Six

"Are we going to play Mario Maker 2 or not? I need to know who I can torture with my levels," Buddy stated as we exited the school's main doors. Brody's sedan was parked out front, and he rolled down the window to wave at me when I spotted him.

"Unless you're cool with me coming over after dinner, I have a meeting to 'attend.'"

"I think you used your air quotes in the wrong place," he said, cocking an eyebrow as he followed me to the car.

"No. Brody has a meeting with a new community center. I'm tagging along. I'd invite you along, but-"

"It's club thing. I get it."

"Actually, I'll be doing homework the entire time, and you know how Brody gets when we screw around."

He shuddered, remembering the time we were sophomores and wound up cart surfing at Target. With the two of us separating from him while he bought art supplies for the Clubhouse, Buddy and I grew bored with sitting by the magazines and decided to race down the aisles with me in the cart and him pushing from behind. We were being careful, but when Brody saw us, he scolded us in front of the entire electronics departments as though he were a forty-year-old man and we were his rebellious teenagers. We never did anything like that again, at least not with Brody around. If Buddy tagged along, we knew we'd get bored and do something that might upset Brody. Neither of us wanted to risk it.

"Just let me know what time you're leaving at. I'll check with my mom if you can still come over."

"Sounds good."

I waved to him as I slid into the passenger seat, saying "Hi," to Brody as he drove off school grounds.

"How did last night go?" he questioned. "Did you ask Jeanie about the concert?"

"Yes." I bit my lip, hiding my smile.

"And?" he slowly asked.

"She said she'd come!"

"What did I tell you," he encouraged, clapping his hand on my shoulder. "She loves you."

"Well, I know she loves me, but she's so busy with her brand, I didn't want to get in the way of anything she needs to do."

"Did she mention-"

"No, I don't think she realized, but she'll remember when the date comes closer. I hope she likes them. The Struts aren't exactly her favorite genre, but I fucking love glam rock. Queen. Elton. ELO. Seriously, just the best."

"Speaking of ELO, put them on shuffle," Brody said as he handed me his phone. I played their top hits, starting with Mr. Blue Sky. "The concert isn't going to be so much about the music for her. As long as she doesn't hate them, she's just going to enjoy being there to spend time with you. I guarantee that is all she wants to do with you. It's not like you two ever spend time together."

"I want to, but she's busy. When she's not locked in her studio, she's in her room, binge watching TV till she falls asleep. She works long hours, and she never leaves the house."

"Now she'll have a reason to."

"Still... I want her at least like them. Have at least one band that we can love and fawn over together."

"You just think Geth is attractive."

"How could I not," I hummed. "He is the drummer. And all drummers are attractive."

The drive to the community center didn't take as long as I assumed it would. Just twenty minutes. I slung my bag over my shoulder as I slammed the car door shut. Following Brody inside, he seemed to know exactly where he was supposed to go. I wanted to take my time and look around, but since he was on a schedule, I didn't want to hold him up.

There was the standard pool that anyone could see, already filled with people of all ages. And there was an entrance to the men, women, and family locker rooms that lead to the gym or pool. I thought of buying a subscription. There were a bunch of rooms with glass walls, a small library-esque building that had a bunch of desks. More than likely it was a quiet zone for teenagers. Another room was strictly a giant ball pit for little children to play in, but I spotted a few big kids in there as well. There was also a small food court like place with a pretzel stand, a sandwich place, and a dessert bar.

"This place is beautiful," I commented as we walked past an empty room with rows of easels. "Not exactly what I had in mind when you mentioned an art studio."

"No, but it is something to begin with," Brody stated. He patted my back and led me over to the food court. At a table near the lobby and far from the food stands, Brody pulled out a chair and sat me down. "I'm going to be down that hall meeting with the director," he told me as he pointed to where the director's office was. "Come get me if there's an emergency. If you finish your homework, I'll buy you some ice cream."

While I rolled my eyes at him, ice cream did sound incredibly appealing. "What else am I going to do here? Look at my phone?"

"Why not? You can, but you won't get free ice cream," he smirked.

I chuckled, and he kissed the top of my head before walking down the hall to his meeting. I slapped my bag onto the table, pulled out my binders, and started my homework. I never enjoyed working on anything school related in public. It always brought the paranoia of someone peeking over my shoulder to see me doing my work completely wrong and making fun of me for it. I wasn't as smart as the other kids in my class, but I knew enough to pass. It was just hard to learn new things and instantly get the hang of it. It took some time to get comfortable, and by the test, I was ready enough. I was never fully prepared until the midterms or final exams. It was only then that I finally grasped the criteria enough to pass with a C+ or B-. At least I passed.

