October Breezes

by Maria Rachel Hooley

  Devin arched his eyebrows. “Okay,” he finaly replied.

  “That way, I guess you can help me with adverbial clauses.” He grabbed his spiral and grammar book.

  “You need help, al right,” I quipped. “I just wasn’t thinking of homework.” Together we walked to the front door. I went first, and Devin ambled behind me.

  The living room was vacant save for what’s-his-name’s tweed jacket draped over the couch. From the kitchen, I heard laughter--the warm heartiness of his and the equaly happy sound of my mother’s. It halted my steps. How long had it been since my mother had laughed, let alone like that? Go away! I thought savagely. Make it easy and get the hell out like everyone else.

  “The kitchen is that way.” Grabbing my shoulders, Devin steered me toward the doorway as he leaned close from behind me.

  “Yeah,” I muttered. The smel of burgers cooking wafted across my nostrils. I pushed open the swinging door where my mother stood with the latest “Mr. Wonderful,” talking and laughing, their backs to us--at least until I smacked my books on the table.

  Wide-eyed, Devin gingerly set his next to mine.

  Mom and “Mr. Wonderful” whirled. “Skye, Devin,” my mom said, waving a spatula as she spoke. “How about a hamburger?”

  Devin had once said my mother looked too beautiful to be anybody’s mom, and, at that moment, wearing the most radiant, carefree smile I’d seen in years, he was right. Like me, she wore her hair long, and the natural curl waved her auburn tresses, radiating blonde and red highlights. She must have been a gypsy or a Bohemian at heart, considering the bright clothes she wore. Stil, she knew how to be stylin', and the untamed wardrobe accentuated her hair and features.

  Just slightly taler than my mom, Warren stood beside her.

  Athletically built, he seemed younger than he probably was, much like Mom, but his blonde hair grayed at the temples. He wore a button-down shirt, a tie, and cotton Dockers. Thin, gold-framed glasses perched high on his nose.

  “I’m not hungry,” I snapped and pointed at Devin. “And neither is he. He just demolished two burgers.”

  “Good afternoon, Skye.” Warren smiled and extended his hand to Devin. “Devin, is it?” Devin nodded and shook his hand. “Warren--Warren Jacobs.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” Devin said, offering a genuine smile. Gritting my teeth, I brushed between them, breaking the handshake.

  “Skye,” My mother said, placing the spatula on a spoon holder. “That was realy rude.”

  I batted my eyelashes exaggeratedly at Devin and said,

  “Oh, excuse ‘moi.”

  Devin frowned, but I ignored it and opened the fridge. I bent and puled two sodas from the door and returned to the table.

  “Have you started that book yet?” Mr. Wonderful asked , shoving his hands deeply into his pockets. "It's a great story." He glanced at my texts. I smiled, knowing I'd left it in my locker.

  “Teenagers can’t read—everyone knows that!” I felt his gaze resting on me, and I shrugged. “No, not yet.” I refused to look at him, even though he expected my attention. I had better things to focus on: algebra, English, and history, to name a few.

  “When you do, let me know. I’d like to hear what you think.”

  I snorted and opened the can. Yeah, I’ll just bet you want to hear a speed-bump daughter's opinions. I shook my head before forcing myself to look at him. “Oh, sure. I’l be glad to tel you what I think. If you’re stil around.” I took a drink.

  "Skye Wiliams!" Mom snapped as she walked to me.

  "Shut your mouth," she hissed.

  "It's al right," Warren said. He smiled, his eyes softening as he tilted his head slightly. I scrutinized his face, searching for sarcasm, but couldn’t find any. “Sure, Skye. Whenever you’re ready. I’l be here.”

  I took a deep breath, grabbed my books, and scurried from the room. Damn him, I thought. Damn him to hell. I marched into the living room, and Devin folowed as I paced near the sofa.

  "That was rude!" he barked, setting his books on the sofa.

  Frowning, he watched me pace. "What's wrong with you?"

  “Him,” I replied, thumbing toward the kitchen and then snatching his English book. If I hadn’t been trembling so badly, I might not have knocked off his notebook, showering the carpet with papers. Gritting my teeth, I wiled myself to calm down.

