Interim - Ep 2 - The Great Roadtrip (aka, Devin: the Fifth Horseman)

[z-Avalon Wilson]

After Down on the Farm, before School starts
 
Frowning, Lona rewatched the video of her cover of Buy My Own Drinks. “Shit, it’s just shit,” she growled, mentally running down the list. The video quality was shit, the audio was shit, and the lighting was baby-diaper levels of shitty. At least crappy video quality will stop the ‘she-male’ bullshit in the comments.
 
It’s the phone. Lona picked up her cheap cell and considered it with a pensive frown. The navy-blue case still had scratches from a misfire during a pillow fight with Clara during finals last winter (who knew that you were not supposed to startle wild Claras in their natural habitats: studying with headphones on? Lona now knew this) and it had been about a year old then. In phone-terms, her device was approaching retirement. No wonder its camera sucks.
 
Dropping it on the desk with a sigh, Lona stared at her video, still paused on the screen. She knew she was good, and if she could just establish a YouTube presence, she might actually start to gain some followers. Well, more followers than the twenty or so that had joined from her family and friend circle. 
 
“I need better gear.” That was the simple truth, but there wasn’t a simple answer. Well, there was one simple answer: do without. The other was a bit more complicated: call Devin and see if he would honor his word about buying her musical stuff and then seeing if he’d classify a nice camera, tripod, and microphone as musical equipment. It felt like a huge long shot and she hesitated before picking up her phone again.
 
Her new life motto made her start typing. She rewrote the message several times, but she finally settled on: Devin, up for the trip to Great Falls? I am, though I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to get me decent recording equipment and a new guitar. It isn’t exactly what you offered, but it’s what I need right now.
 
The worst he could do was treat her like shit, and he’d probably do that even if she didn’t send this text. That feeling, along with her new motto to not let other people influence her actions anymore, made it easy to hit the send arrow. Wondering how long he’d take to get back to her, she turned back to the video, trying to see if she could salvage it.
 

[Jaunt]

Meet me at Bunnie's, or send me your address.

The text reply made her phone buzz almost before she went back to the video.  Which meant Devin was one of those 'live on their social media' types, never letting his phone wander too far from him.  She sent the address, what could it hurt, right?  Within a few minutes he was there but in typical Devin fashion he didn't announce his arrival and text her to come meet him outside.  Oh, no, that would have been too easy.

Gerault answered the door and there stood Devin with a cheeky grin on his face.  "Hi, I'm here for Lona."

"Lona," Gerault asked in his deep, rich, french, romancy novella voice.  Devin half expected a a mysterious wind to whip through his hair and his washboard abs to accidentally break through his shirt.

"Yeeeeaaah..."  Devin said slowly.  He raised his hand. "Bout yay tall, looks like a dude, cries a lot?"

Gerault raised an eyebrow and was considering just slamming the door.  Devin's reputation for cruelty and emotional spear fishing was damn near legendary in Shelly, but still he gave pause.  The very fact that he was on the porch asking for Lona was far more interesting.  "You're not funny," he said with that accent of his.  "She's has enough on her mind without people like you tormenting her."

"Tormenting?"  Devin retorted.  "C'mon dude, do I look like I make house calls?  We have a date today."

"I'm sorry," he honestly seemed confused.  "A date?"

"Don't worry," Devin chuckled.  "It's strictly sexual.  Heading out to Great Falls so no one will recognize us, have her home safe and no worries.  Did you want us to maybe try and find the Old Spice commercial you've obviously been separated from, orrr...?"

[z-Avalon Wilson]

“At least be a gentleman and buy the condoms,” Gerault said in a tone that his kids would know was far too calm. Ignoring the Old Spice comment, he turned to a box by the door, clicking a button. “Lona, Devin Jauntsen is here to pick you up for a date.”

“A fucking what! Jesus Christ, tell him I’m c-- that I’ll be right there. Fuck--” The intercom clicked off sharply as Gerault gave Devin a smirk. 

“You can wait on the porch,” the older man said, then shut the door in the teen’s face.

“Nice surrender, Frenchie,” Devin muttered and found a seat on the stone bench on the porch. For five long minutes, it was just him and the soft sounds of nature around the Wilcox house; it was far enough from town that the sounds of human habitation was far away. 

He was engaged in a staredown with a curious bird when an irritated Lona opened the door. “A date?” she asked icily. “Rescind that right now, or I’m telling every person in school that you did take me on a date. With flowers and you cried at the romcom we saw.”

For a long moment, her “date” was silent. She raised her eyebrows in a clear well? question. “Can you?” Devin asked, standing up and turning to face her, hands in his pockets. “Can you actually admit to the whole school that we went out together? To being one of my conquests?”

“I’ll find the strength,” she growled, crossing her arms. “You can’t do it without tarring yourself with a brush of ‘dating the man-girl’.”

“That’s Sean.”

Lona rolled her eyes. “You’re the literal worst, Jauntsen. Can we please stop the bullshit and get going?”

[Jaunt]

Devin laughed.  "Yeah, but I'm pretty.  C'mon."  He nodded towards the bike.

"Okay, a few things.  Quick lesson.  Lean with me, not against the bike, I'll go slow.  You'll get it.  Second," he handed her the extra helmet, the one that smelled like Tawny.  Sweet, gorgeous, beautiful, perfect, firm, busty, ten thousand squats a day... Tawny.  "Helmet isn't optional, the reach around is, you do a good job, I might buy you dinner."

"Fuck you, Jauntsen."  Avalon snapped.  She had enough to deal with when it came to the other guy trying to extort sex from her, she didn't need it from this douche nozzle too.

"Jesus Christ, Avalon.  Remove that stick from your ass.  I'm only kidding."  He shook his head and straddled the bike.  He nodded for her to get on behind him.  "You need to lighten up, girl.  Seriously.  This shit is not that critical."  She sat on and just plopped down behind him, realizing that holding him was like tantamount to hugging a shit pile of human thoughts and irritating quips.  With a sigh Devin reached behind him, grasped her wrists, pulling up and around him tightly like he was cinching a Lona belt.  "Oh, but this next thing I'm not joking about..."

"What," she hissed from inside the helmet.

"Hold on."  His eyes narrowed as his perceptions reached out.  The road seemed to stretch on forever and all the secrets of distance were lain bare before him.  The Bike took off like a bullet from a gun.  The moment he hit I-15 he really opened her up and Lona held on for dear life.  "Lean with it!" he shouted.

He swerved the bike back and forth, weaving it gently on the open road to Lona could get a feel for what he meant and how it worked.  He leaned, then she leaned with him and the bike responded like it was an extension of their movements.  "There y'go!  Ready?"

"For what?!"  She shouted back.

"To go fast!" He swerved the bike past a car going the speed limit like it was parked.

"I thought we were going...," she tried to reply but her brain demanded she hold him tighter instead and at that moment was convinced this was the only way he could get women to touch him.  He opened her up and they were gone like the Millennium Falcon.  Like Grand Theft Auto they were like a blur in the road as traffic was nothing more than a playground for them.  For anyone normal it would have easily been a disaster but Devin's new spatial awareness his control of the bike was flawless and his acuity at avoiding any obstruction was uncanny at best.  Lona was either vomiting in her helmet (which was fine, because he didn't wear that one), or having the time of her life back there as the speedometer hit 81... 87... 94... 97... 103...

He let it play at high speed for only a little bit then allowed the coast down slower and slower, announcing a speed trap wasn't too far.  Like with Sean though, the trip took an amazingly short amount of time than what Lona remembered it taking in the past...

[z-Avalon Wilson]

81 

The Ducati shot forward. Lona gulped in fear and established a death grip on Devin. Her hands spread wide, her fingers clutched at his leanly muscled torso over his shirt. Her stomach had been left behind with the first burst of speed, and her heart skipped a beat -- or three.

87

If he gets me killed-- Lona couldn’t even finish the thought. It was the least her mother deserved, but not anyone else. Leaving little Felix behind to navigate yet another loss hurt. If Devin killed her, she was going to find a way to haunt him for life!

94

Adrenaline flooded her system and thoughts of death were washed away by hormones. Suddenly, her heart wasn’t pounding in fright but delight, and her lips split in a wide grin. Silently, she urged, Faster!

97

Devin complied with her command, whipping past cars. When they shot around a sports car with tinted windows, Lona glanced at it as they zoomed around, and caught sight of them in the reflection. They looked like something out of a movie, like a scene from Top Gun. She was on a hot motorcycle, snuggled tight to a hot guy, and zipping through traffic like an untouchable god. In another car, a kid stared wide-eyed at them, face full of awe and envy. If she stopped thinking about it, she could pretend that she wasn't wrapped around Devin Jauntsen.

