Things Are Different - 5. Chapter 5

Children waiting for the day they feel good

Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday

And I feel the way that every child should

Sit and listen, sit and listen

Went to school and I was very nervous

No one knew me, no one knew me

Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson

Look right through me, look right through me.³

The dance tempo and sound of the original version of "Mad World" never felt right to me. When I heard Gary Jules' version in "Donny Darko" I knew he had got it right. In so many ways this song was my anthem. I went to school, not wanting anyone to know me. It was what I had always done. It was the way things were.

Now I went to school and it seemed like everyone knew me. It felt, just so wrong. It was wrong. Why couldn't I have just disappeared in to the background? Why couldn't I just be . . . rude to Devon . . . or to Scott, like I was back in Texas? Why did the lump in my gut get heavier when I thought of Scott?

And I find it kinda funny

I find it kinda sad

The dreams in which I'm dying

Are the best I've ever had³

Why don't I have dreams in which I'm dying?

These thoughts and others collided and spun around each other in my mind like the atoms in an out of control nuclear reactor as we drove the short distance home. I was so glad that my grandmother did not pepper me with questions. We just sat silently next to each other. I watched the buildings give way to the trees of Forest Park. There was the expectation that the trees would temper the heat of the day, but when we got out of the car you could smell the dryness in the woods, like a wildfire waiting to happen. It was nothing like the catch-in-your-throat summer heat of Texas, but the fecund aroma I encountered a few days ago was drying up.

I didn’t want her to think I was being rude, but I still wanted to avoid talking. When we got inside I took my books and settled on the sofa to study. Luckily, I think my grandmother was impressed with my diligence, even though that was simply a way to avoid conversation. I had used the guise of studying to avoid a lot of interaction in the past. It usually worked quite well. However, my thoughts were not on the pages before me, but instead were swimming through the mysterious depths of Midnight Eyes. There was something about him, more than his eyes, which was tripping a trigger in me. It was also something that I didn’t really want, not right now.

I honestly tried to lose myself in the homework, but I could not concentrate. I was gripped by a leaden lethargy that dragged me down to dark depths. The words and figures on the pages would not hold still before me. They blurred and I could not keep my eyes open no matter how hard I tried. It was a first day in a new school in a new place, so it made sense that I would be little tired. Closing my eyes for a minute would be a welcome respite. I leaned my head back and let the book fall open on my lap, almost instantly I was catapulted in to a deep sleep.

Sleep can be a blissful escape and it was often the only escape I had, even when I was sleeping on a dilapidated lounge chair by an empty pool with only an old towel to fend off a cool desert night. Most of my dreams are pretty boring. They consist of the ordinary but only slightly off; I always seem to know that they are a dream. It is strange, but I don't really remember ever having what you could call nightmares, some peculiar dreams, but nothing that woke me with a start. Never before . . .

I was driving Mr. Chang's car, which was only a little out of the ordinary because I had driven it a few times to get my license. What was really out of the ordinary was the fact that I was winding my way through the curving roads of Eastern Maui. This was the infamous Road to Hana and the even more treacherous side roads that hugged steep cliffs and traversed tropical jungle. There was no hazy dream quality to the surroundings, everything was sharp and real looking. The air was heavy and scented with jasmine, ginger and the rich perfume of other tropical flowers. The car was going faster than it should, but I felt like I had control.

A glance to my side showed Devon sitting in the passenger seat in bright white shorts and an aloha shirt of pink flowers. He held his arm out the window grasping at foliage that was only inches away and his smile beamed as he watched the scenery speed by. I was happy to see him there. The road demanded my attention and I turned back to the snake like path. A hand on my leg brought me back to the inside of the car as my cock instantly responded to the touch. When I looked over this time it wasn't Devon, but Scott sitting next to me. Those midnight eyes of his were watching me carefully and I couldn't help but smile. I smiled so hard I thought my face would break. That was not the only thing that was so hard that I thought it would break.

Scott said something, but I didn't hear it. I returned my eyes to the way ahead just in time to make a tricky turn. It almost felt as if the tires on one side of the car lifted off the road. I turned back to Scott to comment;"That was a close one," but Devon was back. He was now leaning his head out the window, almost like a dog and his shorts and shirt were gone. I had Devon naked in a car on Maui and he was even sporting a very impressive hardon. Embarrassed I jerked my attention back to driving.

