‘Does it bother you anymore how Ruby used to treat us at school?’ I muse, the question casually finding its way out into the open as my thoughts move in and out of childhood while I study the colours of the Christmas throw we’re using as the roof of our fort. I can feel Devon’s elbow against mine and hear the swish of him turning the page of our childhood book. Maybe it’s the mulled wine, maybe it’s the magical time of the year, but I feel the last remaining foundation of my wall shatter as I allow myself to enjoy the feeling of this amazing day – well, amazing besides the Ruby bits and my sudden remembrance of the way she gripped on to Devon earlier today.
I do suppose Hope was right at the cookie competition, more than anyone I do feel I can talk to D about everything and anything and I guess now is as good a time as any to talk about our love lives, we are grown-ups now after all.
‘I don’t know, I tend not to think about the negatives anymore. Sometimes that’s easier said than done being in the public eye now. I have to work a little harder, but I much prefer to see the positives.’ I can feel his shoulder move up and down as he shrugs against me. His feet are most certainly sticking out of our fort with his head almost level with mine and I wonder if that’s what he had been upset about at the skatepark, that he had found himself worrying too much about what other people thought in his new world of fame.
‘But you obviously like the person she’s become. I saw you laughing with her, how she’s always clinging to you. I have to be honest with you though, D, she’s not changed the way she treats me, but if she makes you happy and she somehow shows a different side to you then I’ll just have to learn to accept it.’ I smile at the cotton snowmen, wanting with all my heart to believe and act on what I just said, even though it feels like The Hulk has just inhabited my stomach and is thrashing around.
Devon shifts on to his elbow, placing our book on my stomach. I stay on my back tilting my head up so I can meet his gaze. Were his eyes always this vibrant, a deep brown with flecks of hazel in the low light?
‘What do you mean if she makes me happy?’ he asks, creases forming on his forehead, confusion etched on his face. I scrunch up my nose. Is he going to make me say it out loud?
‘You know if you and her are lovers. Hope tells me that’s what the magazines are saying, and you never seem to mind when she’s all pressed up against you. I mean she is gorgeous, like on the outside. She looks like a woman,’ I stammer, averting my gaze to the Christmas throw once more. It really is a pretty throw; handmade by Emily. She really does make the most beautiful things. A giggle escapes my lips as my brain registers the word “lover” lingering between Devon and me. I know I’m definitely high on Christmas right now, but also the pure joy I feel when Devon’s eyes crinkle with amusement too. His cheeks flush and he gives me the toothiest, cheesiest smile.
‘Lovers?’ he questions, an eyebrow raising like he’s that man in the action movie Hope and Jess had me watch. What’s his name? The Rock. Then a smirk replaces the awkwardness and if I wasn’t lying down, I think I would have been bowled over by how sexy Devon looks right now. How dare my nerdy ex best friend look so sexy propped up on his elbow with a slight red flush in his cheeks, those brown eyes huge and sparkling. What’s he playing at? He pokes me above my heart with his finger, which causes a firework to explode there, in all its green and red festive glory.
‘You think I want to be with Ruby? And did you actually just use the word “lovers”?’ He pokes me again, which sends a firework shooting towards my stomach. I try and ignore the embers heating my body and making my own cheeks a Christmassy shade of red.
‘Well, yeah, I guess, I don’t know. Are you not? I mean you came to see her two years ago – I thought you two might have kept in touch. And she’s glamorous and perfect for your red-carpet life,’ I say, only a little bit confused but determined to state out the facts and saying them out loud, getting them out in the open makes me feel more like I can come to terms with it if it’s actually true.
D bends his knee, now resting it over my shin. He shuffles to get comfy on our mound of blankets on the floor. He doesn’t seem bothered by our limbs touching and neither am I, though my body is deftly aware, distracting me ever so slightly from my attempt at a serious grown-up conversation.
‘Scar, you do know Ruby is a stylist – that’s why she’s been on set and hanging around,’ he says with a half-smirk and a small chuckle like he can’t believe what I just thought, but then his entertained features soften to a more serious tone, his eyes become slightly hooded as he absent-mindedly plays with the hem of my baggy tee and he lets out a heavy, “here goes nothing” kind of sigh.
‘I didn’t come here to see Ruby two years ago. I was nearby for a shoot and I wanted to see you. All these years I’ve wanted to see you. I’ve thought about you every day, but then I saw you. At the summer fair, I caught a glimpse of you. You were laughing with Jess and well, obviously I didn’t know who Jess was back then and I assumed he was your boyfriend.’ The blush creeps back on to his cheeks. His hand is now fiddling with the bow of my shorts. I seem to have forgotten how to breathe.
‘I saw you happy and I didn’t want to ruin that happiness. The last time I had seen you I had put a hurt behind your eyes I couldn’t bear. He made you laugh, and, in that moment, I knew everything had changed for good and we could never go back.’ I take my eyes off his dimpled cheeks to look him in the eye. He’s already looking at me intently and I suddenly feel like I’ve caught the kerb with the edge of my skateboard causing me to hurl towards the ground.
‘What do you mean, D? You don’t think we can be friends anymore?’ Our eyes are locked on each other’s and I find my hand tracing over his fingers that are messing with my bow. Devon clears his throat.
‘Not quite, Scar. You were wearing the sweetest denim pinafore with a yellow tee and your yellow pumps. Your hair was a little longer than it is now, maybe touching your shoulders, and I could see your blue eyes glistening in the sun. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, all grown-up. I realised then that I still loved you and that love had somehow grown, in all our years apart and through all the growing up, into something so much stronger. I wanted to be the one to look after you, like when we were kids, but so much more than that. It felt wrong seeing you with someone else. But I couldn’t fool myself. We’d spent so much time apart and seeing you with him – so radiant, so beautiful, so happy – I panicked. I worried I would only mess up again, that too much time had passed, and my feelings were just confused. Then you crashed into me at the press junket last week.’
His brown eyes are glistening now under the moonlight that’s sneaking in through the cracks in our fort and with the tears that are forming puddles on his lash line. But no more words leave his lips.
I’m trying to process all that he has said. He’d used the word “love” but I knew that. I knew I loved Devon when we were kids, just like I knew I loved my mum and dad and little Steve Rogers. But what did he mean stronger? Did it feel stronger, different somehow now? I want to reach out and stroke his cheek to assure him it’s OK and there’s no need for tears, but nervous laughter bubbles up inside me as I go over everything he said. ‘Wait, you thought I was with Jess?’ Giggles erupt and I swat D in the chest, making his shoulders relax as he joins in with my laughter. I may have ruined the moment a little but if we’re clearing the air, I feel nothing is off limits or an invalid point to make, and I need a second to make sense of my thoughts.