The Secret Identity of Devon Delaney

by Lauren Barnholdt

  “Oh,” I say. “I thought we were going to do the whole thing today.”

  “Well, I don’t think everyone’s memorized their lines yet,” Luke says. “And we don’t have costumes.”

  “Right,” I say. Great. I’m playing John Hancock and I stayed up late last night memorizing my lines. I thought we’d be doing the whole project today, which I guess makes no sense, because like Luke said, we don’t have costumes. I wonder what they wore while signing the Declaration of Independence. Probably some kind of long black robe. And those white wigs with the curls.

  “Are we doing this or not?” Kim asks, finally abandoning the iPod and coming over. I move closer to Jared, just in case Kim might actually believe the ridiculousness that he and I are together. “Because I don’t want to be hanging out here all day Some of us actually have lives.” Well, la di da. I have a life. If you count babysitting Katie as having plans.

  “Yeah, let’s get started.” Agreeing with her can only get me on her good side, right? She glances at me and then looks away.

  “All right,” Luke says. “Does everyone have their scripts? We’ll do a quick-run-through. And try to put some feeling in your voices so that it doesn’t sound lame.”

  We spend the next two hours reading the script through a bunch of times and working on memorizing our lines. It would have taken a lot less time except Jared keeps screwing up his lines and making us take breaks so that he can check the score of the game. (Apparently, another one started after the first one was over.) Also, Matt is taking his job as cameraman way too seriously, and keeps circling around the table, trying to set up angles for when we film. He also keeps pulling Lexi’s hair every time he passes by her chair, and she squeals and pretends she’s bothered by it.

  “Hey, Devi, can I talk to you for a second?” Kim says to me as I’m gathering up my papers after we’re done with the last read-through. It’s the first time she’s said anything to me all afternoon.

  “Sure,” I say, forcing a bright smile on my face. DO. NOT. PANIC. I glance nervously to where Jared’s on the couch in front of the TV, and wonder if I could start some sort of fake fight with him that would be grounds for a breakup. Something like, “All you ever do is watch football! I’m through with this!” But then I realize Jared might be like, “Um, through with what?”, which wouldn’t work.

  “What’s up?” I ask Kim after she pulls me over to where the iPod is. It’s been blasting some kind of dance mix the whole time we were working, which was kind of distracting.

  “I know you told Lexi you’re dating Jared,” Kim says. She tilts her head to the side and looks at me thoughtfully.

  “Oh,” I say, not sure what to do. Deny? Admit to it? Try to convince her it’s true? Run?

  “I also know you told her you were friends with all of us before she got here.” She holds her hand out in front of her and studies her nails.

  “Listen, Kim—”

  She puts her hand up and silences me. “I’m not going to say anything,” she says. She studies me.

  “But I just wanted to let you know that I know.” She leans in closer, and I can feel her breath on my cheek. “I think it’s really mean that you lied to Lexi. And I haven’t decided exactly what I’m going to do about it yet.”

  Lovely.

  Luke insists on walking me home, which is horrible, because I feel like I’m going to cry. Plus my shoes are killing my feet, and I planned on walking home barefoot if I had to, but obviously I can’t do that now. What would I say? “Hi, can you hold my shoes while I walk home barefoot? Oh, don’t worry about that. That’s just some toilet paper I stuffed in the toes so that they would fit me.”

  “Sorry about Jared screwing up all the lines,” Luke says as we walk toward my house. Or, should I say, he walks and I clomp.

  “That’s okay,” I say, “It’s not your fault.” Clomp, clomp.

  “I think he gets nervous around Lexi since he likes her so much.” He reaches up as we pass under a tree and lets his fingers brush the leaves. God, he’s tall.

  “Jared likes Lexi?” I ask, feigning innocence.

  “Oh, yeah, he’s totally into her,” Luke says. “It seems like she likes Matt, though. I keep telling him he has to stop being a jerk to her, but he just winks and tells me it’s part of his master plan.” He rolls his eyes.

