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“What thefuckis a midnight pixie, Devon?”
“It’s like Tinkerbell, but…from hell. In a hot way.” She turns away, but not before I catch her smiling. “You’re laughing.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You have to forgive me, Ally.”
She shakes her head. “You won’t forgive me.”
“I’m coming around to the idea,” I say honestly.
“Well, I don’t need you to,” she says.
I sigh,at a loss, and she goes back to work.
“I kept your hair,” I tell her.
“You’re joking.”
“No, I’m serious. It’s in my desk drawer at my mom’s house.”
“Well…throw it away, Devon.”
“No way; I need it. I’ve been practicing braiding. I’m going to make it into a necklace, wear it to school when I’m done.”
She laughs. “Devon…no.”
I climb down the ladder and sit on the floor next to her.
“Don’t be mad at me.”
“Why not? What’s going to happen if I’m not mad? You’re mad at me.”
“Yeah, I am. But…it’s us, Ally. What am I supposed to do?”
“Try to forget,” she says softly.
“Is that what you’re doing?” I ask. “Do you have any tips? Because it’s not fucking working out like I expected. How do I forget you?”
“I ruined your life,” she says. “I guess I know how to make an impression, but—”
“You left a mark, Ally. A deep one. You can’t blame me if it made me a little crazy.”
“Devon…”
I place a hand on her cheek, brushing her hair away from her face and behind her ear. “You said you missed me. I’m right here. When they came to get me, do you know what was the worst part of the whole thing?”
She shakes her head.
“It was knowing that whatever happened—if I got out the next day or not for months or years—when that happened, I wouldn’t have you anymore. It crushed me. Why couldn’t you have just trusted me?”
“Because I’m an ugly person. Inside and out.”
“Ally…”
“It’s past four thirty,” she tells me. “We can go now.”
I follow her out into the hallway. “Well, we have to clean up the paint!”
