October Breezes (8 page)

Throughout the morning, I expected Devin to find me, to say something-anything-to make this right. There had to be a way without sacrificing Devin's friendship or losing Kelin. I looked for Devin between classes. Any other day, I would have run into him once or twice, but today my searching yielded nothing, and even worse, I felt everyone stil staring, whispering. I finaly realized Devin had chosen to hide.

What had I done?

When lunchtime roled around, I shot from my desk, bypassed my locker, and headed straight to the table where Devin and I usualy ate. Even though the lunch period had just begun, a few students already sat there. I stood in the cafeteria doorway, clutching my books, waiting. After five minutes, I lowered my books and walked down the hal, peering in classrooms as I went. Finaly, I saw him sitting with Bethany Fields in the courtyard. Devin straddled the concrete bench, and an open notebook lay between him and Bethany. Head down, he appeared to be reading. I cracked the door just enough to hear him reciting a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and Devin, more than competent at oral reading, stumbled over the words. I started to go out, but seeing her lean toward him, grab his arm and laugh, I froze. Devin's laughter joined hers. I stepped back and let the door close as my books slipped from my grasp. Hearing the door catch, Devin looked up.

His eyes met mine, and he looked away, a deep flush coloring his cheeks. He closed the notebook and turned his back to me.

I stumbled backward, and my whole body trembled violently. I tried to blink away the tears, but they kept coming.

Relieved at the empty halway, I leaned against the wal and cried, my whole body hurting as I'd never known possible. Above me red and white banners waved, swayed by the heater's gusts. I don’t know how long I remained there, only that a few moments later a familiar voice said, “Skye? You al right?” Kelin, wearing a black and red wind suit, stood next to the fountain, his finger stil resting on the button. When I didn't immediately speak, he lightly grasped my elbow.

My hands flew to my face and brushed the tears away.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. Did Becca say something else? Is that why you’re crying?”

“No.”

He slid his arm around me, his fingers gently squeezing my shoulder. “Anything I can do?” He peered intently at me, concern filing his blue eyes.

“No,” I finaly said, pointing at the bathroom. “I need to go in there.”

“I’l be here.” He leaned against the wal, crossing one ankle over the other and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

I stood before the mirror and splashed cold water on my face. After patting my hair into place and washing my skin, my appearance seemed closer to normal as I re-emerged into the halway.

“Want to get lunch?”

I shrugged, dreading the thought of entering the lunch room where too many people would stare at me. “I’d rather hit the vending machines.” I puled two dolars from my pocket. “But don’t let me stop you from getting a burger.”

He shook his head. “Maybe I’d rather just have chips and a soda with you than a burger and fries with Tyler. Let’s face it : while al the girls think he’s a razzle-dazzle man, you’re much more interesting.” He, too, reached into his pockets and puled out a few bils. Together, we waited to get a snack, then sat on the foyer's wooden benches to eat.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly as other students miled about us. Becca and another cheerleader floated past by and, Becca opened her mouth, but Kelin frowned, effectively silencing her. After that, they hurried past.

“There’s no point.” I crumpled the empty bag and tossed it into the trash can. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that talking doesn’t make a difference.”

After school I purposely waited, digging through my locker as though searching for something important. I arranged my books and threw away the trash littering the bottom. Every time I glimpsed someone passing, I turned, stil expecting Devin would show. I kept hoping, even after most of the students had gone.

Maybe you should have gotten on the bus. He said he
wasn’t going to give you a ride anymore.
I shut my locker and resigned myself to a brisk walk. Sliding one arm into my jacket sleeve and then the other, I turned and ran into Kelin, my shoulder bumping his chest. The impact threw me backward, and he grabbed my forearm to steady me. Once sure of my balance, his grip eased.

“Hey.”

“Why are you stil here?” I zipped my coat.

He shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you're okay. You were so upset at lunch, and I know you didn’t realy want to talk. I thought you might want some company.” He scanned the empty halways. “I didn’t know if you'd stil be here, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

“I’m fine.” I pointed to the stairwel. “I was just leaving.”

