Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better (7 page)

“That’s right,” Luke says, smiling.

What? Why? How is it he can remember his ex-girlfriend’s birthday, and not remember that there is a very big semiformal coming up to which I am currently dateless?

“Anyway, you should all come,” Bailey says. “It’s on Saturday.” She’s having a boy/girl party? Great. I’ve never been to a boy/girl party. But of course I can’t tell her that. She’s probably been having tons of boy/girl parties since she was five. Not to mention all the boy/ girl parties she’s probably
been
to. And I know Luke’s been to boy/girl parties, since he’s always been A-list, and they have tons of those things.

“Sure,” I say. “I’ll come.” No way I’m letting Luke go by himself to Bailey Barelli’s birthday party. Hmm. I wonder if he’ll get her a present. Do I have to get her a present? Probably, otherwise she’d know that I didn’t get her one just because I don’t like her. I wonder if Luke and I can get her a joint present. Something kind of generic, like a scented candle or a journal. Perfectly nice, but not that personal. And I’ll sign the card, “Best, Devon and Luke.” Definitely not ‘love.’

“Great!” Bailey says. “And make sure you bring
Greg.”

“I’ll ask him,” I say. “But I’m not sure he can make it.”

Kim Cavalli comes up to us at that moment, which makes no sense, because I know for a fact that her first class is math, which is on the complete other side of the school, and the bell is about to ring in one second. I guess she doesn’t care about being late. She’s wearing super big hoop earrings that almost touch her neck, and her hair is in a ponytail.

“Ohmigod,” she says. “What’s going on out here?” But she smiles when she says it, like she can’t imagine anything could possibly be going on, since she’s not involved.

“I was just inviting everyone to my party,” Bailey says. “Devon’s going to bring Greg.”

“Well,” I say. “I said I’d ask him if he wants to go.”

“It seems like maybe you don’t want to bring him,” Luke says. He looks slightly upset.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I say. starting to feel a little sick to my stomach. Why isn’t the bell ringing? Seriously, every time you want or need the bell to ring, it never does. “I just can’t promise that he’s going to come.”

“He might be sick.” Mel, who up until this point
has been pretty quiet, offers up this gem.

“Sick?” Kim laughs. Her earrings sparkle, catching the light as she moves. “Why, what’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing’s wrong with him,” Mel says. “He just sometimes . . .” She trails off.

“Gets sick,” I finish for her, lamely. “He has a very compromised immune system.”

“Eww,” Bailey says. “That sounds gross.” She wrinkles her tiny little nose and pushes her hair out of her face. Ohmigod. Is Barelli wearing a nose ring? She is! A little nose jewel right on the side of her nose. It’s one of those stick-on ones, obviously, since she didn’t have it yesterday.

“It’s not gross,” I say, not wanting Luke to think that the guy I dated before him was gross. “I had to take care of him a lot.”

“Because of his compromised immune system?” Kim looks at me skeptically. “Well, hopefully he can make it on Saturday. I mean, after that whole thing with you making up a fake relationship with Jared, it would be nice if you could prove you were trustworthy.”

I’m about to ask her to whom, exactly, I have to prove I’m trustworthy. Her? Barelli? The only people in this group I owe anything to are Luke and Mel. And Mel already knows the truth. And Luke, well . . . I sigh.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “He’ll be there.”

“Are you crazy?” Lexi asks me. We’re in
Callie’s Closet, a consignment store a few blocks from my school that always has name brand stuff super cheap. We walked here after the last bell rang, which of course, constituted me using Lexi’s cell again. Totally ridiculous. “Why would you tell her
Greg
is going to come?”

“I don’t know,” I moan, flipping my way through a rack of skinny jeans. “It was Kim! She brought up the whole lying-about-Jared thing, and before I knew it, it just happened.” I lower my voice to a horrified whisper. “I cracked under the peer pressure.”

“Ugh, Kim,” Lexi says, shaking her head. “That girl is lethal.” She comes over to the rack I’m at and holds up a turquoise sweater. “Cute or ugly?”

“Cute,” I tell her. I hold up a pair of jeans and eye the price tag. Hmm. “Is it worth paying this much for something that’s probably just a fad?”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Lexi says. “Skinny jeans are not a fad.”

“Anything that’s only going to last a season or two is definitely a fad.” I add them to the pile of stuff in my arms anyway.

