“Fun,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he really means it. “Listen, I think we should talk about what happened at the party. You know, uh, with Greg.” I chew slowly on my grilled cheese.
“Welll,” I say, wondering just how I’m going to be able to talk about Greg/Ryan when my mom is sitting right next to me. Also, why is Luke bringing this up, anyway? As far as I’m concerned, Greg/Ryan is over. He doesn’t affect our lives anymore. He’s just, poof, gone! I wonder if maybe I should make him move away? Or give him some kind of incurable disease? “I don’t know what there is to talk about.”
“How about how you basically ignored me so that you could have a secret conference with him and Mel?”
“No, I didn’t,” I say.
“Yes, you did,” he says. “And you don’t even sound that upset about it.”
“I am,” I say.
“You don’t sound it.”
“Well, it’s hard right now, since I’m, you know, eating this grilled cheese and all.” I hope he realizes that eating this grilled cheese is code for my mom is right here so I can’t talk about this stuff, but Luke apparently doesn’t get it.
“You still haven’t told your mom about me?” he asks.
“Yes, actually, I have,” I say, proud of myself. I take a bite of my grilled cheese, chew, swallow, and take a swig of milk. No sweat.
“Then why are you still being so secretive?” he wants to know.
“You’re right, we should totally talk about that in mock trial tomorrow,” I say. Hopefully he knows this means, We’re in the middle of talking about you right now and we’ll talk about this tomorrow, while my mom will interpret it to mean that Luke is so obviously smart that he’s the one who wanted me to get into mock trial, a very valuable extracurricular that will allow me to get into the college of my choice.
“In mock trial tomorrow?” Luke asks. “Why would we talk about this in mock trial?”
“Because that would be cool,” I say. My mom is chewing on her sandwich and looking at something on the wall, squinting at one of our pictures like maybe she’s thinking it needs to be replaced or something. But I know she’s just doing that so it won’t seem like she’s listening to my conversation. “So maybe I’ll call you back later?”
“Devon,” Luke says, his voice getting all soft. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m freaking out about this. But I miss you.”
My face flushes and my stomach does a huge flip. He misses me! Even though he just saw me a couple of hours ago, he misses me! But of course I can’t say that back. So I just say, “See you tomorrow, too,” and then I flip my phone shut.
“Maybe you should have Luke over for dinner tomorrow,” my mom says.
“Maybe I should,” I say.
She changes the subject then, and we talk about Katie being obsessed with the whole Olympic scandal, and how she wants to get her hair cut. We don’t talk that much about Luke, and I can tell my mom is trying to be cool about it. But later, when I’m alone in my room, I call Luke back on my cell so I can tell him I miss him, too. But he never answers, and by the time I fall asleep, he hasn’t called me back.
“Look, you’re going to have to do it sometime,” Lexi says to Mel.
“That’s not true!” Mel says. “I can definitely decide not to do it ever. Ever in my life.” She looks a little green. Although it could be the shirt she’s wearing, a yellow, long-sleeved T-shirt that says “Peace” in bubbly black letters. I keep telling her not to wear yellow with her skin tone, but does she listen to me? Nooo. Of course, it could also be the lighting here, too. The hallway at school is very unforgiving and does not do anything for anyone’s complexion. Well, except Bailey Barelli. Her skin always looks flawless.
“Ohmigod, here he comes,” I say, and turn back toward Lexi’s locker. It’s between second and third period on Monday, and Lexi is trying to convince Mel she needs to ask Dylan to the dance. But Mel is resisting. We all hold our breaths as Dylan walks by, and I pretend to be talking about something inside Lexi’s locker.
“So that’s what your mirror looks like!” I say really loudly as Dylan passes by, my face buried in Lexi’s locker.
“Like that wasn’t obvious,” Lexi sniffs once Dylan’s out of earshot. I remove my head from her locker and Lexi slams it shut.
“Excuse me?” I say. “But that was a very good line. I mean, why else would my head have been all the way in your locker if it wasn’t to either look at your mirror or avoid Dylan?”
