Текст книги "Following Me"

Автор книги: K. A. Linde

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

WHAT THE FUCK had just happened?

Seriously.  What the hell had just happened?

Devon ordered her drink, so the woman behind her would stop bothering her.  Finally, with her drink in hand, Devon turned back to the place where Hadley and Garrett had just been.  Neither of them was standing there, and she searched the area to see if she could spot them.  They weren’t in plain sight.  They must have moved on.

She couldn’t understand what had happened.  Hadley and Garrett were in a realm of perfection that didn’t exist in other relationships.  Devon was surprised Hadley didn’t have a ring on her finger already.

Devon knew it was ridiculous to think that.  It was easy to see the perfection on the outside, but she lived with them.  She knew what their schedules were like and how little time they actually spent together.  She knew that Garrett’s dad didn’t like Hadley, and she knew that Garrett didn’t know about Hadley’s little coke problem.

Devon stopped in her tracks.  Had Garrett found out about Hadley’s drug problem?  She ran back through the scenario in her mind, recalling what she had seen.  No.  No, it didn’t make sense.  He wouldn’t have kissed her like that.  Would he?  Maybe he had asked her to choose him over the drugs.  Maybe the kiss had been an act of desperation on his part to convince her, to try to keep her.  Gah!  She didn’t know, and she really, really wanted to know.

She returned to her seat to wait for Brennan’s performance and stress about Hadley and Garrett.  Amy and Hannah continued to act as if her appearance at their table was of little importance, and right now, Devon was happy for the reprieve.  She had too many other things on her mind.

Coming to Chicago to escape her life in St. Louis wasn’t working out exactly as she had planned.  Not that anything ever did.  Not that she had really planned it out to begin with.

Hadley was supposed to help ground her.  Garrett wasn’t supposed to take her place.  Devon didn’t want to be more comfortable with him than Hadley.  Brennan wasn’t supposed to be so appealing.  She had too much to work out in her life without dealing with the intruding thought of Brennan’s lips against hers again.  She couldn’t do that…not with everything else.

“I think he’s next,” Amy squealed.

Devon glanced over at them and noticed what she hadn’t seen before.  They liked Brennan.  She hadn’t paid any attention at work, but it was pretty obvious now that she was looking for it.  Maybe they had heard about how she had gotten the job at Jenn’s and that was why they didn’t like her.  They must think she was competition.  It would explain a lot.

Well, if that was what they thought, they were wrong.  After Devon had turned down Brennan, she couldn’t fathom him trying again.  She had made it clear that she was off-limits.  Even if he wanted to cross those lines, she wasn’t sure he would act on it again.

Ugh!  She couldn’t even think about it all.  It just made her head hurt.

Devon placed her palm on her forehead and tried to massage out the growing ache in her head.

“You feeling alright, Dev?”

As Devon’s head flew up in surprise, she found Garrett standing over her.  “Garrett!  You’re here!”

“Yeah, sorry about being so late,” he said.

She looked around, wondering where Hadley was.  Was she still in the restroom?  Was Devon a bad friend for not following after her?  Devon hadn’t felt like it was her place to step in.  Garrett and Hadley didn’t know that she had seen their argument, and they probably didn’t want her to know about it.  Still, maybe she could go check on Hadley.

“Where’s Hadley?” Devon asked, knowing the answer.

If she wasn’t with him, then he had left her in the restroom.

I guess it is just going to be a guilt-ridden night, Devon thought.

Garrett took the seat Brennan had left unoccupied.  “Oh, she really, really wanted to come, but she’s sick tonight.  I couldn’t even drag her out of the house.  Are you okay?  I hope you don’t have the same thing that she has.”

Devon stared at him blankly.  He was lying.  He was looking her in the face, straight in the face, and lying.  And he was damn good at it.  She couldn’t even tell.  She knew he was lying, and she couldn’t even tell that he was.  He actually made her doubt what she had seen with her own two eyes earlier.

“Wha…what’s wrong with her?” Devon asked in disbelief.

“Headaches, body aches, exhaustion.  She has been really moody all week, so it could just be PMS,” he said with a shrug.

