“Maybe I can get us a limo or something,” Zander mused.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. We’re just going as friends.”
“Of course, but if you’re really leaving us, then we have to send you off with a bang. Ya know, something to remember us Micks by. Am I right, mates?”
Sam laughed as Zander’s teammates boisterously agreed.
“I still can’t believe you’re leaving us, Boston,” Zander exclaimed over the ruckus.
“Yeah, it’s time.”
“Ah, well. Save your goodbyes until tonight. I’ll pick you up at eight,” he said handing Sam a ticket to the Grad Ball. “Good luck on the rest of your exams.”
Sam was about to wish him the same when someone slammed into Zander from behind, smashing him into his lunch table. She screamed and stumbled backwards to avoid getting clipped by the flailing limbs. When she regained her balance she realized it wasn’t someone—it was Devon!
She yelled his name and tried to get to him, but Devon was being attacked by three huge boys from the soccer team. That should have stopped Sam, but it didn’t. All she could think of was getting to him. This was the first time she was seeing Devon and there was definitely something wrong. He looked thinner and his eyes were wild with sunken blue shadows beneath them.
Devon had Zander pinned to the lunch table and refused to let him go even though Sean Dougherty had Devon in a headlock. Sam tried to get through to Devon, but he was screaming profanities at Zander through clenched teeth and saliva.
“I told you to stay the fuck away from her!” Devon screamed. “I told you—”
“Devon!” Sam screamed. It was like he didn’t even see her.
Terror gripped Sam as she helplessly watched Devon struggle. He didn’t look familiar at all. This wasn’t her Devon. This Devon looked like he escaped a psych ward. She didn’t know what to do, but if she didn’t get his attention soon he was probably going to pass out. His face was turning violent shades of red as Dougherty tightened his chokehold.
Sam did the first thing that came to her. She grabbed a nearby lunch tray and slammed it as hard as she could onto the table next to Devon and Zander. It worked. Food sprayed across the boys and the deafening crack of the tray startled Devon enough that he looked at her. As soon as their eyes met he let go of Zander. He slumped in Dougherty’s arms, his frightened gray eyes closing.
Sam was sitting in the nurse’s office waiting for Devon to wake up. The nurse told her he was fine, sadly, just intoxicated and disorientated. She’d cleaned him up and let him lay down in the back. Then, after Sam had sobbed for twenty minutes in the waiting room, the nurse took pity on her.
“I’ve been young and in love too,” the nurse said. “Go sit with Mr. James until he wakes up. But don’t let me catch ya getting flirty back there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Currently, Sam was holding Devon’s hand, stroking the calloused underside of his long fingers. She noticed the knuckles of his right hand were covered in cuts and bruises. She noticed a lot of new bruises on him as tears filled her eyes. She barely recognized the boy in front of her. How could she have let this happen to him?
She was so angry with herself for not being there for Devon. She shouldn’t have let him push her away no matter what he said. She knew how bad he was hurting. The bruises on the outside were nothing compared to how he must be hurting on the inside.
Sam brought his hand to her lips, kissing each knuckle. She couldn’t stop crying and her tears splashed his hand, leaving a splotchy trail down his wrist. He finally began to stir and she leaned over him, stroking the side of his face and whispering to him. “Shhh, you’re okay, Devon. I’m right here. It’s Sam.”
He looked up at her with confusion. “Sam?”
She smiled and let out a bottled up breath. God, it was so good to hear his voice. “Yes,” she whispered, bending to kiss both his cheeks.
“Sam?” he asked again.
“Yes, Devon. It’s me.”
She hugged him, laying her head on his chest. He hesitantly put one arm around her and held her against him. Sam breathed in deeply. He smelled more like whiskey than himself, but still, he was here. Her Devon was still here. She could feel him underneath the pain as she listened to his heart hammering in her ear.
Suddenly, he stiffened and she lifted her head to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
He just shook his head and tried to push her away.
“Devon . . .”
“No, Sam. Don’t.” He pushed himself up so he was sitting. “I-I can’t do this, right now.”
“Do what?”
“You! Us! This! I can’t even look at you.”
His words left shrapnel in her heart. “Why?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes again.
“Because it hurts! Everything hurts, Sam.”
“I know, Devon. I promise you I know how bad it hurts, and that’s why you need to let me help you.”
“I can’t,” he muttered swinging his legs over the bed and grabbing for his shoes.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you.”
“I know you’re hurting right now, Devon. But please don’t push me away.”
“Leave me alone, Sam.”
“Stop!” She yelled. Devon finally turned and looked at her. “I know this sucks, but that doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole. I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need your help, Sam.”
“Look at yourself,” she yelled. “You clearly do.”
He scowled at her. “Oh, and how are you gonna help me, Sam? Flirting with Zander? Going out with him? Is that your idea of helping me?”
“No-I-I wasn’t flirting with him. We’re friends.”
“Friends that go out to dances and pubs? I know how your friend-rules work.”
