I ignore the smirk on his face ‘cause I know he is trying to avoid talking about what really happened to him.
“Are you okay, Devon?” I ask grimly as I sit back down facing him.
“Funny that I don’t feel any pain from my wound ‘cause you’re feeling all of it.” He shrugs.
“I’m serious, Devon.”
“I’m serious too, Eleanor…”
I sigh. “Look, I know there’s a lot of anger inside you but you’re using it to make people think you’re bad and that’s not right for you or for others because you’re not bad.”
“It’s great to be bad,” he chuckles dryly, “because people take you for granted if you’re a good person. They make you endure their shit ‘cause they know you won’t complain one bit. And you being the good person that you are, you won’t disappoint them.”
“I don’t agree,” I say. “Being good doesn’t mean being submissive but brave. Being good is not a sign of weakness like you think. Good character is the real strength of a person.”
“Sadly, I don’t share your views, Eleanor. When you’re good, you expect good things to happen to you. You’re irrationally optimistic that good will come to you and when that doesn’t happen, you can imagine the adversity.”
That hits me hard. That’s somewhat been the truth of my life and after last summer it just got worse. But I can’t agree with him for his sake.
“That doesn’t mean you’ll go out of your way to make things look bad for you and others,” I counter. “Anything related to anything bad has never worked for anyone, never will.”
“I don’t want to get into right or wrong,” Devon says nonchalantly. “It works for me alright. It makes me feel powerful, unshaken, and unshackled.”
I let out a deep sigh. “You know what? I think I should go,” I say, getting to my feet. “You should rest to prepare for your next street brawl or anything else that you want to do to harm others and yourself.”
I start to reach for the door.
“You’re very lucky, Eleanor, that caring about someone but never confessing to it is not a crime in the eyes of the law.”
I scoff as I wheel around to face him again. “Why does it matter if I care for you or not? You don’t care about your life.”
“I don’t value my life ‘cause you haven’t become a part of it.”
I stand with my back towards him. My heart is beating so loud that it’s showing on my face, and I don’t want him to see that.
“Yeah, right. Truth is good,” Devon adds, “yet some people have trouble accepting it.”
I know I have to leave but I just can’t. Not with these feelings making an insane mess out of me. So I walk back to him and slam my lips onto his for a long consuming kiss.
***
I notice Gran looks anxious when I walk in through the kitchen door. “Are you okay, Gran?” I ask.
“Your father called.”
“Oh great,” I say with a smile. “Did he get on the plane? When is it landing at JFK?”
“Your father didn’t board the plane, sweetie.” She sighs. “Turns out the meeting that he had just before leaving didn’t go as planned. He is flying to Germany tomorrow. And it might take a long time from there.”
“Oh.” I feel my bones go pale and numb.
“I’m so sorry, sugar…”
“I’m fine, Gran.” I nod at her reassuringly.
I walk out of the kitchen to take the stairs to my room, my feet trembling more with every step I take as a fresh wave of guilt and fear hits me harder than ever before.
Chapter Sixteen
Dad and I are hiking to the woods.
The weather is a pleasant one. We walk on the carpet of lush green grass, surrounded by tall majestic trees and bushes and stunning daffodils. The fine smooth leaves brush against our arms as we make our way through the branches of trees that hang extended above the narrow path.
It is so much fun spending time with Dad. We talk and laugh about a lot of things as we walk deeper into beautiful nature. A delightful breeze causes my curls to sweep across my face as we pass a breathtaking turquoise river that swerves its way through the rocks and dense foliage of the woods.
But as we go a couple of steps further, a strange vibe penetrates my being as though I've inhaled something that doesn't belong to air. Unsettled, I look around. And the menacing sense of foreboding only seeps deeper into my roots. Looks like nature is fast losing its invigorating magic to the invisible evil shadows of death…
And soon enough, I see a dark and haunting graveyard spread out before me. And it seems endless.
The tall murky headstones loom in front of my eyes, making my stomach churn with a renewed sense of trepidation. The air is cold and bleak. I hold on to my dear breath as a chilly wind of depression tries to suck every trace of life from within me.
“Dad, I-I want to go home.” I gulp.
“This graveyard is your true home, Eleanor,” my father’s voice is eerily calm, “and I’ve come to leave you here forever.”
I go numb looking at his cold expression. “Please don’t say that, Dad. You’re scaring me…”
Dad snorts. “How can anything possibly scare you when you don’t even belong to this world? You should have been buried here instead of my wife.”
“I’m very sorry…very sorry…don’t leave me alone here, Dad. I want to go home with you…” I fight the lump in my throat.
My father remains unmoved. “You’ve lived more years than you deserve, Eleanor. Don’t come back to me ever again.”
I watch in horror as he walks away.
“Dad, no! Please, no!” I scream my lungs out as tears obscure my vision of him.
