“I just told you,” I say. “It means whatever you think it means.”
“I know teachers always say they want you to just interpret it, but what if Mr. Benchley makes us read it out loud in front of the class?”
“I think he’s going to,” I say. “So that we can hear all the other interpretations.”
“Exactly,” Mel says, nodding. “So I don’t want to write anything that’s too crazy, because what if the poem is about sharks or something and I write that it’s about the European countryside?”
“I’d go with the European countryside if you had to choose,” I say. “I don’t think people write too many poems about sharks.”
“I think it’s about love,” Mel says, looking nervous.
“That’s what I wrote too,” I say “That it’s about love.”
“You did?” Mel asks. She picks up her pen again. “And you feel okay about reading that out loud?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Hmm, except for the fact that Jared is in my class, and my interpretation is about unrequited love. Maybe he’ll think I’m writing about him and Lexi. Sigh.
“Remember what happened last year? When the whole sixth grade had to write a poem for Celebrating Literature Week? And Brianna Hazelton wrote that poem about love, and everyone laughed at her?”
I giggle, thinking about Brianna’s poem. “Mel, Brianna used the words ‘quivering loins’ and ‘bated breath.’ Just stay away from anything cheesy and you’ll be fine.”
Mel giggles. “So what’s the deal with you baby-sitting so much lately?” she asks. She consults the poem again, reads over a line, and then starts writing.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You’ve just been babysitting Katie a lot lately.”
“Oh,” I say, not sure how to respond. I have been babysitting Katie a lot lately, mostly because my parents have been at therapy, or making sure to go out on “dates.” But since Mel has no idea what went on with my parents this summer, I can’t exactly tell her that. “Yeah, it has to do with my mom’s work. She’s going out a lot with her clients, and she takes my dad with her.”
“That’s cool,” Mel says, accepting this. “Sucks that you have to watch Katie, though.”
“I don’t really mind,” I say, which is true.
“I wish my parents would go out more often,” she says. “All they do is sit around the house and do puzzles.” Mel’s parents are the most normal parents you’ll ever meet. They’re like a couple you’d see on TV. They do puzzles, and go for long walks with their dogs, and make organic food in their blender. A lot of times on weekends, they get super excited about watching documentaries that they order from Netflix. Which is one of the reasons it was easier to tell Lexi about the stuff with my parents. Lexi’s dad was never really around, and her mom is kind of crazy.
“Yeah,” I say. I pull our BFF notebook out of my bag, and while Mel finishes her English, I start writing her a note. I think maybe writing in the notebook will help me feel better about the fact that I lied to Lexi about Mel liking Jared. But when the bell rings, signaling the end of study hall, I don’t feel any better at all.
Lunch. Things are about to take a turn for the worst. I’m standing at the front of the cafeteria with Melissa, wondering what I should do. The problem is that Lexi is nowhere to be found. She’s not sitting with the A-list and she’s not in the lunch line. I can’t just go marching up to Jared’s table without her.
“What are we gonna do?” Mel asks.
“I dunno,” I say. “Just stand here for a while, probably.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Mel says. “We can’t just stand here forever.”
“Not forever,” I say, “Just until, you know, I figure out what to do.”
“So yeah, forever.”
I move out of the way as Matt O’Connor goes flying by me with a full tray of food. If we stand here much longer, we’re going to get run over. Ketchup and food stains all over me is definitely not going to be a good look, especially when I’m trying to pretend I’m Devi.
“Hey!” someone says behind me. I turn around to see Luke standing there. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing,” I say, trying to look nonchalant. “Mel and I were just waiting for Lexi.” Which isn’t a lie. We were kind of waiting for Lexi.
“Come sit with us,” Luke says. “She’ll probably be here soon.”
I shrug. “Okay,” I say “Cool.” Mel and I follow Luke to his table. I hope we look casual, like we’re used to this. I practice my Devi walk. Devi, up until this point, hasn’t had a walk, but I think it’s time she gets one. I practice relaxing my legs while I walk, and almost trip over the back of Luke’s shoes.
