Awful Direction

An unhealthy ball of car exhaust lodged itself in John’s throat as he loaded the last of the equipment into the trailer. While the rest of the guys piled themselves eagerly, and tiredly, into the van he was sure to take his sweet time; savoring every last second he had in Tempe. Any minute the girls were going to show up, drown their boyfriends in poignant tears and good luck kisses, and then—all in one swift moment—they’d be on the road yet again.

Just like every other tour, John typically would’ve been the first in the driver’s seat; ready to get as far from home—and all its memories—as possible. This time though, it didn’t feel the same. When John turned around to take in his surroundings, all the houses and Arizona deserts, he didn’t get excited at the thought of getting away. Nor did it satisfy him to know he’d be able to forget things for three months. The idea of leaving in itself, even if only for a few minutes, made him feel nauseous because this time he was leaving something—or, perhaps, a someone—behind.

“What’s got you down John Oh?” Jared asked, dropping an arm around his friend’s shoulders, “You’re usually a lot more chipper when we’re leaving for tour.”

“Sorry man, I didn’t mean to bum everyone out,” John replied halfheartedly, ignoring Jared’s question.

Frankly he didn’t have to answer, as one of his best friends it was Jared’s job to know these kinds of things without even having to ask. Doing so anyway was to simply be polite.

“You know, if you want me to stall them so you have more time with her, all you gotta do is ask.”

John raised an eyebrow at his friend, playing dumb. “What are you talking about?”

“Save that I’m-not-into-my-new-best-friend bullshit for someone else,” Jared chuckled, “If I know one thing, it’s that you’ve got the hots for Devon.”

“Oh really? Well, since you think you know so much, why am I so down Mr. Monaco?”

“Because you don’t know how you’re going to act when she’s not around.”

If John said the answer didn’t catch him off guard, he’d be lying.

“What do you mean how I’m going to act?”

“I mean,” Jared said, looking John in the eyes, “You’re afraid that you’re going to go back to being the depressed mess you used to be before Devon was around. And, personally, I think you’re right.”

“Well no one asked your personal opinion,” John spat, shrugging Jared’s arm off his shoulders. He stormed off towards the van, sitting in the farthest back row of seats, and slamming the door behind him. With a long, irritated huff, he laid on his back—ignoring how uncomfortable it felt with the seatbuckles under him—and stared at the ceiling as if it held all the answers.

He mentally cursed Jared for knowing him so well. Maybe even better than he knew himself sometimes. It could really be a pain in the ass. In all honesty, John had been contemplating this day since he came home from the club three days ago. He’d been doing a lot of reflecting lately, mulling over his current feelings and actions. Hell, he’d even practiced all the things he could say today in front of the mirror in his bathroom. Several times his mother had passed with a concerned facial expression. Once his father came in to ‘check up’ on him, as in to test if he’d lost the little sanity he still had. You’d think after all the conflicts he’d been having with his emotions he’d find a way to ask one of his parents for advice, or maybe his brothers, but after twenty years with them John knew by now they didn’t understand this stuff. And anyway, how could he expect them to understand what he felt when not even he could?

The only way they even knew of Devon was through the stories John had told at dinner every once in awhile. Of course his mother said the usual maternal things such as, ‘She sounds like a charming young lady’ and ‘You should bring her over for dinner one of these days John’. Followed by his father saying joking things like ‘Now what could a girl like that want to do with a mess like you’ and ‘So long as she isn’t a Giants fan she’s allowed in my house’. The usual corny things parents were expected to say.

It was strange to hear them say these things now though, because the more John heard himself run on and on about Devon, the more he realized just how much those little moment with her effected him. When he woke up he smiled because he knew she was waiting for him to call and make plans, but when he came home that same night he felt like screaming again because he was alone. This whiplash between happy and sad terrified him. When he was at the café with Devon, he looked passed her charming smile and saw Daisy’s icy glare. Yet when he was lying in his room at night, all he could see was the outline of the same smile on his ceiling. When he wasn’t thinking about Daisy he was thinking of Devon, and vice versa.

