by Mimi Flood
“A penny for your thoughts,” Devon said, quickly bringing me back to the present.
“They don’t make pennies anymore,” I replied, grinning.
“Good point. Then a nickel?” he laughed, asking the man sitting next to me to give up his seat. “Or maybe I can offer you a S’more?”
Handing me a stick with a marshmallow hanging from its tip, Devon smiled, seeming pleased with the playful idea of making the messy campfire treat.
“I was just remembering that party at Jonathan Wilson’s house. You and Martin had sung by the fire.”
“Wilson had quite a few parties back then,” he replied, unsure. “We usually ended up singing at most of them.”
“Right. Forget it, it doesn’t matter,” I smiled shyly.
Devon had been a regular at those parties, whereas this specific one had been the only one I had ever been to.
“I never saw you there,” he said a few moments later.
“They weren’t really my thing,” I dismissed, coolly. “And it’s not like I would have been invited, anyhow.”
“Why not? I don’t think they required invitations.”
He laughed and I supposed he was right. The parties, or so I had heard, had been a free for all when it came to the guest list.
“You know what I mean,” I said. “I would have stuck out. I only went that night because Brian wanted to hook up with Jonathan.”
A flicker of recollection lit up Devon’s face.
“Was that the one where Brian and Jon were caught in the woods?”
That night had been quite a success in Brian’s eyes, even though he had faced complete humiliation. He had managed to get some alone time with Jonathan, only to be caught, as Devon said, in the woods with his pants down. Everybody our age was buzzing that summer about the resident gay kids but all Brian cared about was finally having had a chance with his first serious crush since coming out.
“That’s the one,” I acknowledged, remembering how I had gone home by the time that had happened and I had missed all the fun.
“You didn’t miss much. From the parties I can remember, they weren’t that great. Kind of overrated.”
“Of course you’d think that,” I replied with a slight edge to my voice.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I hesitated, knowing Devon would see things differently and would probably laugh at me. “Come on, tell me,” he urged.
His eyes peering into mine, having an unspeakable power over me, I gave in easily.
“You were one of the cool kids back then,” I began. “Everyone loved you. You were popular, and that’s fine, but I wasn’t. I didn’t spend my summers partying out there like you did. You were lucky to get to be part of that.”
He laughed out loud, his laugh playful but drawing some attention, nonetheless. I felt my cheeks redden.
“Seriously? I think you’re making it sound way more exclusive than it really was.”
The way he had just brushed-off my opinion upset me a little, but it wasn’t that surprising considering the alternate worlds we lived in back then.
“From your perspective, it must look like that,” I said, a subtle hint of defensiveness to my words. “But I remember how it felt for me. That night was one of the best and worst nights of my life.” I heard how it sounded once it left my mouth and immediately regretted it.
Why was I even getting into this now?
“How so?”
I let out a deep breath. “Those parties were infamous, but to get to go to one, well, that was amazing. And then there I was, sitting quietly by myself, absorbing the fact that I’ve been accepted into their inner circle, and who other than Devon Barrett sits next to me and starts to sing.”
“Take it down a notch. You’re making me sound like a fucking rock star.”
I looked at him and wondered if the confidence I had always seen in him was a front. Maybe deep down, Devon had no idea just how perfect he was.
“That’s how it felt for me,” I said, without admitting my enormous crush on him. “I listened to you singing that night and I was in awe. And then…” I stopped, knowing I shouldn’t continue.
“Then what?” His interest piqued.
I shook my head, regretting bringing it up. “Forget about it.”
“No, come on, out with it.”
“It’s silly, really. You were about to talk to me and then Nicole jumped on you. You two started making out, and I felt humiliated and took off.”
No sooner were the words out did I feel like a huge weight had been lifted. I could feel my cheeks flushing and my heart racing, but I finally felt free from the secret I had never told anyone before. I avoided looking up at him, staring deep in the fire instead, hoping we would move on as if I hadn’t said anything. My fear was that I’d said too much and that he would now be uninterested in sticking around much longer.
“So you left the party because of me?”
His question surprised me. So did the fact that he looked genuinely worried that I had been hurt because of him.
“Well, not because of you, exactly,” I replied, trying to soothe him. “I was a stupid teenager and...”
“And what?”
“And I had a hopeless crush on you,” I admitted, shyly. “You know how it was back then, hormones and shit?”
I wanted to add that it had felt like more than a crush, that I was convinced I was in love with him, but I didn’t. Nor did I add that seeing him with Nicole tonight had brought back all those unspoken feelings and I was now sitting with such wanting for him. No, I kept those thoughts to myself.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet. He leaned back in his chair. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Don’t be,” I laughed, trying to play off the sudden seriousness between us. “It was a long time ago. And it was stupid.”
“Please stop saying that. The last thing you are is stupid.” I shrugged, thinking he was only trying to be nice. “No seriously, Elle. Don’t say that. Sure, your reaction might have been a little extreme, but we’ve all had crazy reactions at some point or another.”