Kelin nodded. “Where's Devin? Doesn’t he normaly give you a ride?” He brushed the bangs from my eyes.

“Yeah, but today he had something he needed to do.” I puled my backpack over one shoulder. “That’s al right. I can walk.” I stepped toward the stairs, and he folowed.

"It's pretty cold out there. How 'bout I give you a ride?"

I took one last glance up and down the hal and saw no sign of Devin. "That would be great."

Our steps fel into a natural rhythm, and he slid his arm around my waist. “Does that bother you?”

My feelings were so mixed at this point, I just shook my head. “No.” Together we walked to his car, where he opened the door. Al during the ride home, a silence grew until even the radio couldn’t fil. Stil, he rested his hand atop mine and hummed the song playing as if he knew I didn’t want to talk.

When we arrived at my house, he puled into the empty driveway and turned off the radio. “We’re here.”

“I guess we are.” I opened the door. “I’m sorry I’ve been so upset lately.”

He squeezed my hand softly as a gentle smile played across his features. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Skye.” He leaned toward me and kissed my cheek, then nuzzled my ear. “We have plenty of time to get to know each other, and you are definitely worth waiting for.”

I clung to him, alowing myself to become lost in his warmth and security. He drew me closer. I finaly kissed his cheek and gently puled away. “I should go.” Grabbing my book bag, I opened the door. “I’d ask you to come in except my mom's not here.”

“That’s al right,” he said, nodding. “I’l see you tomorrow, okay?” He leaned toward me and pecked my cheek.

I nodded, stepping out of the car. Bounding up the front porch steps, I unlocked the door and once inside peered out, watching Kelin drive away while setting my bag on the couch.

Although I opened my English book and tried to get to work, I re-read the same section over and over without understanding it. I could have done the review sections, but I couldn't shake the image of Devin with Bethany.

In choosing not to give up on Kelin, I had lost the one thing I thought nothing could destroy--Devin's friendship. It had been the only security I believed in completely.

More than once, I dialed Devin’s number, only to get the answering machine, and no matter what I wanted to say to Devin, I couldn’t leave a message, so I hung up and waited a few more minutes before trying to cal again. Maybe I couldn’t even do it over the phone, but I had to keep trying.

Finaly, the last time I caled, Devin's mom answered.

“Mrs. Abbott, this is Skye. Could I speak with Devin?”

“I’m sorry, Skye. He’s not here. He’s studying with Bethany at the library.”

I cringed, envisioning them standing in front of the library, Bethany bracing against a stone pilar as Devin leaned close to her.

At once, their gazes locked, and Devin dipped forward and kissed her. His mouth probed hers deeper and his arms slid around her, drawing her closer until he leaned back, smiling gently. The two laughed, and he kissed her forehead.

Gritting my teeth, I tried to banish the image, but it wouldn't go. “Do you know when he’l be home?”

“A couple of hours.”

I looked at the clock. 4:30. “Could you tel him I caled?”

“Wil do.”

I hung up the phone, gathered my books, and headed to my room, waiting, and stil wondering what I'd say to spare our friendship. I tried doing homework, reading my book, painting my toenails, and everything else I could think of to make time go by.

Stil no cals.

From my bed, I watched the clock. I only left my bedroom long enough to eat, and I excused my silence as stil not feeling wel. Stil, by 10:30, Devin had not caled, and I knew he never would. He’d meant what he’d said.

For my mom's benefit, I pretended Devin stil drove me to and from school. Actualy, I walked. Everyday as I strode past the living room window, I expected her to look out and see me hiking down the sidewalk, yet somehow at the very moment she might have glimpsed me walking away, she never peered out—or, if she did, she kept quiet. She knew Devin, and if he were that put off by Kelin, how could I explain why I wanted to date him? Besides, my mom was so caught up with the Mockingbird Man she failed to notice that Devin, who usualy caled every night, had stopped caling. Kelin and I ate lunch together, and he walked me to class. I often spied Becca conveniently perched at friend's locker close to Kelin and me, or she and her friends would sit at the lunch table closest to ours. I knew what she was waiting for.

More than once, her gaze traveled over me, sizing me up.