“That’s not fair, Devon.”
“You’re not going with him, Sam. He’s no good for you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh and you are?”
“I’m a hell of a lot better than that wanker.”
“Maybe you used to be. But right now I don’t even know who you are.”
He laughed, but it sounded wrong, desperate. “Then why don’t you just forget about me like everyone else.”
“Because, I don’t want to! Because I care about you, Devon. But you have to let me in,” she pleaded.
He turned his back on her. “Sam, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from me.”
“But—”
“Sam! I’m trying so hard not to hurt you. Please, I just can’t do this right now.”
“If you don’t want to hurt me, stop pushing me away!”
“Sam, look at me. I’m a fucking mess. And if I let you in I’ll ruin you too. I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“Well you’re not! All you’re doing is hurting us both.”
“Maybe I am. But I just need more time, Sam. Is that so much to ask?”
“No,” she said quietly.
Devon looked at her. He was standing across the room, fully dressed, opening and closing his fists, like he wasn’t sure what to do next. She hated seeing him like this. He looked so pained and drawn. It was like a parasite was eating him from the inside out, feeding on his pain and suffering.
“I won’t go out with Zander if you don’t want me to,” she offered.
Devon let out a rattling laugh. “I don’t care what you do, Sam. But you should know, Zander’s just using you to hurt me.”
Pain seared through her tattered heart. How could he be so cruel? Just because he didn’t want her anymore didn’t mean no one else would. “Really? Because the way I see it, you’re the only one who’s hurting me.”
Devon
Devon watched Sam’s face harden. He’d finally done it. He’d finally pushed her far enough. He could almost see her mind snap shut as she straightened her spine and walked away from him, slamming the door on her way out.
Once the door was sh
ut, Devon sank to his knees and thought of all the things he wished he could say to her. But wishing wasn’t enough.
He’d done the right thing letting Sam go—even if it killed him. He knew it was better this way. He couldn’t ask her to love him when he was like this—so full of hurt and anger. This way he couldn’t poison her with his hate. Even though a tiny voice rose up in him, whispering, but maybe you love her more than you hate everything else.
Devon scrubbed his hands over his face trying to push the thought away. No matter what he felt for Sam, it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough for her. And he never would be. She deserved so much better.
Devon signed himself out of the nurse’s office and left campus. He didn’t care about his exams. There was no way he would pass them in the state he was in anyway. He drove home and snuck into his own house. He knew Cara would have a fit if she caught him home this early. She’d probably make Thorton drive him back to Eddington and tie him to a desk. Devon stopped outside the door to his room. He didn’t want to go back in there. Everything was destroyed in his room. But Devon was beginning to realize that everything was destroyed no matter where he went.
He pushed the door open and sunk onto his bed, wishing for the black numbness of sleep to carry him away.
32
Sam
“I’m telling you, Meg, you didn’t see him. He’s not even the same person anymore,” Sam said as she finished pinning up her hair.
“That doesn’t mean you have to go out with Zander.”
“I’m not going out with just Zander. There’s a bunch of us going. And besides, Devon was extremely clear that he wants nothing to do with me and doesn’t care what I do.”
“Sam . . .” Megan’s face was stuck in her, I-disagree-with-you, scowl.
“What? That’s what he said.”
“I doubt it.”
“Meg! He literally said, I don’t care what you do, Sam. And he’s so egotistical that he can’t even comprehend that anyone else would want to hang out with me.”
“What does that mean?”
“He said he thinks Zander’s only using me to hurt him.”
“Well, is he?”
“No! Devon is the only one who’s hurting people. He practically smashed Zander’s face in for the second time and he wouldn’t even talk to me. I know he’s hurting, Meg, but he clearly isn’t ready to face things. Until he is, I don’t think anyone can help him.”
“Yeah but—”
“No buts! Can you just be on my side? I’m going out tonight and I really wish everyone would stop trying to tell me what to do.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Sam. I’m just worried.”
“Well, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m going to a party with some friends, like a normal teenager. Now, I need to finish getting ready. Zander’s gonna be here in twenty minutes. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Sam disconnected her video chat with Megan and finished getting ready. She slipped on a cute lacey black skater dress she’d bought on her shopping spree with Devon. It had a plunging neckline covered with sheer black mesh, an open back and a short flouncy skirt with pockets. Sam gave herself a once over in the mirror. She looked good—and not like herself at all.
She knew it was childish, but she wanted to look good tonight, if only to prove to herself that she was desirable after what Devon said to her. Did he really think just because he had been okay with being her almost boyfriend that meant no one else would ever want to date her for real?
“Arrogant prick,” she mumbled under her breath.
Sam finished tying the bows on her strappy heels when she heard a car horn beep. She looked out her window to see a massive stretch SUV with a half dozen soccer players hanging out the windows.
Shit!
Sam raced downstairs before her father came out of his office to see what all the commotion was. “Bye, Dad! Love you,” she called as she rushed out of the house.
