The Weight of the World Read online

  Nick stopped at the fence to the fair grounds and looked back at Valerie. Through the flashing lights, the scents of funnel cake, and 60s beach rock, Valerie looked serious. Good. She had unwittingly challenged him to seduce girls with standards. Surely she’d agree that her female members qualified. Nick was going to have fun with this.

  “One may define flattery as a base companionship which is most advantageous to the flatterer.”

  -Theophrastus

  iv.

  Wild Eris tossed a golden apple skyward

  as a ploy to create a rift between them.

  The gods saw the inscription as the apple

  paused at the zenith.

  The neatly-carved words were a dedication

  too vague for the assembly of pompous gods.

  It read “to the fairest” and each goddess thought

  that it should be hers.

  So Zeus, not wanting to incur Hera's wrath

  left this decision to an impartial judge.

  The most handsome mortal on earth was chosen.

  His name was Paris.

  Hera, as a bribe, offered Paris a throne.

  For Athena's bribe it was prowess in war.

  But Aphrodite outbid both her rivals

  by promising love.

  “To be loved is something.”

  -Greek Proverb

  IV.

  Evan Fuller was sitting at home on Sunday afternoon, sorting legitimate emails from spam in his inbox. Evan was part of a number of tech forums and LISTSERVS that kept his inbox full. He had posted a video from a test drive of the Night Prowler on Youtube that morning and was really hoping to see comment notifications. There were a few comments already. One claimed it was fake, a bunch more were one-word replies, a string of comments had started a completely unrelated political debate on the video’s page, and one was a link to win a free iPad.

  Evan was just about to sign off when he habitually clicked the home button to return to Facebook. One of his acquaintances from school has posted a link on her wall. The thumbnail of the page showed a shocking pink background with lots of tiny text and pictures. Evan would have clicked away, but the description of the link caught his eyes. It was a name that kept his attention. Devon Valentine.

  Evan clicked the link.

  Discordia was the header, written in embossed gold script with an icon of a likewise embossed apple next to it. “Starting the Discussion about Olympia Heights Senior High.” Some horrible troll had started a gossip blog about their school.

  The latest post on the blog was at the top and featured a photo of Devon Valentine from the school site, leading the cheer at an Olympia Heights Senior High football game last year.

  Devon Valentine Expecting?

  Word is spreading fast that Devon Valentine, captain of the OHSH cheer squad, won’t be fitting into her green and gold this fall. Valentine has found herself with a bun in the oven. Who the father is could be a tricky question to answer. Though Devon has been seen frequently draped over the arm of Olympia Thunder Center, Frank Guerrero, her past exploits and witnessed flirtations shed doubt on the paternity.

  The plot of this Knocked-Up tale thickens with reports that a college-aged stranger is frequenting the Valentine house and was seen at the fair last week with Devon.

  Frank, prime suspect number one, transferred to Olympia Heights Senior High after he allegedly killed a man. Let’s hope he’s the daddy, or there may be more blood on his hands.

  Only one question remains, now. Who is surprised it took this long to happen?

  Evan grabbed his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He dialed Devon, relieved when she picked up. “Hey... uh, it’s me. Evan.”

  “Hey Evan.” Devon sounded genuinely pleased to hear from him. He figured she must have been very lonely, being grounded. “What’s up?”

  “I really hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he began, “but you may want to see this site that someone started.” He scrolled past the entry about Devon. There were a couple entries about who spotted who sucking face at the fair, but Devon’s story was definitely the biggest news. “I’ll PM it to you on Facebook.”

  “Someone didn’t get busted using their powers, did they?” Evan could hear Devon moving around the room. He heard her hunt-and-peck type on her computer and then it was quiet. Devon didn’t speak for two whole minutes.

  “Devon?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Did you get the link?”

  “I’m going to kill someone.”

  “How many people did you tell?” he asked.

  “You, Frank, my parents, Livingstone, Dr. Davis knows... someone must have heard me.”

  “Do you think Frank told anyone?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him since I told him.”

  Evan picked up a metal puzzle from the set he kept on his desk and started fidgeting with it. “I’m sorry. I promise you that I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “I know you didn’t, Evan.”

  “Does that mean you and Frank broke up?” he asked. “I mean, if he’s not talking to you?”

  “We never really had a define-the-relationship. So I guess he’s free to do what he wants. I’d really like to know who this is.”

  “I could get one of my tech buddies to see if they can find the IP it’s posted from?”

  Devon was quiet again. Evan got the puzzle apart and then started trying to hook it back together. “So you’re completely grounded, huh? Like, can’t go anywhere except to bring that Adam guy places?”

  “Yeah. My Dad’s convinced that if I see Frank I’ll get double pregnant or something.”

  Evan snorted. “Well, Frank is a scary guy. Not like me. I’m harmless. I don’t think anyone’s Dad is afraid of me.”

  “Hey, Evan.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you want to go out with me?”

  Evan wasn’t sure what happened, but suddenly the metal puzzle melted into liquid and landed on the carpet between his feet. The rug caught fire and he cursed as he stomped it out with his boots.

