Chapter 8
Devan
Five weeks later
“ D evan Marie Dunn.” My name echoes throughout Worthen Arena as I walk across the platform. The red and white tassel hanging from the mortarboard tickles my cheek as I reach for my diploma. It’s an empty folder, but after the ceremony, it will be filled with proof of my degree.
I smile as a photographer takes my picture.
Stepping off the platform, I hear my brother’s voice above the crowd.
“You did it, Devan.”
Warmth fills my cheeks as I peer out at the audience.
This is our last ceremony of the day. We started earlier this morning in the quad.
The sun was shining, and the air was thick with excitement as we listened to prayers and speeches.
Now, we’re in Worthen Arena where both Marilyn and I receive our recognition.
Our parents are seated together along with Marilyn’s older brother and younger sister and my brother, Ricky.
Seeing my brother, I shake my head. He’s standing and pumping his fist. I should be embarrassed, but I’m mostly proud—of graduating, of the gold cord around my neck signifying that I’ve graduated with honors, and of my family also being proud.
Ricky chose to attend a two-year college, earning his associate degree in bookkeeping.
I’m the first one to graduate with a bachelor’s degree. My mom earned an associate from Indiana University in Indianapolis. She’s been a dental hygienist in Washington all my life. My gaze meets hers, and I notice the tears in her eyes. It makes my heart swell to know they’re proud of me.
After the ceremony, our two families dine at a local restaurant.
The table is filled with Marilyn’s parents, her siblings, and my family.
Nine of us talking, laughing, and celebrating.
Marilyn’s mom, Joan, sits back and looks at me, a smile curling her lips.
“I wish you could talk Marilyn into moving back. First, Marcus moves to Chicago and now Marilyn is moving away.” She turns to her youngest daughter. “That’s it, you can never leave.”
We all laugh. Melissa is only fourteen. Her time is coming.
“I still can’t believe it,” Ricky says, talking to me. “I never pegged you for an RTS.”
“I guess college doesn’t count, so I’m not returning. I never left.”
“College counts,” Marilyn says. She turns to her mom. “And who knows what I’ll do after grad school. Maybe I’ll find a great kisser back in Riverbend.”
I elbow my friend as my stomach does a flip-flop.
“What is this?” my dad asks.
“Nothing, Dad.” My cheeks are on fire.
“You’re moving back for some guy?” Ricky asks. “Who?”
“Like I’d tell you, if that guy existed.”
My brother turns to Marilyn. “Does he?”
Marilyn shoots me an I’m sorry expression. “I’m just saying maybe I’ll find a great kisser. And it isn’t you,” she adds. It seems there has been a rift of sorts between my brother and my best friend.
“Ouch,” Ricky says, clutching his heart. “I’m so wounded.”
“Have you two kissed?” I ask, shocked.
“No,” they both say at the same time.
“And,” Joan says, obviously moving the subject away from Ricky and Marilyn. Her eyes are on me. “You’re going to live at home.”
I move my gaze to my parents. They’re both smiling, making me feel less like a failure for returning to my childhood bedroom. “I am for now. I want to see how the first year of teaching goes. Then maybe I can get an apartment.”
“No rush,” my mom says.
My parents were both enthusiastic about me taking the seventh-grade teaching position in Riverbend.
They didn’t blink an eye about me moving home.
It was Ricky who let me in on the secret that they’re considering selling our farm.
He swore me to secrecy. It’s the reason I’m laying the groundwork for moving out.
I don’t want my parents to feel trapped because I’m back in their house.
Later that night, Marilyn and I are back in our apartment for what will be our last night. We both sent a carload of things home with our families. Tomorrow, Dad, Art—Marilyn’s dad—and Ricky are coming back with a moving truck.
“I’m going to miss living with you,” I say.
“Me too. You can always move with me to Bloomington and commute.”
I laugh. “I could live ten minutes from the school for free or live an hour away and pay rent.”
“Yeah, but you get me.”
“It would be worth it.”
I go to the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of champagne that Joan left for us to toast our last night. Taking off the wire cage, I push up on the plastic cork. “Oh,” I scream, jumping when the loud pop fills the air.
“We did it,” I say as I lift a plastic cup with bubbly champagne and tap Marilyn’s cup.
“We did.”
We both take a drink. The bubbles tickle my nose and throat.
“Too bad all of our glassware is packed,” she says, looking at the cup.
Peering around the mostly bare apartment, I think about all the things we’ve accumulated. “I’m glad you can use most of our stuff in your new apartment,” I say. “I’d hate for it to be stuck in storage for a year.”
“I appreciate it. I wasn’t looking forward to buying new.”
I pour more champagne into my friend’s cup and, lifting one eyebrow, ask, “How come you never told me you kissed Ricky?”
She shakes her head. “Because it was a long time ago, and it only happened on a dare.” She scrunches her nose. “No offense to your brother, but it wasn’t the best kiss of my life.”
A cold chill scurries over my skin. “Oh my God, you did kiss him.”
“It was four years ago at your high school graduation party. And there were no fireworks. No butterflies. I mean, he’s cute in a Riverbend type of way, but nope.”
“Four years ago.”
She nods.
“Does Jill know?”
Marilyn nods again.
“It’s official. I need new best friends.”
“What would you have said if you knew?”
“Eww. That would have been my first response.” I recalled something. “Is that why you two don’t get along?”
She shakes her head. “We get along when he isn’t a dick.”
“Is that why you weren’t happy for me that night with Justin.”
“I’m happy for you. I just know that it made things uncomfortable for me and Ricky. I don’t want that for you and Justin.”
Rolling my lip between my teeth, I think about the one kiss. Lifting my eyes, I meet Marilyn’s gaze. “I don’t know what it will be like when we see one another.”
“Maybe you will fall into one another’s arms and live happily ever after.”
I laugh. “That’s not where I’m placing my bet.”
“What’s your bet?”
“I’m leaning toward awkward silence.”
Marilyn wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Someone is going to figure out what a wonderful catch you are. Who knows? It might be Justin Sheers.”
That isn’t a thought I can even consider.
“Just one kiss,” I say.
I wake the next morning to the buzzing of my phone. Groggily, I lift the screen and squint at the light pouring in my bedroom window. With the drapes packed, the mini blinds don’t do a great job of blocking the sunlight.
The text is from Dad.
“ON OUR WAY. ART WAS CALLED INTO WORK. LUCKILY, RICKY TALKED JUSTIN SHEERS INTO HELPING. DO YOU REMEMBER HIM?”
Yeah, Dad. I definitely remember him.
He doesn’t remember me.
My mouth goes dry as I look at the time of the text message. It was sent twenty minutes ago. That means I have about two and a half hours to come up with a disguise. Maybe a wig and a fake mustache.
Then I see a more recent text from my mom.
“YOUR ROOM IS DONE. I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO SEE THE COLOR. I HAVE THE WINDOWS OPEN SO YOU CAN STILL SLEEP IN THERE TONIGHT.”
That makes me laugh. When she told me she wanted to paint my room, I thought of what my best friends had said. It seems that we Dunns are nothing if not predictable. Well, not entirely. Throwing the blanket off me, I fling open my bedroom door, and rush across the hallway to Marilyn’s room.
Bursting in, the door bounces off the wall.
“What’s the emergency?” she mumbles.
“You have to help. I’m in so much trouble,” I announce.
Rushing to my aid, Marilyn buries her face in her pillow.