There was a hand again on my leg, but I kept my attention on the road. Was the person with his hand on my leg Devon or Scott? As the car came up to a wide open curve with a sharp drop to the ocean on one side and steep jungle to the other I hazarded a glance beside me. Scott was watching me again, his hand gently caressing my thigh. His touch was not overtly sexual, but bespoke of an intimate familiarity. I broke in to a smile again. Scott leaned back and looked out the windshield, his hand lightly tracing unknown pictographs on my leg. I couldn't help but stare at him. His blond hair was longer, unstyled and he looked like the quintessential surfer.

Abruptly his hands flew up to the dashboard and his mouth opened. I didn't hear a scream, but I looked back to the road just in time to see someone in the road. Not just someone, but my mother standing in the middle of the road. My only reaction was to turn the car, which meant heading for the cliff.

Before the car even left the edge of the road is when I woke up. Even the horror of the last few seconds of the dream were not enough to diminish the effect of Scott's hand on my leg and the look in his eyes as he looked at me.

I woke with a start and a painful erection. It felt like it had been hours, but the sun drenched vista out the window meant it had perhaps only been minutes.

"Are you hungry?" My grandmother asked.

"Huh?" I normally wake quickly, but this time my brain seemed ensconced in a thick blanket of white cotton.

"Are . . . you . . . hungry?"

"Um, yeah. I guess."

She put a plate of cut up apple and cheese with a big glass of milk amongst my homework and sat down next to me. I watched as she grabbed some apple and cheese, sandwiching them together and took a small bite.

I moved my history book in my lap to hide the hardon that would not go away.

Following her example I tasted the apple and cheese combo. The cheese was a little pungent and tangy, perfectly balancing with the crisp sweetness of the apple. I couldn't believe something so simple tasted so good. I ate half of the plate before I paused to take a long swallow of milk and slightly embarrassed I said, "This is really good. Thanks."

Now that I was not chewing the awkward silence was obvious. I instantly became very self-conscious, beyond the erection I still hid and dipped my head a bit, letting my hair fall forward, obscuring my eyes from her.

"So, you had a good first day?" She asked tentatively.

"Yeah." I drew the word out, y e a a h h.

"Is that boy in your class?"

"Yeah. Three of them." Thinking about Midnight Eyes made my jeans even tighter in the crotch.

"You know . . ." she paused.

"What?"

"Crap. Shit. No wait. I'm sorry. Okay, Christ, let's start over." She was obviously very frustrated. I had yet to see her like this. She took another bite of cheese and washed it down with a gulp of my milk. I could only stare.

"I just want you to know that you can talk to me. I know this a tough time for you. I will give you your space and time to adjust in your own way, but I want you to know that I am here for you. No matter what." There was another pause in which you could count the heart beats; one, two, three, four and more . . . "I care and I want you to be happy."

"Why?" I could not believe that things that were coming out my mouth recently. What was I asking? Why do you care or why do you want me to happy? I don’t think I really knew. Maybe a little bit of both.

She stared blankly into an unseen distance, "Because I missed your mother. I missed her for so long. I was so sad when they contacted me about your mom, even though I thought I had given up and grieved for her years ago and let it all go. It wasn't real you know. It still doesn't feel real. But you -- you are real. You remind me so much of her and I don't want to lose you too."

I didn't know what to say.

"Too much, huh?" She asked wiping at the tears that threatened to overwhelm her eyes, took another bite of apple and cheese.

I took a swallow of milk to ease the tightness in my throat.

"This doesn't seem real. Coming here. You." I said, "I wonder when I am going to wake up." Images from my dream came unbidden to my mind. My erection would not subside.

"If it is a dream, I don't think we should wake up. I have always blamed myself for your mother running away and I can't say I see eye to eye with her sister. I just couldn't believe it when I saw you at the airport, I see so much of your mother in you, but I can tell you are very much your own person."

I was caught off guard and it took me more than a few moments to respond.

"Her sister?" The mood instantly changed.

"Oh my god, that's right, I don't suppose you would know that you have an aunt too."

"No, I didn't know." I didn't know I had any family beyond my mother.

"I am sure you will meet her and her family. They live in Colorado, but I expect they will visit for the holidays."

"Oh." I did not know what to say.