“Ooh,” Lexi says, looking at a Versace dress that’s hanging on the wall. “That is absolutely fabulous.” She rushes over and checks the price tag. “You should try it on.” Lexi likes shopping here because she can find staples, like sweaters and jeans, and maybe some shoes. But Lexi can afford to buy the current season’s name brand stuff, so she doesn’t really
need
to shop here.

“Luke hasn’t even asked me to the dance yet,” I say. “So I don’t have to worry about finding a dress.” And even if I did have to worry about it, I couldn’t afford that dress. Even at consignment shop prices. I sigh and put the pile of stuff I’m holding down on a rack. I probably shouldn’t be buying anything. I need to save my allowance for a dress just in case.

“He’s totally going to ask you!” Lexi snaps her gum. “Ooh, vintage!” She holds up a pair of Prada shoes that can’t be more than two seasons old. She puts one on her foot and then frowns. “Hmm, do these make me look like I have cankles?”

“Lexi!” I say. “Please focus!” Lexi does not have cankles. “Some of us have real problems, like a fake ex-boyfriend, ever heard of it?”

“Well, you already got out of one fake ex-boyfriend mess, how much worse can another one be?”

“You did not just ask me that,” I say. I pick up a bracelet off of a jewelry tray and hold it up to my wrist.

“Devon,” Lexi says. “I don’t want to hear this negative attitude that is now permeating the store.”

“Did you just say ‘permeating’?”

“Totally,” Lexi says. “It’s one of our English vocab words.” She smiles. Lexi has new braces. Light blue. Very cute. She also has a real boyfriend that asked her to the dance. I try not to feel jealous.

“This is not the end of the world.” It sure feels like it. I follow Lexi obediently to the register. “Aren’t you getting anything?” she asks.

“Not today. I don’t have any money, and the money I do have, I’m saving for the dress just in case Luke does ask me.” I’m enjoying feeling very sorry for myself as Lexi checks out. She spends over four hundred dollars on jeans, shoes, and accessories, all on a prepaid credit card that her mom gave her.
My
mom is supposed to be picking us up, so we head outside to wait.

A few raindrops are falling from the sky, and there’s no sign of my mom, so Lexi and I decide to head into the coffee shop next door. We order cappuccinos with
extra vanilla shots and sit down in some squashy chairs by the window.

“Hmm,” Lexi says, once we’re settled in. “I have a fab idea! Let’s make a list!”

“A list of what?” I ask warily. Last time Lexi wanted to make a list, we ended up listing all the clothes she owned, plus possible outfit combinations.
So
not the way I want to spend my afternoon.

“Ways to get out of the whole Greg situation!” She reaches into her bag, rummages around, and pulls out a purple notebook with a big swirly “A” embossed in gold on the bottom, for her full name: Alexis.

I take a sip of my cappuccino, letting the warmth of the foam slide down my throat. I check my watch. My mom is twenty minutes late now, but I don’t even care. Once we get into my mom’s car, there’s no way we’d be able to talk about this.

“Now,” Lexi says, tapping her pen against the paper and looking thoughtful. “We need to come up with options.”

“Options,” I repeat.

“Yeah,” she says. “Of things we can do to fix this whole problem.”

“Um, move far away and/or transfer to boarding school?” I try.

Lexi nods seriously and writes “Move away and/or go to boarding school” on her pad.

“I was joking,” I say.

“Oh.” Lexi crosses out what she just wrote, and then, thinking better of it, pulls the top sheet off her pad and crumples it up into a ball.

“It’s hopeless,” I tell her, dropping my head onto the table. “Just hopeless.” What is wrong with me? Have I not learned my lesson? Maybe I should just tell everyone the truth. Luke will break up with me, Kim and Bailey will laugh behind my back, but at least my life will be less complicated. A nice, completely normal, uncomplicated life. That sounds very nice.

“Hey,” Lexi says, looking over my shoulder. “Isn’t that your dad?”

I turn around and see my dad coming into the coffee shop. “Finally,” I say, standing up. My mom must have gotten tied up doing something for work, and sent my dad to get me instead.

“Dad,” I start to call, but then I stop. Because behind him is a tall blond woman wearing a business suit and carrying a briefcase. A tall blond woman who follows my dad up to the counter and orders a latte. A tall blond woman who then sits with my dad at a table. A tall blond woman who makes Lexi go, “uh-oh,”
under her breath. A tall blond woman who is definitely not my mother.

“Devon, you can’t jump to conclusions,” Mel says. It’s later that night, and I’m sitting on her bed, cross-legged. Lexi’s there too, on the floor, flipping through a magazine.