A car horn momentarily tore John from his mind. When he sat up he saw the girls piling out of Anika’s mini-van, his heartbeat quickening when he watched Devon jump out last. Do you like her? He asked himself for the thousandth time. Do you? It killed him knowing he still had no answer. At most, he decided he may or may not have developed a small crush on his new friend. Small crushes typically meant nothing, but in John’s case it could mean everything. It was a potential sign he could be moving on. A terrible reality which he had been working hard to avoid for two years.

It would happen slowly, he knew. First he would have trouble remembering her face. What color were her eyes again? Was her hair long or short? Did she have dimples? Then he would forget the places they used to go together. Like the park and 8123. Those places could turn into places he went with Devon. Would that ever feel okay? Next he wouldn’t remember her scent. John had always held onto Daisy’s smell, because it was unlike anything he’d ever known. But now his nostrils were fixated on the smell of Devon’s strawberry shampoo. Finally, Daisy would just become the girl he found in old photo albums. And maybe Devon would be the picture he looked at every morning on his dresser.

The thought of abandoning Daisy made him feel sick.

He watched as she quickly hugged all the guys and stood awkwardly next to Tim as the girlfriends began to cry. The pair talked for a little, her eyes wandering around the front yard, and John knew already she was asking about him. When he watched Tim point in the direction of the van, he suddenly panicked. All the words he’d been thinking to say he couldn’t remember.

The door slid open with a loud clank and Devon’s gaze met John’s with a friendly smile.

“Hey, John.”

*~*

She crawled into the empty space next to him and tiredly rest her head against his shoulders. A content sigh fell from her pink lips when she felt the small tug from one of her brown curls as John twirled it between his fingers; she loved it when people played with her hair, it was something her mother used to do it all the time. They stayed silent for a good five minutes, both afraid that words—even whispers—would ruin this comfortable moment.

“Don’t go,” she finally whispered. Always the first to break the silence, “I’ll miss you.”

John both laughed and sighed. “You could always come with me,” he half joked, hope evident in his raspy voice.

“Both of us know I have to stay here. Who else is going to keep Ketely from all that junk food?”

They both chuckled.

“I guess that’s a valid excuse. Someone has to keep those girls in shape. It’s pretty much all they’ve got going for them.”

With a melodic giggle Devon smacked John’s shoulder and sat up straight. “Watch it, O’Callaghan! Those are my friends you’re talking about!”

“And you’re forgetting the handsome genius who introduced you to them,” he laughed, “Therefore I think I’m entitled to say whatever I want about them.”

“John O’Callaghan you’re neither handsome nor a genius,” Devon teased, playfully elbowing his chest.

He gasped overdramatically. “Why, Devon, you’ve broken my heart!”

All she could do really was laugh quietly. A million remarks were running through her mind, none of which would’ve made sense in this case. However, by this point Devon was desperate for any way to keep the boys home a little longer. While the girls were itching to say their goodbyes and crawl back into their beds, Devon was still clinging to what little time she had left before they were gone. Three months was an awfully long time to her. And it felt strangely similar to watching her mother leave all those years ago for a business trip. There was always that growing fear in the pit of her stomach knowing anything could happen on the road. Anything that could keep her mother—or in this case the boys—from coming back home, safe and sound. When she first noticed the melancholy look in John’s green eyes, she wondered if he was just as sad as her over the thought of leaving.

Normally when her mother left Devon would’ve been crying and hugging her stocking-clad legs. Every once in awhile even attempting to stow away in her suitcase. There were several reasons she could never do that with John, one of them being it was completely inappropriate. Another, the fact that she was handling herself as maturely as possible. On their ride over, Anika had taken the liberty of placing bets on who would cry the hardest. Ketely voted Tamerah, Tamerah voted herself, Devon said she wasn’t participating (to which all the girls called her a party pooper), and Anika—with her infamous, devilish grin—voted Devon.

“Why would you think that?” she had asked, completely bewildered, “I don’t even have anyone to cry for!”

At that the girls all wiggled their eyebrows.

“You don’t need to play dumb with us, Dev,” Tamerah giggled.