  “Evan?”

  “I just... Devon I just melted metal!” He had been so shocked by Devon’s question that he hadn’t been aware of what he was doing, but there was no other explanation for why a piece of aluminum would spontaneously melt.

  “Melted metal? That’s crazy!”

  “We’re Greek gods, Devon. I don’t think you can limit us.”

  “Woah, god of the forge, huh?”

  “I gotta go to my garage to test this out.”

  “Evan,” Devon said in a firm tone, “You gonna answer my question?”

  Evan had almost forgotten about her shocking proposition. She had asked him out. “Uh, oh, um... you want to go out with me?”

  “Yeah. I mean, if you don’t mind the whole pregnant girl thing. I can’t wait on Frank forever and you’ve been really sweet.”

  Evan’s instincts told him that this wasn’t right. Girls like Devon didn’t spontaneously ask guys like him out. It was too good to be true.

  “So do you want to?”

  “Uh, yeah. I mean, who wouldn’t?”

  “Good. Come get me tomorrow night at seven?”

  “I thought you were grounded.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Go have fun playing with your scrap metal.” She hung up.

  Evan stared at the screen on his phone to make sure she had really disconnected. When the call time flashed finished, he put the phone down. Weird. Why did Devon Valentine want to go out with him? Did she think he was the best she could do now that everyone knew she was pregnant?

  Evan headed down to the garage. He cranked up AC/DC on his workbench radio and grabbed a tin can from the recycling bin. He decided that there was no point in overanalyzing his date with Devon. He wasn’t going to figure it out, so he decided to drown out the thoughts with a new project. He had until seven tomorrow to figure out how to melt metal again.

  Evan had not only figured out how t
o melt metal again, he worked on fine tune control all day. By the time he had to shower and get dressed for his date on Monday night, Evan had cut and melted together scraps of soda cans to make a metal rose for Devon. He hadn’t needed a single soldering iron and he even took the time to melt the edges to make sure that they were dull.

  He arrived on Devon’s Door with the aluminum rose in hand. He wasn’t sure how to dress or if she had plans, so he had settled on a new pair of jeans and a collared, short-sleeved shirt and made plans but no reservations.

  Mr. Valentine opened the door. He looked down at Evan and past him to the bike propped up against the picket fence. A small smile slithered onto his lips. “You’re here for Devon?”

  “Yes, sir,” Evan said. His voice was caught, tense, in his throat.

  “Okay then.” He turned over his shoulder and bellowed up the stairs, “Devon, there’s a boy here.”

  Devon appeared at the top of the stairs in a pair of skinny jeans and red heals. She had red fitted t-shirt on with a white half-jacket over it. He had seen her wear the shirt, complete with plunging v-neck, to school before. He wondered if she usually got out of the house in it because she put that jacket on until she was out the door.

  “What movie are we seeing?” she asked as she grabbed her purse from a hook by the door.

  “Uh, I thought I’d let you pick,” Evan said. She looked amazing. Her long blonde hair was let down and brushed out. She had a hint of sparkle on her lips and eyes. Evan was glad he’d worn jeans. “Oh, this is for you,” he said, remembering his gift.

  The stem had been fashioned from green ginger ale cans and the red petals still showed the remains of a Coca Cola logo. Devon took the rose and twirled it in her hand. “This is cool. Where did you find it?”

  “Made it,” he said.

  Devon kissed her father on the cheek and pushed Evan out onto the doorstep. She closed the door and looked, disappointed, when she saw his bike.

  “We’re taking my car,” she said, digging through her purse and extracting her keys.

  Evan got into the passenger seat of the little car. The top was up on the convertible beamer. He buckled himself in and wiped his sweaty palms on the knees of his jeans. Devon checked her lip gloss in the mirror and took off her half-jacket.

  “If I’m driving, you’re paying,” she said.

  “Of course,” Evan replied.

  Devon started the car. She had a custom sound system and when the engine roared to life, the speakers started blasting high energy Euro-Pop. The squeaky, breathy singer belted a tune about dancing until the world ended. Occasionally a man who sounded like he dubbed trailers for action movies would interject a rhyming catch phrase.

  Devon pulled out of the driveway. When she was certain that her car could not be seen from the windows of her house, she punched the gas pedal. Evan held on tight. When they pulled up to the Cinema Planet, he felt like he could breathe again.

  They eventually decided to see a romantic movie based on some best-selling novel. There was a lot of PG13 sex and someone died at the end. Devon spent most of the hour and twenty-six minutes crying. Evan just liked the steamy parts; he was a sixteen year-old boy, after all.

  When the movie ended they went to get Italian food. Evan was glad his dad had given him some money because Devon had an appetizer and a dessert.

  It started to rain on their drive home from the restaurant. By the time they were in his development it had turned into a torrential downpour. The rain was beating so hard on the windshield that the wipers couldn’t brush away the water fast enough to see. The sound blended into a thunderous hum.

  “Screw it,” Devon muttered as she pulled over. “I can’t see a thing.”