Grabbing my earbuds, I played Metallica as I answered questions about mitosis and chromosomes. I was so lost in my headspace that I didn't notice two boys sit down next to and across from me. The one on my left yanked out my headphone, and I glared at him. Mop of hair on his head, ripped jeans, and a studded leather jacket. He was dressed as a compliment to my attire, but that didn't mean we were on the same wavelength. I dressed goth simply because I loved the fashion. It had nothing to do with my personality. Based on the way the fools beside me were already behaving, I could tell their punk-ish looks went hand in hand with their dick-ish personalities.

"Metallica, huh?" he asked as he stuck my earbud in his ear. I snatched it out of his hands, glaring at him. "Geez, woman, I like them too."

"So?" I tsked. "I'm studying. Go away."

"What? Don't want to make a new friend?"

"Not while I'm studying."

I tried to stick my earbud back in, but he flicked it out of my hand as his friend snatched my homework from me. "Biology? Who studies biology for fun?"

"It's homework, you dipshit."

"If you want to know about biology," the boy on my left said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, "I can teach-"

A hand slammed down on the table in front of me. The boy's hand quickly retreated to his side, and he stared up at the person behind me with quivering eyes. Glancing over my shoulder at my savior, I was taken aback when I saw Devon Quid glaring at the fool. He leaned in close to my ear and whispered loud enough for them to hear, "Are these boys bothering you?" Unable to speak, I just nodded. Devon stood up straight, continuing to glare at the two. "Well, then I guess they should stop."

Before Devon could make any movement towards them, both boys jumped out of their chairs and rushed towards the community center exit doors. I wondered if Devon's reputation surpassed the halls of Green Lake High School. That or those punks went to school with Devon and me at some point.

Placing my hand over my chest, I sighed and smiled up at him. "Thank you."

Devon didn't say anything, just stared at me with awkward eyes as he nodded. I noticed his navy shirt had a logo in the corner of a hot pretzel covered in honey mustard. He even wore a baseball cap with the 'Twisted' pretzel logo on it, where the 'W' was a pretzel itself.

"I didn't realize you worked here. I would have said hi."

"It's fine," he stated, his voice gruff. "I saw your boyfriend leave, and when I realized he wouldn't be back in time, I wanted to make sure they went away."

"Thank you for helping me, but Brody's not my boyfriend. He's just a friend."

Devon quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah. People tend to think we're dating, but we're most certainly not."

He frowned. "But you want to?"

"No. And he doesn't want to date me."

"So he's like your brother."

I shrugged. "I guess. I'd consider him more like a father than anyone else."

Devon dragged out a chair and sat next to me, most likely looking for a sign that he should stand up and leave. I had no intentions to push him away. He was always nice to me. "Why a father?"

"My dad pissed off when I was five. My sister was thirteen, and mom... well, mom was a wreck. All the men she tried to date sucked in some way, so she kept kicking them out of her life and mine, and I didn't have any male role models to treat me like a princess or their little girl. I only had a mom who worked and a sister who made YouTube videos. When I met Brody, he kind of took on that parental role that I needed in my life, becoming a father to me in the process."

"It's good to make family with the friends who choose to stay in our lives. If we can't count on our biological family, we should trust that the family we choose will be there for us when we need them the most."

There was so much pain in his voice. Like Devon understood what it meant not to have an actual family to rely on and needing to seek it out himself. It must have been why he was so protective of Rena when I met her. They may have been all they could count on, and the rest of his family were people he needed to look for.

"Yeah," I mumbled, not sure of what to say next.

"I have to get back to work... but if it's not too much trouble, would you mind sitting at a table closer to my station? I just want to make sure you're safe in case those boys come back in," Devon bashfully requested, unable to meet my eye until the end. Smiling, I nodded before sending a quick text to Brody that I moved for when he left his meeting.

Devon went behind the counter, leaning on his forearms as he stared at me. I faced his station, not noticing anyone behind him. He had to have been the only one there. "My cousin owns the food court here. She's hoping to get some new businesses in, but for now she thinks this will be enough."

"There are a lot of plans for the community center, huh?"

He nodded, glancing around the place. "Yeah. I think that the more activities we can get in here, the more popular it will definitely become."

I continued my homework, occasionally glancing at Devon. He didn't do any work, just stood there and glanced around the food court, occasionally glancing at me as well.

"Do you have any work that needs to get done?" I asked.

