Again: A Young Adult Romance Read online

  “You mean the couple with the cute little boy who moved in the neighborhood the other day?”

  “Uh-huh. Found out the folks are from New York, even Devon―okay, just so you know the hot stuff is here,” she said in a low excited tone, “and he’s pretty much looking at you.”

  I glance sideways and realize that she is right. Devon sits alone with his lunch tray six tables away.

  “He was staring at you the whole time even during English class,” says Stef as I look back at her. “I think he likes you. Maybe you should go talk to him or something?”

  “I have a boyfriend, remember?”

  “Why don’t you let me help you forget that?”

  And I roll my eyes.

  ***

  After school, I go to The Mug and order an espresso. My first day of senior year is finally done. Funny that I thought I could get away with no homework. I sit at a small round table by the window and get my books out to do my Calculus homework. Given how bad I am at it, I struggle to solve a lot of the problems. Next, I do some assigned reading in English but while I’m at it, I happen to randomly gaze out through the window to find Devon looking at me from across the street.

  He’s dressed in the Westford High football jersey. I return my gaze to the book under my nose. After a while when I look up again, he is gone.

  I continue with my homework, Luke will surely be here anytime soon.

  I put the books back in my bag and wait for him. But there’s no sign of him. I order another espresso and finish it but still there’s no sign of Luke. I text him. There’s no reply. I call him the second time and he finally answers the phone.

  “I’m waiting for you here. Where are you?”

  “Oh, I totally spaced…” he trails off. “I’m going to this place with Greg...I won’t be able to make it, I’m so sorry, E.”

  I’m sure he’s on his way to a frat party or something.

  “It’s okay,” I say quietly. “I wasn’t feeling well anyway. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” And I hang up.

  I kind of knew already that Luke wouldn’t show up. Let’s just say I didn’t choose a very good day to display optimism. My bad that I thought he would want to spend time with me after ghosting me almost the entire summer. And now it just hurts.

  I gather my things and rise to my feet to leave when Meghan, a braided girl who works at the cafe, approaches me. She has an envelope clutched in her hand.

  “This has your name on it,” she says, extending the floral blue envelope to me. She’s right. I read my name scrawled on it in block letters. “Found it lying on the table in the corner,” Meghan adds, pointing to the far end of the cafe.

  I am curious. “Did you see who put it there?”

  “Nope. Nobody took that place since you came. Someone must have slipped it in through the window, I guess.”

  “Alright, thanks,” I say. Meghan nods and walks away.

  Puzzled, I open the envelope carefully. There’s a note stuck inside. I unfold the piece of paper to find a limerick scrawled on it in a writing that I don’t recognize. But as I read through it, my mouth forms an O.

  Roses are red,

  Violets are blue,

  The eggs hatched and away they flew,

  But, girl, you still look so hideous with that nose askew,

  Bet you got no clue!

  What the friggin’ hell?!

  Anger is all I can feel. I’m guessing it’s someone from school. If they think I’m gonna take this shit lying down, then they are so wrong. I’m gonna hunt down whoever wrote this and make them pay their balls out!

  But who could be the coward behind it?

  Who?

  Wait a minute…

  I don’t have to search for long as the answer comes at a pretty much lightning speed.

  Devon Parker.

  Yeah, it’s him. Like I just know it’s him. It’s gotta be him. Right? Okay, maybe I have to find out if it’s really him. I gotta find out.

  I put the note back in the envelope, shove it in my bag and stride out of the cafe with a foul look on my face.

  I was planning earlier on taking the alternate route back home since I didn’t want to pass by the riverside. But I’ve changed my mind now. I have questions and I sure as hell need answers. I mean, sure, there are bimbos in school who are jealous of Luke and me but I doubt very much they’d know what ‘hideous’ and ‘askew’ mean, let alone use those words in a limerick.

  The pathetic poet is a guy. Instincts never lie.

  It’s almost dusk by the time I make it to the riverside. There’s no one around except for the cool breeze meandering about. I ball my hands and march up to the old white trailer like a woman on a mission.