  “Skye,” Devin said, grabbing my arm. “You can’t find fault with him for breathing.”

  "I'm sorry I knocked your stuff over." I flinched and bent over, shoving pages back into his book. My fingers were frantic, and if I stopped moving he'd see me trembling. I felt it throughout my body, wavering in my breath.

  "It's no big deal. You've been clumsy your whole life.

  Why change now?" He lowered his head, trying to make me look at him. "Warren seems okay.” His forefinger gently rubbed my arm.

  “So did my father before he left—him and al the others.

  Everybody seems okay, but looking beyond that, you find the truth.”

  As I put the graded papers back, I saw a chemistry lab paper with his name and Bethany Fields’. I showed it to Devin and smiled.

  "Got a hot date?"

  Devin flushed and grabbed it. "She's just a friend and lab partner." He took the work and finished shoving it in, but as I watched, I realized he rarely made less than A's.

  Jealous, I asked, "Have you ever made a ‘C’ in your life?"

  He smiled. "Nope. Teachers like me too much." He feigned interest in re-organizing his notebook. I opened his textbook and flipped through the pages. I shrugged. “So what are you working on again?”

  “Getting you to listen,” Devin said through clenched teeth.

  “But you’re being stubborn.”

  “I’ve got to go with what I’m good at,” I smirked.

  Devin stepped behind me and set his hands on my shoulders; his fingers kneaded my skin. “That’s not what you’re the best at, Nicole Skye Wiliams. You used to be so good at trust ing.

  You picked me as your best friend, didn’t you?” He puled the book out of my hands and set it on the couch before forcing me to face him. "And I’m stil here."

  I leaned against his chest and closed my eyes, surrendering to the security of his arms. Closing my eyes, I listened to his steady heartbeat. My shoulders roled forward slightly, and suddenly I felt like crying. “That was different.”

  “Why?” I felt his voice vibrate in his chest as he spoke.

  “Because it was always easy with you. You were never anything different than you appeared.” The heater kicked on and blew a few textbook pages.

  Devin leaned over and whispered, “Maybe he is, too.” He pressed the bridge of his nose against my forehead.

  I puled away. “Yeah, right. I’m not being stubborn, just practical. The minute I get used to him, he’l leave. Everybody does sooner or later.”

  “Does that include me?” Devin swalowed hard, and his back stiffened.

  I cringed, and wondered.

  “You can’t answer that, can you? You may not believe in anyone else, but you stil believe in me.” Devin rested his chin atop my head. His hands covered mine. “Why can’t you give him a chance? What if he’s worth it?”

  “I’m not wrong. He’l leave. Soon.”

  “And if he doesn’t want to, you’l force him, won’t you?”

  he replied, sitting at the coffee table. He took my hand. “Maybe that’s what you want.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed.

  Devin arched his eyebrows, and his blue eyes stared defiantly. “I’m not. But he might stick around despite your efforts.

  Then what are you going to do?”

  “Want to bet?” I jerked away and folded my arms across my chest. “I can be the Daughter from Hel. It’s worked so far. I mean, gee, I was so good I got rid of my own father. Imagine that--

  just drove him away.” My voice dripped with sarcasm, but I didn’t feel sarcastic, not one bit. I baled my fingers so tigh
tly my nails dug into my palms.

  “You had nothing to do with that. It was a choice he made

  —a lousy one.” He touched my forehead, brushing an errant stray hair from my eyes. “And one day, he’l realize just how lousy a choice he made and he’l come looking for you.” He wiled me to meet his gaze, but I couldn't.

  “Right--when Hel freezes over he’l be back.” I retorted.

  “I’l get rid of Warren, one way or another—before he gets rid of me.”

  "I doubt he's trying to do that. " Devin crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking me, but he looked far more daunting than I felt. “You’ve taken this as a chalenge, haven’t you? Wel, I don’t think Warren is going to make it easy.”

  “We’l see,” I said.

  * * *

  Later that evening I lay on my bed, procrastinating as usual, dreading my trig homework. I thought absently about starting it when the phone rang. I folded my hands behind my head, figuring it was probably the Mockingbird Man, caling my mother. “Skye? It’s for you,” My mother yeled.