I almost jumped over the back of the sofa when I felt something move in my pants. It took me a second to realize that it was my phone vibrating. My heart was pounding like I had just run a marathon and my grandmother almost fell over laughing as I fumbled with my phone. My first thought was: Who the hell could be calling me? My next thought was: Oh yeah, crap, Scott. With that my attention returned to my crotch which no longer had its academic camouflage. It took a second longer for me to remember how to answer my phone. My first call on my first phone!

"Uh, hello?" Okay, how stupid did that sound?

"Hey, it's Scott." Damn, I was always trying not to get lost in his eyes that I didn't even notice he had a sexy voice too

"Hey, what's up?" I tried to sound nonchalant.

"I just got back from swimming and I was wondering if you asked your grandmother about going to Powell's after school?" I wondered what Scott looked like dripping wet.

"Not yet, one second." Damn, I thought, how can I get out of this now? She's right her, I can't pretend I asked her and lie. Then again, did I really want to get out of it?

"Um, Scott wants to know if I can go to Powell's with him after school tomorrow. I need to get some of the summer reading list I don't have.

"Of course. Do you want me to pick you up later or do you have a ride home?" She was clearing away the remains of our snack.

"Uh, do I need a ride home?" I asked Scott.

"Oh, I didn't think of that. Yeah, I'm not old enough to drive yet." So Scott wasn't sixteen yet, I thought to myself. I wonder when his birthday is?

"I guess I will need a ride." I wondered if she would do it or was this my chance to bow out without lying. At the same time I would be disappointed if she said no. My brain was tying itself in knots with indecision.

"Just give me a call when you are ready and I can pick you up. Just don't make it too late. It is a school night after all."

"My grandmother can pick me up when we are done."

"That's awesome. Soooo . . . I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Yeah, tomorrow."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Why did it feel like there should have been so much more to that conversation? My grandmother was giving me a look with an odd little smile.

"You are not going to have any trouble in English because you couldn't do the summer reading are you?" She asked.

"I don't think so. I mean I already read the book we are on right now; The Grass Harp. Besides, I read pretty fast." That reminded of my embarrassment in class. So, I remember what I read.

"Okay, but let me know if you need anything or have any trouble in school. I mean it."

"I know, I know. I will." I still wasn't sure how true her words, but I knew my own words were hollow. I have always kept secrets. Secrets I had decided I would always keep.

****

The next day proved to be another cloudless and hot day. I was really beginning to think that Devon was pulling my leg about the rain or that global warming had taken a hold of the region with a vengeance. I opted for a short sleeve plaid shirt, but kept the jeans. When I was let off at school I noticed nearly everyone was in shorts of some sort, including Scott and Devon. Both of them were standing by the entrance and Devon waved ecstatically when he saw me.

Devon was dressed the same as the day before except in a different flavor of sherbet. Like always he looked perfect. It was hard to believe he didn't captain any of the school teams. He seemed made for it, physically and mentally.

Scott was wearing loose cargo shorts and what looked like a short sleeve flannel shirt. His softly spiked blond hair was hidden under a non-descript ball cap. It was almost like he was trying to look less attractive. I could still jump into his eyes and fall forever.

Devon put his arm around my shoulder as soon as I walked up. I was tried not to flinch away, only being mildly successful. If he noticed, it didn't prompt him to release me.

"Hey buddy," he flashed that smile of his again.

"Hey," was my meek response.

"Hey," Scott seemed oddly reserved compared to the day before, even giving me one of my own from-the-waist signature waves.

I was not nearly as early today and the first bell rang right away.

"Damn, I gotta go. See you guys at lunch." Devon released me and sped off. I saw him bump fists or high five at least a couple jocks before disappearing.

"You have a nice evening?" Scott asked as we walked to our lockers.

"Yeah. Actually it was real nice." I replied thinking about the release I was able to give myself from the painful erection with which I had awoken from my nap. Scott played a pivotal role in that activity.

"Yeah, me too." He did not sound convincing.

First period went smoothly, though there was no chance that I could slip into anonymity. Whenever Mr. Dig could not get an answer out of anyone else he would call on me. I of course never volunteered the answer. I had no choice except to endure it. Each time he called on me I slouched lower in my chair and mumbled my reply as much as possible, until he told me to speak up for everyone to hear. I could see Scott silently chuckling to himself at my predicament.

Between classes his Vanessa once again made a quick appearance, giving him a quick peck before pivoting away. I wasn't sure, but I though she gave me a peculiar look as she looked back at me. She seemed a very strange girl to me, seeming to favor layers of black clothes even in a heat wave. She did have something I wanted though; she knew what Scott's lips felt like pressed against her own.

