Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better

by Lauren Barnholdt

  And then I slam my locker door shut and stomp off down the hall.

  Okay. So maybe that was a little dramatic. I mean, Luke was just trying to help. And there’s no way he could have known that I looked in my dad’s phone and called some woman back who said something very affair-like to me, thinking it was my dad. But God, it’s like, you make up one fake boyfriend, and everyone thinks you have an overactive imagination, and you can never get taken seriously again. And yeah, okay, so maybe I made up two fake boyfriends, but Luke doesn’t know that. He just knows about the one fake boyfriend from a few weeks ago. And when it comes to parents potentially having affairs, one should get the benefit of the doubt.

  “Well, you shouldn’t have ignored him at lunch, Devi, that wasn’t very nice.” Lexi admonishes. She’s sitting at Mel’s kitchen table, while we wait for Greg/Ryan to get here.

  “I wasn’t ignoring him,” I say. “He wasn’t talking to me.” All throughout lunch, things with Luke and I were definitely awkward. He hardly even looked at me, and all we said to each other were a few words about the weekend. Oh, and at one point, he told me I had mustard on my hand. I was eating one of those soft pretzels, and I can never keep the mustard from getting all over.

  “You could tell he was upset,” Mel says. She’s sitting next to me, munching on sour cream and onion chips and looking surprisingly calm for someone who’s academic future is maybe about to be decided.

  “You could?” I perk up.

  “Yes,” Mel reports. “I saw him looking over at you with a very sad look on his face a bunch of times.”

  “Is that true, Lexi?” I ask. No answer. “Lexi?” I give her ankle a little kick under the table.

  “Oh, sorry,” she finally says. “I was thinking about how sometimes when I wear purple, it washes me out, even though it’s my fave color. So unfair.” She sighs. “Anyway, what was the question?”

  “Did Luke look sad at lunch today?”

  “Oh, yes, very sad, kind of like a puppy dog.”

  “Well, he didn’t seem too sad to me, talking to Bailey the whole time.” Luke and Bailey got involved in some dumb conversation about some case they want to ask Mr. Ikwang if they can do in mock trial. And I couldn’t follow it, because it wasn’t a case I’d ever heard of, it was something they just heard about or knew about somehow. And they kept going on and on, and I’m not sure if it was my (overactive?) imagination or not, but I could swear Bailey was throwing me little smirks.

  “Oh, come on, Devon,” Mel says. “He can’t just ignore her when she’s talking to him. Luke’s a nice guy, he would never do that. And would you really want to be with someone who did?”

  “I guess not,” I grumble. My cell phone beeps then, and I look down. A text from Luke! “Sry about this morning,” it says. “Do U want to come over and talk?” Yay! Luke wants to talk it out! I mean, he wouldn’t have said he was sorry if he didn’t, right? And he sent a smiley! A smiley definitely means he wants to work it out. I’ll go over there, and his mom will make us hot chocolate (not sure why I think that, since she’s never made us hot chocolate before, but it sounds nice), and then we’ll talk for hours and hours, and we’ll make up, and he’ll tell me that Bailey is the most ridiculous, horrible, insane—

  Crap. I can’t go over there. I have to be here for Mel. I can’t just abandon her and Lexi before Greg/Ryan gets here. But what can I tell Luke? If I say I’m hanging out with Lexi and Mel, he’ll think I don’t want to come over that badly. But I can’t tell him it’s because Greg/Ryan is coming over to pretend to be Ethan.

  “I’m sry 2,” I text back. “Can’t come over now, at my grams—will cal u later xxxo”

  The text is just going through when the doorbell rings.

  “He’s here,” Mel says, her face drained of color. She puts down the bag of chips.

  “Yup,” Lexi says happily. She claps her hands.

  The plan is pretty simple. Basically, we told Mel’s mom that Lexi’s cousin might stop by. Then when he gets here, we’re going to let her know he goes to St. Mary’s. Then hopefully Greg/Ryan will say tons of weird stuff as Ethan so that Mel’s mom will realize private school isn’t full of all the great influences she thinks it is.

  I take a sour cream and onion chip out of the bag and wonder if Greg/Ryan will be any good at playing a bad boy. I mean, how hard was it to play my boyfriend? All he had to do was play himself, pretty much. And he even kind of screwed that up. Hopefully we won’t be in the same situation here.