  Great. Not only is Jared telling everyone about his Lexi crush, now Luke is giving Jared love advice. Good love advice. “I think our project is going to be really good,” I say. It’s lame, but I’m desperate to change the subject. Besides, my head can’t take too much more stress. I’m already concentrating on walking without falling and dying. These shoes are seriously dangerous.

  “Yeah, it definitely is,” Luke says. “So did your mom calm down a little after I left the other night?”

  I giggle. “Yeah. Well, as much as she can, anyway. She was still a little mad at me for getting my hair highlighted, but I got back on her good side by agreeing to babysit for my sister.”

  “That was nice of you,” Luke says.

  “Yeah, well, my parents are working on …” I try to think of the right word. Their marriage? Their relationship? “ … stuff, and anything I can do to make it easier for them isn’t a big deal to me.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Luke says. “When my parents got divorced, it was really hard on both of them, but I tried to make sure me and my little brothers stayed out of trouble.” He grins. “Although now that things are a little more stable …”

  I giggle again. The sun is out, and it’s casting stripes of light against the sidewalk as we walk.

  “I’m glad we got to be partners,” Luke says. We pass under a tree and a breeze blows through, and with it comes the scent I’m starting to associate with Luke, a boy smell that I’ve never noticed on a guy before.

  “Definitely,” I say. I wonder what sort of torture Kim is going to put me through in order to keep my secret. Maybe she’ll make me do all her English homework. Actually, that wouldn’t be so bad. I actually like English. Or maybe shell make me follow her around and carry her books or something. I rack my brain for all the movies I’ve seen that have mean girls in them, and try to think of what kind of torture could be in store for me. I’m so caught up in my brain, trying to think about what could happen, that I almost don’t realize how close Luke and I are walking to each other. In fact, I don’t realize it until he reaches out and takes my hand.

  Luke. And. I. Are. Holding. Hands.

  And not in a “Let me take your hand and cross the street kind of way.” It’s definitely in a “We’re boyfriend and girlfriend” kind of way. His fingers are intertwined with mine. His hand feels warm. And secure. Not sweaty or weird, the way I sometimes figured it would be to hold hands with a boy.

  We don’t talk all the way back to my house. It’s like the fact that we’re now holding hands has compromised our ability to verbalize. This is not how things are supposed to happen. Luke is not supposed to be holding my hand. Jared is supposed to be holding my hand. Or at least pretending to. Does this mean Luke wants to be my boyfriend? And if he does, do I want to be his girlfriend? Do I like Luke? And if I do, what am I supposed to do about my fake boyfriend, Jared? I can’t have two boyfriends, even if one is fake.

  “Thanks for walking me home,” I say when we get in front of my house.

  “No problem,” he says. He looks at me for a second, and suddenly I think maybe he’s going to kiss me. I drop his hand and turn around quickly, trying to look cool, like I have boys holding my hand every day. Then I walk quickly up the driveway and to my front door without looking back. Well, as quickly as I can in these shoes.

  That night, while my parents are out, I help Katie make an Olympic podium. We take a bunch of cardboard boxes that we find in the garage and set them up so the biggest one is in the middle. Then we put newspaper down and use some of my mom’s craft paint to paint the numbers one, two, and three on them in swirly purple figures.

  “Now,” Katie sa
ys when the paint’s dry “You put my gold medal on me, and give a speech.”

  “The Olympic Committee is so happy to present you with this gold medal,” I say, putting it around her neck. “You deserve it.” I grab some fake flowers from the vase on the table and hand them to her.

  “Thank you so very much,” she says. “I would like to thank my mom, my dad, and my sister, Devon, for making all my dreams come true. This night wouldn’t be as special if they weren’t all here, supporting me and being proud.” I don’t think you get to make a speech at the Olympics, but whatever. I reach over and press play on the CD player we’ve set up to play the national anthem.

  Katie puts her hand over her heart and stares solemnly into space. My parents walk in halfway through “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

  “What in the world—” my mom asks, amused.

  “Shh!” Katie shushes her. “No talking during the ceremony.”