  “What’s with all this rain?” Evan said. He turned off her radio (he could barely hear it anyway) and listened to the rain hitting the canvas roof of the car. “The weather said sunny and eighty-five.”

  “The weather was wrong.” She brushed her hair back and looked at Evan. “Thanks for helping me get out and do something.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Evan said. Just being seen in public with someone as gorgeous as Devon was reward enough to Evan.

  They fell quiet. Evan tried to look out the window. “That rose,” he said, “I didn’t use glue or solder or anything. I melted it with my hands.”

  “Show me.” Devon started digging in the center console for change. She gave him a handful of pennies. Evan had been playing with this for hours and he was pretty good at it now. He pressed the stack of coins between his palms. They slowly melted and flattened into a disc. He had done it too fast in his bedroom when Devon had called. Now he could take it slow and steady.

  Devon watched quietly while he worked. His method was very careful and logical. When he was done he handed her a spiral made of melted down copper and nickel.

  “Here,” he said. “That one’s not very good. I think melting those was technically illegal.”

  “It’s beautiful, Evan.”

  He chewed on the inside of his lip. “I’m sorry some catty girl posted that blog about you.”

  “How do you know it’s a girl?”

  Evan suppressed a laugh. “I-- well-- guys don’t usually care about gossip.”

  Devon frowned, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She shifted in her seat. The rain filled the silence. “They act like it’s a game. I’m pregnant.”

  “I know.”

  “It isn’t just who Zach cheated on June with or who Nick is chasing this week. It’s a baby.” Evan couldn’t tell for sure in the glow of the dashboard light, but he was pretty sure that Devon was crying now.

  “Devon, if--”

  She didn’t give him a chance to say anything. She kissed him. Evan’s mind was blank. He was five the last time he’d kissed a girl. This was far superior to that peck in his mother’s rosebushes from the next-door-neighbor.

  Devon’s fingers curled around the collar of his shirt. She pulled him closer. Tastes of ancient memories flickered in his brain. He remembered little details like the way silk draped across her back or the scent of her hair with flowers in it.

  She, Devon Valentine, Aphrodite, was his gift from Zeus. She was the greatest gift any man or god had ever received.

  Devon pulled away. Her lips were more pink and tempting now, swollen from the intense kiss. Evan couldn’t think about anything but those lips. They were perfect, soft and plump. The lower lip looked like a rose petal.

  She’d stopped crying. Hormones were funny like that. “Make love to me,” she whispered.

  Evan knew that was a bad idea. He opened his mouth to tell her so, but she kissed him again. It felt like his mind was being occupied by two people. Evan, the responsible Boy Scout, was shouting No! She’s hormonal. This is a bad idea. This is your first date. Evan, the boy who had just been kissed by a Goddess, tugged her t-shirt up over her head.

  Devon climbed over the center console and pushed Evan back until his head bumped the window. This was going way too fast for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to object as she unbuttoned his collar. She was surprised to find that, hidden under long sleeves, Evan's arms were cut. She assumed it was from swinging a hammer every second of his free time. The definition carried into his shoulders and neck and ended there. The rest of Evan's torso was as pale and shapeless as Devon would have guessed.

  Her fingers touched the small round scars all over his arm. They were marks from old cigarette burns. She didn’t ask questions, though she noted with sadness that he had many more than Frank.

  Evan was inexperienced and awkward. He had terrible stamina. Devon might have been more disappointed if she didn’t think it was cute. The complications of passion in the confines of a car covered for his inadequacies. The low ceiling, the protruding stick shift, and the glove box that wouldn't stay closed made the overall experience mutually difficult.

  From first kiss to first sexual experience, it was a lot for Evan to process in one night.

  The hammering of rai
n on the roof of the car persisted.

  “We-- we probably shouldn’t have done that,” Evan said as he fastened his pants.

  “It’s okay. I can’t get pregnant again.”

  “That’s not really the point,” he mumbled. “This is our first date. It’s all really fast.”

  “Then why didn’t you stop me?” Devon sounded hurt. Evan was worried that she’d cry again. She started dressing herself quickly.

  “I-- I don’t know. You kissed me so I just did what you told me to.”

  Devon slid back into her seat and put the car in drive. The rain had slowed just enough to move again.

  “It’s okay,” Evan said, trying to reassure her. “I liked it.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “I mean it,” Evan said. He buttoned his shirt back up. “It was great. I mean... you were...” Evan wasn’t sure there were words to describe how amazing and beautiful she was.

  Devon smirked just a little.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t very good,” he added.

  “We can work on it,” she said, pulling up to his driveway. “It’s too wet. I’ll bring you your bike tomorrow.”

  Evan nodded and fumbled with the door handle. “Okay. Well... bye.” He slipped on the slick grass outside the car and stumbled. “I’m okay,” he stuttered. “Bye.”

  Evan closed the door and watched Devon pull away. Not even her flirtiest smile could relieve the discomfort in the pit of his stomach. Evan stood in the rain. His thoughts went to a recent dream. Frank. She was having Frank’s baby. Did he really want to let himself fall in love with her?

  “We cannot learn without pain.”