Dead End Job (3 page)

“Let's not start that again,” I said.

“Oh, right. That's what got me in trouble in the first place,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“Okay, I won't look at your picture if you promise to tell me one thing.” He tried that cheesy smile on me again.

“Deal,” I said. “What?”

“Why are you using those crap pastels?” I tried to brush it off.

“I don't know,” I said, although, of course, I did know.

The truth is I was embarrassed to admit my boyfriend got them for me. I was embarrassed to admit I'd like a guy who didn't know the difference between a $2 box of pastels and a $50 box. It's terrible but true.

Devin said, “Why don't you use the ones I gave you? Your mother will thank me.”

“My mother? What are you talking about?”

He pointed at my arm. When I tried to hide the picture, the pastels had come off on my sleeve. My white shirt was covered with these gross smudges. My picture of the football team was even worse. It was just a bunch of burgundy and gold blotches on a green background now.

I handed him the picture. “Sure. You can look at it all you want.”

“Very interestink,” he said in a German accent. “I see the passion! I see the fire! Ooops. Sorry.” He turned the drawing around the other way. “I see I had it upside down!”

The expression on his face changed suddenly.

“Hey,” he said in his own voice. “You know all this needs to be really good?”

I shook my head.

“Do you mind?” he asked and took what was left of my black pastel.

“Go ahead,” I said. Who cared at this point?

He started drawing on my picture. He hunched his back so I couldn't see what he was doing.

After a while he said, “Yeah, this is better. Much better. What do you think?”

I looked at it and laughed. Devin had played connect-the-dots with all the burgundy football blobs and turned them into a picture of a big, black bunny with bloodshot eyes. The blue plaid splotch that had been Coach Isnor was now the bunny's tail.

“A definite improvement,” I said. “It's just missing one little detail.” I added bloody fangs.

“Wunderbar!” he said in his German accent again. “Together we will take the art world by storm!”

He handed me the picture. “Your signature please. It very much increases the picture's value on the international market.” I signed it in purple. He signed in red.

“I will keep it always,” he said with this dreamy look on his face.

It dawned on me that Kyla Swimm—my best friend and Lockeport's only other art nerd—might like him. He wasn't bad looking, and I could see her going for his weird sense of humor. I got it in my head that I should set them up.

Big mistake.

I told Kyla about Devin that afternoon. I didn't exactly lie, but I didn't tell her all the gory details either. No use mentioning that I thought Devin was weird the first time I met him. That would just make her feel like I was handing her my rejects. She didn't need to know about the pastels, either. I didn't want it getting back to Leo that other guys were buying me presents too.

I told her about Tom Orser and the recording deal and Devin's interest in art. Kyla stopped doodling and looked at me.

“How ugly is he?” she said. She'd been set up before. She was suspicious.

“Not ugly at all,” I answered.

“Well, I'm interested then,” she said. “Not ugly at all means he's cuter than 97 percent of the guys around here.”

My only problem now was going to be finding Devin. I didn't have a number for him. In fact, I didn't even know where he was staying.

It turned out I didn't have to track him down at all. I saw him the very next day.

I was at the town library, sprawled across one of the chairs, reading, when he came up behind me.

“Frances? Hey, what are you doing here?” He looked at my book and shook his head in amazement. “You're not going to believe this …” he said.

He was holding a scrap of paper. There was a file number written on it and a title for
a book called
Strange Houses: Odd Abodes Throughout the Ages
. It was the book I was sitting there reading.

“Wow. Great minds think alike, huh?” he said.

I smiled. I had to admit it seemed like a pretty weird coincidence. I'd never even heard of the book before. I just picked it up because it sounded interesting—and here he was actually looking for it.

“So are you going to hog it?” he asked. “Or can we share?”

I said, “Share, I guess.” Why not? I wouldn't have wanted Leo to see us together like that, poring over a book. It would have really bugged him. But since he never came into the library, I figured I didn't have to worry. I also needed a few minutes alone with Devin so I could bring up the Kyla thing.