  “What do you think you’re doing??!” I demand, throwing the door of the trailer wide open.

  Turns out I didn’t make quite the entry I’d expected to. I see Devon working shirtless and surrounded with tools like last night. He has safety glasses over his eyes, as he worked with the electric screw driver. And the screechy noise of the drilling machine makes it impossible for him to hear me. So yeah, I think he’s pretty much unaware of my presence.

  I tear my eyes away from Devon and glance around. Come to think of it, I’ve never been inside here. The trailer’s in a pretty bad shape. There are holes and cracks and rust everywhere on the roof, the walls, and the floor. Both windows are broken too. The wiring and the lights are equally bad. After all, the place has been abandoned for years now.

  I’m not sure to what extent this place can be salvaged.

  On the other hand, Devon’s father has bought one of the most spacious houses around here in Crawford Lane. Mr. Matt, the real estate agent was very happy with the commission that he received for the sale. So, if Devon is taking pains to fix this rotten trailer rather than go live with his father, it’s gotta be some huge family issue.

  The noise from the screw driller meets an abrupt end and the trailer is drop dead silent. Devon takes his safety glasses off and the next thing I know, he looks sideways and his eyes meet with mine.

  His eyes are like a raging blue ball of fire emanating from the depths of turbulent deep white waters, if that makes any sense. It seemed unnatural for me to breathe, with such a sight before me.

  “What do you think you’re doing?!” I repeat in the same tone of voice.

  One of his perfect man eyebrows perks up, and he gives me a look of indifference. “Fixing the floor of my trailer so that when people, like you, barge in they don’t fall on their face?”

  I roll my eyes at the dripping sarcasm in his voice―

  Wait, wait, wait… stop.

  Is that even his voice?

  I try to keep my jaw from dropping. I have never heard someone sound so unbelievably deep and manly in my entire existence; it felt almost surreal.

  “If you think you’re being smart then let me break it to you that you’re so not,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

  Devon rises to his feet with a scoff and start walking towards me.

  Holy crap. That body again. Eleanor, breathe. And don’t look at his chest. No. Matter. What. Don’t you dare you gawk at his abs! Lust is one of the seven deadly sins, remember? Think of church.

  “’Course I’m not smart,” he speaks, coming to stop in front of me. “I’m Devon Parker. I’m way smarter than smart.”

  Wait, what?

  “Arrogant much?” I say dryly.

  “Too much,” he remarks with a roughish glint in his blue eyes.

  My eyes are hurting. For some reason he looks all the more attractive under dim lights. Ugh!

  I fix him a scowl before pulling out the dreadful envelope from my bag. “I’m talking about this,” I say, thrusting the note into his hands.

  Devon is startled. “What is this?” He unfolds the paper and goes through the contents. “I didn’t write this if that’s what you’re getting at,” he denies flatly.

  “You were there outside The Mug. I saw you.”

  “But th
at doesn’t make me the bitch behind this note,” he counters. “Maybe you made the whole thing up ‘cause your boyfriend stood you up and you needed a reason to come over and take your anger out on me. That’s ace, by the way.”

  My mouth thins into a line hearing that. “Just the words a guy with a blind passion to write nasty notes to shame girls would say.”

  “Is it your senior year resolution to stop making sense?” Devon drawls.

  How dare he?!

  I’m right about to fire at him but then my phone rings.

  It’s Josh.

  “Hey,” I speak into the phone as Devon looks on with a somewhat curious expression.

  “Did Thomas happen to ditch you?” Josh speaks from the other end.

  “Yeah…” I mumble, shifting with discomfort on my legs.

  “And did you happen to receive a dreadful anonymous note?”

  That catches me off guard. “Yeah, I did, but how do you know that?”

  Devon is now wholly interested in hearing me speak over the phone.

  “Stef dragged me to the salon ‘cause she wanted to get her nails done,” Josh grumbles. “And we happened to eavesdrop on a couple of spoilt freshmen girls from school.”

