Page 72 of He Hate Me

“Those may contain some of my memories, too.”

“No offense,” Brandon says, “but when you threw me and Mom out, I think you lost the right to say stuff like that.”

“Brandon,” my mother says, her eyes pleading for him to chill.

“Go to your room!”

Brandon rolls his eyes, “Without any bread?”

“You can take your dinner with you.”

“Do I have to stay in there? Deja’s supposed to help me with my math homework later.”

Devin’s eyes narrow. What is he thinking?

“That’s fine,” he says. “You can go to her room after dinner.”

I’m surprised he said my room. I would have thought they’d want to keep us apart, but then they don’t seem to suspect Brandon and I are more than friends. Is that because we did such an excellent job convincing them we dislike each other?

I help my mom load the dishwasher when we’re done eating, then go upstairs and rap on Brandon’s door. It’s ajar, so I poke my head in. He’s lying on his bed, reading a book I recognize from an English class I took last year.

“You ready?” I ask.

“Give me a sec.” He’s changed into sweatpants and a white t-shirt and looks sexy as hell. I try not to stare at his dick print. Sleeping, that thing is still impressive. He gathers the items he needs and follows me back to my room. He closes the door and I purse my lips.

“Is that smart?” I ask, clearing a spot on my desk for him to set his books down.

“Only if you don’t want us to be overheard every time one of them walks by.”

“Okay.”

Brandon has a big test coming up, so we spend about an hour reviewing the material and talking.

“Did you buy their story?”

“I don’t know. There’s got to be more to it than breaking some company policy.”

“I think so, too. That only explains why they’d lie to their coworkers, but why lie to you?”

“Not just me. They lied to everyone at church, all their mutual friends. It’s weird. Hold on, you need to find the cosine.”

“Do you think they were having an affair?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. If that’s what it is, I’m really disappointed in my mom. That would make her a complete hypocrite.”

“And banning us from the basement. You think there’s more stuff to find down there?”

“Like what? Evidence of a crime?” He says it in a spooky voice, and yet…No. They may be liars and phonies, but they’re not criminals. That would be crazy.

There’s a knock on the door and Devin sticks his head in.

“We’re heading to bed,” he says. “We have an early meeting in the morning. Don’t stay up too late and try to be quiet; we need a good night’s sleep.”

We make vague sounds of agreement, and he closes the door.

“Was that weird?”

“Yeah, that was a little weird.”