“Anyway,” Lexi tells Mel, ignoring my explanation, “I’m not saying you’re going to have to ask him out.”
Mel smiles.
“But,” Lexi goes on, “eventually, at some point, you are going to have to ask a guy out.”
“Why?” Mel asks. “Why should I ask a guy out?”
“Because don’t you want to be able to go for what you want?” Lexi asks. She pulls on the hem of the super short purple skirt she’s wearing over purple tights. My mom would have FREAKED if I’d gone out of the house wearing that. But something tells me Lexi’s mom doesn’t care. She probably bought it for her.
“Not if what I want doesn’t want me,” Mel says. She looks satisfied.
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I sing. Mel gives me a dirty look.
“All I’m saying,” Lexi says. “Is that if you want to ask him out, you should ask him. Besides, it’s not fair to expect the guy to do the asking all the time. First, it’s extremely sexist and sets the feminist movement back, and second, sometimes guys are shy, too, and you might miss out on someone who really does like you just because he thinks that you don’t like him.” Lexi snaps her gum.
I’m not sure who’s more surprised, me, that Lexi not only knows words like feminist and sexist and is using them correctly, or Mel, because Lexi is making a good case for why she should just ask Dylan to the dance.
The bell rings then, and we all scatter to our classes. Mel looks tortured, so even though I know it’s against the rules, I text her from math. “Luv U no matter what.” She texts back, “Thx.”
Then, since Luke had another dentist appointment this morning and I haven’t seen him yet, I decide to send him a text, too, while I’m on my way to my next class. (This information was given to me quite cheerfully by Bailey Barelli, who was just delighted that I didn’t know where Luke was. “If you’re looking for your boyfriend,” she said when she noticed I kept looking at the clock on the wall nervously, “he had a dentist appointment this morning and he won’t be here until later.” I tried to act like I knew that without actually coming out and saying I knew it, but I’m pretty sure she knew she had the scoop on my boyfriend and I didn’t.)
“I miss you, too,” I text to Luke. “Hope dentist was okay, see you at lunch.”
Immediately, my phone vibrates back, and I reach into my bag to check it. “Dentist was fine,” it says. No mention of missing me. Or sitting together at lunch. I start to text him back, but suddenly a hand’s on my shoulder, and when I look up, Mr. Ikwang is standing there in the hall.
“No phones in school, Devon,” he says cheerfully and holds out his hand. I sigh and place it in his palm.
Mock trial. Bailey Barelli is pretending to be my friend by trying to bond over the fact that Mr. Ikwang took my cell phone. “He totally did that to me, too, at the beginning of the year,” she says. “It sucks. Who were you texting with?”
I decide to tell her, and at the same time, get in a little dig. “I was telling Luke how much I missed him, and I just got sort of caught up in the moment, you know?” Then I realize this makes me look like I was chasing him, so I backtrack. “I was just pushing the 2 for the I miss you too when—”
“That’s so weird, because I was texting with Luke too, when Mr. Ikwang took my phone.” Bailey laughs. “Maybe he’s bad luck.”
“What’s bad luck?” Luke asks. He appears next to us, his navy blue book bag slung over his shoulder.
“Texting with you,” Bailey says. And then she gives him a poke! A pok
e! Right on his shoulder, and right in front of me! What is wrong with this girl?
“Why is it bad luck?”
“Because Devon and I both got in trouble when we were texting with you.” I don’t like when she puts us in the same category, like her texting him is the same as me texting him. I’m his girlfriend. And yeah, things haven’t been going the best between us (he spent all of lunch talking to Jared about some dumb sports thing, and I could tell he was still a little mad at me), but we ARE going to the dance together.
“So,” I say loudly. “Did you talk to you mom about the dance yet? My mom is sooo excited. Oh, and that reminds me! She wants you to come over for dinner tonight.”
“She does?” Luke looks shocked.
“She does?” Bailey looks even more shocked.
“Yes,” I say. I run my finger over Luke’s palm and then give his hand a squeeze. Until Greg/Ryan squeezed my hand in the car, I never realized just how much one hand squeeze can communicate to someone. “She really wants to meet you. Can you come?”