I was able to briefly entertain the thought of slipping away to some out of the way place to eat my lunch before Dani once again found me and led me to their usual table.

Scott was not yet there. I sat down next to Devon and before I knew it he had an arm around my shoulder and gave me a "Hey there dude."

I guess I was going to just have to get used to his demonstrative nature if I was going to be friends with Devon. That thought made me stop and look at Devon. Friends with Devon. His hand had slipped from my shoulder and he was in an animated discussion with someone else at the table, gesticulating with both hands. I was thinking of Devon as a friend. Not just Devon, but Dani and Scott too. When was the last time I thought of anyone as my friend? A slow panic started to creep up my spine.

"So, it's Jay right?"

"Huh?" I was pulled out of my reverie.

"Jay, right?" It was the freckled boy.

"Um, Yeah."

"I heard about that trick you pulled in English."

"Trick?"

"Yeah, quoting from that book, getting on the teacher's good side right off the bat. Slick move."

"Huh?" How did he know about that and did he have it wrong.

"Hey Scott over here!" I was saved by Dani's squeal as she stood up and waved at Scott. I was glad to see him, though he seemed reluctant to join us, slowly threading his way over to the table. Having Scott at the table would be more comfortable, even though we didn't really know each other or talk about anything outside of class.

"So where is Powell's?" I asked Scott when he sat down. I wanted to have a conversation with him rather than the freckled boy. It is not like I could sit amongst these people and read a book, though that would be my preference.

"You still want to go?" He asked.

"Well, yeah."

"It's just a short walk from here down on 10th and Burnside."

"You're going to Powell's?" Dani jumped in.

"Yeah, Scott is going to help me get some of the summer reading I missed."

"I love Powell's. I wish I could go, but I got this 'thing' after school today."

"Hey, I can go." Devon spoke up.

"Why would you want to go?" Dani gave Devon a skeptical look.

"They have coffee there too. I need my afternoon jolt." Looking to Scott first, then me he paused and asked, "Mind if I join you guys?"

"Hey, what about me?" Dani pouted to Devon.

"You said you had a 'thing'." Devon reminded her.

"You owe me then."

"Anything you want." Devon pulled a now giggling Dani into his lap.

"So, can I join you guys?"

"Yeah, sure." I replied glancing at Scott for his approval. It seemed a long time before he said "Okay" too.

Scott’s presence at the table made the lunch period go by faster or at least made me more comfortable. A part of my mind was wishing it wasn’t that way.

I waited for Scott out front at the end of the school day. It was only my second day of school, but it already felt as if a routine had been interrupted by not meeting my grandmother at the curb. Last year I would have sequestered myself in a corner of the library buried in a text book or more often living some hero’s more interesting life in any number of novels.

I yelped and nearly jumped out of skin when I was grabbed in a bear hug from behind. Somebody briefly lifted me off the ground and I kicked out in an uncoordinated fashion trying to fend off my attacker when I was suddenly released. If I hadn't spun around instead of just sprinting away I would not have seen Devon with one of the most unreadable expressions on his face I had ever seen.

"Whoa! Sorry dude, I didn't mean to scare you." He was holding his hands out in a helpless manner.

"Holy crap!" I breathed and tried to recover, "You didn't. You just startled me."

"Um, okay." I think it was the first time I had seen him without that toothpaste ad smile. "Where's Scott?"

"Don't know."

"Hey guys, ready?" Scott seemed a little more relaxed than he did earlier as he walked up adjusting his book bag. Again, I felt my own mood elevate a little.

Devon was my personal tour guide pointing out something about every building or business with Scott adding a little tidbit now and then as we walked the few blocks to Powell's. I was a little shocked at the panhandlers out front, but inside I was welcomed by that crackly dry aroma of an entire city block of books. The shelves were high and the carts were full. Powell's was not just books, but people excitedly perusing the shelves and purchasing piles of books. It was the greatest place I had ever been in. It was almost too much all at once.

"So, now what?" I asked seeking some guidance.

"Coffee." Devon responded.

"That sounds like a good idea. Then we can see what books you need . . . as well as the ones I didn't get around too." Scott said sheepishly.

"Okay." I just let myself be led around at this point. It was almost impossible for me to walk a straight line behind them. I was distracted by a book cover every few paces. This would be a great place to hide out I thought.