103

Where their bodies touched, warmth spread from Lona into Devin. It could have been excitement or arousal, but it was pleasant. It felt like the summer sun, or a heating pad on a sore muscle. Lona had no idea of her unconscious use of power, but as it flowed through him, minor aches faded into nothing. Only gentles tingles of sensation remained.

Too soon for Devin’s passenger, the outskirts of Great Falls built up around the bike. Devin brought the speed down to something disappointingly appropriate. After the mad drive to Great Falls, the semi-sedate pace felt flat. Devin drove to a Best Buy.

He parked the bike, climbed off and pulled off his helmet. Lona remained on the bike for a second, not sure her legs were going to support her yet. Pulling off her helmet, Devin could see she was trying not to smile. After a second of smirking at her, she cracked. “Fine, I admit it,” she said, smiling happily, “that was awesome.”

[Jaunt]

"She lives," he said with a laugh.  "Not too hard when you give it a fair chance, huh?  Looks good on you.  You should wear it more often."

"What?" Avalon flushed slightly as Devin seemed to compliment her but quickly remembered who she was with and prepared to defend herself.  "Life?"

"No, you're smile.  C'mon," he nodded his head in the direction of the store and turned about, never noticing her reddening face.

Devin knew nothing about video equipment, except he wanted to install some in his closet, pointing at his bed, so he relive Junior year over and over when he was well into his fifties.  They took a few moments to walk around and look at a few things as Devin made off, and usually perverse, comments about what he could use some of this stuff for.  Lona would never look at a computer mouse the same way again.  In fact, they were ruined for her.  Forever.  The walked through the video section, which really was no longer thing in the digital age.  It was mostly small web style cameras for setting all over the home but thankfully Sony made a several professional camcorder style digital models with built in storage.  The blue shirt was quick to approach them and she smiled.  "Hey, what can I help you guys with?"

"Yeah, hi," Devin spoke first and Lona immediately knew it was a mistake.  Her brain was still reeling from the charm he'd displayed a moment ago so decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.  "We're looking to make a few bucks online... which of these has an awesome battery life but high speed recording?  See, I have amazing stamina but I just go at it like a jackrabbit.  Viewers are getting nothing but blurs, we were looking to step up our game, y'know?"

Lona's eyes widened in horror as the Blue Shirt simply stood there in awkward silence, unsure what to say next.  Devin's expression couldn't have said he was more serious if he tried.  He looked intently at the Blue Shirt, waiting for her experienced and knowledgeable recommendation.

Spoiler

Poker Face, Skilled Liar and Lying specialty... Devin messes with people for fun, like a skilled comedian.

 

[z-Avalon Wilson]

He… complimented me? My smile. The Sadist of Shelly. What the fuck alternate universe did I just fall into? Lona stared after Devin’s sauntering back before scrambling after him and catching up. She felt her cheeks burning, and hoped that the cause of them didn’t notice. As she focused on electronics, she felt herself cooling down and settling into the excitement of getting the gear she needed.

Then Devin ruined that. Because that’s what he did. He was a ruiner. A destroyer. A human Apocalypse. The Fifth Horseman: Devin. 

Lona’s eyes closed as her brain immediately began to write an obituary. Devin Maria Jauntsen, age 16, died at the Best Buy in Great Falls, murdered by a classmate. Devin leaves behind a twin sister, his parents, and various family members. His murderer, Avalon Wilson, will not be charged for her crime as everyone understands the desire to murder Devin.

Responses flicked through her mind, all rejected as the kind of replies that would mean he won. In fact, there was no way he didn’t win -- even ignoring him and protesting would just make him the delightful scamp in his own mind. 

Lona had watched a lot of football with her dad, though she’d been sitting in his room staring at the television while he watched. He’d enjoyed sharing that with her, and she had never told him how much it bored her. She’d asked the occasional question to show interest and he’d explained the theory, then said, ”If you can’t beat the line, just go straight up the middle. Even if you only take a yard, it’s still a yard closer to the goal.” After that, he’d used it as an idiom to convince her to make even tiny progress, or to claim a small victory in the face of bad odds.

Lona opened her eyes and smiled with false perkiness, seeming to pop out of her embarrassment coma. “Oh, yes, and we want good audio, too.” She tucked her arm through Devin’s and added, “I want to be able to hear his sphincter groaning under the strain of a double fisting.”

The saleswoman paled further, her mouth falling open. “I’m… sorry?”

“Are you?” Lona asked, arching an eyebrow and channeling her best “Queen Bee Clara dealing with the slows” imitation. “I mean, we’ve been very clear about what we need for the video camera. Can you help us or not?”

“I… can’t.” The woman started to back away. “I’ll, uh, getmymanager!” She spun and was gone.

Lona glared up at Devin. “I can be rude and gross, too. Can you be normal for the length of this transaction or do I need to buy a ball gag?”

[Jaunt]

"Gross?"  Devin honestly seemed both shocked and impressed(!?)  "Avvie, that was awesome!  Did you see the look on her face?  You were brilliant."  He peeked about to see where she ran off too and then turned to face Lona, giving her a wink.  "Just play a long.  Oh, and yes to the ball gag.  A pink one, though.  I wanna be pretty."

"Devin, I am not-," she attempted a protest but Devin quickly bombarded with a volley of 'shhh's as the manager was approaching them.

"Uh, hi." 'Daryl' approached them with body language that said he had no idea how to handle this situation.  "So, uh, Casey mentioned that, you uh..."

"Need a video camera, for online posting," Devin started in.  "My girl here is a Siren.  Has a voice like a comforter fresh from a warm dryer on the morning of a snow day and you know it's Netflix time.  So you boil up a bit of hot chocolate for yourself and you get ready to..."  Devin narrowed his eyes at the guy.  "...you look like an Arrow guy."

Daryn nodded and laughed in that way nerds laughed (Lona, you know...).  "Yeah... Felicity is so hot."

"Okay," Devin agreed with a single nod, obviously not know who 'Felicity' was, but the dude was completely eating out of Devin's hand!  "Well, that's what her voice is like.  Warm comforters, hot chocolate, Netflix, and Felicity.  It's like we were telling... Casey?  See, we need something with better sound quality.  The RCA on her older model is just dying, or already dead, and it just keeps jackrabbiting in and out with decent sound or god awful static.  It keeps ruining takes."

Devin held out his hands together, fist over fist like he was holding a sword or hose.  "And here I am trying to double fist this length of cable to keep it stabilized so the sound stays in and frankly, the whole thing is one pain in the sphincter at this point.  We figured upgrade, right?  Spend a little money on her hopes and dreams.  If only to piss the parents off.  They hate that we're dating.  Well off suburban rich kid with a Devinsexual neo-goth girlfriend... we're so edgy.  So, whatcha got, Daryl?  I wanna get her music out there for the world to hear, bro.  Hook us up."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Daryl smiled and motioned for them to follow him while shooting a look at Casey.

Devin stepped out in front of Lona but spun on his heel to face her with a wicked smile and a waggle of the eyebrows.  He shot he another wink and took her hand to lead her to where Daryl was.  Just a few minutes later they were walking out of the store.  Lona was swinging an oversized Best Buy bag and Devin was chuckling.

"Man, I love messing with retail people,"  He sighed in relief.  "Not the food industry though... they'll spit in your meal.  Yer not so bad, Avvie, when you relax a bit.  You're always wound so tight how do you not burst?  You have two years of High School left, girl, why do you wanna spend it walking around with some mopey 'Never Been Kissed' malaise hovering over you?"

[z-Avalon Wilson]

Evil. He’s pure evil. I was joking about the Horseman thing, but I should have been serious. 

It was hard to focus on that when he took her hand, though. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with the sudden intimacy of the gesture. She’d never held someone’s hand in a sexual way, and it felt weird and nice, like she was going to jump out of her skin and melt all at the same time. The charmed manager sold them a high-end personal use camera, making it the most expensive thing she owned. Devin just whipped out a credit card like it was no big deal. She was three seconds from forgetting it was the Devin that had terrorized her and her friends for years. Then he asked her why she was so mopey. 

“I don’t know,” she said with icy airiness, “it might have had something to do with my father dying. Tends to bum most people out.”

Devin waved his hand. “I’m not talking about the past, I get the dying father thing. I mean why do you want to spend the rest of high school like that?”

