Page 3 of Devanté
“I know…but it’s a way to get out of dinner.”
“Thanks, Devanté. I think I’m just going to accept my fate and try to grin and bear it through dinner.”
“Damn, is going to a game with me worse than dinner with your mom?” I smiled at her but she didn’t budge.
“It’s like giving me a choice between drowning or getting suffocated with a pillow. And I totally don’t mean that hanging out with you sucks because it doesn’t…”
“I know. It’s the people.”
“Yeah.” She tossed an apologetic glance my way. “Plus, I hate the way everyone looks at us when we hang out.”
“They’re probably wondering why someone as smart and badass as you would hang out with me for even five damn minutes.” I wanted to throw in there that they probably wondered why someone as beautiful as her was my friend but I knew she’d shoot that down, so I left it out. I wasn’t in the mood to hear Blake talk shit about herself. It pissed me off.
“I’m sure they’re not wondering that,” she laughed. Instead of arguing with her over it, I took the time to watch the way her heart-shaped face lit up when she laughed. Her soft cheeks lifted while her thick-lashed eyes lit up. I couldn’t help falling into the moment headfirst.
“That’s exactly what they should be thinking.” I reached out to tug on her ponytail a little like I used to do when we were kids. I was so obsessed with how long and dark her hair was that I always wanted to touch it. Feel it slip through my fingers and pool in my palm like black silk.
“This is why you’re my number one,” she told me, sobering from her laughter. Her eyes focused on my face. I felt her moving around my features. Studying my eyes, my nose, my mouth. “You always see the best in me, Devanté.”
“How can I not?” It was a serious question. “After all, we’re soul twins. Also, technically, you’re my wife so…” I shrugged and let my words settle in like I knew they would. That time, I got a real laugh from her. This one was an explosion of yellow against a plain white moment. She remembered our wedding as well as I did.
We were both eight-years-old and in Mrs. Carson’s class at Rayburn Elementary. It was project day and Blake had an A-plus project to turn in as usual. We had to persuade customers to buy a product we came up with. Most kids came up with toys and wrote letters explaining why the customers should buy them. A lot of us even had poster boards decorated with pictures of our made-up contraptions.
But Blake? I’ll never forget her project because it was resourceful and in direct correlation to the need of all the other kids in class. She had an entire marketing plan laid out plus a commercial she shot using her father’s camera. She even had sample bottles with labels she made herself. She had branding on lock before anyone even knew it was a thing.
She created a toy cleaner. Not because it sounded cool but because she noticed everyone else around her creating toys and if she created a cleaner then they would need her product. That was the day I knew she was a flat-out genius.
Her presentation killed and the teacher praised her so thoroughly that some of the other kids got jealous. One girl in particular, Maggie Barnes, cornered Blake at lunch when she went to throw her trash away. I overheard everything.
“Your project was ridiculous. Your mom probably did it for you.” I’d never forget the snide tone in Maggie’s voice.
“No…she didn’t,” Blake frowned.
“Whatever. It doesn’t even matter. You know why? Because when we’re all grown up nobody is going to care about your stupid project. All the other girls will be married with kids and you’ll still be fat…and alone.” She even had the nerve to top it off with a smile as she walked away.
Blake’s face crumbled and I sat there watching, full of something spiky and hot in my chest. I stood up and looked at Maggie with all the courage I could muster in my eight-year-old body.
“That wasn’t cool. Blake didn’t do anything to you and you’re bullying her for no reason.” I’d never forget the look of shock on Maggie’s face when I told her that she was being a bully. Like I’d hurt her feelings. I didn’t understand how someone could be so mean then turn around and have their feelings hurt behind being called out on it.
Blake was quiet for the rest of the day. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I watched the sad way her eyes looked in class and the way she stared down at the desk instead of paying attention like she usually did.
It was the first time I remembered seeing beauty in sadness. I wanted to do everything I could to make her smile again but I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t like the intimate glimpse into her melancholy.
I had no idea why my palms were tingly and hot in third grade when I looked at Blake but I knew it meant I liked being around her. I knew it meant Ididn’tlike when she was sad and that I would concoct something in my head to make her feel better.
It was like looking at a flower who couldn’t find the sun. Blake’s petals were pointed down and her head was bowed to the ground. I remembered thinking I’d pull the sun down from the sky, fiery and blazing just to see her lift her head and smile again.
When we were walking home after school, she kept her lips shut tight while her hands gripped the straps of her book bag. I kept trying to bring her smile back but it didn’t work. Finally, we got to her house and I paused outside the gate.
“Wanna go in the backyard?” I quizzed. Her house was the fun house on the block. Her backyard was a wonderland with a rainbow playset complete with swings and a slide. Her dad even put rainbow-colored flat rocks on the ground so we could play hopscotch.
She shrugged her shoulders and we walked around back after she told her parents she was home. She sat on the tree swing, kicking her legs back and forth until she climbed higher and higher. For a while, I watched her. Even though she was sad, she kept climbing.
“Hey…” I finally found my voice. “Um…what Maggie said to you at lunch was messed up.” She stopped pumping her legs and slowed down until she came to a complete stop.
“Yeah…”
“She’s an asshole.” The word leaped out of my mouth and spread out in the lush grass. Blake’s topaz eyes met mine, sunlight seeming to stream right through them like water. Her full lips twitched at the corners then she finally laughed. Her petals were facing the sun again.
