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He attempts to grab me by my arm again, and I shake him off. “Let go of me!”
“Hey,” someone says from behind me. “Is everything okay?”
I turn toward the source of the voice and see a redheaded girl with a cast walking with another guy from our class.
“Yeah, everything is fine,” Devon says.
“No. It’s not,” I tell her.
“Hey, cool party, guys,” Tristan says. “I don’t normally have a good time at stuff like this, but if this is what I have to look forward to, I’ll see you at the next one.”
“God, would you shut up?” the girl says. “Can we give you a ride home?”
“We?”Tristan repeats.
She shoots him a glare.
“Yeah, fine, Mila. Whatever you want.”
“No, we’re good,” Devon tells them.
“We arenotgood,” I tell him. “A ride would be great.”
“It’s the Jeep,” Tristan says.
“Cool,” Devon says, shaking his head. “That’s cool. Hey Tristan, maybe I’ll give your girlfriend a ride sometime.”
“Oh, Devon.” He laughs as he opens the driver’s side door. “Yeah, okay. Hey, Mila? You want to go anywhere with Devon?”
“Uhh…no,” she says as she climbs into the passenger side.
“Sorry, Devon. Mila doesn’t like you, either. Nice try, though. Also, you have pink frosting in your hair—looks super douchey.”
He closes the door, and I look back at Devon one more time before getting into the back of the Jeep. He stays there, staring at me, as we back out and leave him alone in the parking lot. I lean against the cold window, trying to keep my tears from spilling over again.
The girl—Mila—turns around in her seat. “Are you okay?” she asks. “I’m new here; I don’t really know Devon, but he seems like an asshole. That drawing was fucked up.”
“He wasn’t always like that,” Tristan says.
She shoots him another glare.
“What? He wasn’t.”
“No, he’s right,” I tell her, drying my eyes. “He used to be…nice. It’s my fault.”
“It wasstillfucked up,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah…it was. Thanks.”
“Where do you live?” she asks.
“She lives in our neighborhood,” Tristan answers before I can. “I remember the news vans.”
“Tristan…Jesus.”
“What? It was a traffic issue. I can’t recall a traffic issue?” She rolls her eyes at him and turns back around. “You live on Cherry, right?” he asks.
“Yeah, but…can you drop me off at the bus stop on Cypress? I’m not really supposed to be in the car with…” With who? Guys? Strangers? Anyone, really. “…people.”