“Oh,” Kim says when she sees Mel and I intend to sit down at her table. “Who invited you guys to sit here?”
“Um, Luke did,” I mumble.
“Luke?” she repeats. “Luke asked you to sit here?” She seems mad.
“Um, yeah.” So much for my Devi voice.
“Well, whatev,” she says, rolling her eyes. Hmm. Maybe Kirn’s just having a bad day. She seemed fine last night at the arcade. I decide to make an effort to be nice.
“So!” I say brightly, sliding into the chair next to her. “How’s your day going, Kim?”
She looks at me like I’m a leper. “It’s going fine,” she says. “Except that I got a D on my French paper.” She rolls her eyes. “Which is insane, because, hello, I’ve actually been to France.”
“That sucks,” I say. I rip open my carton of chocolate milk and take a sip. “But if you’re having trouble in French, I can help you. I actually—”
I realize then that Kim is ignoring me. She’s turned to Kayleigh Trusco, who is sitting on the other side of her and is blathering away about some movie she saw last weekend. Well. Okay then.
“This is awkward,” Mel whispers. She’s sitting across from me.
“How so?” I say.
“No one is talking to us.” She’s right. No one is talking to us. Luke is all the way at the other end of the table, apparently forgetting that he invited us to sit here. Not that I expect him to babysit us, but still. It would have been nice if he hadn’t just left us to fend for ourselves. Jared’s down at the other end of the table as well, which may be problematic if Lexi shows up. How am I going to explain the fact that I’m not sitting near him? Although I suppose I should be grateful I’m even at this table at all. That in itself is a small miracle.
“They just don’t know us, that’s all,” I tell Mel. “They’re usually really nice.” Mel raises her eyebrows.
“Devi!” Lexi comes rushing up behind me and throws her arms around my back. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” She sits down on the other side of the table next to Mel. “I had to go to guidance again.” She rolls her eyes and pulls the top off of her yogurt. “Mr. Boone thinks I need help with ‘the challenges of acclimating to a new school.’ Isn’t that crazy?” She throws her head back and laughs. The overhead lights bounce off her braces.
“That’s nuts,” I say. Lexi obviously needs no help acclimating to a new school. She’s been here one day, is sitting at the popular kids’ lunch table, and has the hottest guy in school crushing on her. If Mr. Boone is interested in helping kids, he should talk to his existing students and help them get acclimated to school. Lexi could teach him how to do it.
“I know,” Lexi says, sighing. She reaches over and takes a sip of my milk. Right out of my straw and everything. “I told him I don’t need help acclimating, that I already have friends here, and that nothing is wrong.” She sighs again. “And then I was like, hello! If you’re worried about me making friends, you should stop calling me out of lunch, because obviously I’m going to need social interaction.”
“Good point,” I say.
“So what’d I miss?” She scans the table, and notices Jared at the other end. “Oh!” she exclaims. “Why aren’t you—” Then she notices Melissa. “Oh, hi,” she says politely. She gives me a knowing look.
>
This is bad. This is very, very bad. What if Mel says something about me and Jared being together? And then Lexi will be all, “But I thought you liked him, Mel, so what’s the deal?”
“Hi,” Mel says. I relax slightly Mel wouldn’t say anything about the Jared thing. She’s way smarter than that. She wouldn’t—
“So, how was the mall last night?” Mel asks.
Lexi frowns. My stomach drops.
“Um, Mel?” I say, bolting up out of my chair. “Could I talk to you for a second?”
“Sure.” She looks startled, but follows me into the girls’ bathroom that’s attached to the cafeteria.
“So I did something bad,” I say once we’re standing in front of the sinks. Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad. I chant this over and over in my head, figuring if I say it enough times, it might come true.
“Besides creating a whole secret life for yourself?” she asks, rolling her eyes.
“Yes, actually,” I say. “Besides that.” The sound of a toilet flushing comes out of one of the stalls, and a random eighth grader comes out and starts washing her hands. I pull Mel over to the side.