Each day her coordinated outfit changed only in which dress code she violated--short skirt, crop top, naval piercing--al of which she used to lure Kelin. Becca assumed Kelin dated me because I put out, but that only proved how little she knew. I’d never even been with a guy.

Kelin must've realized my friendship with Devin had falen through because he kept giving me rides. He never asked questions even though he must have had them, and instead of focusing on Devin, I tried to enjoy Kelin, tried to think about laying my head on his chest, his arms around me, drawing me close. I also tried to think positively about my date with my dad, but we hadn’t seen each other in years. What would I say, "Hey, how's your life been?"

I tried to talk to my mother as we prepared lasagna, but I didn't know how to start a conversation about my father. She didn’t have much to say as she washed the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers, her fingers caressing the vegetables’ skins, carefuly seeking bruised spots.

“Don’t expect too much,” Mom warned, then pointed toward the cabinet. “Hand me a large bowl.”

“That’s great advice, Mom.” I handed her the bowl.

“Can’t you be more positive?”

She took it and wiped it out with a paper towel. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, Skye. Your father’s great about getting people excited only to disappoint them. If you don’t expect much, then you won’t be disappointed, now wil you? How’s that for positive?” She brushed the bangs from her eyes.

“It’s not.” Shaking my head, I leaned against the counter and braced myself.

She handed me the lettuce. “Break this up while I slice the tomatoes and cucumbers.” She glanced at her watch. “Dinner should be ready by the time Warren arrives.”

“He’s coming?" I clutched the lettuce so hard my fingers sank through the first layer.

“He’s not the Anti-Christ, Skye.” She grabbed a paring knife from the drawer. “I’ve dated much worse guys, and you know it. You could be nice.” Cutting her gaze to me, she picked up a tomato and quartered it.

I ripped the lettuce into bite-sized pieces and tossed them into the bowl. “What do you see in him?” One of the fluorescent bulbs flickered before going out.

“He’s a nice guy who likes me as I am, and he enjoys my teenage daughter. You're part of the package that I come with, Skye. The person in our lives has to want us both, not just me.”

The oven timer beeped, and we glanced at the oven.

“Don’t you mean speedbump teenage daughter?” I ripped the lettuce savagely. “Come on, Mom, nobody wants a step-daughter to rain on his parade. And what if I don't want him?”

“I said what I meant. Don’t put words in my mouth because you want to.” She puled out the glass pan from the oven, and the scent of oregano and melted cheese filed the air. She set it on the table over a hot plate and resumed slicing the veggies.

“You’re not giving him a fair shot. He hasn’t been mean.”

“He wil. They al end up mean.” I finished tearing the lettuce and threw away the stem.

Mom stopped slicing and glared. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Let’s just say I’m not expecting too much,” I said in a sarcastic tone. “That way, I won’t be disappointed by another of your boyfriends.”

I saw the fury in my mom’s face. The world slowed to half time as she raised her hand and slapped my cheek. Her eyes, which had narrowed, opened wide as if she realy hadn't expected to do that. “Go to your room, Skye!” Tears thickened her voice, and she dropped the knife on the counter.

Hot tears filed my eyes, and I touched the cheek her palm had stung. The skin felt hot, and I stumbled backwards. I ran to my room and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the pictures on my wals. I threw myself on the bed, trying not to cry. As I lay on my side, the copy of
To Kill a Mockingbird
caught my eye. At first I didn’t touch it because it had come from the Mockingbird Man, but then, as I remembered Scout’s world, I wanted to return there.

I flipped to the turned-down page and started reading.

A few moments, later the doorbel rang, and Mom invited Warren inside. Half of me didn’t want to know what she said, didn’t care, but the other half did-the one which wanted more than anything to get rid of him so I could have my mom to myself, so I crept to the door and silently listened.

“I don’t understand her anymore,” my mother wailed.

“Her father never wanted her, yet she refuses to let go of him, and so long as she hopes he’l come back, she’l never give you a chance.”

“It’s al right,” Warren said soothingly. “She wants to believe in her father. What girl doesn’t?” Swalowing hard, I found his voice soothing, and I hated myself for giving him even half a kind thought.