I try to run after him but huge stone walls suddenly appear out of nowhere like dark giant monsters and start to close in on me. I scream for help but nobody to listens. The icy walls draw closer and closer until I―
“No!” My eyes snap open and I sit up on the bed in my dark room, covered in sweat with a pounding heart
***
There is going to be a fancy evening party this weekend at the Parkers’. Dave Parker loves living in Crawford Lane, which is why he wants to extend his gratitude to the neighbors for being so warm and kind to his family. I had pretty much every intention to give this soiree a miss. But Gran wouldn’t listen. She believes that a lively evening surely would make me feel better after Dad canceled on his return. I don’t have the heart to tell her nothing’s gonna make me feel good. So that morning at breakfast, I tell her I am going.
I expected Stef to be all excited about deciding on our dresses for the party but when I join her and Josh at The Mug, they appear anxious.
“There’s something that you need to see,” Stef tells me nervously.
“What is it?” I ask.
Stef exchanges a glance with Josh after which the latter shows me quite a number of photographs on his phone. I turn grim looking at something I already knew about. Those were pictures of Luke kissing and making out with different girls in New York.
“Luke is so particular about having a good boy image in school that he goes to the city every weekend to be the real pig that he is,” Stef says bitterly.
“And I have found out that it’s not something that started recently,” adds Josh. “He’s been cheating on you right from the very start, Eleanor.”
“How do you know that and how did you even get these pictures?” I ask him.
“I’ve my sources everywhere who do shady work for me.”
I roll my eyes.
“Dude.” Josh looks at me closely. “You don’t look numb or shocked or whatever expression people have on their faces when they come to know they have been betrayed.”
I keep quiet.
“Wait, were you lying to me when you said that things are going great between you and Luke?” Stef guesses correctly. “You already knew about it, didn’t you?”
My friends look at me in astonishment.
“So what?” I counter. “Th
ere’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a stupid phase. Luke will get over it, I’m sure.”
Stef’s jaw drops. “A stupid phase? Seriously, that’s not the only thing you have to say after knowing for sure now that your boyfriend jumps from one girl to another behind your back since like forever? A phase?! Are you screwed up in your head or what?! Why would you still not dump that ass? Just when I thought you’d finally taken a stand and would no longer let that a-hole walk all over you, you frigging don’t waste a second to prove me wrong.”
“You cannot speak like that about my boyfriend!” I retort. “You’ve no right to tell me what I should do and what I shouldn’t.”
“I care about you. Is that wrong?” Stef counters, sounding hurt. “A relationship is worth saving if the person is worth it. But you’re pretending to be blind here, and I can’t see you go down like this. You’re just…you know what? Forget it. Just forget it.”
Even though Josh tries to stop her from leaving, Stef doesn’t listen.
“Eleanor…are you okay?” Josh asks doubtfully.
“I got homework. I’ll see you later.”
I leave the cafe with a heavy heart.
I saw this whole thing coming.
The weekend doesn’t take long to come because I keep myself busy with something. The evening for the soiree follows suit. I don’t want to go but I don’t want Gran to fuss over it either. So I open my closet and pull out the first thing I grasp because I don’t even bother to look. It’s a long white halter-neck lace dress by the way. Gran loves the dress on me so much that she does a waterfall braid with my hair, and she even wants me to wear a white floral tiara. I oblige.
Sigh.
***
Not only do Dave and Cheryl Parker plan a perfect formal evening gathering but they also play gracious hosts as well. The place looks classy with amazing golden lights, beautiful scented candles, as well as gorgeous table and ceiling decorations with great light music in the background. The guests stand around and interact with each other over tall glasses of cocktails. I spot Jackson playing around with other kids at a distance. He looks extremely cute in that black suit. I can’t see Devon anywhere. Good.
Dave Parker comes across as a more genuine host. Speaking of his wife, she has on a figure-hugging red gown with a plunging neckline and a thigh high slit. She has expensive accessories and makeup to go with it.
“She’s so damn hot.” Josh gawks at Cheryl from over my shoulder as we formal dance. “She should be at the Met Gala. I’ll go with her.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “She has a husband to go with her,” I drawl. “Plus, she’s a decade older than you, little boy.”
“Did you hear the part where I said she’s hot?” Josh returns his gaze to me.
I roll my eyes. He snickers.
“Haven’t Stef and you talked yet?” he asks, sounding serious.
I sigh. “To be clear, I’m not mad at her,” I say, meaning it. “But she still is.”
“Maybe there’s something more to it,” Josh suggests. “I think all is not roses and cherries between Adam and her.”
“I think so too.” I nod thoughtfully. Stef seems quite upset and uneasy lately. I’ve tried to talk to her about it but she insists that everything is fine.
Right then Devon approaches us on the dance floor. He looks gorgeous in a black suit with a red rose pinned on the left side of his blazer, a luscious strand of hair drops on his forehead which gives him that extra ounce of s
“May I have a dance with you, mademoiselle?” he asks me in a charming manner.
“No, thanks. I’m good,” I respond bluntly, shifting my gaze to Josh.
“You’ve got nothing to lose if you agree, Eleanor,” Devon says with a sharp undertone.
“Sure, Quarterback Sir.” Josh steps away from me. I shoot him a critical look but he ignores me and walks away.
Devon intertwines my hand with his and places my other hand on his shoulder while his free hand rests on my back. And we start to sway to the soft tune. I happen to look sideways to see Stef and Adam dance.