  “You mean a couple of freshmen girls are behind the note?!” I blurt out, stupefied.

  I realize it too late that I shouldn’t have said that aloud ‘cause Devon is flashing a smirk at me.

  “Right,” Josh said. “And Stef can’t wait to play her bitchy move on them.”

  I look away from Devon. “J-Just make sure she doesn’t go overboard with it,” I mutter.

  “Copy that.” Josh hangs up.

  I put down the phone

  Silence.

  I can’t look at Devon. Not when he just watched me make a complete fool of myself. I want to disappear like I was never here.

  “Roses are red, violets are blue.” I look back at Devon to see him reading from the note with a hint of ridicule in his voice. “The eggs hatched and away they flew,” he looks up at me as he adds, “But I’m still waiting for a heartfelt apology from you.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fine, I’m sorry,” I admit in defeat. “But you gotta stop doing that thing…” I add sharply.

  “What thing?”

  “That you did with your eyes in English class, at lunchtime, at the coffee shop? If you don’t stop doing that, then we’re gonna have a problem.”

  “The ‘I-can’t-stop-thinking-about-you-Devon’ kind of problem?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

  “No, the ‘I-will-punch-you-on-the-face-Devon’ kind of problem,” I say with a tight smile.

  Devon laughs in amusement. “About this note,” he says, tearing the piece of paper into shreds. “Funny that you think that I mean you harm when we’ve never met each other before and you don’t know me at all. I’m interested to know why.”

  A sly smile makes its way from the edges of his lips.

  “You’re crazy,” I say point-blank.

  “That we will see,” he says calmly. “But for now, leave,” he adds bluntly as though he just had the most boring conversation of his life. “I’ve to track my wiring kit on Amazon and change the lights at the back.”

  He shuts the door of the trailer. I can’t believe he kicked me out just like that! I hope Amazon delivers him something along the lines of ‘karma is a bitch you don’t wanna mess with.’

  Chapter Three

  “Don’t worry about school tomorrow, Dad,” I tell him over the phone, sitting by the window sill of my room that night. “I can deal with the time zone situation alright. Like I’d rather skip first period than skip talking to you. Ms. Thatcher will put the class to sleep anyway…Fine. I’ll pay attention in History class.”

  Glasgow’s quite a few hours ahead of New York. He asks how my day was.

  “Couldn’t have been better,” I say. “Gran, as always, invented a new recipe and gave it a weird name. It tasted weird too. Got to come up with something to stop her from making it ever again!” I laugh at a remark that he makes. “I know right. She’s a great cook but at times you seriously wish you were invisible to her.”

  He asks me to think of a souvenir that I would want from him.

  “I can’t really think of anything right now,” I tell him truthfully. “But when are you coming back, Dad? Can’t wait to play soccer with you!”

  “I’m never coming back, Eleanor.”

  A chill runs through my flesh hearing that. “W-What?? W-Why?!”

  “Because you’re better off alone.”

  “No.” My voice cracks in pain. “No, Dad, please don’t say that! Please-please come back…I-I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t leave me! What have I ever done?!”

  “You’ve done something terribly bad, Eleanor. Look at your hands and you will know why I want to give you up. Don’t call me ever again.”

  My heart stops when Dad hangs up. I look down and see my hands dripping with blood.

  My eyes dart wide open and I sit up in bed with a start in the dark room. It’s the middle of the night outside the window. My heart hammers violently in my chest driving me breathless to the tips of my toes.

  It was a nightmare. Get a grip, E. It was just a bad dream. Dad will never do that to you. You should just call him and talk to him and everything will be okay.

  I reach out for my phone on the nightstand but then I stop. No. I can’t call him, I just can’t. I-I can’t risk it.

  And, slowly, I pull my hand back.