“I don’t, Devin,” Lona frowned at him. “My performance at the fair, the one that was a ‘pity concert’, was my-- You know what? You don’t care, so I’m not going to bother. But I’m done with being talked down to, or comforted, or handled, or being told what to do. That’s why I told you to stop protecting us at the fair. I’m done with letting other people protect me. If that means Chet and his Band of Merry Shitheads hurts me, then that’s what happens. I’ll deal with it. But I gave my dad four years of my life, and now I wanna deal with life on my own terms. I want to be my own person.

“And despite your perceptions, I want to be happy, I do.” Lona put a gentle hand on the soft leather of the Ducati’s seat. “I want a boyfriend, and to have fun. I wanna do all the high school stuff.” She smiled at him, only somewhat aware that her lips were curved into a coy, inviting smile. “So, I guess you just wait, ‘Devie’, before you decide I don’t like to have fun.”

[Jaunt]

"Jesus, Avvie, I'm not 'handling you," he huffed, becoming mildly frustrated.  "I'm trying to talk to you.  Get to know you.  I know that I treated you guys like shit, I do.  No big revelations there but damn it Avalon, I'm trying here.  Do you know why I decided to stop messing with you guys?  Because I came to realize in only a few simple acts of kindness that my sister and me, despite being surrounded by people who adored us... had zero friends.  Nadda.  Not a one.  No one who we could rely on to get our back."

He handed her her helmet and picked up his own from the seat.  "I'm not talking down to you, comforting you or telling you what to do.  I do think you're wrong though.  While I think it's admirable to want to protect yourself, and I think you should, you can't go through life smacking hands aside.  Those people bother you because love you.  It gets tiring, I know, but they love you all the same."

"I'm trying here, Avvie," he slid his helmet on.  "That's what I'm trying to say.  I'm trying."

Spoiler

If Devin takes Lona to the music store, turn to to post 56.

If Devin takes Lona to lunch before doing more shopping, turn to post 91.

 

[z-Avalon Wilson]

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Lona moved to stand beside him on his bike and tapped on the helmet. “Take it off.”

“I can never resist when a woman says that,” Devin purred, pulling it off. “Just the helmet or do I keep going?”

“You’re trying, and I believe you. So in the interest of trying on my end, I’d like to pull an After-School Special,” Lona said, trying to ignore how sexy he looked straddling that damned bike. As she tried to beat down her hormones, she offered her hand and said, “My name is Lona, and I wanna be your friend.”

Devin looked down at her hand and back up at her. “I’m not doing that. That’s lame.”

“Awww, don’t you want to be my friiiieeeeeeend?”

He jammed his helmet back on. “I’m going to stop trying unless you put on that helmet and get in the bitch seat.” 

“You say the sweetest things, Devie,” Lona said with faux sweetness. She straddled the bike, struggled on the helmet, and adjusted the bag. “Ready.”

“Tell me where.”

“Um--” Realizing she was hungry, she said, “You wanna eat? I can treat, if you don’t want something stupid like Red Lobster. Personally, I like Burger King, for I am but of the commonfolk.”

[Jaunt]

Devin scoffed.  "We are not doing Booger Fling.  When was the last time you had something other than Bunnies or McDonalds?"

"Uh," Lona leaned her head over to see around his helmet.  "Not everyone has a Ducati to drive down to Great Falls every time they want a hundred dollar steak, Jauntsen."

"Yeah, poor sods."  Devin chuckled and Lona jabbed him playfully in the ribs.  He flinched and laughed, it was almost they were friends... which felt as weird as weird could possibly get for Lona.  "I gotchu, now you have me in the mood for steak."

Ten minutes later they got off the bike in the parking lot of Cody Bill's Steakhouse.  It was a little place but popular on the weekends and one of only a few restaurants in Great Falls that served a decent steak.  Lona gave the place a wary eye and looked at Devin.  It seemed nice enough, but she really hadn't been out and enjoyed herself since... well, you know.

"Devin, I don't know..." She set the helmet gently on the bike seat.

"Would you relax?"  He chuckled.  "Loo, I told Old Spice this was a 'date', right?  I can't very well take you to Burger King and make you pay for it."  He 'pffft'd'.  "C'mon, I'm a douche, not a barbarian."

"But we're not dating!" She retorted, swiftly.  She paused and suddenly found herself confused.  After all this was Devin she was with.  She was starting to realize she could spend time in the Cheshire Cat's mind it'd make more sense than the Prince of Shelly's.  She scrunched up her face at him as she asked, "Are we?"

"No," Devin said defensively.

"Good."

"Good."

"Fine.  Just making sure, because you make absolutely no sense half the time, Devie, and the other half you're being a dick."  She said with a touch of practiced snark.  "And for that, you can buy me a steak."  She walked past him, patting his chest twice as she did.  She didn't catch the smirk on his face while he nodded to her small victory.

Lona rolled her eyes as Devin checked out their server.  A college aged brunette who, in Lona ever widening chasm of low self esteem, had everything she didn't.  Toned legs, a butt that looked great in the jeans the was wearing, perfect hips, a great body, a flirty smile and, as Devin would have probably added... hair.  She couldn't fault the girl.  It wasn't her fault she was born beautiful but it didn't make it feel any more fair.  Devin and people like Devin never made it any easier, that was for sure.

As always, Devin seemed oblivious to what he was doing.  Looking at the server like a wolf in a cartoon, she was waiting for his tongue to just unroll onto the table.  He scooped up his menu and flipped through it til he got to the big steaks.  He peered over his and saw that she looked distracted.

"What's up?"  He asked.  His eyes followed hers just before she came back to him.  "You want me to get her number?  I'll get you the hook up."

[z-Avalon Wilson]

“I can get my own numbers, thanks.” Lona tilted her head. “Unless you need to use me as a smokescreen to get them for yourself. Then I can be a good wingman for ya.”

“Do I look like I need help getting girls’ numbers?” Devin asked indignantly. He gestured from his lap (or what Lona was pretending was just his lap) to his face and back down again. 

“Look, no, but when you open your mouth, we ladies have a pretty good read on you,” Lona told him with a smirk. She dropped her eyes to the menu, looking over the offerings.

“If that’s true, then why do I get so many numbers?” he challenged.

Lona peered up at him and casually shrugged before going back to the menu. “Low standards? Seriously, just because we know you’re, uh, in the general ‘you’re’, bad news doesn’t mean we don’t want a bit of the nasty ourselves. It is 2019. Girls can like sex, openly.”

“Like you do?” he asked, grinning when her gaze jerked back to him.

“I don’t talk about sex with my friends,” Lona said firmly, “at least not at the level of friendship we’re at.”

Devin clearly had more to say but the waitress came back and he turned to her with a smile. By the time they had placed their orders, Wendy’s number was in his phone and they knew that she was off all next weekend. Devin gave Lona a look of pure victory.

“You know,” Lona said, leaning back in the booth, “if you really wanna get under Gerault’s skin, just fuck with Adele. My mother. She’s the weak link in that particular chain.”

“Why does he care?” Devin asked curiously. “I mean, unless he’s banging her?”

“Ew, gross, I don’t wanna think about that.” Lona swallowed back bile. “But seriously, she’s the one who’s going to react to you ‘dating’ me. I’ll probably get grounded if you say the right thing in front of her. Like whatever you said to Gerault that didn't get you invited to wait inside the house or sent 'round the back way.”

“You sound weirdly okay with grounding,” Devin noted, smirking a little. “Looking to upset the adults?”

“Adele, yes. She deserves it. Lisa probably, too, to a lesser extent. Not Gerault, but honestly, the most I expect from him now is an appointment to get birth control.” The waitress set down her salad and left as Lona watched her go. “The night of the fair, after my big show, Adele was all ‘how dare you!’ parental outrage the next morning. Gerault gave me whiskey and talked to me about why I sang what I did. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“My favorite subject.”

“Right,” Lona laughed. “So tell me what music you like. I wanna know what my friend likes to hear.”

“Neither of those were a question,” he pointed out. 

Lona sighed in mock irritation, waving her fork around. “Are you like this with Marissa, too, or are we non-siblings just lucky?”

[Jaunt]

"I hate to sound cliche'," Devin said, mocking an accent for the word cliche'.  "But Marissa and I are twins.  We think alike, talk alike, we're one peron in two different bodies sometimes.  We fight and argue, sure, but we're close.  It's always been her and I against everyone.  We have a bond."  He sighed at the realization of Marissa being brought up so he felt obligated to clear the air.  "And, since I have to go through this all my "friends", he air quoted.  "Let's cover the basics.  No I've not had sex with her, and yes I realize you 'totally want to'.  No we've not practiced kissing with each other, and yes, I've seen her naked.  There."