PMS?  He was really going to use that.  Hadley had just slapped him across the face, and he was going to blame her behavior on PMS.  Yeah right!

It’s more likely the amount of cocaine she is using, Devon thought.

“That sucks,” Devon said finally.

“Yeah, she really wanted to come,” he repeated.

“I’m surprised you came out at all if she wasn’t feeling well,” Devon said accusingly.  Why wasn’t he chasing after her?  Why was he letting her go?  Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen?  She felt deluded about Garrett and Hadley’s relationship.  She had wanted so badly for it to be as perfect as it looked from the outside.

“She told me to go.  After all, I couldn’t do anything for her,” Garrett said. He leaned back into the chair, his ankle crossing over his knee.

“Of course,” Devon said, trying to hold back the sarcasm from her voice.  “I sure hope she gets better soon.”

“Comes once a month.  I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Garrett said over the applause from the last performer.

Devon rolled her eyes and looked toward the stage.  Garrett wasn’t going to give any clues as to what had happened between them.  She would have to ask him later, or maybe she would have to ask Hadley.  Hadley had been the one who was pissed off, so she might be more likely to spill.  For all the confidence that Devon and Garrett had been entrusting each other with, she wasn’t so sure he would tell her, but maybe she would ask him about it again later anyway.

Her eyes focused in on Brennan as he walked onto the stage, carrying an acoustic guitar.  Her body tensed as she stared down at him.  She could hear murmurs coming from the women in the audience as he plugged in his guitar, adjusted the microphone, and sat down on the chair.  Everyone was noticing what Devon had just realized moments ago.  He looked great up there.  He had taken off the blue button-up that he had arrived in, and now, he was just wearing a fitted green T-shirt with his dark jeans.

If she didn’t know him better, she would have thought he was completely comfortable up there.  But his hands twitched as he plucked at a chord, and she watched his lips move as he muttered to himself.  He had an easy, lazy look to him that helped him appear more relaxed than he was.  She wished she could do something to calm his nerves.

After Brennan finished his adjustments, he leaned forward toward the microphone.  “Good evening.  I’m Brennan Walker.  A couple of you out there might have seen me up here before.  I’m sure a few of you booed me off stage the first time I tried this.  Thanks for coming back and giving me another shot.”

The crowd chuckled.  That was a good sign.  Devon found herself rooting for him.

“For those of you who are new to the open mic routine, you picked a damn good night to be in the house.  I’m playing a selection of original tunes, and I hope you like them.  This first one is titled ‘Headstrong.’”

Devon wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but whatever it was could never compare to this.  She knew music.  She had grown up around music, dated musicians, and listened to every genre imaginable.  Her heart craved music.  And that was exactly what she was getting tonight.

Brennan’s voice wasn’t the best out there.  He wasn’t a master on the guitar.  He didn’t have the stage presence of the artists she had encountered at home.  But he had a certain quality about him that seemed superior to all of that.  It was like when she had tried to tease apart her feelings toward him, and all she had discovered was that she couldn’t.  That was what his music was like.  It was more an emotion than anything, like the way she felt when she got butterflies in her stomach, or when she rode a roller coaster, or when she caught the first glimpse of the horizon across the ocean.  It was all and none of those things.

And maybe she was the only one in the room feeling that.  But wasn’t that what made art so beautiful in the first place?  She could stand in one place and experience the same thing as a hundred other people, and everyone would come out of it with something different.  She felt like she was soaring, and the world was flying beneath her feet.  Brennan’s smooth voice was music to her ears, and music brought her home.

When the song ended, Devon realized her eyes were closed, and she slowly opened them.  As her vision adjusted to the dim lighting, she focused down on Brennan.

What are you doing to me? she wondered.

The crowd cheered, and Devon followed, clapping her hands hard.

“He’s good, right?” Garrett leaned over, so Devon could hear him.

“Yeah!  Wow!” she said, wearing the biggest smile on her face since she had been in Chicago.

“You should have come to his last performance.  The audience gave him a standing ovation at the end.  I don’t know what it is about the guy, but everyone goes nuts for his music.  Hadley even cried at the end of his last show, and he only played for like fifteen minutes,” Garrett told her.

