feel the awkwardness seeping off Emma. But I had to give her credit. Even then, she didn’t bolt. Jesse, who I knew was already late for his next class, kept still where he was, silently showing his support.
“After so long of hiding the truth, honesty stops meaning what it should,” said Mr. Devereaux. He stood up from his desk and wiped the dry erase board clean. “Besides,” he added over his shoulder. “It was inappropriate for me to date the family member of one of my students.” He dropped the eraser and turned back around. “Maybe it’s for the best.”
“Then you
have a twisted perception of what the best is,” I said.
Mr. Devereaux said nothing as I turned and walked out of the classroom. Emma, still clinging to my arm, said nothing as Jesse linked his free arm with my other side. Nothing needed to be said. I had all the support I needed, and I was grateful for it.
I didn’t see Mr. Devereaux the rest of the day, and for that, I was relieved. After our little meeting in the classroom, I wasn’t sure if I could face him again. I felt like a real jerk, but I was still hurt. I had expected an apology, and I hadn’t received one.
“I’m proud of you,” Emma said as we sat down for lunch.
I couldn’t help but notice that Jesse sat on my side of the booth instead of hers. It felt odd having him so close, but it was also comforting simultaneously.
“It took balls to call him out,” Emma went on. “I don’t think Audrey would have done it.”
“Probably for a good reason,” I said. I poked at my chicken burrito, less than enthusiastic about the new lunch item. I had never known chicken to bounce like rubber and look like molded cheese.
“It’s whatever,” Jesse said. “Someone had to say it.” He flashed me a smile and nudged me playfully on the arm. I could smell the cologne and aftershave on his skin, a compelling scent.
I resisted the urge to lean into him and inhale, and instead shrugged and stabbed at the roasted cauliflower on my tray. For a few minutes, I sat in silence wondering if I’d made a mistake and if I should apologize to him, but I made no move to get up. On the other side of the lunchroom, Gwen Riley-Patz was sitting in Elijah’s lap. They were surrounded by a hoard of so-called “popular” students. Jocks and beauty queens, scholars and honor students. As I watched them, Gwen leaned into Elijah, her golden blond hair falling over his face as they locked lips. His nose was still swollen, but not as bad. Gwen was smiling, happy as could be, as was he. I wondered if they knew how terribly they had destroyed someone’s world.
“So much for staying friends,” I said aloud. Emma followed my gaze, and her eyes narrowed. Jesse didn’t even bother to look.
The Guys Next Door Page 10