Lona laughed quietly.  "You know some messed up people."

"Yes," he replied with Ryan Reynolds, deadpan swiftness.  "Yes, I do."  He set his menu down, having decided on what he wanted and looked back at her.  "So, spin me up... who is Adele and Lisa?  You're talking like I should know these people.  I'm assuming Gerault is Old Spice, easy enough.  Oh," he snapped his finger as he remembered something.  That charming smirk of his popped on his mug letting her know a quit was imminent.  "We need to get condoms too.  I told him we'd be safe."

[z-Avalon Wilson]

Lona laughed at herself. “So here I was, so self-centered that I assume that everyone knows all the players in my personal little drama without me needing the backstory, only to be talking to the one person so self-centered they haven’t bothered to pay attention to it.”

Devin grinned at her evaluation of the situation. “It’s good to learn things about yourself. Good for the soul.”

“Anyway, Adele is my mom. Lisa is Clara’s mom. And I assume Gerault, Clara’s dad, is the guy you call ‘Old Spice’. Why do you call him that?” she asked. 

“Because he looks like he came out of an Old Spice commercial. Can’t you see it?” he asked.

“Maybe but he’s so much like a dad that I don’t really see that about him,” Lona shrugged. “Mostly, he looks like the guy who took in my family when we needed help. Lately, he’s been more of a parent then Adele.”

“What’s she doing?” he asked.

Lona opened her mouth, paused and started again. “Nothing. Well, nothing with me. She’s got her new shiny, gross thing she’s doing now, and I’ve been shoved out to the pool house with Clara so we’re not getting in the way. It’s like she’s already forgotten Dad, and I know she hasn’t, but it’s hard when I’m so fucking sad and she’s all giggles and smiles and happiness. If I try to talk about him, she’ll pretend to listen, but she won’t really bother to hear.”

Lona stopped and said, “So, this isn’t a therapy session, and I don’t want to bore the guy about to buy me a steak. What’s it like being Devin? And don’t just say ‘awesome’ because I know you’re going to say awesome.”

[Jaunt]

"No, no," Devin gestured to her as she commented about therapy.  "I get it.  I'm a sibling, remember?  Marissa and me are the only people we have to vent our problems and frustrations to.  Under the jokes, quips and pranks, I'm actually a pretty practical guy.  If you need to vent, vent.  I understand.  I'd implode if I hadn't the chance to complain to Mari or hit the mats once in awhile."

"Look, not to push any buttons, but, I know she's your mom and all, but let her do her.  People handle the grief thing in their own ways, at least, that's what I've been told.  You love her, she's your mom, I know, but you can't spend your time and energy on a person who doesn't appreciate it.  Let her be, focus on you.  Live your best life, because it's the only one you get."

He shrugged and smirked.  "I'm not just awesome, I'm self made awesome.  Kinda had to be," he shrugged.  "Our Mom and Dad hate each other.  Always fighting and arguing to the point where my dad is usually passed out in the den's recliner most nights while our mom is is using prescription sleep aids to get rest.  Nothing Marissa and I have ever done has been our choice at home.  Our parents were always deciding everything for us, from mom wanting to get us to be child starts to the dancing and gymnastics and singing and the pageants."

"You were in pageants?"   Lona laughed in absolute shock.  Devin laughed with her.

"Yep, twins rake doubled your chance to win.  They have male and female and sibling ones.  We were doing commercials, too." Their server approached the table and the couple asked a few questions of her and placed their order.  With a smile and a flirtatious grin at Devin she left him and his 'cousin' to their conversation.  "Uh, where was I?"

Lona swallowed the mouthful of soda swiftly and raised her head enough to say, "Commercials."

"Right.  Yeah, we did a few commercials but mostly we were being marketed at pageants to get a break.  I mean, we're good looking siblings, let's face it.  So of course we needed talent which came school, then hours and hours of after school classes, be it dance or singing lessons, instruments, you name it.  But we never had a life of our own.  Celebrity diets and acting classes and pageants... mom wanted us to make it big so we could be a billion dollar enterprise.  Then we moved here.  I hate this place, but I'm thankful that Shelly has zero cultural foundation, I finally get a life.  Through all of it though, Marissa and I were all we had to lean on, our parents didn't get it."

Oh," he waggled a finger at her in the recollection of something.  "I like al kinds of music.  Depends on what I'm doing.  Lil bit o' Tech N9ne when I'm working out, some rock n' rap keeps the blood moving and the mind angry.  Some pop and R&B when I'm chilling in my room drawing or fapping to porn.  Country for the love songs... bitches love love songs.  The playlist in my car has all kinds of shit on it."

"You have a car too?"  She honestly could believe privileged this kid was.  She shook her head in mild disbelief although she didn't know what she didn't expect that.

"Well, yeah, I can't be expected to ride my bike in the snow,"  Devin looked at her like ever sixteen year old lived in a half a million dollar home and had a car and a motorcycle.

She shook her head chuckling a bit.  "I'm sorry, it's just you're so nonchalant about it, some of us," she patted her chest.  "Still actually pedal to school each day."

"How droll," he said mockingly with a slight aristocratic accent.  "You poor sods.  How do you do it."

[z-Avalon Wilson]

“Most people put one foot on the top pedal and push down, then repeat,” Lona said with a cheeky grin. “Mostly, we poor sods do it because we don’t have a choice to do anything else. My mom can’t afford a car, so I bike.”

“I theoretically understand not having enough money--” he started.

Lona waved her hand in the air. “But you’ve never felt not having enough money. Since living with the Wrights’, I kinda understand that. Like, you buying this stuff for me is just a nice thank you to you. For me, it’s years of saving and effort to get anything this nice, but now I can start to make quality YouTube and maybe get some traction on making a name for myself. So what is a cool bit of gratitude to you is going to maybe change everything for me.”

“Cool. You have a good voice and stage presence, just stop dumping your purse all over the stage and you’ll get further,” Devin said, ever with the helpful advice.

Sighing, Lona said, “The Fair wasn’t my usual way of doing things. It was me telling the world that I’m doing my own thing now. Look, for years my performances were fundraisers for my dad. Clara and I played safe, popular songs. No making waves, no offending anyone, just fun, light-hearted songs. And that’s what everyone expects now. So I pulled a Miley. I just couldn’t get a wrecking ball on my budget.”

“So I was right,” Devin said, “I mean, of course I was, I just wanted to be sure you knew that. You did wanna whine to everyone.”

“Sure I did,” Lona said. “I’d sucked up caring for my family for years. No bitching, no whining, just doing what had to be done and putting Dad first. That was six years of repression right there pouring over the haybales. You should come to my next show, I’ll be back to being entertaining.”

“Safe and boring,” Devin said.

Her eyes twinkled with impish glee. “I didn’t say that. Just entertaining.”

[Jaunt]

"Wrecking ball?"  Devin smiled as their server stopped by to refill Devin's water.  Lana noticed she didn't get a refill and wondered if she agreed to sleep with her if she could get better service too?  "Shoulda called me, I know a guy.  I'll stick to my original opinion, that your last show could have been a lot better, but if you throw a another bash, I'll check it out.  But I'm not buying swag unless you sign it, and dance on stage in slutty outfits."

"Do I look like Ariana Grande?"  She huffed at him.

Devin snorted.  "Hell no."

She threw up a finger at him and offered him a dirty look.  "Fuck you."

"What?"  Devin seemed completely at a loss as to what he did wrong, never realizing the way he delivered his answer was easily hurtful to someone like Lona who wore their emotions on their sleeve.  "Jesus, what did I say?  I was agreeing with you."

"Yeah, obviously," she fired back.  "It's bad enough I had to deal with you calling me a dude these last few years, but you don't have to remind me of how much of a jerk you are in the middle trying to have lunch me.  I mean, come on."

Devin shook his head and raised his hands up in an attempt to calm her down.  "Lona, chill, I wasn't implying that at all.  Look, I never thought you looked like a dude.  That was the button I needed to press to get you and keep you miserable.  I many different times did I pick on you before finally settling on 'dude' or 'bro'?  So many, but the moment I started with those, you immediately took the defensive and I knew I had you.  That was the button I needed to press.  Bully Logic 101, sweetheart."

"What does that even mean?"  Lona asked as the server arrived and filled up her glass of water and walked off.  "About time," she muttered.