Devin pulled a chair up beside mine and we flipped through the book. He seemed to know quite a bit about construction and architects and people who build weird houses. It was interesting. I like learning about new things.

I lost track of time. Suddenly it was almost five. I jumped up.

“Yikes!” I said. “I gotta go!”

He grabbed my arm. “Don't go yet! Stay until we get into the twentieth century at least.”

“I can't,” I said and shook his hand loose. “I've got to go to Leo's hockey tryouts.”

“That sounds like fun!” he said.

For a second I was worried he was going to ask if he could come with me.

“Just kidding,” he said and elbowed me. “Would you really rather sit in a freezing cold rink than a nice warm library?”

My answer of course was no, but I didn't say that.

I just said, “I don't have a choice. I promised.”

I threw my stuff in my knapsack and was about to take off. I had two minutes to make it to the rink, but I stopped anyway. I didn't want to miss the chance to do my matchmaker thing.

I turned around and said, “Hey, do you want to have lunch tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds great!”

I was going to tell him about Kyla, but I thought that might scare him off. In a weird way, he actually seemed kind of shy.

“Do you know where D'Eon's Diner is?” I asked.

“That greasy spoon out by the fish plant? I love that place. It's so 1962!”

“Great. See you there at 12:30 then.”

Devin was right. D'Eon's Diner is so 1962. I'm sure most of the décor—and all of the coleslaw—is at least that old. But Kyla and I love it. No one from the high school ever bothers to go that far for lunch, and the seafood chowder is actually pretty good.

Kyla and I got there at about 12:15 so we could get a good booth. I sat facing the door. The seat backs are so high that I had to keep sticking my head out in the aisle to watch for Devin.

Kyla was nervous.

“Do I look all right?” she said.

She was wearing her usual mismatched Thrift Shop clothes. She had this thing tied
around her head, but her hair still looked pretty wild. I mean that in a good way.

“You look fabulous, darling,” I said. “Why are you so worried?”

Kyla pulled at her curls so her hair wouldn't be flat on top.

“I don't know. This guy just sounds too good to be true. Rich. Artistic. Musical. Not ugly. When would I ever find another guy like that in Lockeport?”

I felt bad then. Maybe I should have been a little more honest about Devin. It wouldn't help Kyla's chances if she acted like he was too good for her.

I didn't have time to do anything about it. Devin walked in the door carrying a big plastic bag. I called him over. He had this huge smile on his face—until he slipped into the booth and saw Kyla.

He looked at her like she was a rotting corpse or something. He actually jumped back out of the booth.

This was bad.

I tried to laugh as if it was a joke and said, “Kyla, this is Devin.”

“Hi,” she said. “Nice to meet you.” I could tell by the look on her face that it wasn't nice at all.

“Hi,” he said. He didn't look at either of us. He held his package against his chest and kind of glanced around the room. He was all fidgety. He said, “Ah, sorry. Look. I just came in to say I can't stay. Sorry. Have a good lunch. See ya.” And he left.

I put this big smile on my face and turned back to Kyla.

“Well,” I said. “That didn't go so well now, did it?”

“No, it was great!” Kyla said. “I think we really hit it off!” She grabbed her purse and slid out of the booth. I could tell she was going to cry.

“Kyla …” I said.

She got up and looked at me as if she hated me. “Do me a favor,” she said. “Don't try setting me up again. Like, how desperate do you think I am?”

I tried to apologize, but she was really ranting by now. All the guys from the fish plant turned and stared.

“What were you thinking?” She practically spat at me. “Oh, I know. ‘He may be a psycho, but he's a
single
psycho. He'd be perfect for Kyla!' Thanks for your confidence in me, Frances.”

I couldn't stop her. She stormed out of the diner. She didn't even slow down to steal a handful of mints from the waitress station like she usually does.

