Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better

by Lauren Barnholdt

  I’m trying to unbutton the green dress (it has this weird setup where you need to unbutton it all the way down your side, and then a side zipper starts at the waist), but it’s not going so well.

  “Have you figured out what you’re going to do about your dad yet?” Mel calls from the other side of the door. I filled her in on the latest while we were wandering around the store, picking out dresses for me to try on.

  “No,” I say. “For right now I’m just avoiding him.” What is wrong with this zipper? The dress isn’t tight or anything, but I think I somehow managed to snag the zipper. But on what? I give it another tug.

  “Oh, good plan,” Mel says. “When in doubt, avoid, avoid, avoid.”

  “Exactly,” I say, nodding even though I don’t know if I really agree with this theory. I give the dress zipper another tug, but it still doesn’t move. “Um, Mel?” I venture. “I think I’m stuck.”

  “Is the door locked?” she asks, jiggling the handle. “Let me go and get that salesgirl.”

  “No!” I say. “Um, it’s not the door. It’s the dress.” I open the door and Mel slides in. “I’m stuck in it.”

  “Oh,” Mel says. She grabs the zipper and tries to tug it, but it doesn’t budge. “What is it stuck on?”

  “Nothing that I can see,” I tell her. “But it must be stuck on something.”

  “I don’t think so,” Mel says.

  “They’re right back here,” we hear the salesgirl saying from outside the dressing room. “At least, they were.” There’s a knock on the door.

  “Yes?” I say, trying to sound haughty like I’ve heard Lexi do when she gets annoyed with the salespeople.

  “Is everything all right in there, miss?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Everything is just fine.” I hope they don’t have to cut me out of this thing. My mom would be super mad if I had to buy a dress that had to be cut off of me.

  “Well, your friends are here,” she says. “And why are there two of you in one fitting room?” She sounds like having two people in one fitting room is the same sort of offense as making a nuclear weapon or something.

  “I’ll take over from here, Susie.” Lexi’s voice comes floating over the dressing room door. She knocks on the door.

  “Yes, well—” Susie starts, but Lexi cuts her off.

  “Honestly, I said we have it. Now if you want your commission, go!”

  I hear the sound of Susie’s feet as she shuffles away. “Um, I don’t think I’m supposed to be back here,” I hear Greg/Ryan say. Duh. He’s definitely right. He shouldn’t be back in the girls changing room area. There’s a bench right outside for husbands and boyfriends to sit on. Greg/Ryan is definitely not my boyfriend, but still. He could just go sit on the bench. It’s totally allowed for fake ex-boyfriends, I’m sure.

  “Lexi,” I hiss. “I’m stuck. And I need help.”

  “You’re what?” Lexi asks, banging on the door.

  “Why is Mel in there with you? Come out for God’s sakes!”

  I push open the door to the dressing room. “I’m stuck,” I say, holding up my hands. “The dress won’t come off me.”

  “Come out here,” Lexi says. “And we’ll get help, I’m sure this kind of thing happens all the time.” And before I can stop her, she’s out of the dressing area and onto the main floor, summoning Susie, even though she just sent her away.

  “This is so embarrassing,” I whisper to Mel before following her obediently out of the dressing room. I mean, who gets a dress stuck on them?

  “Well,” Susie says when she appears. “It seems as if you’re stuck in this dress! I’ll have to get my manager.” She crosses her arms, purses her lips, and then takes off into the backroom.

  “Sorry,” I call after her.

  “Don’t apologize,” Lexi instructs. “It’s her job.” She plops down onto the couch next to Greg/Ryan.

  “You look really beautiful, Devon,” Greg/Ryan says. “You should get that dress.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “If I can ever get it off.” I stand in front of the full length, three-sided mirror and wait for Susie to return with her boss. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I’m sure I’ll be able to take it off. I mean, come on! No one’s ever gotten stuck in a dress forever. That’s silly. I’m so nervous about the dress, that at first I don’t even realize that Lexi and Mel have gone all quiet.

  It’s only when I hear a male voice say, “Devon?” that I open my eyes. And then I see Luke, in the reflection of the full-length mirror.