"Lona, I don't think you're unattractive.  Hell, I let you ride on my bike.  If you were an uggo that never woulda happened.  To be honest, you're not bad looking, now that you've committed to a whole haircut and decided to take a little pride in your appearance.  And black lipstick?"  He chuckled.  "Every woman is hotter with black lipstick.  You've easily gone to a seven, seven and a half if you keep the black lipstick thing.  I'd press for a weak eight, but I haven't seen you in a bathing suit.  Don't tell anyone I scored you so high, I'll deny everything.  Point is, you're hotter than you give yourself credit for.  I mean, you got it, work it.  Who cares what I, or anyone thinks or calls you."

[z-Avalon Wilson]

Lona sat back at the table, her expression stunned. Her mind immediately started to play that stupid Bruno Mars song that Lona had always known wasn’t about her. Devin had just shaken her world to its core, because to her, she’d always been the Girl With the Voice but not the one with the looks. The makeup and looks she’d chosen at the start of summer had been to make her mom shudder. 

The change since the fair had been her therapist’s suggestion. ”Find your own style. Your own look. I can honestly say that I am happiest when I am dressing for myself, not to impress someone or to make them angry. Do what makes you happiest.” 

She’d done it because she’d been tired of her old look, but she didn’t realize that her therapist had actually been right. Dr. Calon had been the first adult to be right about something. It was also awesome the way that the psychologist seemed to listen to her and tried to be honest and open with her. 

“Earth to Lona?” Devin asked, snapping his fingers in front of her eyes. She jerked and blinked and he added, “I used to women looking at me like that, but usually after the sex.”

“Ew,” Lona said instinctively.

“Right, whatever you need to tell yourself,” Devin smirked.

Rolling her eyes, Lona said, “Not all women want to have sex with you.”

“Sure they do. You do.” He grinned at her sputter of outrage. “C’mon, I’m me.”

“The ‘me’ that used to find buttons to push and hurt people who were hurting enough without his influence,” Lona pointed out. “The ‘me’ that still thinks it’s hilarious to mess with people stuck at their jobs just trying to earn money.”

“I wasn’t the only one,” Devin pointed out. “Hypocrite much?”

“Oh no, I hate that I decided that scoring a point against you was more important than not making her day worse.” Lona frowned a little. “I shouldn’t have, but I did, and that’s on me.” She gave him a crooked smile. “Apparently, you bring out the worst in me. Or just inspire the worst.”

[Jaunt]

"There's no such thing as the worst or the best in anyone.  At our core there is only us and the choices we make.  You chose to have a little fun, yes at someone's expense,  but really, do you think she's perfect?  You think she's never told a lie, played a joke on a friend, had a one night stand?"  Devin smiled and leaned into the table, taking one of Lona's hands into his own.  She wanted to pull it away but that smile, the warmth.  "You're just you.  Good, bad, they're irrelevant.  You could say killing is wrong, then I could argue why it might be necessary.  I could argue cheating is wrong, you could argue when when it might not be, and we could go on and on..."

"We had a little fun, we messed with someone, time goes on.  We're not covered in her blood and running from the law so I think morally we're still in the green.  And for the record, I'd never hurt anyone with one of my pranks, except Sean, that boy takes atomic wedgies like his ass was made to be abused."

He let go of her hand and folded his arms on the table.  "Look, who cares as long as you're not hurting people, that's what I'm trying to do things differently by hanging with you guys.  So, relax a little, Avvie.  We're not here for a long time, we're here for a good time.  Seize the day, or initiative... or whatever to dice heads do."

[z-Avalon Wilson]

“Huh, the world according to Devin,” she murmured, smiling fondly at him. 

“Surprisingly deep, isn’t it?” her handsome tablemate asked smugly. “I have layers.”

“You do, I’m surprised,” Lona admitted. “There are new sides to you all the time. So, life is short, have fun. That’s the Dao of Devin?”

“Yep,” he said, “it’s served me well.”

“My own philosophy is similar,” she said, “but it’s basically life is short, tell people you love them.”

“Understandable, if a bit Hallmark,” he replied. “How’s that working out for you?”

Lona frowned as she thought of Cade. “When I actually follow through on it, I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, Avie, are you telling me you pine for someone but you can’t say how your feel?” Devin shook his head. “Here I had higher hopes for you.”

“I’ve learned.” Lona said softly. “Next time I’m interested in a guy, I’ll make sure to tell him before-- before it’s too late.”

“I see,” Devin said, “you know, if you wanted to tell me about your feelings for me, you could just say it. You didn’t have to make up this long, dramatic story.” She stared at him then started laughing. He sighed dramatically and teased, “You know, if I didn’t understand that you cope with stress by laughing, I’d be insulted.”

“Devin, we’ve just started to get to know each other,” Lona said, reaching over to pat his hand. “I need to know a man’s mind as well as his pretty face. Once I learn your charming personality and fall hopelessly in love with you, you’ll be the first to know.”

[Jaunt]

"I'll bet."  He smirked at her sarcasm.  "So come on, who's this guy you like?"  He prodded.

"No."  She shook her head.  "I'm not telling you, you'll make it some kind of joke and I don't want to deal with that."

"No jokes, seriously, I make joke one about it, I'm curious now, more than anything.  I can seems to place your type."  He rubbed his chin like he was deep in thought.  "Gotta be the burn outs, or the gothy dudes."

She just laughed and shook he head.  "I'm not saying a damn thing."

"Fine!  Fine, keep your damnable secrets,"  Devin waved her off like she was a nuisance.  Putting the humor aside he leaned in again.  "But I will say this... tell him."

"Why?"  She scrunched up her face like like 'you done lost your mind'.

"Like I said, life is too short, time is too precious to be wasting on what could have been.  Why carry around something like regret?  I mean, that's with you forever, a missed kiss, a lost moment.  The things we say, we can never take back but it's far better to say it that go through life wondering what might have been.  I say tell him.  So what if he's not interested or has a girlfriend, or doesn't like black lipstick.  It's not your loss, it's his.  You went into the conversation without him, you leave the conversation with out him... congrats, you broke even.  No gain, but no loss either."

The server came by and slid their plates onto the table while Devin offered a few flirtatious smiles her way.  He grabbed his utensils and raised his eyebrows in excitement as the food looked amazing and he was starving.

"Tell him," he whispered creepily the moment she tried to take her first bite.

[z-Avalon Wilson]

Lona choked and coughed. “Damn you, Jauntsen, this steak is too nice to be coating the inside of my sinuses.”

“Then promise me,” he demanded. 

The two teens stared at one another, a contest of wills that the former bully was a little surprised was a contest at all. “What if it’s you?” Lona asked as she picked up her fork and tried again. “What if I’m turned on by bra snapping and button-pushing?”

He peered at her with narrowed eyes, studying with some inscrutable sense on he knew. “No,” he said, “I mean, I would understand totally if it were, but you’d be acting differently if it were.”

“How would I be acting?” Lona asked, just dying to know how Devin thought women in love with him behaved.

“The usual.” He took a bite, swallowed and elaborated, “Drool, ‘accidental’ flashings, inability to form complete sentences.”

“Right.” She was quiet for a moment. “He’s out of my league, has a girlfriend, so I do have something to lose. My pride. I can just suffer in silence and he’ll never have to know.”

Devin held up his index finger, clearly in lecture mode. “Avie, I thought you were done with silent suffering. I remember distinctly you telling me that the fair performance was Avalon rising from the ashes of her own silence.” 

Lona opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. “Damn it, Devin. You’re more irritating than normal when you’re right.”

“Yeah, it’s my burden.” He watched until she was about to eat again and he said, “Cade Allister.”

A blush bloomed across her cheeks as Lona froze rather than attempting to inhale food. Her reaction still had Devin slapping the table, saying, “I knew it!”

Lona glared at him. “Let me have it.”

He frowned at her. “What?”

“The lecture.”

“No lecture. I told ya I was just curious.” This time he let her get two bites before he said, “So, you’re going to tell him, right?”

Lona rolled her eyes. “I will strongly consider it because you asked so nicely.”

[Jaunt]

"Good," he smiled at her at his tone was warm and sincere.  Almost too out of character for him.  "Because no one is ever out of your league.  Ever."

He seemed to realize he was being more sincere than he intended and his posture shifted to more relaxed.  "I know I'm not really one to talk on human behavior, but don't ever think things like that.  Look at me.  As a gymnast I've fallen more times than I can count, finished practice with a limp, sore arm, sore ribs... but whatever maneuver I'm practicing, and failing at... it's always one more try from mastered.  Out of your League... pfft, screw that noise.  You step up, speak your mind, wait for the results.  If it doesn't go your way, walk away knowing he's missing out on the best emotional baggage sex he's ever gonna get.  His loss, girl, not yours."