  “Oh, hello,” I can hear Mel’s mom saying from the living room. “You must be Lexi’s cousin.”

  “Yes,” Greg/Ryan says. “I’m Corbin.” Corbin? Who said anything about a Corbin?

  “I thought his name was supposed to be Ethan,” Mel whispers.

  I shrug. I thought his name was supposed to be Ethan, too. But now that I think about it, Corbin definitely sounds much better. Kind of uppity, in a good way. I mean, you could find an Ethan at any public school in America, I bet. There’s a bunch of them at my school, even. But a Corbin? A Corbin you definitely have to go to a private school to find.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I hear Greg/Ryan saying. “What a lovely home you have.”

  “Why, thank you, Corbin,” Mel’s mom says. Their voices are getting closer to the kitchen, and when they finally appear, I do a double take. Greg/Ryan is wearing a suit! Well, not all of a suit. Just the top part. The jacket. Over a shirt and tie, with a pair of jeans. He looks . . . kind of cool. But in a hipsterish sort of way, like he doesn’t really care if people think he’s nerdy.

  “I assume you all will be working in the kitchen?” Mel’s mom asks. You can tell she totally doesn’t want us alone in Mel’s room with a boy. Which doesn’t make much sense, since I have a boyfriend, Corbin’s supposedly Lexi’s cousin, and Mel likes someone else. But parents don’t think that way.

  “Of course,” Mel says.

  “Charmed,” Greg/Ryan says to Mel’s mom.

  And then he does something totally unexpected. He takes her hand and kisses it! Mel’s mom’s hand! Right there in the kitchen! And she gets totally flustered and is all, “Charmed as well, Corbin.” But you can tell she kind of likes it. Parents always like that stuff. They think it’s old-fashioned.

  “Wow,” I say, once Mel’s mom is in the other room and safely out of earshot. “What was up with that?”’

  “What do you mean?” Greg/Ryan asks. He looks confused as he plops down into the chair next to me. “Hey, babe,” he says. “Nice to see you again.” I guess when Greg/Ryan is playing Corbin, he still calls people “babe.”

  “She means kissing my mom’s hand,” Mel says. “You’re not supposed to be all nice to her. The point is to get her to hate you, remember?”

  “That shouldn’t be hard,” Lexi says. She gets up from the kitchen table and opens Mel’s fridge, scanning the contents.

  “I have to ease into it,” Greg/Ryan says. “I can’t just come in here acting all crazy”—he moves his hands around and makes a weird face—“from the get-go.”

  “Why not?” I ask. This theory doesn’t make much sense. He should definitely be crazy from the get-go. Once you give someone a chance to like you, they can make up all sorts of excuses for your behavior.

  “Can I have this yogurt?” Lexi asks from the fridge, holding up a blue container.

  “Because,” Ryan/Greg says, “we have to make it believable. We want her to think that from the outside, I look like a great guy. But that when you get down to it,

  I’m trouble.” He drums his fingers on the table. Greg/Ryan has very nice nails. I wonder if that’s something he did special just to play Corbin, or if he always keeps them so nice.

  “I guess so,” I say uncertainly. “But we don’t have that much time.”

  “Do you trust me?” Greg/Ryan asks. Mel and I look at each other warily, and I can tell we’re both thinking the same thing: And that’s not really. But we don’t have much of a choice.

  “They don’t
trust you at all,” Lexi says. “And I don’t blame them.” She holds up the yogurt container and shakes it a little. “Yogurt, hello?”

  “Yes, you can have the yogurt,” Mel says. Lexi smiles, grabs a spoon out of the drawer, and throws the peel-back top of the yogurt into the garbage.

  “We need to get your mom back in here,” I say. “Let’s ask her if we can order a pizza.”

  “Good idea, babe,” Greg/Ryan says.

  “Can you not call me babe?” I ask.

  “Ooh, feminist, eh?” He leans back in his chair and smiles. “I get it.” Sigh.

  “Mooo—om,” Mel calls. “Can you come here for a second?”

  Mel’s mom returns to the kitchen. “Oh,” she says when she sees Lexi with the yogurt. “I see you’ve found my special organic wheat germ yogurt that costs three dollars a container.”

  “Wheat germ?” Lexi frowns. “I was wondering why it tasted so grainy.” She wrinkles her small nose and drops the rest of the yogurt into the garbage.