  “Oh,” I say, turning around. “Hey!” What is Luke doing here? “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw Lexi come in here, and I figured I’d say hi to her,” he says. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you were going to be at your grandma’s.” And then he spots Greg/Ryan sitting over on the couch, and his face gets all squobbly, like my mom’s does when she sees something that she doesn’t like.

  “Oh, hi, Luke,” Greg/Ryan says. He sounds a little flustered. “I was just here at the mall, and I ran into the girls, so I thought I’d say hi.” He looks at Luke nervously. “Just like you!”

  “You were at the mall by yourself?” Luke asks, putting his hands on his hips.

  “Um, no, my mom’s around here somewhere,” Greg/Ryan says, smiling. “You?”

  “I’m with some friends from soccer.” And then he turns back to me, his blue eyes flashing. “I guess your grandma’s got canceled?” He says it softly, and it’s almost worse than if he were yelling, because it’s like he’s so upset that he can’t even muster up the energy to get angry.

  “She wasn’t feeling well.” But it sounds like a lie even to me. Mel’s looking down at her shoes, and Lexi’s looking between me and Luke nervously.

  Maybe I should just tell Luke the truth. That we decided to get Greg/Ryan to play the part of a crazy person from Mel’s new school. That he was never my boyfriend in the first place. That I just made it up because I was weirded out about him and Bailey. He’ll understand. He’s Luke. He’s nice. And sensitive. Although. He’ll probably be mad at me for lying. Why, why, why did I ever say I had an ex-boyfriend?

  “Luke—” I start.

  But he’s already on his way out of the store. And when I try to run after him, Susie stops me. “Oh, no, missy,” she says. “You can’t go out of the store in that dress.” Then she and her boss spends the next five minutes using a special zipper untangler to get me out of the dress. By the time I’m back into my own clothes, Luke’s long gone. And when I try to call him on his cell, he doesn’t answer.

  chapter thirteen

  I guess we’re broken up now.

  And here’s how I know.

  The weekend: Send Luke three text messages. He doesn’t answer any of them. Send Luke five IMs, all along the lines of, “are you mad/I can explain/let’s talk about this,” etc. No response, except when he did just sign off once while I was in the middle of typing something. Which is pretty rude, when you think about it. And Katie (who kept popping up over my shoulder) was all, “Why did Luke sign off while you were typing to him, Devon?” and I had to make something up about how he really had to go because his mom needed the computer.

  Monday: Luke does not meet me at my locker in the morning. When he walks into English, he just takes his seat and doesn’t say hello to me. Passes notes with Bailey Barelli. Obviously he’s not too upset to do that. I spend all of lunch in the library with Mel, debating whether or not I have a right to be mad about this, since he hasn’t actually broken up with me. We decide it’s a gray area, which isn’t really helping.

  Tuesday: Mel and Lexi go off to the radio station, happy as clams. I get stuck going to mock trial. I am tempted to just go home, but then I realize if I do, Luke will be left all alone with Bailey Barelli. And they will know the reason I’m skipping. What I really want to do is go to radio with Lexi and Mel. It sounds so fun, they have the cutest advice show that’s starting tomorrow! And I want to meet Dylan. But again, I can’t really just l
eave Luke alone with Barelli. Although it turns out that it doesn’t really matter, because Mr. Ikwang puts us into groups, and neither Bailey nor I are in Luke’s group.

  By Wednesday morning, I. Am. Going. Crazy. I have no idea what is going on with me and Luke! Is it possible that he’s just broken up with me and forgotten to let me know? Do people really do that? I mean, I’ve heard of people going on dates and then not ever hearing from the guy again, but those are dates, not boyfriends.

  Plus, to make matters even more complicated, the dance is on Saturday. I’m assuming we’re not going, but how can I know? My mom is even taking me shopping after school (I still haven’t found a dress, which I’m not even sure matters anymore.)

  “You have to ask him,” Lexi says. We’re sitting in the radio station before school starts. She and Mel are putting the finishing touches on their new radio show, and I’m just hanging out with them, because I don’t want to face going upstairs to my locker, where Luke will definitely not be waiting for me.