He took a bite of his steam and swallowed after several savory eyerolls.  "There's plenty of good dick out there, Avie.  Get you some."  He sawed into his steak again.  "Damn this was a good idea.

[z-Avalon Wilson]

“I’m going to pretend that you said ‘the most emotional fulfilling and physically satisfying sex of his life’ instead of whatever you actually said,” Lona said, feeling her face burn again. Casual discussions of sex with hot guys were not normal for her, and she struggled to regain her equilbrium in the face of the weirdness of talking about sex with Devin, of all people. 

“Yeah, this steak is great,” she quickly agreed, eager to change the subject. “Hey, I just wanted to say… thanks.” As he focused on her -- which left her fighting the urge to blush again -- she added, “For all of this. I mean, you wanted to repay me for my kindness, but you didn’t have to get me dinner and you didn’t have to make it almost enjoyable.”

“Almost? Aw, Avie, we almost had a moment there.” Devin smiled again, a second rarely sincere smile. 

“I like to shy right up to the edge of a moment, then pull back,” Lona told him with a smirk. “Leave them wanting more.”

“And hopefully not knocked up,” Devin added with a wink. Despite her best attempt, his words brought more blood rushing to her face. “You do need some good dick.”

Determined it play off her inability to stop being embarrassed, Lona lifted her chin and asked, “Got any good recommendations?”

Devin blinked at her. “I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am, but I have experience with only one dick, and it is good.”

“I like commitment with my dicks, thanks,” Lona said, stirring the steak juices into her mashed potatoes. 

“Worked for your parents, right?” Devin said. “I mean, it just made mine fight all the time.” He stopped at the hard frown she gave her potatoes, and the vigorous fork-smashing she gave them. “Or not. Maybe you should try an emotion-free dick. See if that works for you.”

“It works for you?” Lona asked, curious.

[Jaunt]

"Well," he back-pedaled slightly.  "I won't lie and tell you I'm a one girl guy.  Right now, I'm not.  Hell, I'm sixteen, the chances of me finding the 'one' in Shelly Montana, no less, is math even Jason would laugh at."

"I have my whole life to find her, might as well practice and have some fun while I'm at it.  We both get something out of it, life goes on."  He cut a large Floret of broccoli down the stem and dipped it in his mashed potatoes, something Avie didn't even.  "I'm not saying I can't have a steady girl, just that I haven't really met one that makes wanna give up having any girl I want."

"What about Tawny?" Lona asked, curious if she could get scoop on the two and their odd way of spending time together.  "You look, act, and seem like you're dating, why deny it?"

"Tawny is... well, she loves me, like, I think she's in love with me.  She wasn't always hot, used to get teased a lot, then braces, got boobs, then, thankfully, learned to show them off," he smiled as Lona rolled her eyes.  "She like a sister to me though.  I find her attractive as hell, I'm just attracted to her.  She kissed me once, and... it didn't feel right... like I was making out with my own sister, you know?  I really like, I just can't be with her in the way she wants, so we agreed to keep it friends."

"Looks like you agreed," his date smirked.

"Yeah, I know.  I've tried hooking her up, she won't bite.  I've tried bragging about other girls around her, she's unphased.  I'm pretty sure I'm gonna just wake up one night and find that she's crawled through my window and is just doing me while I was out."

"Dude, I'm eating." She scoffed.

"Honestly, strike that, I'd kinda be down for it..."

"Dude."  Lona held her fork like she was prepared to stab him.

"Chill," he laughed.  "And don't make me out to be some ho, I'm still holding my v-card.  Shelly chicks are prudes."

"Wait, wait, wait..." she'd given up in eating for the moment.  "All that game you spit, and not once?"

"Nope.  Damn near whole county has drank from the vine but none of taken a ride.  Almost with Lori Holden over the summer, but her dad came home early from his job, guess he was sick.  Sucked because it was just her home alone all night while he worked with my dad.  Barely got out unseen, but did run two miles buck naked to where Marissa was hanging out, she have me a ride home, ah, bonding moments."

"You?"  He asked like the conversation was as natural and fluid as any topic could be.  The guy had no shame, or secrets, apparently.  "Ever almost been caught in the middle of snargleing the garthog?  Wait... you into girls to?  Serious question, because it's current year and the hair is still kinda throwing off..."

[z-Avalon Wilson]

“No, not me,” Lona said with a shrug, trying to be casual. “I’ve not almost been caught because I’ve never done anything to be caught at.”

Devin snorted. “Please don’t tell me this is a ‘never been kissed’ situation.”

Lona rolled her eyes. “I was twelve when the doctors said that my dad was going to die in four or five years. I put everything else on hold until he was-- until he didn’t need me anymore. I was going to take care of some of those ‘firsts’ at the party, but then fucking smiledons and celphoginas showed up and that plan went to shit. I mean, ideally I would have asked Cade out and then knocked that kissing thing out of the park. I hadn’t quite planned the picket fence and two-point-five kids, but… Well, I was very hopeful.”

“That thirsty?” Devin asked. Lona threw her napkin at him and her hand fell next on the knife. “Stop, stop,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I know how awesome kissing and all that is, I wasn’t being douchey. C’mon, run my words through a reverse filter before just hearing what I say. Work with me.”

“I really liked Cade and wanted him to be my boyfriend, that’s what I was hopeful about.” Lona stabbed her remaining cube of meat and cut it in half. “I figured once I got that, I could get all of the rest taken care of, in time. And I do know that I don’t need a boyfriend to get any of that. I’ve read up on stuff, just not done it.”

“Read up? On the Internet?” Devin asked, smirking. “You must be ready, then.”

“Shut up. It’s not like I can talk to any adults about it.” Lona shook her head, picturing Adele’s absolute freakout at the mere suggestion of being forced to actually parent. “I mean, yes, I got The Talk, but the talk doesn’t include stuff like how to make it fun.”

“Uh, it’s sex, it’s fun. There, did your research for you,” Devin told her, full of teenage authority backed by some experience. 

Sighing, Lona said, “Actually, it’s not that easy for girls. I get with guys it’s stroke, stroke, bloop!” She made overflowing motions with her hands on the bloop. “Girls require a bit more know-how. Our buttons are… more delicate.”

Then she blushed again as she realized what she’d actually said to Devin Jauntsen, the rich-hot-gymanist-turning-over-a-sexy-new-leaf guy.

[Jaunt]

"I dunno about that," he shrugged.  "I made Marci Stephens get there in like less than minute." He leaned in and whispered.  "Still hung around down there for twenty more cuz liked the way she moved her hips and the sounds she was making."

He sat back.  "She's in the church choir,  you know?  Pastor's daughter, voice of an angel.  Trust me."  He chuckled.  "I think it's all about how into it or the mood you're in, y'know?"

"No, I really don't," she said, turning redder the more he talked.

"Tough break with Cade," he said sincerely.  "I know how it goes to pine for a crush, and nothing come of it, Marissa too.  We've been there.  Whomever does end up getting your affection will be a damn lucky dude.  You're passionate and pretty and you'll use so little shampoo that you'll really make your budget stretch if hard times fall on ya, and that's just good planning."

He stabbed a cube of his own and popped it in his mouth like a happy hobbit, proud of his full belly and cheery humor.

"Do you always have to be such a douche," she asked.  "You're almost charming, sometimes."

"Douchery is part of my charm," he said with a cheek full of steak.

"It's still douchery."  She argued, raising a brow in arguement.

He smiled and kept chewing.  "It's charming douchery, because you're blushing, smiling, and having a harder and harder time keeping up the tough girl attitude...," his eyes grew wide in abject horror.  "Oh.  My.  God.  You're totes crushing on me... you are!  Oh, wow... sorry Cade, didn't even wait for that body to get cold... woo."

"What?!" Her face shifted to a mask of confusion and even more confusion.  "No!"

"You hussie... I think it's a fantastic idea, we'll make him so jealous."  He was just running with the idea like Deadpool with scissors.  "So, how'd it happen?  We find love under the dash board lights?  Oh, I got money, you're all leather and anti authority... we'll go the forbidden love route, like Romeo and Juliet... maybe throw in Clara for some freaky love triangle action... then you can drink poison because you can't share me but don't wanna live with out me?"  He clenched his fists in excitement.  "Oh, Cade'll be so jealous!  Up til the suicide part... then he'll be sad, probably... I mean... he hardly knows you and he's got a super hot girlfriend now... but he'll totally do like a flower wreath or something.  I'm sure it'll be very nice.  So, how you wanna spin it?"

[z-Avalon Wilson]

“I don’t want to spin it,” Lona protested, looking alarmed while blushing hard enough to make her feel feverish. 

