I spotted Devin standing next to his car with his back turned. I ran over to him, trudging my school bag and science book.
"Hey Devin!"
"Give me a minute." he said, without turning around. I peered over his shoulder cautiously and spotted a girl standing there, facing him with an angry look on her face.
"Shit Melody, I swear! Nothing happened!"
"Tell that to the girl standing behind you."
"We're working on a science project!"
"Sure you are. You know what? Just forget it. We're over." she said, and stormed off.
I stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do or say. He stood there in silence for a moment before unlocking his car. I got in awkwardly and put my bag on the floor by my feet. We sat in silence during the entire car ride. I wanted to apologize but I didn't know how.
When we pulled in to his house I was astonished at the enormity of it. He lived in a gorgeous three-story house. Devin never struck me as the rich type but he clearly was. I guess money didn't go to his head like it did for most people.
We walked in and he led me up the stairs to his bedroom. His room was beautiful, neatly furnished but everything in it just breathed luxury. He sat on his bed and sighed, and I sat down in his swivel desk chair and spun around before finally speaking up.
"I'm sorry about Melody." I said, sadly.
He sighed before saying, "It's okay." He kicked off his shoes and layed back on his bed in thought.
"I just feel terrible." I said. "This dumb science project is ruining everything. Especially for you."
"Trust me, there are worse things than losing a girl who probably doesn't really love you anyway."
I shrugged and began spinning again in silent thought.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" he asked, sitting up.
"Yeah, sure." I said, stopping the chair.
"Were you upset when you broke up with Chris?"
I thought for a minute before answering. "Honestly, no. I know it's not really normal, but I realized he's such a player and he was just using me. There was no reason to be upset. But you're entitled to being upset, Devin. Any normal person would be."
"I guess I'm not normal then." he said with half a smile.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not really upset either. Obviously she wasn't the one for me." he said.
I didn't know what to say to that so I just spun around in his swivel chair some more.
"How about some dinner?" he asked me.
"Sure!"
We walked downstairs to the huge kitchen and he opened his fridge. He pulled out a bunch of ingredients and lay them out on the granite counter.
"What's all this?" I asked in disbelief. I didn't expect him to actually cook anything.
"I'm going to make us some nachos!" he said enthusiastically.
"You don't have to work so hard." I said, sitting down on a bar stool. "My mom usually cooks awful dinners or we order in. You could give me cereal and I'd be happy."
"I want to cook." he said, pulling out a frying pan.
I watched him pour a can of pinto beans into the pan and when they heated he mashed them with a bent-spatula looking thing. Then he poured a bag of tortilla chips on a plate and sprinkled them with shredded cheddar cheese. He put it in the microwave to melt the cheese and then put the warm refried beans on top. Then he cut an avocado to make guacamole and scooped that onto the chips and beans. After that he added sour cream and salsa and placed the huge plate in front of me, taking a seat next to me.
We both picked up a chip stuffed with the toppings and shoved it into our mouths.
"Wow!" I said, after swallowing. "This is amazing!"
"Thank you, thank you very much." he said in an Elvis voice, as he did a little bow.
I laughed and he flung a piece of a chip at me.
"Hey! No fair!" I said. I grabbed a chip off the plate and threw it at him. He caught it in his mouth.
"Surrender!" he said, throwing another chip at me.
"Never!" I yelled, laughing, ducking under the counter.
He sat back down and started stuffing his face with nachos.
"My plan to eat all the nachos is working!" he said in an evil voice.
"Nooo!" I said dramatically, getting up from behind the counter.
It turned into an eating contest. We stuffed our faces with the nachos until the plate was cleaned and then I helped him do the dishes.
"How about some ice cream?" he said jovially.
"Sure!" I said excitedly. I love ice cream.
He got out five different flavors and lined them up in front of me.
"It's so hard to decide! Uhm, I'll have cookies n' cream." I said with a smile.
"Alright, me too then."
We sat there eating our ice cream for a while before we heard a key turn in the lock. Devin's back stiffened and he stood up quickly. I turned around happily in my bar stool with a large spoon of ice cream in my mouth.
"Dad." Devin said curtly. Devin's father walked in, his tie was undone and his shaggy hair was a mess. "What are you doing here?" he asked, tensely.
"I live here. What are you doing here." he said icily.
"Dad, you're not supposed to be home now. Didn't you have somewhere to be?"
"Don't lecture me!" he barked.
"Hello Mr. Malone." I said pleasantly, slipping out of my bar stool and approaching him.
"Who are you?" he asked, angry. His breath smelled like alcohol and vomit.
"I'm Roberta Kingsly, a friend of Devin's." I said, extending my hand. He didn't take it.
"Your parents should go to hell for giving you such an atrocious name."
"Her name is perfect, and please don't treat my friend like that." Devin said, his tone getting increasingly icy.
"You'd do well, boy, to stop telling me what to do."
It only took a second. Devin's father threw me to the floor and leaped on top of Devin, punching him repeatedly.
"Stop!" I cried, tears stinging my eyes. I tried to get in the middle and break them up but this time it was Devin who gently pushed me out of the way. I had barely missed his father's fist. It came crashing into Devin's eye instead of my face.
"Please!" I yelled, "Leave him alone!"
Mr. Malone paused for a second, standing up to peer at me with hateful eyes. Devin stood up shakily and then ran, grabbing my arm and hauling me out the door. His father was close behind us.
"Get in!" he yelled, opening the car door. I could hardly see the door handle, the tears were blurring my vision so much. I fumbled with it and finally got the door open, throwing my bag in and sliding in.
He revved the engine and took off. After driving for a few minutes he looked at me and asked, "You okay?"
I wiped my eye and nodded. "Are you?"
"Yeah." he said, sighing. "It's...not unusual. I just thought he wasn't going to be home. I didn't want you to see that." he said, clutching the wheel tensely.
His eye was already starting to abuse, and I could only guess what his arms looked like under his shirt.
"When we get to my house I'll get you some ice for that." I said, shakily.
"Thanks."
"So.... where is your mom?" I asked.
"She's dead."
I gasped. "I'm so sorry, Devin! I didn't know!"
"Yeah, well. She died when I was nine. I came home one day and saw her hanging from...her bedroom ceiling."
I didn't know what to say. I tried to fight back the tears but one escaped my eye anyway.
"I guess my dad was just too much for her. You know, I've thought about it so many times, hanging you know? My mom did it to escape her misery, maybe it would work for me." he sighed. "But I never had the courage to do it."
"I don't know what to say. But I can tell you that people would miss you if you hang yourself. Don't do it, please."
"I'm not going to, but it's not like I make much of a difference to anyone's lives. You've seen what my father thinks of me."
"That's not true. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you--"
"Well, not to worry. I'm here. Beaten and bruised, but alive and well I suppose."
"You don't have to go back home tonight if you don't want to. We have a spare bedroom upstairs. You can stay there tonight if you want."
"I'd like that." he said with a smile.