  “I can’t just ask him,” I say. “And besides, I’ve tried. He’s ignoring me.” I’m sitting on a stool in front of the big board of buttons in the station. It’s one of those stools that spins around and around, so that’s what I’m doing. Spinning around and around, the whole studio blurring together in a mix of rainbow colors. I don’t even care that it’s starting to make me feel a little sick. If I throw up, I can go home for the day.

  “Well, that’s ridiculous,” Lexi says. I think she’s pointing her finger at me, but it’s hard to tell, what with all the spinning. “Go up to him and ask him! Tell him if he doesn’t answer, you’ll assume that you’re not going. You have a right to know.”

  “She’s right,” Mel says. “You totally have a right to know.” Hmm. Easy for those two to be all rah-rah women’s lib. They’re both going to the dance. As if he’s reading my mind, the studio door opens and Dylan walks in. I stop spinning so I can get a better look at him. Whoa. Dizzy.

  “Oh, sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know you were in here.” He smiles at Mel. “I’ll text you later.”

  “Okay,” she says, blushing.

  “You guys are so cute together,” I say forlornly as Dylan shuts the door. I lay my head down on the table in front of me and wait for my head to stop spinning. “It’s too bad that my boyfriend broke up with me right before the dance, otherwise we could all triple date.”

  One of the dials on the board in front of me pokes into my head, and I sit back up. The radio studio is so fancy. It has a board, and a computer, and some microphones. And Lexi and Mel know how to work it all.

  “Welcome to Gossipin’ Girls with Mel and Lex,” Mel says into the microphone. Then she pushes a few buttons and plays her voice back. She giggles. “It sounds cool, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I say, even sadder. “That’s the name of your show? How come you’re using ‘Lex’ instead of ‘Lexi’?”

  “Goes better with Mel,” Lexi explains. She pops her gum. “If you were in radio, it could be ‘Mel, Lex, and Dev.’”

  “That has a nice ring to it,” I say. It does, too. Of course, it will never happen. I can’t quit mock trial now, definitely not. It doesn’t even matter if Luke and Bailey talk, because he’s obviously not talking to me anymore. But if I quit, it will just show that they’re affecting me.

  I lay my head down on the counter. This sucks.

  After school. My mom drags me to the mall, where she is very happily chattering on and on about how I’m going to be getting a new dress. I know she wants me to be happy, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that I don’t have a date. Especially since she and Mel’s mom have conferred, and after numerous calls to Lexi’s mom (where Mrs. Cortland must have been at least a little bit nicer), they have decided we should be allowed to go to the party at Lexi’s. Before and after, as long as we’re home by eleven.

  “What do you think of this one?” my mom asks. We’re in H&M, and she’s holding up a very heinous-looking green dress, with a drop waist and long sleeves. Leave it to my mom to find the one horrible dress in the store and suggest I try it on.

  “Mom,” I say. “Can we please go to the juniors section?” I grab her arm and start pulling her upstairs.

  “Okay, okay,” she says, laughing up the escalator as she almost steps on my feet. “I’m sorry.”

  And then I see it. Over in the corner, hanging on a hanger. It’s a black dress, fitted on the top, and then all poufed out on the bottom, like a princess in a fairy tale. It has some tulle and lace underneath, puffing the whole thing out, with shades of turquoise and rose woven through, giving the dress a touch of color.

  “This is it!” I exclaim, running over. “This is the one!”

  “This one?” my mom says, not looking very convinced. “Are you sure you want something so . . . poufy?”

  “Mom, I love poufy,” I tell her. I pluck the dress off the rack, then grab her hand and start dragging her toward the fitting rooms before she can change her mind. “Poufy is very in.”

  “Okay.” She still sounds uncertain.

  Once I’m in the dressing room, I tear off my clothes and pull the dress down over my head. Ohmigod. I love, love, love it. It’s gorgeous. It brings out the color in my eyes, makes me look super tall, and as I turn around and swish, the lights overhead bounce off all the sparkly material underneath.