Devon
It was dark by the time Devon woke up. He felt groggy and a bit hung over. He decided a shower was in order. The steam helped clear his head, but then all his memories from earlier that day came rushing back. He’d been a complete wanker to Sam. Devon turned the water cold to try and drive away his queasiness. But he suspected feeling ill had much more to do with what he’d said to Sam, than too much whiskey.
He dressed as his stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten anything today. He checked his watch. Almost ten. Perfect. Cara and the kids would be in bed by now and the kitchen would be empty.
Devon sat on the kitchen counter eating the last of a sandwich he found in the refrigerator. It seemed Cara was rationing his food now, because he found three sandwiches with his name on them. He’d been too tired to defy her by making something else, so he ate the sandwich with the newest date on the label.
As he finished his meal, Devon let his mind wander back to when he’d first brought Sam to the kitchen to make pizza. It felt like a lifetime ago. The memories made his chest tight. And when Devon wondered what Sam was up to at the moment, his eyes stung.
Probably snogging Zander, he thought wickedly. He couldn’t really blame her if she was. Devon had practically driven Sam into Zander’s arms with the way he spoke to her in the nurse’s office.
Christ! Devon knew pushing Sam away was for the best but it still hurt like hell.
Devon hopped off the counter and put his plate in the sink. He had to get some fresh air. All this thinking about Sam, and what would never be, was making him crazy.
Devon was about to open the door to his bedroom when he heard a whine behind him. He turned to see Eggsy come padding out from Sam’s room. Devon shook his head at the dog. “What are you doing in there? I told you she’s not coming back.”
Eggsy whined morosely.
“Yeah, I miss her too.”
Devon walked to Sam’s door intending to shut it, but he found himself peering inside. It didn’t even look like her room anymore. Cara removed every trace of Sam. The white comforter, the twinkling fairy lights, the fluffy pillows, all erased.
“That bitch,” he huffed stepping inside the room. First his father and now Sam. It was like Cara wanted to erase everything that had ever made Devon happy. Why did she hate him so much?
Devon found himself rifling through the room for any sign that Sam had ever been there. He just wanted one thing to hold on to. One thing so he knew what they had was real—even if it only lasted a short while.
The only thing Devon found was the adapter he’d loaned Sam when she first moved in. It was still plugged into the wall near the nightstand. Devon leaned over to unplug it and noticed a notebook wedged behind the nightstand. He pulled it out. It was the spiral bound kind Sam used to take notes in class. She must have forgotten it when she moved out. Devon smoothed the bent pages back and froze when he read what Sam had written.
It was a list.
And it was about him.
Devon James: Pros & Cons.
In the Cons column she’d written:
Always thinks he’s funny.
Always thinks he’s right.
Stubborn.
Moody.
Used to put spiders in my hair.
Used to call me Spam.
Too good looking.
Spends more time on his hair than me.
He scares me.
But in the Pros column there was only one thing written. And when he read it, it changed everything.
He scares me because I’m in love with him.
Devon blinked and read the sentence over and over again.
Holy shite! Sam loved him! That changed everything. Or at least it could. Devon had always known he loved her. But she’d never said it back, not even after he told her on their camping trip. Well, she sort of did, but she was joking. Wasn’t she? But if she loved him this whole time . . .
His mind flashed back to video chats they’d had with Megan. She was always teasing Sam and saying “Don’t be scared, Sam.”
And every time Sam’s face would flush pink and she’d cut Megan off. Was this what Megan was talking about?
Devon still thought he was a right foul mess, and Sam deserved better. But if she loved him too . . . Maybe she didn’t care. Maybe she was just as mad for him as he was for her. He knew they could never go back—that Devon would never be the light and carefree boy he was before. But maybe, just maybe he could be some version of himself that Sam could love. Maybe there were enough pieces left of him. And maybe she would want to help put them back together.
Shite! He had to try.
Devon quickly took a photo of the list on the notebook and sent it in a text message to Megan.
DEVON: I need your help.
He pressed send and raced across the hall to get changed.
His phone was already ringing before he reached his door.
33
Sam
The Garage was awesome! They made awesome Appletinis! And Appletinis made Sam awesome at pool!
“I win!” Sam yelled blowing on the tip of her pool stick like it was a smoking gun. “You have to buy me another drink, Z.”
“I think you might want to finish that one first,” Zander said, trying to steady Sam as she leaned against the table.
She grinned at him and knocked back the remaining green liquid in the martini glass. “Finished!” she called triumphantly.
Zander laughed. “Not quite what I meant, but okay.”
“I’ll get this one,” Dougherty called from the bar. “Besides, I already called next game, Boston. Quit hogging the table.”
“Make me,” she taunted.
Dougherty smirked and brought her another Appletini, snaking his arm around her waist when she took it. “I’d be happy to,” he said thrusting his hips suggestively against her.
“Dougherty, give it a rest,” Zander warned.
The Boyfriend Series Box Set (Books 1-6): YA Contemporary Romance Novels Page 34
