sᴡᴇᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ 𖦆 Devon is often described as a problem boy. He always gets hit in the face and has a folder full of reports from the multiple fights he has gotten into.
However, it couldn't be further from the truth. But who could believe him? Af...
They headed towards the parking lot; Charlie helped with one of the suitcases, and they stopped in front of a police car. Devon almost laughed at the amusing situation. However, he had never been in a police car before.
"You better not get into trouble; I'm the town sheriff," Charlie joked.
This time, Devon couldn't hold back his laughter. "I'll try my best."
Both got into the patrol car. The journey was actually silent, but neither seemed uncomfortable. They weren't close yet, and the only thing they knew about each other was their names, but that was fine. They had plenty of time to learn more.
"I have a daughter your age," Charlie mentioned after an hour of silence. Though, neither of them appeared bothered by the extended silence.
Devon looked at him with interest. He wanted to talk to Charlie but couldn't find a suitable conversation topic.
"Really?"
"Yes, but she's currently living with her mother in Phoenix. She'll come to live with us in a few weeks. Her mother is getting remarried, and she apparently wants to give them some alone time."
Devon nodded in understanding. "That's great. I guess I won't be alone at school."
"Yeah, although Bella isn't really very expressive. But I really hope you get along. She has a bit of trouble making friends."
"I hope the same, Charlie," Devon smiled. "So her name is Bella?"
"Oh, yes. Sorry, I talk a lot about her that I almost forgot I hadn't mentioned it."
Devon let out a small laugh. "No, it's okay. And does she know about my mother?"
"Oh, yes. I've told her about her, although they haven't met or spoken directly."
They continued with a more relaxed conversation. Devon wanted to talk to Charlie, but he couldn't find any suitable conversation topics.
"I've been saving up for a motorcycle," Charlie casually commented while parking the car in front of the nice house.
Devon was surprised that Charlie knew that because he had only mentioned it to Margo. Perhaps Margo and his mother had stayed in touch; there was no other explanation.
"Uh... yeah. I really like motorcycles, and I worked all last summer, but I'm still missing at least a quarter to buy a decent one. Also, with the trouble that brought me to this place, I lost a big part of my savings."
Charlie looked at him and nodded after hearing him speak. "I hate motorcycles. They're dangerous, especially in Forks because the roads are very wet and slippery," he spoke seriously. "But your mother and I talked about it, and if you promise to be careful, we can chip in to help you buy a motorcycle."
Devon's eyes sparkled for a moment. The idea excited him a lot because he really wanted his motorcycle.
"Thank you so much, Charlie."
The man shook his head. "Thank your mother; she really wants things to work out between you two."
Both got out of the car, each carrying a suitcase to take inside the house. As soon as the door opened, Devon could smell a wonderful aroma of homemade food. He stood by the door for a moment, feeling nervousness flood his veins.
"You've arrived just in time; the food is ready," Amy emerged from the kitchen with a cloth in her hands but stopped when she saw her son. It was huge, and she felt very nostalgic. Since her ex-husband took him away, she hadn't seen him in person, just a few photos Margo had sent her, but not much more.
They stared at each other in silence, and Amy felt tears welling up, but finally, she took big steps and enveloped her son in her arms. Devon returned the hug gladly.
"All right, I'll show you to your room," Charlie entered and stopped when he saw the scene. "Oh, sorry."
"No, it's okay," the woman said. "Show him the room."
Both boys climbed the stairs.
"The bathroom is there," Charlie pointed. "That's my room, the one over there is Bella's, and here is yours."
Charlie opened the door. It was a fairly simple room with a single bed against the wall, a wardrobe that looked quite new, a desk with its chair, and a bedside table. There was also a window with a light white curtain. And nothing else.
Devon stepped in and placed his suitcase on the bed.
"We didn't know what color you liked, so we left the walls white, but you can paint them any color you like. Later, I can take you to the town to choose the paint you want and maybe some other bedspreads. I told your mother those green ones were horrible, but she didn't listen."
Devon let out a laugh. "Thanks, Charlie. I actually like it."
Charlie nodded. He didn't usually talk much, but he was nervous, and the words flowed non-stop.
"All right. Get settled and come down to eat whenever you want."
Charlie left the room, and Devon sat on the edge of the bed. Those green bedspreads were indeed horrible, but he didn't mind the white color of the walls at all.
He lay down on the bed and looked at the ceiling. What awaited him now at school? Would he get into trouble again for the same reasons? He really hoped things would change.
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