Chapter 9 #4
Shame rose. “Yes.”
“Write those words down.”
He was making notes on what his mom called a legal pad because it had lines on the paper that would help him write straight. He wrote down the two words.
“You need one more word.”
“Why?”
“Because three words are best.”
He didn’t understand why, but knew better than to argue. Plus, he really needed her help with this to keep from being on punishment for the rest of his life.
She asked, “How did you being rude and disrespectful make Zoey feel?”
“Mad.”
“Why?”
He thought back, and his shame increased. “I hurt her feelings.”
“Exactly, so write down hurtful.”
He did.
“You have your three words: rude, disrespectful, hurtful.”
The truth made him feel bad all over again.
“Last things. What do you want the letter to accomplish, and what expectations do you have for yourself for the future?”
After all he’d been through, that question was easy to answer. “I want everybody to forgive me,” he replied sincerely. “OG said I need to do better, so I guess that’s what I want, too, because I never want to do this again, Mom. Ever.”
“That’s a great goal, Dev.”
He was glad she agreed. “Do the letters have to be long?”
“No. Three, maybe four sentences, and you can use the same words for them all if you want.”
“Okay, good.”
She explained how to write the salutation, before adding, “And you end the letters by writing Yours Truly or Sincerely at the bottom and then sign your name. Let me see your rough draft before you write them out to make sure everything’s okay. Any questions?”
“I don’t think so.”
“If anything comes up, let me know.”
“Okay. Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re very welcome.
Devon went back to his room. He wasn’t looking forward to all the work the letters required but knew it would be worth it if his friends would talk to him again.
He took a seat, sat at his desk, and thought about what he wanted to write and the best way to say it.
He wrote a few lines but didn’t like them, so he crossed them out.
After a few more starts and stops, he took his rough draft to his mom to get her opinion.
She was in the living room watching baseball with his dad.
“This is perfect, Devon,” she said, and handed what he’d written to his dad, who looked it over.
“Good job, son.”
Devon was relieved.
His dad added, “I know you want to hurry and finish the letters, but pace yourself. You’re not used to writing by hand for long periods of time, so if your wrist and fingers start to get sore, stop. You don’t want to get to the point where you can’t write at all. Okay?”
He hadn’t thought about that. “Okay.”
Grateful for their blessings, he left them to the game and returned to his room to begin.
Devon spent the next few days after school writing his letters.
He also made peace with the fact that the mess he’d made of his friendships was entirely his fault, no one else’s.
He thought back to his talk with Reverend Paula and her saying that acknowledging your mistakes was a good thing.
He wasn’t sure her take meant anything to anyone other than him, however.
Each day at lunch he wanted to apologize to his crew and ask if they’d ever speak to him again but was too scared to do so because of how they might respond.
So, rather than torture himself with wanting to make amends while his friends continued to act as if he were one of OG’s favorite cartoon characters, Casper the Friendly Ghost, Devon made a decision.
Seeing the new kid, ten-year-old Ellis Keene, sitting alone in the cafeteria, he decided to have lunch with him, instead. “Can I eat lunch with you, Ellis?”
Ellis’s eyes brightened, and a grin spread across his face. “Sure!”
He seemed so excited, Devon couldn’t help smiling as he took a seat. Removing his lunch from his backpack, he asked, “Why are you over here by yourself?”
Elli shrugged. “I’m the new kid. Nobody wants to sit with the new kid.”
Devon felt bad. He’d been so focused on his friends both before and after the Zoey mess that he’d never noticed Ellis sitting alone. “Sorry for not noticing before now.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it because I’m aways the new kid.”
Devon stuck the straw into his juice box. “What do you mean?”
“My mom and I move a lot. This is the third school I’ve been in since September.”
“Why do you move so much?”
“She can’t find a job she likes. Sometimes it’s the hours she has to work. Sometimes she doesn’t get paid enough money. Sometimes the people she works with get on her nerves.”
Devon thought back on how mad she’d made his own mom at the audition. “That has to be hard on you.”
He shrugged. “I’m used to that, too, I guess. I like this school, but I’ve learned not to make friends because Mom and I usually don’t stick around very long.”
Devon felt sorry for him. “Maybe she’ll like Henry Adams and you’ll get to stay. Then we can be friends.”
“I’d like that, but we’ll probably just move again. Sorry I couldn’t be in your band.”
“I am too.”
“Are you still trying to start one?”
Devon shrugged. “I’m putting it off for now.”
“Why aren’t you sitting with your friends?”
Devon knew he could lie, but went with the truth instead. “I dissed Zoey really bad, and they aren’t feeling me right now. Hoping that will change, and when it does, you’re welcome to sit with us. Even if you and your mom don’t stick around long enough for us to be friends.”
“You mean that?”
Devon nodded.
“Okay. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
In the days that followed, Devon ate lunch with Ellis and worked on his letters in the evenings. When they were finally finished, addressed, stamped, and taken to the post office, he was excited—maybe now he’d get his friends back.