  And then I start to feel a little bit sad. What’s the sense of having this amazing dress if I’m not even going to be going to the dance? But then I realize—why can’t I go to the dance? Who cares if Luke doesn’t want to go with me? I can still go! I can hang with Lexi and Mel and some other people from school. Why should I just stay at home, curled up on the couch watching My Super Sweet Sixteen while everyone else is having fun? I’ll show them! I’ll show up in this fab dress and SHOW THEM! I fling the door open, ready to start showing them by, um, showing my dress to my mom.

  “Oh, Devon,” my mom says. “It’s gorgeous!” She brings her hands to her mouth and starts to get all choked up. Why are parents always getting so worked up over silly things like a dress for a school dance? She hugs me.

  “Well,” she says, pulling away. “I was hoping to make a whole day of this, but I guess since you found your dress already—”

  “We can go grab something to eat,” I say. “And of course there’s always shoes and accessories.” I definitely need new earrings for this dress. And some sparkly silver shoes. And maybe an ankle bracelet.

  “Right,” my mom says. “Well, why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll meet you at the register?”

  I change out of the dress and back into my street clothes, starting to come down from my new dress high. I mean, it is a little bit sad to think about the fact that Luke is never going to see me in it. Well. Actually, maybe he will see me in it. I mean, just because he and I aren’t going together, doesn’t mean that he won’t be there. I’m still going. So maybe he still is, too. Ohmigod. What if he’s going with someone else? He wouldn’t do that, would he? Invite someone else?

  And that’s when I open the dressing room door to find Bailey Barelli standing outside one of the stalls. She’s wearing a black miniskirt over leggings, and a tight black button-up shirt. Her hair is loose and flowing.

  “Oh, hi, Devon,” she says, giving me a huge grin. Kim Cavalli is behind her, her arms full of dresses. Ugh. As if running into Barelli wasn’t enough, now I have to run into Kim, too? It’s like getting a sore throat on top of a really bad headache.

  “Hey, guys,” I say.

  Kim just sniffs.

  “Trying on dresses for the dance?” Bailey asks. Her voice is sweet, but she’s totally not fooling me.

  “Yup,” I say. I hold up the dress I’ve decided on. “I actually just figured out what I’m going to be wearing, so . . .” I try to push past them, but there’s two of them and only one of me, so they’re taking up much more space.

  “That’s a nice dress,” Bailey says, flipping her long dark hair back over her shoulder.
“What do you think, Kim?”

  “It’s nice,” Kim says. “I like the bottom.”

  “Thanks,” I say. Wow. Are Kim and Bailey actually being nice to me? Maybe now that Luke and I are broken up, they feel sorry for me, and aren’t threatened by me anymore. I can’t decide if this should make me happy, sad, or mad.

  “I guess since now you and Luke are broken up, you’re probably under even more pressure to look amazing,” Bailey says. She reaches out and touches my arm. “How are you doing with all that?”

  “I’m okay,” I say, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Junior high relationships aren’t really meant to last.” I narrow my eyes. “You guys should know that.” I’m referring, of course, to Bailey’s own relationship with Luke, and to Kim’s currently off-again relationship with Matt Connors. But just in case she doesn’t get it, I say, “You know, Kim, like you and Matt breaking up again. You bounced back from that, didn’t you?”

  Kim narrows her eyes at me. “Of course I did,” she says. “Matt Connors is a total loser.” She opens her mouth to say something else, but Bailey cuts her off.

  “Well, I’m sure it’s for the best.” She gives me a big smile, showing off her perfect white teeth. “Luke said it had something to do with your ex-boyfriend Greg, so it’s great that you two are back together.”

  “Yeah,” I say, not bothering to correct her. “Really great.” And before she can say anything else, I turn on my heel and head out of the dressing rooms.

  The rest of the week passes pretty uneventfully, except for two major things:

  1. My dad works late two times. Both times, he comes rushing in after dinner, gives my mom a kiss on the cheek, and is totally oblivious to the death glare I’m giving him.

  2. I bump into Luke in the hallway, and he says, “Sorry,” and puts his hands on my shoulders. But that’s it. Nothing else. No “I want to break up with you,” or “We need to talk,” or “Are you confused about what’s going on with us, too?” I’m starting to think that if he said, “I hate you and never want to speak to you again, you’re a lying little jerk,” I’d be a little bit relieved, since at least then I’d KNOW.