Boy Proof

Devin accosted me after school. I had just unlocked my car door and was about to get in when out of nowhere there was Devin. I ignored the leap my heart made in my chest and put on an irritated front.

"What do you want?" I snapped, tossing my bag over to the passenger side.

"To talk, of course. Duh."

His words weren't condescending like other people's. It was purely Devin -- Devin's unique way of operating. Sure enough, when I glanced at him, he was flashing a trademark grin. I tried to overlook his one dimple but found myself failing.

"Alright then," I granted. Stupid dimple.

"I'm sorry that I kept you in the dark. You are my best friend, and my choice to keep you out of the loop was inexcusable," he apologized. Dev paused for a minute and then decided to follow through with his next words. "Of course, you have to understand something, something that might justify my actions. You confuse me."

I expected more, and I waited patiently. It didn't seem like he was going to say anything more, so I prompted him. "And. . .?"

"You confuse me. Now tell me why," he responded.

It was a trick, one that I had used countless times on countless people to get what I wanted. It was simple manipulation, really. You admit something and then instead of explaining it you make the other person. Not only does it give him a hint as to what you're thinking, but you also get a clue (if you play your cards right, you'll get the exact information you're looking for) into his thoughts.

When a lot of time is spent with someone, there tends to be an effect. You rub off on that person, and in turn that person rubs off on you. I had taken Devin's way of speaking and adapted it to myself, and he had perfected my probing method.

Devin was searching for an answer, that much I knew. I just wasn't sure I wanted him to find that answer. Besides, what was the actual question he wanted answered?

"I don't have a clue, Devin. Why don't you tell me?" I said, trying to get the conversation to flip into my favor.

I could tell by his eyes that he didn't buy it.

"I'm sure it'll occur to you."

I knew I had to say something. Otherwise, we would have stood outside for the rest of eternity waiting for the other to fold.

"I isolate people? I have a horrible way of dealing with conflict? What?"

"You don't isolate people nearly as much as others. And people never deal with conflicts properly," he corrected. "And you're deflecting."

"Yeah, and what exactly are you doing?"

He shrugged.

There was another moment in which nothing was said. This time, he broke the silence.

"You confuse me because I never know what you're thinking. Usually, a person can get a pretty clear indication of what someone else is thinking, but with you I never know."

"That's a lie," I countered, thinking of our millions of discussions. "I'm forever telling you things."

"Yes, but you edit."

"You do too," I defended. "Everybody does. That's part of life."

"Yes," Devin admitted, "people edit their thoughts. I'm not denying that or the fact that it's part of life. But you're different. With other people, I can infer things."

He launched into a metaphor. "For instance, someone might say they don't like the cold. I can deduce from that factoid that they won't like Alaska. But you --You might say that you don't like the cold, but then you turn around and say you love snow. The two things don't link up! What you really meant to say was that you don't like the feeling of brain freeze because it's cold against your brain."

"So I confuse you because I don't like brain freeze?" I asked, purposely stupid. It was my turn to twist out information.

"No. You confuse me because you never are clear-cut. You are purely circumstantial -- subject to change in just a second."

"Well, I'm sorry for being the way I am then," I lied.

"No, you're not," he disagreed. "Don't lie."

Of course I wasn't sorry. I wasn't precisely sure what he was going on about (or, for that matter, where he was trying to go with the conversation), but the gist of it was that my brain was sporadic. I already knew that. He had offered no new facts, and I was growing weary of our exchange.

"Besides," he continued," I didn't mean it the way you think. I didn't say I wanted you to be any different. I only said that you're confusing."

"Yes, Devin, but how specifically am I confusing?"

"Like I said, you say one thing, and I try to interpret it. But then I think that my interpretation must be wrong because you say something entirely different."

"Examples, please," I quipped.

There was a momentary silence and then, "Can't think of one."

"Then how can you expect me to believe you?"

"Because I'm your friend."

He had me with that one.

"Yes, but you didn't seem to remember that when you were sneaking around with Holly."

His eyes flashed at her name. "I've already told you that it was stupid to not tell you! I already apologized for that. Why can't you let it go?!"

"Because I'm confusing," I taunted.

I couldn't admit to him the real reason that I couldn't let it go. I couldn't because it meant something. This wasn't just about him keeping a secret; this was about me possibly liking him more than I should.

I thought of certain moments we had shared. I wasn't crazy. He had shown interest back. I know he did. You can't look at someone the way he looked at me and not love them.

"You know what?" I said, rushing to get my words in before I lost the nerve. "You confuse me. For pretty much the same reason. I'm led to believe one thing and then you veer off and change directions."

"Examples?"

"Can't think of any," I mimicked. Of course I knew examples. And when I had asked for examples earlier, he knew some too. We were both just too chicken to admit that we were talking about more than just friendship.

Another blaring silence, and then, "Dev, we're best friends. Why can't we just stop fighting?"

"I dunno," he answered.

"I dunno either. Maybe we should just -- Not talk for a while."

Naturally, I didn't want to do that. But if he was going to continue to be with Holly and I was going to continue being upset and he was going to continue to be in denial about us and I was going to continue to be visibly unaffected, then there was no point continuously bringing up the same conversation.

"Is that what you really want?" Devin asked.

I nodded even though I wanted with all my heart to violently shake my head, scream hell no, and crush him in a hug.

"Okay then," he muttered. "Okay."