"...have I interrupted something?" I smiled at Devyn's inquisitive voice. "No, I'm just reading." He was silent for a moment. "Reading, huh?" I smiled, "Yup. Some book called Ginger Kiss. Found it in the book store." Devyn was silent for a minute. "Why are you reading my book?" he asked eventually. I was surprised by his tone. "Why not?"
"I thought you didn't really like reading."
"Well, I mean, I won't spend my Christmas money on books or anything like that, but I don't dislike reading." Devyn was quiet for another minute. "Devyn, is something wrong?"
"No...I guess not. I just didn't think you would read my books." I waited for him to say something more, but he didn't. "Did you not want me to read your books?" He cleared his throat, "Not really, no." I blinked. "Why?" I pictured him shrugging as he said, "I don't know. It's just not something... you were ever interested in. So I didn't really want you to see it."
"I don't understand."
"It's just..." he sighed, trying to find the right words. "Well, it's personal." I was surprised by the rush of hurt that filled me after he said that. "I'm you're my best friend, Devyn."
"Yea. And this is something I want to share with my... girlfriend." I was strucken speechless for a moment. "Are you saying that because we're not a couple you don't want me to read your writing? Are you saying that I would be crossing some boundary or something?"
"I'm saying..." he sighed. "You know what, just forget it. Read them, whatever. I don't care." He hung up. He hung up on me. Devyn never hung up on me, no matter how mad he was or how much of a jerk I was being or how much PMS I took out on him. I called Bubba. I spilled the whole conversation to him. And then I waited. "I see," Bubba said slowly. "You see? You see what? What do you mean, I see?"
"Calm down, Justin. I understand what he's saying."
"You do? How? What is he saying?"
"He knows that you two will happen sometime." I wanted to object, but Bubba just continued, "and he doesn't want you to read his books until you do. If you read them now, it's like you're making the possibility of you two ever happening a lost cause. You having not yet read the books was like a line of hope for him, thin but still there. You read those books, you break that line, therefore killing any hope he has left of ever winning your heart."
"Ok, now that was a warped drama queen way to look at it."
"Maybe I over exaggerated a bit. But you get the gist." I looked down at the red-covered in front of me and then glanced over at Friday Nights, resting on my bedside table. I thought of the dedication to me at the beginning of that book, and I ran a hand through my hair, noting that it needed to be washed. I looked down at my hands- my fingernails had polish on them from three weeks ago that was chipped and dented, desperately begging for a manicure, or at least a home coat. I thought of Erik, how that phone call had been an end to any hope I left kindled in my heart that we would ever be together again. How I had hoped against all odds that somehow we could fix things. How crushed I had felt when that hope was shattered. "Yea," I said finally, "I guess I do."
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