“Okay,” Mel says slowly. “Are you going to tell me?”
“So yesterday, when I was talking to Lexi about how Jared and I were together, I had to give her a reason not to tell anyone.” Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad.
“And?” Mel says, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Well, I kind of accidentally told her that the reason she couldn’t tell anyone about it is because Jared and I are dating in secret.”
“Dating in secret?” Mel’s expression turns from suspicion to confusion. Her blue eyes crinkle, and I feel horrible.
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “And the reason I told her we were dating in secret is because I said you have a secret crush on him.” I hold my breath and wait for the explosion.
“WHAT?!” Mel shrieks. “Devon! Why would you do something like that?”
“Because,” I say, “I don’t know, I don’t know, I just panicked and I got nervous and I didn’t know what to do. It just kind of popped out.” I bite my lip. This is definitely not worth it. If Mel is upset with me to the point where she’s going to go ballistic and get really mad, I need to put an end to this whole thing right now.
“But I don’t like Jared not even one little bit!” Mel says. She throws her hands up in exasperation. I notice she’s wearing new, pink nail polish.
“I like your nail polish,” I say, taking her hand in mind. “Veryglam.”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” she says. She folds her arms across her chest. “I can’t believe you did that, Devon! Of all the people! Jared Bentley! You know how I feel about him. With his gelled hair and his gym clothes and …” she trails off, like Jared is so horrible, she can’t even finish the sentence. I’m willing to overlook the fact that she’s saying these things about my future husband because she is obviously distressed.
“You’re right,” I say. “I shouldn’t have done that. And I’m going to fix it. I’m going to go out there right now and tell Lexi and everyone the truth.” Well, maybe not everyone. There has to be a way I can maybe sort of pull Lexi over to the side and whisper it to her. And then beg her not to tell anyone, ever in her life. I rack my brain for some kind of secret I have, something I can use to blackmail Lexi with. But there’s nothing. She’s perfect. Which is why Jared likes her. “Seriously, Mel, it’s not worth it. Even if I get blacklisted and my life is ruined, it’s not fair to you. I’m going to tell the truth.” I start walking out of the bathroom, but Mel grabs my arm
“No, wait,” she says, sighing. She bites her lip and considers the situation. “Lexi’s the only one who thinks I like him?”
“Yes,” I say. “She’s the only one.”
“Fine,” Mel says. “I don’t care, whatever.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I say, hugging her. I feel like jumping up and down.
“But, Devon,” she says, pulling away and looking at me seriously. “You are going to have to stop this.”
“I know,” I say. “It’s just until I can stage a fake breakup, I promise.” Or until I can get Jared to fall in love with me. I make a cross over my heart to show Mel how serious I am.
When Mel and I get back to the lunch table, somehow the seating arrangements have changed, and Jared is now sitting across from Lexi. What? Why?
“It’s a totally awesome movie,” Jared’s saying. “I have it on DVD.” He looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to invite herself over to watch it. Or at least hint that she wants to. Thankfully, Lexi thinks Jared is a taken man, so she doesn’t get the hint. What is Jared doing, anyway? Why would he be flirting with Lexi when I just told him SHE DOESN’T LIKE HIM LIKE THAT?
Geez. “Uh, Jared?” I say, smiling at him sweetly. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Sure,” he says. He stands up and follows me to the side of the cafeteria. Lexi gives me a knowing look. Kim glares at me (what’s up with that?), and Mel just shakes her head.
“So, listen,” I say to Jared once we’re out of earshot. “I thought I told you Lexi doesn’t like you.” Suddenly I’m very aware of the fact that Jared and I are having a private conversation. I also realize that I initiated this conversation, which is something I never would have done two days ago. Not only am I lying, but I’m acting like a completely different person. This thought worries me for some reason, so I push it out of my head and concentrate on making sure I use my Devi voice.