  My parents are silent and put their hands over their hearts until the song is over, and then burst into applause. “Thank you, thank you,” Katie says, bowing. Not sure you really do that at the Olympics either, but again, whatever.

  “You guys made this?” my dad asks, checking out our podium.

  “Yup,” I say.

  “You did a really great job,” he says, sounding surprised.

  He and my mom exchange a look.

  “Devon, we want you to know how proud of you we are lately,” my mom says. “Watching Katie has helped us a lot, and you haven’t complained once. We know she gets a little cranky when we leave, but you’ve been really amazing with handling her.”

  “Thanks,” I say, feeling pleased. But in the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder how proud my parents would be if they knew their oldest daughter was basically lying to everyone but them.

  chapter eight

  By the time Monday morning rolls around, I have a knot in my stomach the size of the Empire State Building. I spent all weekend dreading going to school, and now that I have to, I feel like I might pass out from stress. Do people even do that? Pass out from stress, I mean. Probably not. I think they just get ulcers.

  I avoided everyone for the rest of the weekend, leaving an away message up on my instant messenger and telling my mom that I had so much homework, I couldn’t possibly come to the phone. I spent a lot of time in my room, supposedly working on all the homework I allegedly had, but really I was watching TV and reading one of the romance novels I took from my grandma’s house this summer. I also spent a lot of time looking at my hand. I know it sounds really weird, but I can’t stop thinking about Luke and how it felt to hold his hand, to feel his fingers around mine, to feel the bottom of his shirt brushing against my wrist as we walked.

  I head to my locker right off the bus on Monday, my plan being to grab my books and head immediately to homeroom. I’m in such a hurry that my lock doesn’t open on the first couple of tries. Crap. 18 right, 27 left, 15 right. I spin right by 15 again, but give it a hopeful yank. I take a deep breath and try again. Yes! The lock springs open, and I reach in and start loading all the books I need for the morning into my bag. Almost done. If I can just get into homeroom before—

  “Hey!” a voice chirps right next to my ear. I scream and drop my bag. Books and papers go everywhere.

  “Geez,” Mel says, kneeling down with me to help me pick up my stuff. “Someone’s on a short fuse.”

  “Thank God it’s you,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m trying to avoid everyone else.”

  “Everyone else who?” she asks.

  “Kim, Lexi, Jared, Luke, everyone,” I say. I accidentally step on my math notes, putting a big footprint over a bunch of algebra equations. Great. I hope I can still read it—we have a test tomorrow.

  “Why, what’s going on?” Mel asks. She picks up my science homework and puts it back in my purple folder. “I called you three times yesterday. Since when do you have so much homework that you can’t come to the phone?” That’s the problem with having a best friend. You can never lie to them, because they’ll always figure out the truth. I think again about how Mel still doesn’t know about my parents, and even more uneasiness passes through me.

  “I know,” I say. “I’m sorry, it’s just that—”

  “Uh-oh,” Mel says, looking down the hall behind me.

  “Uh-oh what?” I ask.

  “Hey, Devi,” I hear Luke’s voice behind me.

  “Oh,” I say, getting up from the floor. I wipe my hands on my jeans, trying to get some of the grime from the floor off. I glance around quickly to make sure no one else is around. “What’s going on?”

  “I tried calling you yesterday,” he says, “but your mom said you had a ton of homework.” My heart is beating erratically in my chest, like when someone has their music up too loud in their car.

  “Yeah, I was swamped.”

  “Cool.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I was afraid you were maybe avoiding me.”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that.” Why, yes, I was avoiding you, Luke, you and pretty much everyone else because I’m a horrible liar who doesn’t want to get caught. Mel coughs from the floor, where she’s pretending to pick up my papers but is really listening to everything that’s going on.

  “Good,” he says, smiling.” He reaches over and takes my hand again. Oh my God. Why does Luke keep holding my hand? And why do I like it so much? Mel coughs again. “I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to hang out after school, maybe get an ice cream or something.”