“So, I’m not stupid, but I was crazy?” I teased.
“You know what I mean.” He stopped, his thoughts clearly taking over that busy head of his. “It all makes sense, now. Why you were so distant with me all the time. Every time I saw you, you’d run the other way. I always assumed that you hated me or that I’d done something to piss you off.”
“I never hated you, Devon,” I said, blushing again. “It was just a bad crush.”
“Well, it’s too bad you never acted on it,” he said, making me laugh hard.
From his look, I gathered he hadn’t exactly been kidding.
I lifted an eyebrow. “As if you would have even seen me. You weren’t exactly available.”
“Ah, right, Nicole. We were pretty intense back then,” he acknowledged. “Then again, you’re pretty cute; I think I might have considered it. Had you given me the chance, that is. You avoided me like the plague.”
I laughed along with him but was struck with regret. Had I not reacted so immaturely that night, if I had stuck around and been more confident, would things have gone differently? If I had stayed at the party, instead of running home, crying, would Devon and I have become friends, at the very least? Even the remote possibility that things may have gone differently between us made me feel uneasy.
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t think of you as the plague,” I said. “But I guess we’ll never know what might have been.”
“Never say never,” he said his tone light and flirtatious.
His focus was solely on me, a graham cracker in his hand. My marshmallow nicely roasted, I set it on the waiting cracker and the bed of chocolate, Devon setting the second cracker on top.
“You get the first bite.” He held the sandwich out for me, his expression very suggestive.
Not sure how to eat it without it dripping all over my face, but not wanting to leave him hanging, I to
ok a bite. As I did, Devon held my gaze, his eyes almost dancing with delight. I could feel the warm chocolate and marshmallow run down my chin and knew without a doubt, I had just proved there was absolutely no way to eat S’mores without looking like a five-year-old child.
Reaching into his shirt pocket, Devon pulled out and handed me a napkin, seeming unbothered by my sloppiness.
“Thanks,” I said, wiping my chin. “I bet I look so attractive.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” His voice oozed sexiness.
Was he flirting with me?
In an attempt to save face, I decided to play along and licked my lips in an oh-so-seductive way. I heard what sounded like a moan escape his mouth. Someone tapped him on the shoulder and offered him a joint. The strong, familiar smell had been lingering, but I had been too distracted to notice it headed our way. Devon took a few halls then handed it to me.
It had been years since I had smoked, but still feeling on edge from my day, I accepted. My lungs and throat burned at first, not used to the smoke, but after a few coughs, I could feel the buzz hitting me. Relaxation took over as I passed the joint along.
We both leaned back in our chairs and began to chat while sharing our snack. Every time he licked his lips I became aware of my growing desire for him. I didn’t know if it was a side effect of the marijuana or if it was simply Devon’s mere presence, but whatever it was, it was becoming incredibly difficult for me to ignore. His proximity, his demeanour, even the way he spoke to me in soft, gentle tones, made it hard for me to sit still. Desperately, I wanted to make a move. Even with everyone around to see it, I was just about to pounce on him, despite my better judgement.
“So, are you seeing anyone, Elle?” Devon asked. His question swiftly broke the spell he had me under.
I hesitated for a moment; just long enough to realize that I was, in fact, now single. The thought pleased me.
“No, not seeing anyone,” I said, noticing a small, subtle smirk light up his face. “How about you? You and Nicole still seem pretty friendly.”
Devon seemed taken aback, almost insulted.
“That’s all we are, friends.”
“Are you sure, because it didn’t look like that,” I said, forcing the topic a little further.
He sat straight up and pulled away from me. The change in his demeanour hit me hard, I felt a pang of disappointment, but I figured if it got the truth out of him, then it was for the best. Not that I was planning on acting on my feelings, but if I were to, I wouldn’t want to be acting them out on someone who wasn’t available.
“Yes. Just friends,” he repeated a moment later. “Why, are you interested?”
I shook my head, seeing in his eyes that the wheels were spinning.
“Just curious.” I could tell he was searching for signs of my interest. “Brian mentioned you and Nicole being like Ross and Rachel.”
“Ross and Rachel?” he laughed. “That’s pretty funny.”
I waited for him to say more on the subject. I knew it didn’t really matter—or rather, that it shouldn’t matter. Whether or not he was with Nicole should be of no concern to me. Whatever this feeling was that I had deep inside needed to subside and the more fuel I gave it by focusing on Devon, the worse it was getting.
He leaned in close and whispered, “Nicole is my past. It’s as simple as that.”
I smiled, despite myself, finding it hard to hide my relief. The way he looked at me gave me the impression I wasn’t fooling him.
Someone in the group suggested we take our party into town, providing just the distraction I needed to get away from the topic at hand. Caught up in the nostalgia of the moment, truly enjoying myself for the first time in days, I accepted to go with them.
A part of me knew it was because the teenager in me was driving me to, but another part of me relished how being with them—and with Devon—kept my mind occupied on less important things. I felt free and unrestricted as if the act of being around these people gave me respite from the burdens I had been weighed down by.