“Still not talking to your friend?” Devon asks.
I remember the lie I told him at the night of the school ball. Funny thing is it’s no longer a lie this time.
“No, we’re good,” I lie to him again.
Silence.
I just make sure I don’t look at him or worse, into his entrancing eyes.
“C’mon. I thought you’re way past that stage of avoiding me,” Devon remarks.
Say what?
“Devon, if you―”
“Before you make a snarky comeback, I’ve to tell you that you look very beautiful tonight, Eleanor,” he interjects. “I feel like, after seeing you this way, it’s so hard to believe that all those fairies, angels, mermaids, and princesses from fantasy books don’t exist.”
My heart misses a beat hearing that.
“You’re very cheesy, Devon.” I can’t help but blush.
“I’m very honest, Eleanor,” he says at once. “As a matter of fact, it’s getting hard for me to be so formal with you right now. We’ve gone a lot beyond just formal in many ways, Eleanor. I want to kiss you. Right here. In front of everyone.”
The smile fades off my face. “You can’t do that, Devon.”
“Exactly.” His expressions turn bitter. “You can kiss a pig on the streets without a thought, and we can be together only when no one’s around to see,” he adds dryly. “I wonder who you’re trying to fool, Eleanor, because you’re sure not the kind of girl who’d let a guy treat you as a doormat. More than pig boy Thomas using you, you are using him as a shield from me.”
“Why do you like me so much, Devon?” I counter. “Last time I checked, I didn’t do anything special to earn your affection.”
“I felt a connection with you the night I first saw you in this neighborhood and you’re denying having felt the same way,” he says, his eyes flashing.
“I don’t believe it,” I scoff.
“That’s because you don’t want to talk about us.”
“Why did you really come to Crawford Lane, Devon?” I finally ask him the sizzling question.
“Trying to change the subject, aren’t you?” he snorts. “The only thing that you need to know and remember is I will leave Crawford Lane and never come back again if I don’t get what I want.”
I just wasn’t prepared to hear that. We stop dancing. Devon steps away from me and I feel a pang as I watch him walk away. He heads to the backyard. I try to ignore whatever he said but when I couldn’t, I leave the party behind to find him. I almost get to the patio when―
“Stop.”
I turn around, hearing that loud and domineering feminine voice behind me.
It’s Cheryl, and she is looking at me with her cold eyes.
“I don’t want you anywhere near Devon,” she spews in a low icy tone. “He’s already hurting and you’re making it even worse. Devon’s not a toy for you to play with when you get bored of your boyfriend. The last thing I want is for my son to be involved with a teen slut.”
My breath cripples in despair at those venomous words and tears threaten to spill out. Under her harsh scrutiny, I head back to the party with the sole intention of going home. On the way, I happen to look outside the window to see Adam and Stef in a heated argument over something.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Josh asks as he walks over to me.
“I’m not really keeping well,” I tell him. “I’ll head home now.”
“Okay, take care,” he nods. “By the way, I just got forwarded a meme of Vice Principal Murphy pigging out on Chinese at the Lip Smack, and it’s damn funny,” he snickers. “You might want to laugh a bit.”
He shows the screen of his phone to me. “Looks like there’s a lot of pending work for Mr. Murphy at the school tonight,” he adds with a chuckle.
I don’t read the meme at all because something Josh just said gets the wheels in my head turning.
I have a plan in mind
.
I know how to pick a lock. And I have bobby pins too.
Chapter Seventeen
News spreads like wildfire in the hallways of Westford High that a senior broke into the vice principal’s cubicle last night to steal the Calculus test papers. But Mr. Murphy was working late night. So when he got back from his short break at the Lip Smack, the student was caught in the wrongful act.
For the record, that student was me. And contrary to what everybody believes, I got exactly what I wanted―to get caught.
But I have a problem now.
A huge one.
Mr. Murphy couldn’t believe his two stunned eyes when he saw me with the papers in his desk last night.
It was the same with Principal Conner when news of the incident reached him. I am sitting across him right now at his office. Our principal is a stout, middle-aged man with a balding head, grave face, and observant eyes. And he is just not ready to accept that someone like me could do something as shady as that.
“I can and I will suspend the entire senior batch if you don’t tell the truth, Ms. Sanchez,” he says firmly.
“The truth is sitting right in front of you, Principal Conner,” I affirm. “There’s nobody else involved in this and nobody knew at all. It was entirely my fault,” I say, meaning it. “It won’t be fair to punish the whole batch for something I did alone. If there’s anyone who deserves punishment, it’s just me.”
He doesn’t look convinced at all. “I’ve enough reasons to not believe that, Ms. Sanchez,” he says clearly, “You’ve got one of the cleanest records any Westford High student could ever have. You’ve never skipped classes or shown any form of aggressive behavior towards your teachers or peers. You’ve secured good grades in every test and never landed in detention ever. You submit your homework and assignments well on time. You’re patient, kind, and caring by nature. Plus, you’re dating Luke Thomas, yet another star student with a faultless record.”
I do a double take at the last statement. So the school keeps track of a student’s dating history too?
Again: A Young Adult Romance Page 13