  “Mom, can we order pizza?” Mel asks. “We’re hungry.”

  “Sure,” Mel’s mom says. “Grab the menus from the drawer.”

  “I’ll do it,” Greg/Ryan says, jumping up and heading over to the menu drawer.

  “Why, thank you, Corbin,” Mel’s mom says. It takes me a second to figure out who she’s talking to. I’ve already forgotten that we’re supposed to be calling Greg/Ryan Corbin. I think of him as Greg/Ryan. Or possibly Ethan. He should be like one of those bands that just goes by a symbol. Much less confusing that way.

  “No problem,” Greg/Ryan says, leafing through the menus. “I’m happy to be of help when your girl has the day off.”

  “My girl?” Mel’s mom looks confused. I’m confused, too. Is he talking about Mel? Mel’s the only girl in her family. And she’s sitting right at the table.

  Is he trying to talk in some kind of weird rich people talk?

  “Yeah, you know, your housekeeper, your maid, your hired help.” He looks around. “She must have the day off. I can tell because we’re ordering our own pizza. And well, because—” he wrinkles his nose and trails off as he surveys the mess of chips and sodas that are sitting on the table.

  Gasp! Is he calling Mel’s house dirty? She def won’t like that. Mel’s mom is a total neat freak. She makes Mel separate all her shirts into colors before hanging them in her closet. And she alphabetizes all their DVDs and even the shows that come up on their Tivo.

  “Oh,” Greg/Ryan’s face falls. “Where are the gourmet pizza menus? I can’t really have anything but goat cheese, regular dairy just doesn’t sit well with my complexion.” He draws out the word goat, and says it like “goooooatt.”

  “I hate goat cheese,” Lexi says, wrinkling her nose some more. She’s obviously forgotten that Greg/Ryan is just playing a role.

  “I don’t like goat cheese either,” Mel says, taking the menus from Greg/Ryan. “I want to order from Pizza Palace.”

  “Ooh, Pizza Palace.” I imagine their big sheet pizza, oozing with extra cheese and pepperoni, and my stomach grumbles. “That sounds good. Uh, is that okay with you, Ethan?”

  “You mean Corbin,” Mel says, a panicked look crossing her eyes.

  “Right,” I say. “Sorry, Corbin, I forgot your name for a second.”

  But Mel’s mom didn’t notice the slip-up at all, since she’s watching as Greg/Ryan very carefully removes his sport coat, looks around for someone to take it, and then, seeing no one’s going to, lays it on the back of his chair. I notice his nails again as he does it. Greg/Ryan definitely might have gotten a manicure before all of this. He’s really getting into it.

  “I’ll order the food,” Greg/Ryan says. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket and checks the screen. “Oh, great,” he says. Then he does this big huge sigh, like he can’t believe what horrible news he’s just gotten.

  “What?” I ask eagerly. “What is it?” This is sort of like a show for me, too, since I have no idea what Greg/Ryan has up his sleeve. It’s kind of fun, like watching a play or something. It almost makes up for the fact that he’s caused so many problems in my relationship with Luke. And, of course, it helps that this is the last time I’m ever going to see him. I’m feeling very forgiving because of that.

  “I just got a very important text,” Greg/Ryan says. “Excuse me.” He walks into the dining room and we can see him talking quietly into his phone.

  “He’s kind of an odd character, your cousin,” Mel’s mom says to Lexi. She has a confused look on her face.

  Lexi shrugs. “He never used to be like that. I think it’s because all his friends at St. Mary’s are rich and very sheltered.” For a second I worry Lexi may have gone too far, but then she just goes back to looking through Mel’s cupboards. She pulls down a box of crackers. “Do you mind if I have some of these?” she asks. “To tide me over until the pizza comes?”

  “No,” Lexi’s mom says. “Uh, so he goes to St. Mary’s, does he?”

  “Yeah.” Lexi reaches into the box of crackers and pulls one out, then takes a big crunching bite. “He’s gone there for the past two years.”

  “Well, what does—”

  Suddenly, from the dining room comes the sound of Greg/Ryan yelling. “No! I said by Monday and I meant by Monday! Well, figure it out! How hard can it be? Make! It! Work!” There’s a pause, and then his voice gets softer. “Good, that’s better. See how easy it is to do business with me?”

  Yikes. “Does Greg/Ryan have his own business?” I whisper to Lexi.

