‘Hell no, don’t even say that and please don’t be mad. He didn’t know where to turn after your fight on Saturday and he certainly didn’t fancy going back to the inn to face security guards, media chaperones and the like, so Jess and I took him in and he ended up staying last night too. He’s kind of obsessed with our comic collection,’ Hope tells me, her face creased with empathy, concern, and a touch of amusement.
‘Oh, the poor and lonely little superhero,’ I tease, not feeling quite as mad as I thought I’d be hearing about my ex best friend and best friends hanging out without me. I’m sure the colourful figure in my hand is harbouring magical powers, for it’s making me feel like a kid again and keeping me calm.
‘Why did it bother you so much? The thought of Devon spending the night with Ruby?’ Hope asks. Her voice is soft as she folds her arms across her chest.
I glance out of the window; the snow is starting to trickle down again, as I ponder her question. ‘I’ve never had to think about Devon and other women before,’ I reply, the words coming out quiet.
*
‘I can’t believe you’re making me do this,’ I say, trudging up the path to the town hall where tonight our school is hosting a summer dance.
‘Oh, come on, Scar, all our friends are inside. It’ll be fun,’ Devon argues. He’s wearing slim-fitting jeans and a tight-collared polo. It’s hard not to notice he’s growing, and his clothes are fitting snugger.
‘You’re my friend and you’re out here, so I don’t have to go in,’ I note. Devon pushes open the door and loud music attacks my eardrums.
‘And now I’m inside, so you do.’ He smirks and grabs my hand.
I shuffle nervously in my black boots and denim playsuit as Devon pulls me along. I spot a few people from year ten but they’re all busy dancing and mingling. I don’t want to do either and tug at Devon when I find an empty table.
‘I’ll grab us drinks,’ he says confidently as I sit down. The older we get the more I notice how Devon isn’t as fazed by the looks we get, or the mean comments people make. He’s friendly to everyone and is always smiling.
‘Nice outfit.’ I hear the all too familiar voice from behind me followed by the sniggers that usual accompany it from Ruby’s bodyguards. ‘Did we just miss the line of boys begging to dance with you?’ Suddenly Devon appears at my side as if I just sent out an invisible Bat Signal. ‘Oh of course not – it’s just this one,’ Ruby adds with a cackle.
I see the blush creep up Devon’s neck but he doesn’t retaliate; instead he puts down our drinks, grabs my hand, pulls me up and leads me to the dance floor, shooting Ruby a wink as he spins me around.
*
‘We weren’t the kind of kids that played Mummies and Daddies or sent Valentine’s Day cards or giggled about crushes. If I’m being totally honest, seeing Ruby all over him at the pub was the first time I’ve thought about him being with other women. I guess it was always just the two of us. I never had competition,’ I confess and immediately cringe at what I’ve just said. ‘I didn’t mean it like that; there’s no competition, I’m not in a competition, I don’t want Devon in that way. It’s just weird,’ I ramble, the words rushing out as I try and explain to Hope what I mean. I’m confusing myself right now but sharing Devon is not something I’m used to. I keep that thought to myself though because I’m not really sharing him when he’s not mine in any way, shape or form.
‘I just feel protective towards him, which is stupid, but I’m going to stop and forget about it right now. He’s a grown-up and who he dates is none of my business,’ I say, matter-of-fact. My hand brushes over plastic Devon’s hair and cape.
Hope stands up straight with a kind smile on her face. ‘It’s more than OK to feel protective. You felt the same with me and Jess remember? It’s totally normal to feel this way. Totally just a friend thing,’ she says, turning back to her desk. I’m sure I see a flicker of a cheeky smile as she sits down.
‘You’re right and there’s no point in thinking about it anymore. I’ve made my peace and I don’t have to see him again,’ I say with a confident nod. It feels good to air all this out and get it off my chest. I can finally let go of it, so I don’t have to harbour it or think about Devon for another ten years.
‘Exactly. Now stop touching up Devon and get to work – you were late this morning,’ she mock scolds me with a wink and I immediately throw action figure Devon on to my desk before sending an eye-roll her way and getting to work.
12
‘My place for dinner tonight, no later than six-thirty and don’t be late,’ Hope says bounding over to me as the clock strikes five, and then she rushes out of the door before me, which is a first. We often leave together, or I take the lead if Hope needs to work late or I have dinner with my parents. I don’t get chance to tell her that I can’t and that I really need to get some work done on the Christmas fair project tonight.
Speaking of my parents, I should probably call by and say hello to mine before heading to Hope and Jess’s. We’ve missed our weekly dinners due to them being away and I know my mum will be expecting me; it wouldn’t be respectful for me not to greet them after their absence and see how they are. My dad, not being the tyrant my mother is, will just be excited to see me and catch up on all that has been going on in my life while he’s been away. I try and pop round to his building site during my lunch hour with a coffee at least twice a week so we can chat. I love learning all that I can about building, woodwork and tools, and spending time together – just the two of us. It’s nice not having to put on a pretence for my mum and occasionally getting to help and get my hands dirty.
I finish typing up my idea for a monthly Village Gazette, which I plan to put to Hope tomorrow. Now that I’ve written it down and hashed it out, it seems plausible and like this could be great going forward. Then I pick up mini Devon and tuck him into my backpack. Maybe mini Devon can work his magic and get me through a visit with my mother unscathed.
I love both my parents. They’re my parents – they raised me, fed me and kept a roof over my head – but it’s safe to say that though one should never show favouritism, I’ll always be a daddy’s girl. While my mum works at Duncan’s hairdressers and is forever trying to organise me, change me and wish me that little bit more girly, my dad is a builder and even now I don’t think he’d stop me if I tried to shimmy up the scaffolding to see if I can fly. Though one doesn’t need any more broken bones and I think I’ve learnt my lesson there.
He was always letting Devon and I run around the building sites making dens with wood and planks, when there was no work going on of course, and we wore our helmets. My dad is the only one, other than Devon, who supported my comic book aspirations. He was heartbroken when I gave it up and will still, every now and again to my mother’s disappointment, bring it up.
I put one foot through the half-opened front door when my dad swings it wide open with a big grin on his face. ‘Scar, do you know who’s back in town?’ he asks, pulling me in, ruffling my hair and slapping me on the back with great enthusiasm. Word sure travels fast around these parts; they’ve been back less than twelve hours. I kiss my dad’s cheek before my mum enters the hallway and gives me an air kiss.