“I’m not playing dumb…”

“Well, whether you are or not doesn’t matter,” Ketely shrugged, “It’s only a matter of time before you and John hook up.”

She remembered choking on her Red Bull. “What?!”

“I mean, why put it off so long? You guys are a match made in heaven!” Anika loved talking like a hopeless romantic. “And I know you’re a big cry baby under that calm, collected exterior.”

“Yo-you guys have completely lost it. Me and John are just friends!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said it a thousand times,” Ketely rolled her big, blue eyes, “When was the last time you’ve seen a decent chick flick anyway? The best friends always fall for each other, it’s just how it is.”

“Whatever,” Devon muttered, shoving her nose further into her novel, “I suggest you stick to Night of the Living Dead, Ketely.”

“Hello?” John waved his hand furiously in Devon’s face, “Earth to Devon!”

She jumped suddenly and looked at him. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Rather than repeating himself, if he had even said anything at all, John simply relaxed into his seat with a wide grin adorning his cheeks. The way his eyes were inspecting her body made Devon blush and hide behind her bouncy, brown waves. She’d always caught him staring at her when their attention wasn’t directed elsewhere; and to say she wasn’t flattered would be a blatant lie. To put it plainly, Devon really did love the way John always stared at her. As if she was the most interesting person in the room, or as if his night would be ruined if he didn’t get a chance to talk to her. Sure enough John’s pleasant stare was always matched with the most appealing crooked smile.

And now she was wondering what it would be like the next few months without that crooked grin, or those attractive green orbs.

“You know,” he spoke up suddenly, “You never cease to amaze me Devon.”

“Oh c’mon. You act like I’m this remarkable person…”

He sat up straight with his eyebrows raised. “What are you talking about? You are remarkable.”

“Do you say that to all the pretty ladies John Ohh?” she laughed.

John didn’t laugh though, he just scooted a little closer. “Seriously, Dev. You’re wonderful.”

“I don’t think so,” she admitted, leaning forward.

Suddenly Devon realized just how furiously her heart was beating. Right as John moved as close as possible, his fingertips slowly overlapping her own. A moment like this was supposed happen in slow motion. That’s what she had always loved most about kissing. Not the kiss itself, but the anticipation before. John’s moves, however, were too fast, almost desperate. Somewhere between this sudden exhilaration and confusion Devon’s head was spinning. Her breath caught in her throat and she was panicking. Asking herself, do you really want this? Are you ready for this? If she wanted to be honest with herself, the answer was the same for both questions.

“Tell me something about Daisy, John,” she breathed.

He gave her a weird look, but obliged with a mischievous smirk. “She loved kissing.”

“I think we have that in common…”

John’s upper lip brushed against her own, giving him a taste of her banana bubble gum. She sighed quietly, before unexpectedly pulling away, placing her fingers over John’s mouth. When he opened his eyes, she saw a combination of hurt and misunderstanding. Perhaps she had let him go too far. Maybe she accidentally led him on. Meaning an explanation wouldn’t be easy. Especially when she didn’t exactly have one.

“John…” she murmured, “We’re just friends…right?”

The poor guy wouldn’t take no for an answer; he leaned into her again. Only to have her lean away for the second time.

“No one has to know,” he shrugged.

She shook her head frantically. “It’s not that. It’s just…you don’t want this. Not really.”

“I think I’m old enough to know what I want, Devon.”

“You’re just doing this to prove something. You’re trying to act like you’re getting over Daisy, but you’re not.”

“Don’t say that,” he growled, “It’s not true. I want to kiss you because I want to.”

“There’s too much you don’t know about me. We’re just friends. I just want to be friends.”

She stared at him from the outside of the van longer than she needed to. Both of their eyes sad and mixed up. More than anything she wanted to crawl back inside and give him some sense of comfort. But the only comfort she had was to get as far away as possible. He needed some time to think, clear his head, and evidently so did she. Neither of them were in the right state of mind to date each other, or anyone for that matter. Anika couldn’t have been more wrong when she said they were a match made in heaven.

“I’m only going to bring you down, John.”

It was the most honest thing she’d said in a long time.