“Yeah, I know,” he says. “But I figured maybe if I talked to her, got to know her, she might change her mind.”
“No,” I say simply. “She won’t.”
“Why not?” he asks, frowning. Good question.
“Because Lexi is very determined,” I say. “She’s very, uh, strong-willed.”
“Strong-willed?” He looks skeptical. What is his problem? Has he never run into a strong-willed woman before?
“Yes,” I say. “She doesn’t like guys falling all over her, because that’s what she’s used to.” Jared turns to look at Lexi, and at that moment, unknowingly and brilliantly, Matt O’Connor sits down in the seat Jared was just sitting in and starts talking to Lexi. “See?” I say triumphantly. “Guys are falling all over her. Poor Matt.” I shake my head. “Lexi’s going to crush his heart to bits.”
“I see what you mean,” Jared says. He does?
“Uh, you do?”
“Yes,” Jared says, nodding. “What you’re saying is to play hard to get.”
“Yes,” I say, nodding emphatically. “Yes. Hard to get. Very hard to get. The harder to get, the better.”
“Thanks, Devi,” Jared says, grinning. “You’re awesome.” But when he turns around and walks back to the table, I don’t feel that awesome. All I feel is horrible.
“We’re going to be partnering up for our first major project of the year,” Mrs. Vasquez, my social studies teacher, announces later that afternoon. I glance around the room, wondering who I can ask to be my partner. “And I’ll be choosing the partners for you.” She looks down at us from the front of the room. Great. I hate when teachers pick our partners. I always end up with someone who expects me to do all the work. Or, even worse, someone who wants to do all the work himself, and makes it into this horrible project that I’ve had no say over.
Mrs. Vasquez moves down the rows, pointing at people and assigning them partners. She seems to be doing it totally randomly. I hold my breath, waiting to see who my partner is. “Devon Delaney and”—she glances down at the seating chart in her hand—“Luke Nichols.” We smile at each other nervously.
“So,” Luke says, once we’ve pushed our desks together. “Do you have any idea what you want to do the project on?” Richard Nixon? Bill Clinton? Any of the lying presidents should do the trick.
“Nope,” I say. “You?” That’s the other problem with school projects. The teachers either
assign you some totally ridiculous topic that you have no interest in, or they leave it up to you, and you can never decide on something really cool, so you end up just picking something that inevitably turns out to be really lame. I wonder if we could get away with just doing a diorama. Those are always easy. And we always have plenty of shoe boxes hanging around the house since Katie needs lots of different footwear for all her different Olympic sports.
“I was thinking we could do something on the signing of the Declaration of Independence,” Luke says. “We could get everyone to help us do a video, like a reenactment.” So much for no one having any cool ideas. How fun!
“That’s awesome,” I say. “It’ll be totally different from anything anyone else is doing.”
“We’ll just have to make sure we don’t look like slackers,” Luke says.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just that sometimes teachers figure if you’re doing a video or something fun, you’re not doing a good job. So we’ll have to make sure it’s extra good.”
“Okay” I say. I pull out a piece of paper in an effort to show Luke that I’m serious about the project. “Should we make a list of things we need?” I grab a pink sparkly pen from my bag.
“Well, the video camera, obviously,” Luke says.
“Video cam,” I write. “Hmm, I don’t have one of those. Do you?”
“No,” he says. “But Jared’s dad does. I’ll ask him if we can use it, and maybe we can all get together this weekend and try to think of some ideas.”
My mood brightens a little as I think of being able to hang out with Jared this weekend. “Cool,” I say.
“Let me get your phone number,” Luke says. “And your screen name, in case we need to make plans.”
“Um, okay,” I say. I write my number and screen name down on his notebook. It’s the first time a boy has asked for my number, and even though it’s only for a school project, a small thrill runs through my body. I concentrate on making my handwriting look cute. I debate whether to write Devi or Devon, and then decide on Devon, since if he calls my house and asks for Devi, my parents are going to wonder why.
The Secret Identity of Devon Delaney Page 5