Everyone went back to their meals. I sat in the booth and stared at the red leatherette seat. Kyla was right. What was I thinking? I should have gone with my first instinct. The one that told me Devin was not the type of guy to get mixed up with.

I headed back to school. I felt terrible. When I had a problem I could usually talk to Leo or Kyla about it. This time, I was clearly on my own.

I'd just turned onto Pleasant Point Road when I saw Devin barreling back toward me. He didn't look very happy.

“What was all that about?” he said.

“All what?” I said, although I really didn't want to know.

“What's the idea of bringing that girl to lunch with us?”

I didn't have an answer. Right then it didn't seem like such a great idea to admit I was setting him up. I sort of stood there, stunned, mumbling something about how good Deon's fish chowder is. He just carried right on.

“I don't know what got into you! We have a good time together. We hang out at the store. We hang out at the school. We hang out at the library. Things are going great. Then you ask me out—and I think, hey, we're finally getting somewhere. I arrive at our big date—and find out you've brought a friend!?! I don't get it!”

Is that what he thought? This was a date? I could have kicked myself. Why hadn't I just told him about Kyla in the first place?

“Look. I'm really sorry, Devin,” I said. “I didn't mean to lead you on. I thought you'd realize it was just …” I tried to find the right word “… a friendly invitation. I mean, you
know
I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, right!” he said. “Leo. He's your boyfriend? That guy you're scared of?”

“I'm not scared of him!” I said.

“You sure looked like you were the other night!” He was practically screaming at me.

“I just didn't want him seeing you there, that's all.” It sounded pretty lame.

“Oh yeah?” he said. “How come?”

“Well, I…I just didn't want Leo to get the wrong idea.”

Devin laughed. “The wrong idea? Like maybe there was a little something going on between us? Some mutual attraction, maybe?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“See, that's your problem, Frances. It wouldn't be giving Leo the wrong idea. It would be giving him the
right
idea. We
are
attracted to each other. You know it as well as I do.”

What could I say to that? I didn't want to crush the guy. I didn't want to tell him he didn't appeal to me. I didn't want to be mean.

I just said, “Devin, I'm sorry but it's not like that. I love Leo.”

“Oh, please!” he said. “You've got to stop kidding yourself. I don't know what type of
weird hold this guy has over you. You have nothing in common! You and I like to do the same things. We laugh at the same things. Hey, we even picked out exactly the same book! You and Leo? You can't even agree on what movie to see!”

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“I bet you really enjoyed watching
Alien Slugfest
. That's just your type of film, isn't it?”

I got a chill. That was the movie Leo and I had rented the night before.

“Were you following me?” I could barely get the words out.

“Excuse me?” Devin looked like I'd really insulted him. “I'm not allowed to rent a movie? I'm not allowed to go into the town's one and only video store just because you're there?”

“How come I didn't see you?” Lockeport Movie Stop isn't that big a place.

Devin shook his head as if I was being totally dense. “Frances!” he said. “I was doing you a favor! I hid so that Bam-Bam, your caveman boyfriend, wouldn't catch us
in the same room together! Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?”

I didn't answer. Things were getting out of hand. It seemed the more I said, the madder he got. The worst thing was that I could sort of see where he was coming from.

Sort of.

I made him hide from Leo. I hung out with him. I asked him for lunch. I didn't mean to, but maybe I was sending him mixed messages. Maybe he wasn't that crazy for thinking there was some hope there. I felt so bad for him.

“Devin,” I said, “you're a nice guy. You're funny. And you're smart. I'm glad to be your friend, but that's all I can be. There's more to Leo and me than you can see. I hope you understand.”

He looked away. There was this long silence.

Then he laughed and said, “Oh, I understand all right.” I couldn't tell if it was a mad laugh or a sad laugh.

I touched his arm. “No hard feelings?”

He said, “I've got nothing but good
feelings for you, Frances.” He handed me the plastic bag he was holding.