“Of course,” Luke says. “I’ll just call my mom after mock trial.”
“Good.” But suddenly I feel a little uncertain. I mean, I’m sure it will be fine. What could possibly go wrong? It’s just a little dinner. Hopefully it will be takeout, though. Not sure how Luke would feel about having to choke down some burned meatloaf or a big pot of greasy stew.
“Your mom must really miss making big meals for everyone,” Bailey says, looking fake concerned. She lowers her eyes, and her eyelashes brush against her cheeks.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, I was talking to Greg at the party, and he was telling me about how he’d always come over to your house and eat dinner with you guys.” She smiles. “He said your mom’s a great cook, and he’d eat so much that she’d have to make more for everyone.”
“Um, yeah,” I say. “He loved my mom’s cooking.” Subject change, subject change! “So what did you guys think about that case we—”
“I thought you said that you dated Greg over the summer, when you were visiting your grandmother.” Luke frowns, his eyebrows knitting together in a very cute way. A very cute, confused way that could get me in a lot of trouble.
“I did,” I say. “He liked coming over to eat my grandmother’s cooking. That’s what I meant to say.” I smile confidently.
“Nooo,” Bailey says. She leans back in her chair and twirls one of her perfect curls around her finger. “He specifically said your mom. I remember.”
“Well, that might be because he did come over to our house a couple of times after that summer,” I say. “Just to eat a good meal.” I open my notebook and pretend to write something down, signaling the conversation is over. But Luke doesn’t get it.
“Before or after you broke up?” he wants to know.
“Um, before?” But then I realize that doesn’t make sense. “Uh, after, I mean.”
“So you guys are really good friends then.” Luke looks more than a little annoyed, and I can tell Bailey’s trying not to smirk. “I mean, if he came over to your house after you broke up.”
“We’re not friends,” I say. “We had a fight, so he didn’t come over for a while, and now we’re more like acquaintances.” I check the clock over the wall. 3:05. Where the heck is Lexi, anyway? She’s supposed to be here, offering me moral support. And more importantly, where is Mr. Ikwang? He told me I could have my phone back today, AND he should be starting mock trial, so that we can, you know, mock trials or whatever. Not talk about my fake ex-boyfriends. “You guys had a fight, but then you made up?” Luke asks. What is he, the ex-boyfriend police? Does this mean it’s okay for me to start grilling him about the illicit notes and text messages he’s been sending to Bailey?
“Yeah,” Bailey says helpfully. “He told me at the party the fight was because he still likes you.”
I frown. Is this true? And if so, what is wrong with Greg/Ryan? Did we not tell him exactly what to do at the party? Why would he tell people that he still liked me? He should have been flirting with Kim and Bailey and all the other girls at the party who were cute and wearing short skirts.
“He doesn’t still like me,” I tell Luke.
“Yes, he does,” Bailey says. “He told me.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I say.
“Yes, he does,” Bailey says. Then she gets really fake, so fake that I can’t believe Luke can’t see right through it. “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cause a fight or anything. I think it’s nice that Devon can still be friends with an ex-boyfriend. That means that the two of you will be able to be friends someday!”
Mr. Ikwang picks that moment to finally come into the room.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says. “Now I have some new packets for you involving a Supreme Court case I think you’re just going to love!”
Um, yay?
Yawn. An hour and a half later, I think I might be starting to fall asleep. I’ve never actually fallen asleep in school before. Although one time last year I did kind of put my head down into my sweater after I finished up a social studies unit test and closed my eyes.
Lexi and Jared never showed up, which means for the past ninety minutes I’ve been stuck going over and over a trial with Luke and Bailey. Fortunately, the subject of Greg/Ryan didn’t come up again. Unfortunately, this meant I had to actually talk about some dumb trial.
“Don’t forget to get your permission slip signed for our field trip this weekend!” Mr. Ikwang announces on our way out. “A trip to watch a real live mock trial competition at the high school!” Great. Just what I want to spend my weekend doing.
