Mixed Signals

by Alyssa Cole

  “Do you mind if I cut out early?” I managed to choke out. “I have to meet Devon. We’re working on a song, and I wanted to catch him before he has his environmental group meeting.”

  “Who is Devon?” Felix asked, at the same time Edwin said, “But we’re celebrating the end of the project tonight. Larry made his special chili and everything.”

  Larry nodded ruefully. “It’s been cooking all day. It’ll be at peak spiciness by the time we get to my house.”

  Shit. I’d forgotten that we were supposed to go to Larry’s place. But the longer I stood there, the more foolish I felt, and when I felt foolish I said the first thing that came to mind. “I would love to taste your chili, but speaking of virginity—”

  Edwin stood quickly. “Yeah, maybe you should go. I’ll walk you out to sign your time sheet.”

  The conversation picked up as we left the room, and as soon as we were out of earshot Edwin stopped and stepped in front of me. It wasn’t a threatening motion, but it showed that he wanted to talk whether I was in the mood to or not. He didn’t usually use his size as a factor in our interactions, and it freaked me out a little bit. “So, you and this guy are an item now?”

  I didn’t understand why he’d be bothered by it if we were. In that moment, I realized how much I’d come to depend on Edwin’s solidness. Now that things were just the slightest bit off with him, the reality of how horrible it could be if everything went wrong between us hit home. I didn’t want him to be mad at me, but I didn’t understand why he was staring at me like I’d done something wrong.

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know,” I said, and it was true. I was still upset about how Devon had lied. I couldn’t trust him. Even though we hadn’t gone any further than that first kiss, I felt something for him that didn’t feel quite like friendship. Something enough that it was weird for me to talk to Edwin about it. “We’re just hanging out right now.”

  Most nights at the dorm, and at work too. And unlike you, he’s told me flat-out that he likes me.

  Edwin nodded. “Okay. Maggie, I don’t want to be that guy—”

  My heart gave a huge, heavy thud in my chest. That guy who changes his mind about the girl crushing on him as soon as she finds a boyfriend? Part of me was really rooting for Edwin to be a fickle asshole.

  “—who interrogates his friend about her love life.” Oh. I snapped my gaze up to his and tried not to show my disappointment. “And I know I even told you to give Devon a chance before. It’s just, I think something might be up with him. Think about what a dick he was to you before he realized who you were. How mean he was to Danielle.”

  I raised my hand. “I was way meaner to Danielle than he was.”

  “He lied to you about the foundation of your previous relationship, the one you’re using to justify whatever thing you have going on with him now.” He looked like he knew he’d said the wrong thing as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

  “Justify? Excuse me, who exactly would I be justifying my relationships to?” My voice went all hoarse and adolescent boy, the way it did when I was really feeling my indignation. “In case you were wondering, you’re totally being that guy right now. Maybe you should worry about your own dating situation if things are getting so bad that Larry’s plumber’s crack is a distraction for you.”

  His mouth tightened, and I had my answer to my question from a few weeks back—his dimples were even deeper when he was mad, like some weird evolutionarily designed trap. “You can do whatever you want with whoever you want, but you’re my friend, and I want you going in with all the available information. Devon is hanging out with a bad crowd.”

  I didn’t understand. “The only people Devon hangs out with besides me are the hippies from his grown-up 4-H club. They talk about using algae as light sources and call that a good time.” I was defending Devon, but every time he’d mentioned his friends I’d gotten a weird vibe. I didn’t know why I was being contrary when all Edwin was doing was trying to look out for me. Maybe because I wished his interest in my love life wasn’t confined to making me feel stupid about my decisions. He never meant to, of course, but that didn’t change the humiliation of him thinking I was gullible enough to be duped by Devon twice.

  He closed his eyes as if reining in his annoyance—it was a look I’d seen on my family members’ faces often over the years. “Hippies used to be considered public enemies, you know,” he said.

  “Thanks for the history lesson. Are you done, or do you need me to adjust your tinfoil hat for you?”