  “I have no idea,” she whispers back.

  “Sorry about that rudeness on my part,” Greg/Ryan says, returning to the kitchen and sliding his phone back into his bag. I do a double take. I hadn’t realized it before, but Greg/Ryan doesn’t have a normal book bag. He’s carrying a murse! A leather man purse with a big thick strap and lots of buckles! Wow. I wonder where he got that.

  “Do you have your own business?” I ask. I can hardly wait for the answer.

  “Yes,” he says. “Actually, I do.” He reaches over and picks up the menu for Pizza Palace off the table. “Now, where was I?”

  “What’s your business?” I press.

  “I do your standard homework running,” he says. “With a fifteen percent commission off the top. Of course, in this economy, business has been slow, and it doesn’t help when you get employees that want to take the weekend off to party.” He scans the menu. “I tell them, ‘look, if you want to be a slacker, be a slacker, if you want to be successful, then be successful.’ I don’t really have time to mess around with laziness.”

  Mel’s mom’s mouth is wide open. Lexi, Mel, and I are wrapped around Greg/Ryan’s every word. It’s definitely like some kind of movie, and he’s the star.

  “What’s homework running?” Mel’s mom asks. Her tone sounds wary, like she almost doesn’t want to know.

  “You know, getting people’s homework and papers done for them.” Greg/Ryan pushes his hair out of his face. I notice a very expensive looking watch that slides down his wrist as he does it. “I make a list of things that need to be done for people, name a price, and then farm them out to the kids that work for me. They get paid for doing the homework, the customer gets a great assignment, I take fifteen percent, and everyone’s happy.”

  Mel’s mom is now openly gaping. I can tell what she’s thinking. Not only is that a horrible business to be running, but he’s being so cavalier about it. Like, he’s just telling her about it, sitting right here at Mel’s table, almost bragging to her. And she’s a parent.

  “Isn’t that against the rules at St. Mary’s?” Mel’s mom asks, trying to keep her voice even.

  “Of course,” Greg/Ryan says. “But the administration can’t really do anything. My parents give so much money to that school, it’s easier for them to look the other way. Plus, with all the scholarship kids doing the homework for the other kids, everyone has a higher GPA.” He smiles. “Which looks great in the school brochures. That’s probably one
of the reasons you wanted Mel to go there, right?” He grins. Mel’s mom just stares at him, and me, Lexi, and Mel are just watching, hanging on every word.

  “Excuse me,” Mel’s mom finally says. “I think I’m going to go and watch television in the other room. You kids go ahead and order the pizza.”

  “That,” I say, looking at Greg/Ryan with new respect, “was awesome.” And then I give him a high five.

  chapter twelve

  We’re so happy about how things went with Greg/Ryan, that we all decide to go to the mall. Well, Mel, Lexi, and I decide to go to the mall, and Greg/Ryan has to come along, too, since his mom isn’t picking him up until later. I still need to get something to wear to the semi-formal, and Lexi and Greg/Ryan want to play DDR. So when we get there, Mel heads with me to help me find a dress, and Lexi and Greg/Ryan take off for the arcade.

  “What do you think of this?” I ask Mel, stepping out of the stall and into the communal area of the dressing room. I’m wearing a long, puffy green dress with emeralds all up and down the side.

  “Um, it’s a little bit much for a middle school dance,” Mel says, frowning.

  “You’re right,” I say. I head back into the dressing room.

  “Do you need anything else?” a voice calls from outside. The salesgirl. A very annoying one, fyi. As soon as we walked into the store, she pounced on us like a cat on its toy. Which is how I ended up with this green dress. She kept insisting that green was my color. Not sure why or how she decided this, since I don’t really wear much green. Also, how can green really be anyone’s color? I guess if you have red hair. Red hair is very conducive to wearing green, I think. Maybe green really is my color, and if I’d been wearing it all along, Luke wouldn’t have been texting and passing notes with Bailey Barelli in English.

  “No, she’s fine,” Mel says. “But we’ll let you know.”

  “Okay, but we just got in—”

  “No, really,” Mel says. “WE’RE FINE.”

  I hear the salesgirl’s feet moving away from the dressing room. “Thanks,” I say. I didn’t realize Mel could be so assertive. I guess once you ask your crush out to the dance, dealing with a salesgirl is nothing.