He smirked, scoffing as he took a long look at the empty center. "No one's here yet, and I've got nothing to do. Once my cousin gets in, she'll most likely send me home for the night."

"Are you and your cousin close?"

"Kinda. She is the closest family member to me besides Rena. She's kinda become my mom."

"Can I ask where your actual mom is?"

"California. Lives in a building where no kids are allowed. But I have a lot of family out here, and I live with my uncle and aunt, so it works out."

"What do they do?"

"Travel. Aunt's a journalist and uncle's a photographer. They're hardly ever home."

"What about your dad?"

His face was blank, but I could see the anger in his eyes. "Jail. Good riddance." Staring directly in my eyes, I felt under interrogation. "I swear I'm nothing like him."

"I believe you."

"That easily?"

One question. That was all it took to have the reality of his reputation sink in. People rarely believed he was a good person. He had to live through it for years. He did stupid things, sure, but no one ever took the time to sit down and get to know him, listen to him, or understand him. After all the judging he had to endure, it was no wonder he would be suspicious of someone believing he was a good person with no questions asked. But I did.

"I doubt your father in jail would stick up for me just now and clean my bloody fist."

He smiled. I thought I even saw a faint blush on his cheeks. It was quite cute. "How is your hand, by the way?"

"Lot better. Don't notice it until I wash my hands. Have to unwrap and wrap them all over again," I chuckled. "Thanks again for cleaning them."

"Yeah, sure thing." He nodded. "I know how bad it can feel when cuts get infected. I'd hate for that to happen to you too."

"How many times did yours get infected?"

"Lots. Hard to keep track."

I stood up and walked to the counter. "Why do you fight?"

"I have my reasons."

"What sort of reasons?"

"Defense," he stated. "Protection." I'd never seen him so sad.

"Then you really must be nothing like your father."

When Devon gazed up at me, there was so much relief written on his face. How many times had he been compared to his father? And what did he do that caused people to see him each time they so much as looked at Devon? I believed what he said about fighting to protect and defend. It may have been biased since I'd only seen him be polite to me and his sister (and the fact he just saved my ass), but people typically did nice things for a reward of some sort. Buddy's admirers were only nice to me because we were close. If they were rude to me, he wouldn't like them.

Devon was the type of person to do nice things for the internal reward of feeling good about himself. He didn't flash around his good deed. He didn't expect any sort of payback. He just did good things merely because he wanted to make people happy, and that would make him happy. There was nothing wrong with doing good things to make yourself feel good about yourself. It was only bad when you expected something in return.

"You're a really nice person, Mel," he said as he wrung his hands together. "It's a shame more people don't treat you that way."

"You mean because of those guys?"

"No," he mumbled. "I've seen the way people look at you at school. I've heard the shitty things they say behind your back. They don't know you."

"You don't know me either. It might be true," I smirked.

He shook his head. "No. You're genuine. You're nice to anyone regardless of how they've treated you before. You always were with me."

"You always treated me kindly, too," I argued. "Sure, you never said much, but you were always polite to me. You never gave off any negative impressions. You never even scared me. You were always just another classmate."

He lowered his head, staring at the countertop.

"Oh, God, did I say something wrong?"

"No," he whispered.

He didn't say anything for a moment. I took a step back towards the table, not wanting to upset him by lingering around and forcing him to talk.

"Even if you only came over to give me my work," he said, and I turned back to look at him, "you were still the only person who came by to see me since I got suspended."

"Your friends didn't stop by?"

"No. They've never really been friends to me. They're just the only people who weren't afraid of me."

"I'm not," I smiled.

"To be seen with me?"

"Why would I be?" I shrugged. "I'm not ashamed to be seen around people I like."

He smiled widely. "Like friends?"

Mrs. Bustier was right. If anyone could relate to him, I could. "Yeah. Friends."

"Mel!"

I glanced over my shoulder to find Brody walking up to me. "Hey. How was your meeting?"

"It was good. Why did you move?"

"Ran into a friend," I replied as I looked back at Devon.

His eyes were hard, his jaw stiff. As scary as he looked, it was definitely because he was nervous. Thankfully, Brody could tell as well. He held out his hand to Devon and said, "Oh, it's nice to meet you. I'm Brody."

"Devon," he replied, shaking his hand.

"The kid whose homework you brought over?" Brody asked, as he looked at me.

"Yup," I smiled.

"Pleasure to meet you. I hope to see you again," Brody said as I packed my homework.

"You too," Devon called out, waving goodbye as we exited the food court.

"He seems like a nice guy," Brody said once we were outside.

"You have no idea."