  “Maggie.” He sighed. “Just be careful you don’t get mixed up in something without realizing it.”

  “Sheesh, way to have faith in my discernment.”

  “I have faith in your ability to forgive people. Even those who don’t deserve it. I don’t want that to bite you in your ass.” I’d catalogued all of the ways Edwin looked at me, and right then, I was expecting “my friend’s lil sis is annoying me.” Instead, he was staring at me with an intensity that didn’t make sense and that I couldn’t classify. I wished I had some kind of emotional Shazam app, like the one that could identify songs for you with just a few bars of music. “You can be pissed off at me,” he said. “Just be careful.”

  “Maggie!” Devon’s perfect voice penetrated the little bubble that had enclosed Edwin and me during our argument, reminding me that we were in public. He loped up to the front door of the building, his cheeks ruddy from jogging in the cool autumn air. “I have great news—we have our first gig!”

  Edwin’s warning still rang in my ears, but I couldn’t help the delight that burst in me. Devon had mentioned trying to book a show, and it looked like he’d managed to set up our first college engagement. “Really?”

  “Come on, walk me to my meeting and I’ll tell you about it.” He spoke to me as if Edwin wasn’t there, which reminded me that he was. I turned to Edwin but couldn’t meet his eyes after regressing to the brattiness I’d been trying to break myself of. Being able to differentiate between me feeling dumb and someone thinking I was needed to happen sooner rather than later. I gave Edwin a quick hug. “I gotta go. But I heard you. I’ll be careful.”

  He nodded and walked off; it seemed he was in agreement with Devon that they should pretend the other didn’t exist. They were never in the same place at once, actually. That accounted for why I’d unconsciously started thinking of my days as split between Devon time and Edwin time. I pushed that troubling thought out of my mind. It was always Maggie time, and it was best I remembered that. Edwin had warned me about Devon, but he didn’t know he was dangerous for me too, in a way.

  When I walked up to Devon, he threw his arm around my shoulder. It felt cool, but unnatural, like a popped collar. I shifted, trying to get comfortable with his touch and wondering if being comfortable with him should require so much thought.

  “Are you ready to become the most famous girl at the university?” he asked. His arm cinched tighter around me. His behavior felt more like territorial pissing than a display of affection.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” I deadpanned. “Being mobbed by tens of people might be too much for my shy nature.”

  “You can’t stop the inevitable, Maggie.” His words felt weighted, like his arm as it pulled me close. “We’ve got big things ahead.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Stop twitching your eye.” Danielle hovered in front of me, wielding her mascara wand.

  “I can’t. I’m not doing it on purpose.” I squeezed my eyes shut, but as soon as she got close to my lashes, my body’s defense mechanism alerted me to impending danger. My eye twitched again.

  “You’re going to show up at your first gig with one eye missing if you keep this up.” I felt the brush glide across my lashes as she spoke, meaning her reflexes had been faster than mine. She jabbed at the other set of lashes and when I opened my eyes,
she was smiling at me. “Perfect.”

  I doubted I looked as good as she did, her signature panda hat accented by a black dress and knee-high boots, but I jumped in front of the mirror to see what she’d done.

  “Dani! Thank you! This looks amazing!” She’d given me a dramatic smoky eye using shimmery black eye shadow. Blue liner at the inner corners and on my lower lash line made the look pop and accented my slouchy blue tee and tight black jeans perfectly. I rubbed gel in my hair and scrubbed my hands through it so my hair spiked out in all directions. After throwing on my heeled booties, I was ready for Devon’s and my debut. As a band, although I was worried that he was hoping this led to something more. The performance was at the off-campus house where several members of Devon’s club lived, and he was a bit too excited to introduce me to his friends.

  There was a knock at the door, and I opened my mouth to say “give me a minute,” but Devon was already walking in. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me. “Erk.” His eyes went wide and his gaze traveled over my body like he was taking notes for later.