“What? Why not?” he asked, his enthusiasm barely impacted. “It’s a great idea!”

“No, it’s not because it requires me to commit suicide!” Lona pointed out. “Also, Cade wouldn’t care if I were dead, beyond the fact that he’s a great huamn being, so compassionate and kind, that he’d be sad I was dead just because I was a person he knew who’d killed themselves.” She could even see the way he’d look: sad and regretful, mourning the loss of a human life and all the potential it had held.

“Well, that is a downside, sure,” Devin admitted. “But it’d make Cade jealous, and you might even get the v-card punched.”

“This is not Fifty Shades of Gray! Lona growled. “My virginity is not a problem that I need to get taken care of! And I don’t want Cade to be jealous. I want to date him, not hurt him.”

“Clearly he’s not giving up Cora for you,” Devin said with typical Devin bluntness. “I mean,” he continued, his hands starting to trace Cora’s measurements in the air, “have you seen her? I’d bang that so--”

“YES, Devin, I HAVE seen her,” Lona said tersely--and more loudly than she intended. Lowering her voice, she continued, “She is hot, and he’s hot, and they’re like the perfect couple, and no I don’t want Cade to feel bad that he followed his heart to the person he wants. I’d feel like a shit if I hurt him that way, you know? Also, don’t want to be dead, so please let go of whatever idea you’re cooking.”

[Jaunt]

"Cade's a tool and Cora is an idiot."  He said flatly.  "I mean really, have you heard those to, at all?  She's a complete air head and he's so wrapped up in his White Knighting that he can barely form two sentences!  The guy is a complete follower with no spine.  He'll sit around, chill, be seen a little bit then just go with the flow and agree with what everyone else thinks.  Is it because he's an athlete?  Shit, I'm an athlete.  Good looking too, and I actually have a personality.  The guy has like, nothing to offer you, Avie."  He slid his hand horizontally over his plate to emphasize his point.  "Nothing."

He casually shrugged and dismissed it.  "Heart wants what the heart wants, I guess.  Pine for him.  I won't stop ya.  I will say though that you have way too much talent, passion and drive to waste on a guy like him, but what do I know?  Good luck in your struggles, I suppose."  He sipped his water and looked at his plate, eyeballing like he would die if he took another bite.  "My 'idea' was just a joke.  You mentioned your dad and everytime you do you get this I dunno, 'aura' about you.  You try and play it off and push on, but I can tell the thought is still there, banging on the inside of your feelings begging for you to pay attention to it... I just wanted to... I dunno, distract you from that, I guess."

"I don't get why you even care what mood I'm in."  She shook her head and shrugged trying to figure him out.

"Because," he paused and leaned back in his seat, reclining and relaxing while they waited for their server.  He seemed chill, no jokes or witty quips to offer and his voice was solemn and sincere.  "Look I don't know you very well, and I certainly didn't know your dad... but... you're beautiful when you smile.  No matter how ugly you think you are, or all the negative qualities you feel you possess... you're beautiful, and don't anyone in this world tell you different.  Be awesome.  Be a force of nature and blast a swathe of wreckage through all the haters.  I heard your dad was a good guy... that's what I think he would have wanted for you.  Happiness and lots of beautiful smiles."

There was an awkward pause as he spoke to her and he seemed to suddenly realize that his puckish rogue demeanor curtain had almost fallen completely away.  He recovered quickly enough and sat upright.  "Ah, but what do I know.  Right?  I'm certainly no Cade Allister... I'm just the school bully hanging out with nerds and bunch of lame ass dice heads."

[z-Avalon Wilson]

Though Devin’s entire rant, she was trying to figure out his angle. He’d paid her enough compliments to make her want to search for the hidden camera, to see if he was setting her up Carrie-style for major embarrassment. She wasn’t terrible at reading people, and Devin wasn’t being insincere. He was being honest, which meant:

1. He thought she was hot.
2. Ergo, a hot guy found her hot.
3. He thought she was too good for Cade.
4. Ergo, a hot guy thought she was too good for the guy she had thought too good for her.

Her entire perspective shifted sharply. Lona stared at Devin, her expression the look of a woman coming to a conclusion. “You try so hard,” she said softly.

“Well, it’s usually hard,” he replied quickly.

“You are right,” she said, rising from her side of the table and sliding into the booth next to him. Devin looked a little alarmed until she leaned into him and put her arms around his chest, giving him a big hug. “You’re no Cade Allister, but I’m beginning to think that’s okay.”

His arms closed around her; Lona doubted he’d pull away from any contact with an attractive girl, unless he was leading her on for some bizarre reason. She kept her head on his chest for a moment, then sat up and pulled back. She was blushing, but smiling, too. “Don’t worry, if you want, I can go back to treating you like you’re an asshole who doesn’t give a shit, but it’s too late. I’ve seen a deeper layer to you.”

[Jaunt]

"I am an asshole," he smirked.  "But I don't have layers... get off me, you tell anyone I'm denying the whole thing and taking you off my dick pic email distro."  She smiled and raised an eyebrow at him, not believing a word of it.  With a sigh he caved and shook his head, pulling her back in.  "Fine, one more."

A while later...

The entered the music shop, which after the video camera she was certainly not expecting to end up somewhere else... but Devin insisted.  'It'd be fun', was his justification.

The place had that small business smell to it and while bass and guitars were the main instrument in stock, this place had everything.  Even a kazoo.  Who sells kazoos?  This guy, apparently.  Clyde's music had been in business for the better part sixty years and family owned the entire time.  It was tradition that whomever was running the shop for that generation, took the mantle of 'Clyde'... yes, even the women.  The current owner, Ol' Momma Clyde was onery old lady who lady who was full of spitfire and old people opinions... she an angel sheathed in the wrinkly hide of an old lady.

One thing Ol' Momma Clyde knew though was music.  She owned more vinyl than a dominatrix convention and was the only buisness in town that would only jam tracks if they could play on a turn table.  It added character to the notes, she said.  "Music is life," patrons could hear her scream.  "That's why our hearts have beats!"  Right before she pointed to the 'No Stairway' sign posted near the guitars.

As the door chime rang and the teens stepped in the five foot old lady was engaged in a Clapton/Van Halen debate for the title of Guitar God... kids these days.

"Ah!  You two!  Welcome to Clyde's,  I'm Momma Cl- Lona!  Dear me, come in and settle this... this idiot is trying to say Eddie is better than Eric..."  she waved Lona in and stopped to adjust her massive glasses.

"Holy shit... Edna Mode opened a music a shop," Devin was kind enough to point out.  Lona elbowed him.  "Ow, what?  The alien with big glasses in the new Star Wars?"  She elbowed him again... this time she kinda liked it, but the Star Wars was cute.

"Oooohhhh," she adjusted her glasses and Lona tried not to smile, she couldn't unsee Edna Mode now.  "Who's that with ya, love, hmm?  He's handsome.  Oh, if I was thirty years younger...," she winked at Devin.  "He's a keeper," she 'whispered' for everyone to hear.

"Devin, ma'am." He introduced himself, and Lona was fairly certain it was first time she'd heard him be polite.  "Cool place, you uh.... sell instruments and CDs and stuff?"

"AND STUFF!?  AND STUFF!?"  She raised her hands like it was Sunday at the pulpit.  "Oh, Lord... oh, Lord save this heathen child for he knows not what he says!  Boy, we don't sell 'and stuff'.  Out there boy, out there you can watch an artist paint on a canvas... here at Clyde's, musicians paint their picture on silence!"  She raised a brow at Lona and lowered her glasses, lowering her voice.  "He's pretty and not to bright... nice, that makes em' easy to train."  She shot her a wink.

"Now, what can I do for you two?"

"Well," Devin was about to speak, but the previous retail encounter had left Lona with reflexes like a jaguar and she quickly plastered a hand over mouth over his mouth.

[z-Avalon Wilson]

“Oh, you already know how to handle him,” Mama Clyde cooed, as Lona ground her teeth.

“Yes, we’ve already discussed the purchase of a ball gag,” Lona said as calmly as she could manage. “I need another guitar, Mama.”

The older woman looked concerned. “Oh, sweetie, did the old one give out?”

“No, just can’t have one,” Lona said, taking a firm grip on Devin’s arm so she could keep her hand on his mouth. “I was thinking about a nice Art & Lutherie Roadhouse Tennessee Red, especially if you have a used one in good shape.”

“I don’t have a used one,” Mama Clyde said, “not today. I have a new one in store. Right this way.” She led them to the wall at the back of the store where the guitar’s hung in a shining row. Lona’s hands fell off Devin as awe filled her expression. She looked like a believer in the presence of God. 

