Page 71 of He Hate Me

“Any other questions?” my mom asks.

“Did you guys ever hang out before my dad died? I have this weird memory of Devin being in the basement of our house on Goshen.”

They both shake their heads, though I notice a slight brittleness to my mom’s “reassuring” smile.

“We met for dinner a few times,” Devin says, “but that was always at restaurants. I never came by before David…left us, did I?”

My mother shakes her head again, a small mouth of displease distorting her lips. “I think the wake was the first time. But I think it’s your turn now, kids. What happened last night?”

“Just what we said,” Brandon responds.

“I was asking Deja.”

“It nothing exciting. We went to Olive Garden for dinner and then Brandon suggested we drop by Rourke’s cause we still had a while till curfew.”

“Why Rourke?”

“Most of my friends were at Christian Dubrov’s party and I hate his guts.”

“We got there, I peer pressured Deja into smoking weed and then she started falling asleep on her feet. I took her to an empty bedroom and left her on the bed. When it was time to go, I tried to wake her up, but she was dead to the world and I’d had some alcohol, so I lay down for a sec, just till I sobered up, and then I woke up this morning.”

“The two of you slept together?”

“Not in the way you’re implying,” I say. “We were perpendicular to each other.”

“More like an L shape,” Brandon says. “You ended up at the foot of the bed.”

“Such a gentleman, isn’t he? Kicking a girl till she’s squashed up against the footboard.” We are cooking with gas here with this lying. I can’t tell if they’re buying it, but confusion has replaced anger, so I take that as a positive sign.

“We’ll need to discuss this between us,” my mom says, “but for right now, you’re grounded. School home—that’s it. No social media for a week.”

“A week!”

“And whatever else Devin and I decide once we’ve talked about it.”

“And since you got such a great night’s sleep, why don’t you get started on your chores. We’ll expect you to make lunch and dinner as well.”

“Both of us?”

“Both of you.

We try to act as if we’re suffering, but none of this is that bad. We warm up soup and make sandwiches for lunch and we both enjoy making dinner. I’m a little anxious about getting all my reading done, but it’s not a big problem. As tense as our interactions are with my parents, we’re vibing. It feels good to be near Brandon, and we work well together. I know we need to be careful, now more than ever, but I’m feeling so good after last night, my body just gravitates towards his.

“I’m curious about something,” Devin says at dinner. “What were you doing in the basement? The area where we keep the storage boxes is locked.”

Brandon freezes for a moment. It’s quick but Devin doesn’t miss it. His expression is now more intent.

“I’m working on a gift for my mom,” Brandon says. “I thought the pictures might help her remember…before.”

“I told him about the boxes and where the keys were kept.”

“So you weren’t snooping around the basement?”

“Is there buried treasure down there or something?” Brandon jokes. Devin doesn’t even crack a smile.

“That area is off limits,” Devin says.

“Fine. I already found her old albums. Unless those are a national treasure or something.”