  I knew what it meant for a guy to look at you like that, and my libido appreciated it, but I still wasn’t sure if I was ready for anything more than a duet with Devon. The whole situation would have been much easier if we’d been total strangers, but life couldn’t be that simple.

  “You do good work, Danielle,” I said, glancing over at her. She often clammed up when Devon came around—not being cold, but not being herself the way she was when we hung out with Edwin. I’d asked her if Devon bothered her in any way, and she said he’d apologized for being a dick that first day. She was too excited on our behalf to rein in her demeanor.

  “I’m the daughter of engineers. Precision is in my genes.” She turned and began gathering up all the little pots of makeup and brushes she’d scattered over my bed.

  “Well, thanks to your parents too, then,” I said.

  She slid past Devon as he walked over to me, carrying an armload of stuff to the tackle box that served as her makeup storage and kneeling down to return everything to its rightful place, leaving me with Devon and his anxious glances.

  He was as handsome as I’d ever seen him. He’d gotten the hair product memo and had done something to his usually shaggy locks that gave them a perfectly mussed style. His tan had faded weeks ago, but the olive shirt he was wearing complemented his eyes and sandy hair, giving him the appearance of a golden glow.

  “You clean up well,” I said with a grin. I felt just the smallest tremor of something more as he gazed down at me with unvarnished interest in his eyes. He stared into my eyes, but the intensity wasn’t attractive, like it was with Edwin. It was insistent, like he was trying to force me to acknowledge the feelings he had been hinting at over the last few weeks. I wished I wasn’t so ambivalent, but I wasn’t sure whether the guy I’d cared so much about was real, or even if he ever had been. That doubt alone should have meant case closed, but communications between the brain and the heart weren’t always that clear-cut.

  I know you’re just being a tease. A voice from the past that I never wanted to hear again.

  “You’re always beautiful,” Devon said, his voice drowning out the ugly echo of my memory.

  I’d read about crooked smiles and wondered what was so endearing about them; the one Devon gave me now illustrated what the big deal was clearly. The way just one side of his mouth tilted up rendered him more vulnerable somehow, as if he didn’t dare hope for enough happiness to commit to the full motion.

  His hand smoothed down over the spiky hair I’d just worked hard to arrange.

  “Knock it off!” I said with a laugh as I ducked from under his hand.

  “You’re not escaping that easily,” he said in a low voice, and then he pulled me into an embrace. I froze. Devon touched me all the time, but not like this. Sometimes he was a bit too familiar for my liking, but there was always room for doubt, to tell myself that we were still friends getting reacquainted. Right now there was no doubt of what he wanted, though.

  I should have wanted to sink into his touch—and part of me did—but the bigger part of me was fighting the instinct to shrug him off and break free. I told myself it was because I didn’t want to make Danielle uncomfortable, but I wasn’t ready for him to touch me with such easy familiarity, especially after the memory that had just shouldered its way past my defenses.

  His smile might have been charming, but I couldn’t risk more with him. Not when he knew so much of the truth about me and I still hadn’t completely untangled fact from fiction for him. Not when his nearness had brought me back to my most helpless moment.

  I held my face away from him, trying to preserve my makeup, and when I looked at him he was already waiting to meet my gaze.

  Isn’t this what you wanted? my libido demanded, but annoyance trailed that thought like tissue stuck to the bottom of your fuck-me heels, ruining the fantasy. Devon had once said he’d learned to get people to like him in five languages. That took a lot of work. A lot of ego. As the green of his irises receded and his pupils widened, I wondered how much of his desire for me was fueled by the fact that I held him at arm’s length. There was a difference between challenging someone and being a challenge for them, and I didn’t want to be the latter.

  Danielle’s hand landed on my shoulder. “Do you have a thicker coat than that, Marge? Unless you plan on letting Devon button you up in his pea coat and carry you there.” I didn’t know if she could sense my discomfort or if this was her way of turning the hose on us, but I was grateful for the disruption.