  I walked into the living room. Picking up the phone, I yeled, “I’ve got it, Mom” as I cradled the receiver against my chest.

  I lifted the receiver. “I take it you’re stil struggling with those adverbial clauses?”

  “Adverbial clauses?” asked a familiar voice I couldn’t recognize. “Yeah, I’m sure I have trouble with them, but that’s not why I’m caling.”

  “Who is this?” I asked sharply, feeling myself blush. And why does this voice sound so...nice?

  "Kelin, the guy you’re going out with tomorrow.” A slight pause filed the line. “Who did you think it was? Devin?”

  Something bothered me. The way he said Devin's name seemed sarcastic, but not quite. “Sometimes he cals,” I finaly admitted. But it was a half-truth at best. Devin and I usualy caled each other every night. It was a ritual. Then again, that wasn’t so unusual between best friends.

  “So why are you caling? Did something come up?” I spoke my wishful thoughts aloud as I leaned against the wal. I could hear my mother washing the dishes.

  “No, nothing came up,” he said. “I just caled to talk. I wanted to hear your voice.”

  I roled my eyes and wondered how many times that line had worked. “It’s the same as it was yesterday.” I looked at my feet, enjoying the carpet seeping between my toes.

  “Skye, I’m not a bad guy; you’re not giving me a chance.”

  Another pause. “I must be treading on toes here. You and Devin are going out, aren’t you? If you don’t want to go tomorrow--”

  A flush crept into my cheeks. I could back out. This was my chance. But what if I hadn't given him a fair chance? Any other girl would have given anything to be with him. I chewed my lip before I finaly responded. “I want to go.”

  “Then why do you seem so shocked I would cal?”

  I twirled the phone cord around my fingers. “Why do you want to take me out? Why me?” I finaly blurted, imagining his face.

  His blond hair shone beneath the fluorescent lighting. His letter jacket made him look so bulky. And that smile. He was so gorgeous, and he talked to... me.

  “You’re beautiful. Tyler and I were talking about how nice you look,” he said warmly.

  The cal waiting beeped, teling me another cal was coming in. “Can you hang on a second?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  I switched to the other cal. “Helo?”

  “How in the hel do you do these adverbial clauses?” Devin demanded. “And why can I find them when you're sitting next to me but when I’m by myself I forget what they look like?”

  I chuckled, imagining his frustrated expression. “Hang on a second, Devin.”

  “Okay--I’m not going anywhere, at least not until I figure this out,” he sighed.

  I switched back to Kelin. “Look, I’ve got to go. My mother has a cal,” I lied.

  “I’l see you tomorrow.”

  “‘Bye,” I said, ready to switch again. I slid down the wal until I reached the floor.

  “Skye, I’m looking forward to tomorrow evening.”

  His voice, warm and deep, sent butterflies tingling in my stomach. “Me, too,” I finaly said. “I’ve got to run.”

  “‘Bye," Kelin said.

  “‘Bye.” I switched lines quickly. “You sure do have a lot of problems in English.”

  Devin laughed. “Yeah, wel, that’s why it’s a good thing my best friend is crazy enough to enjoy the subject.”

  “Devin?” I said, brushing my long, dark hair.

  “Yeah?” I imagined his expression. He'd be arching his eyebrows with a devious grin.

  “Do you think I’m pretty?”

  “What?” he asked incredulously.

  “Do you think I’m pretty?” I repeated, feeling my cheeks flush. Why did I ask him? "Never mind," I amended. "Stupid question."

  Silence. Then Devin said, "I think you’re beautiful. But you should’ve known that. It’s not like I haven’t said so. What brought that up, anyway?”

  I twirled a hair around my index finger. “Oh, I just wondered.”

  “Yeah,” Devin said in a gravely voice. “Skye, you’re one of the prettiest girls in school. You always have been.”

  I looked at my toenails, frowning as I realized they needed to be painted. I tried to imagine Kelin and Tyler talking about the way I looked but couldn’t. Devin was a different story. He’d often told me how pretty I was--not that I’d ever felt it. I’d always been the outcast, the girl tripping over her own huge feet.

  And suddenly Kelin had noticed me.

  “Skye?” Devin’s voice prompted me. “You there?”