Mama Clyde selected a guitar off the wall, a sleek instrument of dark, reddish wood and handed it to Lona. Carefully cradling it in her hands, she strummed the strings and a few notes. It wasn’t the largest guitar on the wall, but it had a clear, vibrant sound. As Mama Clyde smiled proudly, Lona played a short song, testing the feel of the guitar. 

When the last note faded, she glanced at Devin. “What do you think?” she asked, her fingers stroking the strings as if soothing a nervous pet. She added quickly, “It’s not the cheapest guitar, but it’s nowhere near the most expensive and it’s a good price for the quality. If it’s too much... ” She trailed off, and forced herself to stop stroking it.

[Jaunt]

"To much?  Lona, you coulda pawned my phone, all eleven hundred bucks of it.  You didn't.  I respect that."  The handsome teens words sounded almost too mature for him, given his usual carefree way living.  "I know I'm a jerk sometimes,"  she raised an eyebrow at him and smiled coyly.  "Okay, most of the time, and I don't have any real friends."

He sat beside her and looked at the guitar.  "But those I'm close to, like my sister, I value respect and honesty.  Mess around all you like, joke around, have your fun... just, have my back when it's all done, y'know?  Can't have friendship without respect."

"Devie..." she cooed, messing with him.  " Are you saying you respect me?"

"Nah," he bumped with a lean in her direction.  "Just using you for your body, I'm shallow like that."

"Does the boy play?" Momma Clyde asked Devin.

"Me?  Oh, no.  Rock and metal... not really my genre.  Gimme a lil' Luda, Bruno Mars... some ol' Usher or Wu Tang."  He nodded.

"You play."  She said with a smirk.  "What is it you play?  I know the fingers of a musician."

Devin laughed.  "I do not play an instrument.  I know one song my mom made me learn for a talent competition.  Joe Crocker's 'With A Little Help'.  I learned it on a piano.  Hated it."

"Seriously," Lona laughed.  "You play piano?"

"No, I do not.  I know one song, I've forgotten half of it, and I as terrible." He laughed along with her.  "But I do know a lovely guitarist who is going to absolutely adore this."  He pointed the red guitar she was holding.  "Wrap it up, Momma Clyde!  This girl's gonna rock in style the next she hits that stage."  He shot Lona a wink and a smile as he stood up and tilted his head for her to flow him to the register.

[z-Avalon Wilson]

It was a weird, crazy dream. As Devin handed over his credit card for the third time on her behalf today, Lona covertly pinched herself. It hurt, and she was forced to concede that she wasn’t dreaming. Devin Jauntsen was buying her stuff and asking her to watch his back.

I will, she thought at him. Was it because he’d bought her nice things? That helped, but honestly their conversations on this trip had done more. Devin was trying and Lona respected that. She respected Devin. 

Welcome to Bizarro World. 

He kept up a steady chatter with Mama Clyde as she rang them up. He managed to remain charming the entire time, getting the older woman to blush and even giggle once. After they were outside, Lona cradling the new weight of the guitar in her hands, she said, “Thank you again. This is a game changer for me, in getting my music out there. You’re totally getting a dedication on my first video I make.”

“Yeah, make sure that the ladies know I’m single and hot,” he said, grinning down at her. 

“I will be sure to include your dating status and if you want, I’ll include a picture.” She laughed. “If a hottie contacts me desperate for you, I’ll pass on their information.”

“Now that’s what I call having my back,” Devin replied as they arrived at the bike. 

It took several minutes of arrangement to get Lona, the guitar, and the Best Buy bag secured on the bike, but Devin had clearly done this before. As she squeezed on the Tawny-scented helmet, she said, “I guess back to Shelly, then?”

[Jaunt]

1"Yeah, probably not a bad idea,"  he said, looking up at the sky.  "It'll be dark before before we get back.  People don't look out for motorcycles after the sun sets, better to be safe."

"So chivalrous," Lona laughed with all the charm of Wednesday Aadams.

"What, are you kidding?  I just got this baby, I want her taken care of.  I can get another neo-goth on Craig's List..."

She punched him in the side playfully as the both laughed.  "Jerk."

With the extra weight Devin kept the speed at a normal limit, driving safer than before and not using what map magic he had.  The hour long trip wasn't that bad, everything was tied down and she had a new guitar on her back and her arms around a hot guy who seemed to really like her... it was almost heartbreaking when she reminded herself that it was all over the moment they got back to her house.

As his bike slowed down in her drive and came to a stop they both retrieved her goodies and helped her carry them to her door.  She meant to go inside but like all teens they were easily distracted and five minutes into a nonsensical conversation Devin snapped his finger like he'd just remembered something.  "Aw, crap... we forget condoms.  Old Spice is gonna think less of me, isn't he?"

[z-Avalon Wilson]

“You’re really worried about Gerault’s opinion?” Lona asked, smirking. She reached out and tugged on his jacket a little, one of those weird grooming things girls do that is always an excuse to touch a guy. Her hand didn’t drop away from the jacket; after all, he was a really hot guy. “Maybe, Devin, you should ask what I think of you?”

Devin’s eyes dropped to her hand, still on his jacket and back up to her. “Is there anyway I’ve failed to please you?” he asked, his voice dropping a bit. “Dinner, nice gifts, exciting rides. I don’t know what else I could have done. ‘Less you want more.”

Lona’s smile faded, her eyes going wide. Swallowing, caught up in the sudden rise in tension, she asked, “What if I did?”

He stepped closer, a hair's breadth from connecting with her. Her head tilted back so she could continue making eye contact with him. That was a mistake, because he was a master at the eye-smoulder, which added to the charged atmosphere of his confident follow-up: “Is there any way I've failed to not make our time today memorable? You know," he said softly, arching and eyebrow.  "All you have to do... is ask."

It was like another person stepped into her body and boldly challenged, “You told Gerault it was a date. So finish it like one.”

[Jaunt]

A dare if he'd ever heard one and Devin never turned down a dare.  His grin twisted into something mischievous.  Lona was just pushing buttons, teasing, goading her rich new friend because he was honestly fun to joke with.  Never in her wildest did she think he'd actually take her seriously.  Devin was an ace messing with people, he was only...

Kissing her.

It took her brain a few moments to realize that, but... his lips were on hers with a gentle, practiced tenderness of a guy who'd made out a lot.  His thumb traced her cheek gently as her lips tried to make sense of his rythm... and boy did he have rythm...

[z-Avalon Wilson]

Lona tried to say something and push him away but her brain had other ideas. Devin heard a small purr of pleasure from her and her free hand found its way onto the back of her neck. She kissed him back with lots of enthusiasm and zero experience, and Devin broke the kiss to murmur, “Lean with me, I’ll go slow.”

She tried to say ‘stop’ but her brain again elected to resume kissing instead. For someone who had started the day with the opinion that making out with Devin would almost be interspecies breeding, she definitely was into kissing him. Following his lead, she went back to their lip lock and managed to kiss him rather than sorta smear her lips over his mouth.

The door popped open, and a red-faced Adele stood on the other side. As the teens instinctively jumped back, Lona’s mom snapped, “Avalon Mists Wilson, get in this house, right now!” Behind her, Clara, Gerault, Lisa, and Felix watched from the kitchen, with various amounts of surprise and consternation.

Lona glared at her mom and turned back to Devin. “Thanks for a great day, Devin,” she said in her most coy voice. “I had fun.”

[Jaunt]

"Me too," Devin said, that Cheshire grin never leaving lips, especially now that there was an authority figure ruining hi-, their fun.

As Lona turned to leave and he gave her a slight tug on her jacket sleeve.  She paused to look back at him.  "You really should consider a skirt once in awhile, gorgeous.  Denim is a bitch to chew through."  He winked with a pinch of evil added to it.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Mrs. Wilson.  Hope you don't mind me hanging out with your daughter.  You didn't seem to interested in doing it, so she made some friends, smile.  Be happy for her."  He waved to the folks in the back.  "Old Spice!  Bro!  Long time, how y'been?  Clara... still looking crazy as hell... hi.  Well, this has been great, Lona, anytime." He smiled and Adele.  "You, not so much.  G'night."

And like his fifteen minutes on stage were done, Devin walked off back to his motorcycle whistling the tune of 'I've No Fucks To Give'.  Lona had a blast, that's all that mattered to him.  For just a little while she was able to be herself and be the young woman she was desperately looking for after so much time dedicating her life to another.  Sure, he probably just got her grounded for life... but he couldn't help that.  He still had all night and Becky Madison just text him...