  Is Luke asking me out on a date? I can’t go out on a date with Luke! Lexi thinks Jared is my boyfriend. How would it look if Luke and I started dating? This is not good. This is bad. This is beyond bad.

  “Actually,” I say, “I really can’t today. I have to take care of my little sister.”

  “Again?” he asks.

  “Yes.” I nod. “My parents work a lot, and Katie’s only five, so …”

  “Right.” Pause. “How about tomorrow?”

  “Babysitting.” I swallow.

  “Okay, well, maybe another time then.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I say, trying to sound noncommittal. I drop his hand. Holding hands with Luke in public is definitely not a good idea. What if Lexi sees? Or what if someone else sees and tells Lexi? It might be my imagination, but I think I see a look of hurt and confusion pass across Luke’s face.

  “So I guess I’ll catch ya later, then,” he says.

  “Yeah, definitely. Catch ya later.”

  “Bye, Melissa,” he says to a still-crouched-down Mel.

  “Bye,” she says, straightening up. “What was that about?” she demands once he’s out of earshot.

  “What was what about?” I ask.

  “You and Luke holding hands.” She throws her hands up in exasperation.

  “I’m actually not sure what that’s about.” I have butterflies in my stomach. “He did it the other day too. I’m not sure what it means.”

  “He did it the other day?” Mel gasps.

  “Yeah, he walked me home from Jared’s on Saturday.”

  “And you didn’t tell me.” She crosses her arms across her chest and raises her eyebrows.

  “Well, I haven’t talked to you,” I say. “So that’s why”

  “I called you three times yesterday,” she repeats.

  “Mel …”

  She glances into my locker, where our BFF notebook is sitting on the top shelf. I haven’t even looked at it since the last time she wrote in it. “Did you write me back?”

  “Um, no, not yet,” I say, pulling down the notebook. “But I’m going to today, I just haven’t been—”

  “Whatever,” she says. She hands me my bag. “Here. I should get to homeroom.” She turns around and marches down the hall, leaving me at my locker, staring after her.

  I have to break up with him. Or he has to break up with me. Or we have to have a mutual breakup. Everything is getting way too complicated. Jared likes Lexi, Kim knows the truth, Mel is mad at me, a
nd Luke and his hand-holding are about to break the whole story wide open. So at lunch, I corner Lexi and tell her I need to talk to her about something.

  “What’s up, Devi?” she asks as I drag her into the bathroom.

  “Listen, Lexi, something happened and I wanted you to be the first one to know about it,” I say. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror over the sinks and I put on my best serious face. I try to imagine what I would feel like if Jared really had broken up with me. I’m shocked to find that now that I know Jared a little better, I don’t think I’d be all that upset if he did break up with me. Which is going to make this a very challenging acting job.

  “Oh my God, Devi, what is it?” Lexi asks, concern on her face.

  “Well, the thing is …” Lexi looks at me expectantly. “The thing is, Jared and I broke up.”

  Lexi gasps. Her hand flies to her mouth. “Devi, no! I can’t believe it!”

  “Me neither,” I say. Understatement.

  “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure,” I say slowly. “I mean, we hadn’t been getting along, you know that.” Lexi nods, but doesn’t say anything, which I’m assuming means I’m supposed to continue. “So, uh, this morning before school he IM’d me. And said he didn’t want to go out with me anymore.”

  “He broke up with you over IM?! Devi, that’s despicable! To not even have the decency to do it to your face. Or on the phone even.” Wow. Lexi’s all fired up.

  “I know. So that’s that,” I say. “It’s over.” Again, understatement.

  “Are you okay?” She reaches out and takes my hand. “Do you need anything?”

  “No,” I say. “Not really.” I wonder if I should squeeze out a few tears. I try to think of sad things. Children in third world countries. This movie I saw once where the mother dies. I blink experimentally. Nothing. Hmm. I give a sniff and hope it will suffice.

  “He’s such a jerk,” Lexi says. She squeezes her fists together at her sides. “I always thought you were too good for him.”