  “Yeah,” I said, even though mentaly I wasn’t. “Let’s talk about those clauses.”

  Chapter Three

  “You look...different,” Devin finaly said, leaning against the locker next to mine. He folded his arms across his chest in a characteristic Devin pose. As usual, he wore a softbal jersey with red sleeves and jeans.

  “Does it look bad?” I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. I glanced from the soft floral skirt flowing around my calves and accentuating my hips to the cream button-down sweater outlining my breasts. Granted, I rarely strayed from t-shirts and jeans, but I didn’t think I looked that bad. I'd curled my hair and fought the natural wave to have wisps framing my face.

  “No,” he said, stroking his chin as though thinking. “Not bad. Just wel, softer, like a girl.”

  I ducked my chin and leveled my gaze at him. “I a m a girl,” I snapped, setting my hands on my hips.

  Devin nodded slowly as though a new thought had dawned on him and he arched his eyebrows. “Maybe that’s why your swimsuit looks so different than mine?”

  “Funny.” I punched his arm playfuly.

  "Careful. You're supposed to be a girl, remember?" Devin slid his hands back to his jeans pocket. “Seriously, why are you dressed like that?”

  A group of guys passed, Kelin at their center. As Kelin saw me, and they stopped. “Hey, Skye,” he greeted me warmly as his gaze drifted over me, making me uncomfortable. “Nice outfit.”

  His voice came out deep and husky, almost a growl.

  I smoothed my sweater and wished for the second time that I hadn’t worn these clothes. What had possessed me?

  “Hey, Kelin,” I managed.

  Randy Smith, a linebacker, grinned and elbowed Kelin.

  “Yeah, Skye-- you DO look great.”

  Kelin elbowed him back and Randy shuffled off. Once his friends had departed, Kelin said, “I’l see you tonight, okay?”

  Devin glowered, not even trying to conceal his disdain.

  “Yeah, see you tonight,” I said. Avoiding Devin's demanding stare, I fished out my first-hour books.

  As Kelin and his cluster of friends ambled down the hal, I felt Devin’s fury burning holes in me. “Skye," he began, his voice more even than I'd expected, "What's going on tonight?” Instead of answering, I pretended to keep dig
ging for the books buried beneath the others. I could've just yanked them out, but the weight of the others made that a bad idea, as though if I did they would al come out.

  Devin latched onto my arm, and I exasperatedly yanked.

  True to form, the other books toppled. Devin scrabbled to hold them in. "Skye, what is going on?” Devin’s frown deepened.

  “You’re going out with him, aren’t you?” A statement, not a question. The even tone he'd managed earlier was gone, replaced by an edge I'd seldom heard him use. I'd figured he would be mad.

  Stil, wasn't he my best friend? What did he care? He snatched up my books and moved to shove them back, but I plucked them from his hands did it myself. He wasn't my boyfriend, and he wasn't my keeper, either. I don't know why I was so mad at that moment--I guess I was mad that he was mad. Friends were supposed to elbow you when good things happened and then move on. They were supposed to help you, not judge you.

  “Yeah,” I finaly said, looking at the book in my hand. The embarrassment of my clothes had faded and the anger suddenly gave way to frustration. Could it haven been because o f Devin's disapproval? I shrugged it off. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a stupid date.” Tears pricked my eyes and suddenly I was aware that I hurt. Why did it matter so much what Devin thought?

  “It’s not the fact you’re going on a date. It’s who you're going out with.” He touched my shoulders, and I fought with an odd desire to pul back. I didn't, but his hands felt leaden, and I felt strangely out of balance, like I would fal if he moved it. “He’s trouble, pure and simple.” His fingers squeezed softly.

  “You’re supposed to be my best friend, not my boyfriend,”

  I snapped, trying to mask the growing hurt. “Why don’t you be a friend and quit judging me?”

  His disapproving frown gave way to open-mouth surprise.

  Withdrawing his hands, he folded his arms back across his chest.

  “I’ve never judged you, Skye, not once.” I felt his gaze resting upon me, demanding that I look at him. “You finaly believe everyone is like your father--ready to bail. You test everyone to see how safe they are. You’re testing me right here, right now, and you think you can’t lose because either I appear jealous or possessive. I’m neither." He shook his head.