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I step out into the night, the light breeze now a fierce wind that takes my breath away when it hits me head-on. I duck my head down and run my hands over my bare arms, hoping to take the edge off.
“Hey, Ally. You look really pretty.”
I look up and see Devon in front of me on the sidewalk.
“Didn’t Audrey warn you I would be here?”
He gives me one of those half-smiles and runs his hands through his dark hair. It’s starting to look a little shaggy now, but still much shorter than I’m used to—just another reminder of how he’s not the same.
“Yeah, she did,” he says.
“Well, the good news is I’m leaving,” I tell him. “The bad news is I think she got tired of waiting on you and moved on to someone else.”
He shakes his head. “I just wanted to see you, Allyson.”
“Well, I can’t imagine why.”
“You said you’d do things differently if you could. Don’t make this hard again.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You miss me. I fucking miss you, too. Being there fucked me up, Ally. It fucked with my head, too. I know I’m not the same; I feel it all the time. The only time I don’t feel it is when I’m with you. I don’t want to be at this party. I want to go somewhere with you.”
I hesitate to reply. I look into his pale blue eyes, and all I want to do is go swimming, but that will make it harder to get on a bus tomorrow night.
“They’re showingHalloweenat the theatre. You love that movie. You said it was one of your mom’s favorites, and you watched it every year.”
“You remember that?” I ask.
“Of course I do. I remember everything you’ve ever said.” He pulls his hoodie over his head. “You’re freezing. Here—arms up.”
I hold up my arms, and he pulls the sweatshirt down over my head. Cedar and sandalwood, just like always. But no hint of the fabric softener I always associated with his and Darci’s home—that must have been all Lydia.
“Better?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah, that’s better.”
“Do you want to go with me?”
“Are you fucking with me?” I ask. “I mean, is this a game?”
He throws the same question back at me. “Areyoufucking withme?”
“No, Devon. I never—”
“You know what? I don’t care,” he says. “If this is just a game, then I want to keep playing. I don’t know how to do anything else.”
I smile. “Are you bored with everyone and everything again already?”
“Perpetually,” he says. “Come on, let’s go.” He hooks an arm around my waist. “I parked just down the block.”
We walk like that until we get to Devon’s car and climb inside. No music blares through the speakers at a decibel you can both feel and hear the way it always did before when he’d start his car. I buckle my seatbelt, then bring the collar of the sweatshirt over my nose and breathe it in again.
“Are you going to talk to me, or are you just going to look at me like I’m about to catch on fire?” he asks.
“I guess I didn’t realize that was what I was doing,” I tell him. “I think maybe I’m trying to reconcile the version of you I know and the one who drew that picture.”
“Ally—”