In one corner of the several buildings that makes up Powell's was a coffee shop with old library style tables full of people sipping out of cups and reading.

"I'll have a medium, non-fat latte with three shots and a little cinnamon on top." Devon ordered when we made it to the front of the line.

"I'll have the Guatemalan with lots of room please." Scott politely requested.

When it was my turn I didn't know what to do. When I drank coffee it came out of the pot at the Seven-Eleven. At this point I could honestly say I had never been in a Starbucks. They typically did not put them in the neighborhoods that I lived in.

"A medium coffee I guess."

"Do you want the Guatemalan, the Kenya Peaberry or the House Blend?"

"Uh . . ." I didn't want to look like an idiot, so I asked;"What do you recommend?"

"Well if you like a more earthy flavor I suggest the Guatemalan, for a nice bright coffee with low acidity the Kenyan, which is single source or get the house for nice balanced blend of smoky and fruity."

Was he talking about coffee? I always just poured it out of the pot and whatever came out I assumed was coffee.

"Um, the Kenyan I guess." Low acid sounded good.

Our coffees were delivered at the far end of the counter and I stared as Scott poured half a cup of cream followed by in equal amount of sugar into his coffee.

"Dude, like some coffee with your sugar?" Devon teased him.

"So I like it sweet." He defended himself. I sipped at my black coffee. It was a lot stronger than I was used to but the flavor was also a lot better, not bitter at all. Considering it cost three times what I was used to paying for coffee, I thought, it better be damn good. I had to admit it was good.

"Now there's a real man, drinking it black." Devon commented as he watched me sip my coffee.

"So says the jock with the non-fat latte." Scott quipped.

"With three shots!" Devon shot back.

“And cinnamon!” I added.

I couldn't believe how natural it felt to be around these too. It was as if we had been friends for longer than two days. I was enjoying myself, an odd sensation for me. I had never hung out like this with anyone before. Of course, it is hard to do that when you don't have any money.

Even though the space was crowded we found a table and Scott pulled out the reading list. It turned out I had read all of them except one.

"Well that makes it easy. I don't suppose you need to reread any of them." Scott said. "You know I think you are Mr. Dig's favorite student."

"It wasn't on purpose." It really wasn't and if I could, I would take back that first day.

"Yeah what was Keith saying about a trick you pulled in Mr. Dig's class?" I could feel my ears burn.

"No trick, Jay just quoted some long passage out of The Grass Harp." Scott explained.

"You memorized the book?" Devon asked.

"No, I just remember what I read."

"How many times did you read it?"

"Um . . . once."

"Wow. That must be great. You have to have like a photographic memory."

"I don't think so. I forget lots of stuff." Which was true. I was terrible with faces and names for example. There is also a lot of stuff I wish I could forget, but keeps creeping into my thoughts.

"Like what?"

"Like . . . I remember you, Scott, Dani and Vanessa, but I couldn't tell you the names of anybody else I met at lunch yesterday. Like that red headed guy.

"Keith." Devon said

"Huh?"

"His name is Keith. You might like him. He's kind of like you, another brainiac. His is on the chess team, the debate team and the soccer team."

"I'm not a brainiac!" I retorted, perhaps a little too harshly.

"Okay. I'm just saying he's a nice guy and maybe you have some stuff in common. Maybe you could join the debate or chess club or something."

"I don't think so." Why was I feeling angry?

"Drop it Devon." Scott interjected.

"Okay, okay. Gang up on me."

A silence engulfed the table and I glanced around to take my mind off that last exchange. My gaze alighted on two boys at a nearby table. There were a lot of young people around, but these two looked to be about our age and sat across from each other, books lying open on the table. What really caught my attention, aside from the fact that they were really attractive, was that their hands were touching across the table. Not just touching, but their fingers gently stroked the hand of the other in an obviously romantic manner. I couldn't help but stare. I was definitely not in Texas anymore.

My mind returned to the feel of Scott’s dream hand on my thigh tracing the letters of an unreadable language. The two were engrossed in whatever they were reading, but also acutely aware of the other. How could they risk being like that in public? What did it feel like not to care?

One of them glanced up and I hurriedly tore my eyes away. Did they see me staring?