  “Marge?” I scoffed, pulling away from Devon and heading toward my closet to layer on a thick hoodie and John’s blazer, topped with a long wool scarf that could make up for the warmth I’d lost when I cut my hair.

  “I think Marge suits you better than Maggie. It’s like one of those tall tales. ‘Large Marge Seong with a voice so strong they could hear her in outer space.’” I laughed, and she pulled on her coat and burled out another one. “Large Marge Seong, who could fell trees with her mighty guitar. She crushed undeserving men beneath her heels and used their femurs to stir her morning coffee.” She didn’t look at Devon, so I wasn’t sure if it was a jab at him or just her imagination getting away from her again.

  He glanced at his watch. “We should go. Greg doesn’t like it when people are late.”

  I scoffed, feeling the familiar annoyance with the way he acted as if this Greg guy was the boss of anyone, especially me. “Is Greg paying us for this gig? If not, he can wait for Danielle to zip up her coat.”

  The look of adoration faded from Devon’s face and he shook his head. “He’s paying with exposure, like how we pay for school by digging through trash. That doesn’t mean you can show up for class anytime you want, does it?”

  “I’m ready. Let’s just go,” Danielle said. She plucked at the frayed string hanging from her hat. I wondered how someone so conflict-averse put up with me on a daily basis.

  “Alright, let’s do this,” I said, trying to be civil. There was no reason to argue, anyway. I had no say in who Devon looked up to, and acting like I did would only give him ideas. “We have to walk in the cold or wait for the campus van in the cold. Both require us to freeze our asses off, so we might as well get it over with.”

  We hurried out of the dorm, and the frigid gust of wind that smacked me in the face almost knocked me over. I couldn’t believe we had to walk a mile in this weather and enviously eyed the vintage muscle car parked in front of our building. I needed to befriend some of the rich kids in my dorm.

  The jingle of keys grabbed my attention; Devon walked over to the car and opened the door, as if that was normal. “Or we can ride there in style.” He was so full of pride that I wondered if he even remembered all of the lies he’d told me.

  “This is your car?” I couldn’t keep the accusation out of my voice. Devon had sai
d his family didn’t have money back when we used to talk, and he’d commiserated with me about having to learn to drive in my parents’ old van, as if he had a shitty car too. Even when he’d revealed his parents were diplomats, I hadn’t thought otherwise about that. It wasn’t as if working for the government meant you were rolling in dough.

  Maybe it was a gift. Maybe he found it. Maybe it was a labor of love that had been restored from a cheap piece of crap.

  “Old cars are really the only thing available now,” he said, immediately going into defensive mode. The smile had dropped from his face and he looked annoyed, as if I was the one who’d done something wrong. “Okay, so my family had more money than I let on before the Flare. That doesn’t matter now, does it? I dig through just as much garbage as you do at the farm.” His chest heaved and a stream of condensed air huffed from his nose. “It’s too cold to stand around fighting. Driving us over was supposed to be a nice surprise.”

  In my mind, a series of connections were being made, past and present and future, making me feel unstuck in time. I recalled one of our past conversations. I’d complained about how it sucked not being as rich as everyone else, how I hated when classmates came into my parents’ store when I was behind the register. He had agreed, telling me how he’d been picked on for being poor. That couldn’t have been true. I realized now that he carefully avoided talking about the government-run shelter he’d been taken to because of his dad’s status, how when I brought up bad things that had happened after the Flare, he empathized but shared nothing. A relationship with Devon would always be hydroplaning on a thin level of mistrust, and I’d always have to be prepared for the inevitable spinout.

  “You getting in or what?” He was mad, but also a little scared, like he knew how close I was to walking away. Why can’t you just be normal? I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to tell him to fuck off and grow the fuck up and other important things that relied on the f-word. But I also wanted to play. If George could put up with John and Paul, and Zayn could put up with Harry and Co., I could also deal with an unstable asshole of a musical partner for the night. I wasn’t about to blow off what might be my only gig because he had a problem with telling the truth. That would be unprofessional.