“Mel, he was at a coffee shop with another woman,” I tell her. I lean over the bed and pull the hair tie out of my hair, letting it brush against the floor, all the blood rushing to my head.

After Lexi and I spotted my dad with the mystery woman, we tried to get close to where they were sitting, and I swear I overheard my dad say “when we move.” Hello! He’s planning on moving in with this woman! Will I have to go too? Will I have to switch schools? What will my mom do? Where will Katie live?

Lexi and I laid low, and finally, they left. About five minutes later my mom pulled up in front of the coffee shop. Apparently, she thought my dad was supposed to pick me up, which was why she was late. I didn’t have the heart to tell her what I saw.

“Maybe he meant ‘when we move tables’ or something,” Mel offers.

“Maybe,” I say, flipping myself back over. I look
over at Lexi. “Did it seem like that’s what he meant?”

“No,” she says, still paging through the magazine.

“Ugh,” I say. My head feels all wobbly. I can’t tell if it’s because of my dad or because I was hanging upside down.

“This isn’t that big of a deal.” Lexi shrugs. “I mean, affairs happen. It’s totes the hip thing these days.”

“Totes?” Mel asks, confused.

“It means ‘totally,’” I explain. “Anyway, I don’t care if it’s the new hip thing, my dad might be cheating on my mom!”

“And would that
really
be the end of the world?” Lexi asks. She takes a sip from her diet Coke. “Remember this summer when your parents were having problems and they felt so guilty about it that they sent you away to be with your grandma?”

“Yes!” I say. “It was awful.”

“But you had all those cute clothes,” Lexi points out. I stare at her blankly. Is she really saying that it will be okay if my parents are having problems because at least I will have cute clothes? She flips another page in the magazine. “Ooh,” she says, holding it up to show us, “I told you skinny jeans aren’t just a fad!” Apparently she is.

“My life is a mess,” I say. I tick the reasons off
on my fingers. “One, my parents are maybe possibly getting divorced. Two, Luke has not asked me to the dance. Three, Bailey Barelli is demanding I bring my fake boyfriend to her stupid, dumb boy/girl party that I don’t even want to go to.” A piece of my Passion Plum nail polish flakes off and lands on my fingertip. “And now my manicure is ruined.”

“Here,” Lexi says, pulling a free sample of perfume out of the magazine she’s reading. “You can have the free sample.” She generously sets it down on the bed next to me.

“Thanks,” I say. I open it up, and a flowery scent fills the room. I rub some on my wrists and all over my neck, but it doesn’t make me feel better. How did everything become so complicated? I thought my parents were getting back on track. They were seeing Dr. Meyerson, they were working on their harsh tones . . . why would my dad
do
something like this?

“Hey,” Mel says, sitting down on the bed next to me. “I’m sure that it’s nothing.”

“You are?” I search her face for any kind of insincerity, any clue that she’s just saying this to make me feel better.

“Definitely,” she says. “That woman was probably just someone from your dad’s work.”

“You think?”

“Totally,” Mel says. “You just need to talk to him about it, and then you’ll feel better.”

“Now let’s work on your fake boyfriend issue!” Lexi says excitedly. I sigh. That seems pretty unimportant now in the grand scheme of things.

“The fake boyfriend issue,” Mel says. “Is actually pretty easy to fix.”

“It is?” I ask, interested in spite of myself.

“Yes,” Mel says. “Because you’re both missing something here.”

“The fact that Devi should have learned her lesson about fake boyfriends?” Lexi asks.

“No,” Mel says.

“The fact that I should be secure in my womanhood and my relationship and just be able to ask Luke what is going on?” I try.

“No,” Mel says.

“Those are both very good points,” I say. Lexi nods.

“Those
are
very good points,” Mel says. “But what’s done is done.” She takes the empty perfume sample out of my hands and drops it into the garbage. “Devon, what does your new fake boyfriend have that your old fake boyfriend doesn’t?”

I think hard. “I dunno,” I say. I haven’t really created
him yet. I try to think of something that my new fake boyfriend would have. Something that Jared, my old fake boyfriend, doesn’t. Something that would make Luke very, very, jealous. Millions of dollars? No, Luke’s not that materialistic. Maybe he’s a prince? Nah, then I’d have to move to a foreign country, and since Luke is so into mock trial, I’m guessing he’s pretty patriotic. “His own four-wheeler?” I try.