Everyone walked up the hill, to where the cars were parked. Cramming as many people as possible into each vehicle, we headed down the dark, country road toward town.
I didn’t know whose car I was in but I sat wedged in the backseat between Devon and some other guy, who was clearly high as a kite. He soon started talking my ear off about some nonsense. I nodded and tried to follow what he was saying, but I really wasn’t too interested.
What had my attention, however, was the sudden pressure of Devon’s hand on my thigh. He kept his eyes ahead but had a very knowing and naughty smile on his face. The guy next to me didn’t seem to take notice and kept rambling on. I bit my lip and weighed my options, trying to come up with a reason to brush Devon’s hand away. It struck me as very straightforward and brass of him to be touching me that way, but then again, it appealed to me.
Unable to convince myself otherwise—and maybe not wanting to truly find a valid reason to stop him—I let my body respond how it wanted to. I set my hand on his and gently moved it higher. I kept my eyes ahead as well, matching his conniving expression, but heard him clear his throat.
Oh, this was going to be a fun night.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The town’s bar, affectionately named Le Shack, was situated in an old two-storey building. Upstairs were two rooms which gave it the qualification of a hotel, but calling it a hotel was being a little generous. It wasn’t the classiest of places, and the rooms were generally used only by local patrons who had had one too many and needed a place to crash for the night.
Luckily for us, we were only there for the first floor.
We entered, Devon and I at the back of the group we had arrived with, and I could see the place was packed. I assumed this was due to the fact that in a town of fewer than three thousand residents, there wasn’t much else to do on a Friday night. But the further we got the more I noticed that despite a few people sitting at the bar—regulars, I assumed—most of the people were the same I had seen earlier that evening at Dolores’ wake. Behind the bar, hanging above the bottles of liquor, I spotted a large banner that read We will miss you, Dolores!
“What is this?” I asked, feeling a lump in my throat.
This wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment trip to the bar, as I had thought it was. Everyone here was here to honour my grandmother and despite the shabby locale, my heart filled with gratitude that so many people had come out to celebrate her life.
“You think she would have liked it?” Devon asked, quickly wrapping his arm around me with concern in his eyes.
At a loss for words, I just nodded and looked around. “Did you do this?”
“I had a part in it, sure,” Devon squeezed me a little.
I was overwhelmed by his gesture. “I didn’t realize she was so loved.”
He smiled, “Honey, she was revered.”
We approached the bar and while Devon ordered us drinks, I looked around the crowd. I could see Brian and Marc nearby, Brian was speaking to someone but was obviously looking at me, his expression full of wonder. I realized that what he was now seeing—Devon against me, his arm resting on my lower back—probably seemed surprising. I had to admit to myself that I would probably feel the same way had I seen this from the outside. Things were moving so fast, I was becoming so at ease with Devon, it didn’t feel odd to have him touch me the way he had been doing.
Still, I shook my head ever so slightly at him, as if I was brushing off his assumptions. I certainly didn’t want him—or anyone else—to get the wrong idea. Sure, there were flirtations, and I figured the weed had something to do with it, but there was nothing more between us.
Handing me my beer, Devon raised a toast to Dolores. Despite the number of people and the noise they created, the entire bar quieted down and joined in with a loud Hurrah.
I took a sip of my drink, trying to hide the uprising of sadness and spotted Nicole walking in. She saw Devon and walked directly toward us, as if on a
mission. Before I knew what was happening, she had jumped onto Devon, wrapping her arms around his neck. Though barely noticeable to anyone but myself, she had very stealthily managed to pull him away from me and had now wedged herself between us. I stood, frozen and awkward. She had literally draped herself all over him and it was disgusting.
“I’m so happy you came!” she yelled, a little too loudly. “Isn’t this great?”
Devon looked around and nodded. I could see him squirm a little but Nicole kept sinking her claws into him, not allowing him much wiggle room. It was clear he was being respectful but I really wanted him to tell her to leave.
Couldn’t she see how uncomfortable she was making him?
“Come and dance with me,” she urged, pulling on his arm. It was sad, desperate, really.
“No, thanks,” Devon said, trying to be friendly about it but the annoyed look on his face was more than obvious. He gently removed Nicole’s arms from his neck.
“What’s wrong, ‘D?” she said, pushing her body against him. “Just one dance.”
“Nicole, I said no,” Devon snapped, sounding serious and to the point. Glad that he seemed genuinely irritated with Nicole, I found his severe tone incredibly sexy. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go dance with her.”
It took me a few seconds to realize he was talking about me, but by the time I had, he was wrapping his arm around my waist once more and leading me to the dance floor. Stunned, I followed him, feeling Nicole’s glare on the back of my neck. When I turned to look in her direction, she seemed just as dumbfounded as I felt. It was like we were back to high school, at our yearly dances, when I would lean against the back wall, fantasizing that Devon would ask me to dance.