“Bye, guys,” Bailey says. “I’ll text you later.” She says this last part to Luke. At least he has the decency to look uncomfortable.
“Mr. Ikwang,” I say, approaching him. He’s up at the front of the room, putting some stuff into a briefcase.
“Yes, Devon?”
“Can I have my phone back now? I really learned my lesson and I promise never to do it again.” This is kind of true, but kind of not. I have learned my lesson, but more about not getting caught texting, not about not using my phone in school.
“It’s still up in my classroom,” he says. “Let me go grab it and I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks,” I say gratefully. If I didn’t have my phone, my mom would have definitely noticed. She’s afraid I’m going to lose it, which is just completely ridiculous. I mean, how can I lose it when I’m constantly using it?
“So, are you going to call your mom and ask her about dinner?” I ask Luke.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m just going to go outside, since my cell doesn’t get bars in here.”
“I’ll go with you,” I say. We walk down the hall and step outside. I keep my eyes peeled, looking back into the school so that I don’t miss Mr. Ikwang and my phone.
“Hey,” Luke says to his mom when she answers. “I’m going to have dinner at Devon’s, if that’s okay.” He covers the phone with his hand. “Can your parents give me a ride home after?”
“Sure,” I say. I don’t see why not. I mean, my mom invited him, the least she can do is provide transportation home. I peer through the door, looking for Mr. Ikwang. Where is he? His classroom is right at the top of the stairs. You’d think he’d be able to grab the phone and get down here by now.
“It’s all set,” Luke says, snapping his phone shut. “What are we having for dinner?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “But for your sake, you’d better hope it’s takeout.”
Luke laughs, looks around to make sure no one’s watching, then leans over and brushes his lips against mine. I feel myself blush, the heat rising up to my cheeks.
“Here you go,” Mr. Ikwang says brightly, opening the door and stepping outside. “Here’s your phone, and I hope I won’t have to see this anymore. Ever.”
“You won’t,” I say. “Like I said, I’ve learned my lesson.”
There’s the sound of a horn honking, and I loo
k up to see my mom’s car in front of the school.
“Well, there’s my mom!” I say. “See you later, Mr. Ikwang!”
Luke and I pile into the car, me in the front seat, and him in the back with Katie. I would have rather sat back there with him, but of course I couldn’t really ask Katie to move, because it would have looked kind of weird to my mom.
“Why did that man have your phone?” Katie immediately wants to know. I turn around and give her a dirty look, but she doesn’t get the message.
“Katie, be polite and say hello to Luke,” my mom says. She pulls the minivan out of the circle in front of the school and onto the main road.
“Hello, Luke,” Katie says. “And now for two questions. Number one, are you and Devon getting married, and number two, why did that mean man have Devon’s phone?”
“What mean man?” I ask. I reach over and start fumbling with the CD player in my mom’s car, hoping to find a good song that will distract Katie from both of her questions. Of course, she might start singing, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.
“That mean one, he was standing outside and he had a very mean look on his face.”
“That was Mr. Ikwang,” I say. “And he’s not mean. He’s really nice. Look, Katie, it’s the Wiggles!” I figure having to listen to the annoying Wiggles is way better than Katie busting me for getting my phone taken away. Why is she here anyway? You’d think she could have stayed home with my dad. Of course, then it would have just been me, Luke, and my mom in the car, which probably would have been pretty uncomfortable.
“The Wiggles are for babies!” Katie screams. Wow. Okay, then. She turns to Luke. “I forgot your name.” She sighs.
“I’m Luke, remember? We met when I came to your house a few weeks ago and we watched The Cutting Edge.” A couple of weeks ago when I was babysitting Katie, and Luke and I were working on a school project, he came over and Katie made him watch some of this ice-skating movie, The Cutting Edge.
“Oh, right,” Katie says. She sits back in her seat and pulls a book bag onto her lap from the floor of the car. “You’re Devon’s stupid boyfriend, and you got her in trouble when you came over, remember that, Devon?”
Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better Page 10