  I know what I have to do. I wear my slippers, get off the bed, and trudge downstairs. On reaching the kitchen, I pull open the door of the freezer and grab the box of Ferrero Rocher and sit by the kitchen counter. I open the transparent rectangular box and toss one of the pieces into my mouth after unwrapping it. The heavenly flavor of hazelnut chocolate entices my taste buds the moment I bite into the crunchy shell and I feel my nerves soothing down at once. I eat some more of those spherical chocolates until I’ve calmed myself down completely.

  Now all I wanna do is sleep it off and wake tomorrow without puffy eyes.

  ***

  “Eleanor, sweetie, wake up, it’s morning.”

  I lift my head up and open my sleepy eyes to see Gran’s kind face looming over me. I take my time to adjust to the brightness around me. And it dawns upon me that I’m not in my room. This is not my bed. And the sunlight from the window is pretty much annoying.

  “You fell asleep here last night eating chocolates,” she says as I rub my eyes.

  That’s right. I find myself sitting on the stool by the kitchen counter with my Ferrero Rocher. “Yeah, seems like it.” I sigh.

  “Lots of them,” she adds, eyeing the half-empty box of chocolates.

  “I guess,” I mumble, running a hand over my face.

  Gran sighs. “You know if you’re missing him, why don’t you just call and talk to him? You can Skype the way they do on the Big Bang Theory.”

  “No, I-I don’t want to,” I say, disturbed by the very thought of calling my dad.

  “Eleanor, I don’t understand what’s happened to you over the summer.” Gran looks at me with a puzzled expression. “I’m telling you this again that you don’t have to do this to yourself. It’s irrational!”

  “I know, Gran. Whatever happened was pretty much unfortunate. But at times, I can’t help but feel guilty about it. I can’t help but hold myself responsible for Ma’s death,” I say, feeling downcast.

  “It’s not your fault, child.” Gran shakes her head.

  “It pains me so much to see him bury himself with work. I caught him looking at the stars at night. I know he tries to feel closer to Ma by doing so.” I suddenly feel a lump in my throat.

  I thought that my father had made peace with my mother’s death and had moved on with good memories of her but now I can clearly draw out the shadows of depression and heartbreak lurking behind his eyes and voice. I thought that Dad didn’t remarry or get into another relationship because he hadn’t found the right w
oman. But I found out that he didn’t even try―he’s alone because he chose to be alone. He hasn’t gotten over my mother’s death.

  “You don’t have to feel guilty about it, honey.”

  “Thanks, Gran.” I nod, forcing a small smile.

  She smiles at me fondly and goes off to make breakfast. I know Gran speaks in good faith but the whole ‘you don’t have to feel guilty’ thing somehow makes the guilt much worse. Because you just can’t tell your feelings to go away. I wish I could do that though, because I don’t want to feel sick with guilt all the time anymore.

  ***

  Luke wouldn’t admit but it’s pretty much obvious that he feels threatened by Devon’s presence. After all, it does take more of courage and less of ego to accept that you might not be as perfect as you think you are. I can’t really blame Luke for being insecure though. He has been the most popular and most desired guy all throughout high school. He’s been a straight-A student besides being great at football and in his other extracurricular activities. No other guy had ever been able to take his place. But now, Luke’s got a tough competition.

  I’m headed to my locker after class but I run into someone I don’t want to in the hallways. Let’s just say think of the devil, and the devil’s right in front of you.

  Devon.

  A sly smile curls up from the edges of his lips when he sees me. He’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt matching charcoal colored trousers, his bag slung over his shoulder. He looks perf―pathetic.

  “Hey, trespasser,” he drawls.

  I flip out the moment he opens his stupid mouth. “Don’t call me that!”

  “Okay.” He shrugs coolly. “Give me your name then?”

  “Eleanor Sanchez,” I respond tightly.

  “Fair enough.” He nods. “But, unfortunately, me knowing your name doesn’t change the fact that you’re a trespasser,” he adds nonchalantly.

  “I didn’t trespass and the trailer’s definitely not your property!” I retort, feeling incredulous.

  “I live in the trailer, and you didn’t even knock. That pretty much sums up to trespassing.”