I decided it was time to get moving. Coffee in hand I made Scott take me around to find my missing book. Devon tagged along, looking decidedly out of place in his sherbet shirt while most everyone else seemed to be dressed in plaid, cut-off cargo pants or bike gear. Scott really fit in. As we perused the shelves I could not help myself from searching for the couple I saw earlier. I don't know if it was out fear that they saw me staring or just my hoping to catch a glimpse of them again. They seemed so happy and comfortable. Unfortunately or fortunately I did not see them again.

"Is your grandmother going to give you a ride home?" Scott asked as we stood in line. I had picked up the missing book, as well as a couple others that I could not pass up. Scott Also had a small stack. Devon held his now empty coffee cup.

"Yeah, I just have to give her a call."

"You don't have to do that. I can give you a ride home. My car is at the school." Devon offered.

"You don't have to do that."

"It's no problem. Just call your grandmother and let her know."

"You really don't have to do that." I felt I had to object, but it was nice to think that I would not have to rely on her for everything.

"But I'm going to give you a ride home anyway. Call your grandmother." I finally relented and called her, asking her if Devon could give me a ride home. It was easier than arguing with him.

It was not until we were outside and Scott took off in one direction with only a casual “see you tomorrow,” while we went back to the school to get Devon's car that I realized that Devon did not extend the offer of a ride to Scott. I felt bad that I did not say anything earlier, but it seemed too late now. Scott seemed so much more subdued today; it made me wonder if something was bothering him or if it was me.

I had to really concentrate on giving Devon turn by turn directions to my grandmother's house, because I had only taken the route a few times and that was as a passenger. It was just starting to get dark as we pulled up to the garage.

"This is your house?" Devon asked eyeing the garage.

"It's my grandmother's house. Well, the garage anyway. The house is kind of hidden."

"Oh."

I didn't know what to do at this point.

"Thanks for the ride."

"Sure, no problem."

"Do you want to stop in? I'm sure my grandmother wouldn't mind." What else was I suppose to do? It almost felt like I should have kissed him goodnight like date if I just got out of the car. Is that weird?

"Sure. This is an expensive neighborhood. I bet it's a sick house."

I led him through the gate and across the catwalk. He just kept saying "wow!" as he looked over the edge.

Inside he exclaimed "Holy cr . . . cow!" quickly correcting himself when he saw my grandmother.

"Hi there to you too Devon." she said to him.

"Um, good evening Dr. Westwood." My grandmother and I both looked at him. Why did he call her doctor? She wasn't a doctor too, was she? I slowly realized she had been a professor and she must have a PhD.

"Now why would you call me doctor, Devon?" She stared Devon down, but not in a really malicious manner.

"Um, oops. Sorry." Devon looked positively cowed. "I, uh, Googled you after we met the other day. I thought you were familiar."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, um . . ." he almost stuttered. "My dad is Jack Bragovich." He was looking at his shoes when he said this.

"Oh!" She gave a slight exclamation.

"But, I'm not like him at all," he paused, "At least not when I don't have be when I am around him." This was a very different Devon from the exuberant guy I had so far experienced. He barely looked up from his shoes.

"I would never judge someone solely based on their parents. You are welcome here. I wouldn't even turn your father away . . . right away." She smiled when she said this.

"Thanks." and the outgoing Devon returned. I was completely confused.

I think my grandmother took pity on me seeing the utter bewilderment on my face. "I'm sorry Jayson. Devon's father and I have a difference of opinion on . . . well everything. Jack is, shall we say, a little conservative." Devon gave a snort at that, "We, your grandfather and I, used to be very involved in local politics and we were always on the opposite sides of some very public arguments with Devon's father."

"My dad is a lawyer and he has been involved in some notable local cases. His conservative views and those of his clients are not very popular in these parts." Devon added.

"Oh." was all I could say.

"Anyway, thanks for bringing Jayson home. Would you like to stay for something to eat?"

"Thanks, but I should really be getting home."

"Are you sure? You are welcome here anytime." She said.

“Yeah, my parents are expecting me home.” He reiterated then turned to me to say; “I had a great time today.”

"Yeah, Powell’s is great. Thanks for the ride and I will see you at school tomorrow." The funny thing was I expected one of his one armed hugs at least, but he didn't do it. He just left. He didn't even give my grandmother his patented handshake.

It ended up being a weird day. I guess I don't know either Devon or Scott that well. Neither one of them ended up acting exactly as I would have expected in some way.

³Mad World,1983, Roland Orzabel, Chysalis Music Group