‘That’s crazy but that’s good to know.’ I nod, though it won’t put a stop to magazines gossiping and spreading rumours about his love life, knowing where Devon stands on pretending to be in a relationship with another woman does make me feel more at ease.
‘Right, you best get moving,’ I say, making to stand up. Devon looks at me with his lips parted like he has more to say or something he wants to ask. I know this because he’s my very best friend and yes, I think I’ve claimed him back as that after this week.
However, he’s not talking and he’s not asking questions, which is very unlike him. ‘Come on, you can’t be late.’ I try and muster all the chirpiness I can when thinking about going on with my daily routine without the excitement of seeing him at the end of the day or him being a part of any of it.
Devon shuffles in the blanket and drops a kiss on my nose as he stands up. ‘Yes, I’d better. OK,’ he replies looking a little flustered. ‘Scar? Erm…’ He shakes his head like he’s thinking over what he wants to say. I’ve never seen him look so nervous.
‘D, it’s OK. Go and get ready,’ I say gently, trying to soothe the anxiety I can feel radiating off him.
I set about tidying up the living room, folding the blankets and putting them on the couch, collecting our snacks from the floor and popping them on the coffee table.
‘Scar, there’s this really amazing art school in New York and I think it would be perfect for you,’ he informs me. ‘I know you love it here; I’m not asking you to move to New York – it would just be for a couple of months. This place, you would do awesome. It would be so good for you,’ he adds, an excitement but nervousness in his tone.
I can’t help the guffaw that comes out of me in disbelief as I sprinkle a few more fishy flakes in Ed’s tank. ‘Devon, I can’t leave Hope for a couple of months. I have a job and my dad would miss me.’
‘I know. Look, I know you work hard but I thought you could still work for Hope but you could start focusing on your drawing again, pushing a little bit to make your dreams come true and your dad would miss you but he’s always wanted that for you,’ Devon goes on.
‘Devon, stop. I have plenty of things to focus on at work, especially with the magazine being in limbo right now. I haven’t even thought about it all weekend. I can’t give myself more distractions and I certainly can’t just drop everything and leave Hope with all the work. It’s fine,’ I say, my voice coming out firmer as I feel a drop of anger bubbling in my stomach.
‘But, Scar, it’s not fine. You can’t just go back to how it was before.’ Devon is leaning towards me, hunched over with his arms out and bent at the elbows as he speaks, trying to catch my eye as I faff about with cushions. The drop of anger becomes a full-on splash.
‘Before what, Devon? I loved my life. I loved the people in my life. You have no right to come here and tell me what’s fine and what isn’t,’ I say, my voice turning hard as I throw the cushions back onto their spots on the couch.
‘But it wasn’t fine, Scarlett. You’re telling me your definition of fine was hiding who you were, working a job you’re not truly passionate about, shoving your dreams in a dark hole and worrying about what everyone else thinks? That’s fine?’ he adds, causing the air to leave my lungs.
I feel attacked. Tears prickle my eyes. I turn my body towards the blurry Christmas lights and blink a few times to encourage the water in my eyes to disappear. I don’t want Devon to see me cry. I was stupid to let him in.
‘Who you’re calling “everyone” are people that care about me. They make me happy too. They are loyal and kind and they’re here for me. You might have been able to turn your back and drop everything, but I can’t. I can’t leave Springhollow and I won’t. That’s not who I am,’ I say, my voice breaking, my bottom lip trembling.
‘That’s not fair, Scar; I didn’t drop everything. I tried to be a part of your life. You pushed me away. I’m not telling you to leave, I just don’t want you to forget who you are and what you’re capable of. You don’t have to bury that part of you – you can have it all.’ Tears well up in Devon’s dark brown eyes. He steps forward to console me, but I step back, bumping into the plain silver baubles on the tree that jingle when I hit them.
*
‘Scarlett, stop being so ridiculous, you’re going to school. Could you please take that cap off? That boy was not the only person in the world – you have lots of other friends,’ my mum scolds from the bottom of the stairs as she looks me up and down. I don’t remove my cap. I walk down the stairs at a snail’s pace and head to school and with every step I take I feel as if I’m going to be sick.
I sit quietly at the back of class trying not to look over at where Devon usually sits, distracting myself by trying to draw with my left hand. Mr Cassidy is talking about equations, but I barely hear a word, until he clears his throat in front of me. ‘Miss Davis, I think you’ll find that you will have more success in life if you stop with your silly doodling and actually pay attention to the lesson.’
The whole class sniggers.
The lunch bell twists my stomach into uncomfortable knots. I make it to the cafeteria door and glance around at the tables, trying to figure out where to sit when Beth, Ruby’s right-hand bodyguard, swipes my hat off my head, before Ruby steps in front of me. ‘Oh my God, she’s crying,’ Ruby says, her voice carrying across the large space.
‘No, I’m not. Go away, Ruby,’ I mutter, grabbing for my hat. How could my eyes still be puffy from this morning?
‘You’re so pathetic. I’m not surprised Devon had to go all the way to New York to get away from you,’ she says and I don’t stick around to hear the laughter. I turn and flee to the girls’ toilets where I hide until the bell indicates it’s home time.
*
‘I know who I am. You don’t get to come here after ten years and tell me who you think I am. I’m so happy New York was and is a success for you and I’m ridiculously proud of how your life has turned out. But I’m the alien-loving weirdo who failed her GCSEs and had to make them up in college because her mother made her. I’m the girl who went on dates in dresses her mother picked out for her and who barely ate because said dresses were too tight. I’m the girl who keeps Hope’s life organised so I don’t have to spend too much time dwelling on mine, the girl who loves nights in with her goldfish and staring at the sky from a park bench while comic strips swirl around in her head.
I’m the girl who, since you left, has felt too afraid to dream too big because sometimes when you take too big a leap you end up with broken and fractured pieces of you that you don’t quite know how to put back together again on your own,’ I tell him, tears falling down my cheeks, my choppy hair getting stuck to them. I shouldn’t have let Devon in. This week was a mistake. I don’t know what I was thinking. ‘It’s time to go now, Devon,’ I add hastily when he goes to speak. I walk past him and gesture towards the stairs. ‘I don’t get to have it all. You’ve got to get back to your world. I’m not good enough for you,’ I mumble.