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Even without Mr. Barnes, she could call Devon’s parents. A quick search for his emergency contact sheet came up empty. A deeper dive into his electronic records failed to provide a single phone number, only an address in what she knew was a rough part of town.
She toyed with the idea of knocking on his door, but she didn’t know how well it would go over with his parents. He’d given her the impression his family life left something to be desired, and unlike Carol, she was no social worker, but she did care about him.
Maybe she could find another way in.
Justin.
Every time she saw Devon last year, he and Justin Brown were thick as thieves. They ate lunch together. They left campus together at the end of every day. If anyone would know what was going on with Devon, Justin would.
She found him sitting alone, playing with his phone on a bench in the quad. Surprisingly, there were no girls around. A cute kid with light hazel eyes and rich, dark skin, it was rare to see Justin without at least one girl hanging on his arm.
“Do you have a second?”
He glanced up, then gestured to the empty space on the bench next to him. His brows drew together. “Everything okay, Miss T?”
She took the offered seat. “I’m hoping you can tell me. I haven’t seen Devon since school started back up. He was supposed to be in my Senior Advanced Lit class this year. Have you heard from him?”
Justin shifted uncomfortably. “He, uh, he’s got some stuff going on at home.”
“Yeah. I got the impression. Should I be worried?”
He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the breeze. She waited. She knew it was no small thing she was asking. It had to be bad for Justin to be even considering any answer besides no.
After a minute or two, he firmed his jaw and opened his eyes. “Yeah. I think we all need to be worried.”
Shit. Part of her had hoped Justin would say everything was fine, or she had read too much into things and Devon only had a cold or something. “What’s going on, Justin?”
He rubbed his forefinger across the seam of his mouth. “Can’t tell you, Teach. Not my story to tell. Maybe you could talk to him. Convince him to come back. He liked you. He says you looked out for him and shit.”
She let the curse word slide. “Can you help me find him?”
“Yeah. I can, but are you sure?” He tilted his head toward her. “You don’t exactly look like you belong in our neighborhood, you know what I’m saying? And I’m not sure folks will appreciate some well-meaning white lady swooping in, trying to save the day.”
He had a point. Her life was hardly a Michelle Pfeiffer movie with a Coolio soundtrack. She did care about Devon, though, and she didn’t want him to fall through the cracks.
Change someone’s life.
“You think you could get him to meet you somewhere? Grab a burger or something? I could run into you guys, try to talk to him.”
Justin rubbed at his chin. “I think I could. Give me your number and I’ll text you.”
She rattled off the numbers, and he put them into his phone.
“He’ll know it’s not a coincidence,” he warned, “but I’m hoping no one else will.”
***
True to his word, Justin texted her around seven o’clock with the address of a Burger King ten minutes away. The teens were already halfway through their burgers when she walked in the door.
Liv walked straight to their table. “Fancy meeting you here.”
The glower Devon gave Justin could strip paint from the wall. “Are you shitting me right now? You narc’d me out to my teacher?” He tossed the rest of his hamburger onto the tray. “I should’ve known you didn’t really want to buy Taylor a ring at the pawn shop tonight, even if her baby is yours.”
“No telling who her kid belongs to, but no, I didn’t tell anybody your business. Miss T wanted to talk to you is all. Nobody’s here to see it. What’s it gonna hurt?”
There weren’t many people there, but she felt as though every one of them stared at her. “May I sit?”
“Whatever,” Devon grumbled.