“He’s good.  I should know,” she said with a laugh.  “I know music.”

“You should pitch him to the people you know,” Garrett suggested.

Devon wrinkled her nose.  “I don’t know people, except for my parents.”

“I’m sure you can think of someone,” Garrett prodded.  “His music made you smile brighter than you have since you got here.  Anything that can put that pretty smile on your face should be playing on the radio.”

Devon blushed at his words.  “Thanks,” she said, staring back down at Brennan.

She probably did know someone.  Most of her contacts were with country music, and he clearly didn’t sing country.  In any case, she could likely get him an in…if that was what he wanted.  It would be something worth thinking about…maybe.

Before she could think about it any further, he started the next song.  The next two were ones that Garrett knew from previous shows.  He told her that Brennan normally added a couple originals in here and there among the covers he did.  Garrett had never been to a gig where Brennan did all originals.  Devon couldn’t imagine the show any other way.  No one else’s music would have felt right.

As Brennan’s short set drew to a close, Devon found she didn’t want it to end.  How could it be so close to being over already?  It felt like he had just started.

“I want to thank you all again for coming out.  This is my last song for the night, and it’s kind of personal to me.  It’s about loss, pain, and silence…about how hope blossoms in the smallest of packages and in the least likely of circumstances.  This one is titled ‘Moving Forward’,” he said into the microphone, his eyes seemingly finding her in the crowd.

As he played the first few chords, his eyes never strayed from her.  She wasn’t even close to the stage, but he seemed to know right where she was.  Amy and Hannah sighed heavily next to her.

As soon as the lyrics started flowing from his mouth, Devon could tell the song was different from the others…more personal.  She hadn’t thought it possible, but this song was better suited to him than the others.  He couldn’t have described the lyrics any better than in his introduction.

She felt like her heart was breaking as he sang about a loss she could understand.  She felt a stabbing sensation in her body as she experienced his pain.  The words made her feel like she wasn’t alone with the dreaded silence from which she suffered.  And finally, she could feel her heart being stitched together.  The needle wasn’t gentle, and the thread would heal the wounds in time, but there was hope that the scars would heal.

When the song came to a close, Devon felt tears welling in her eyes.  The song was painful.  It actually caused her physical discomfort to even hear it, but that made it even better.  People who had ever willed themselves to silence needed the hope from Brennan’s song.  Maybe it would help mend their hearts, too.

Brennan stood as the house came down with applause.  People were on their feet.  Some people were swiping at their eyes from the emotional song.  But Brennan never broke eye contact with Devon, and her eyes never left his gaze until he was ushered offstage for the next performer.  That poor soul.

“I don’t know how he does it,” Garrett said, nudging Devon lightly.  “Look, you’re even crying.  I thought we talked about this.  No more crying from you.”

Devon laughed through her tears and sniffled.  “Right.  Right.  No more crying,” she said, wiping under her eyes.

“If I had a voice like that and could play guitar, I could bag so many girls,” Garrett said with a fake dumb expression on his face, making fun of all the guys who actually talked like that.

“I’m sure he does,” Devon said, laughing softly at his joke.

If Brennan’s advances toward Devon were any indication, he was surely getting exactly who and what he wanted.

“Who?  Brennan?” Garrett asked incredulously.  “No way.  That guy is a saint.  Girls are magnets for musicians, and he manages to fend them off like a lion tamer.”

“No way is he a saint,” Devon said, rolling her eyes.  “I don’t believe it.  Half the girls at work like him.”

“Well, you ask him then,” Garrett said with a shrug.  “I’ve known a lot of guys with musician complexes.  He doesn’t have one.”

“Oh, you’ve known guys with musician complexes?” Devon asked, again rolling her eyes to the ceiling.  They could never compare to what she had seen.

“All I’m saying is that Brennan could sleep with any girl here tonight, and he won’t bring any one of them home.  At least, I’ve never seen him do it.”

But he brought me home, she thought.  She wasn’t going to stick around to find out if it would happen with someone else.

She could see Brennan backstage now, sliding his button-up back on.  Soon, he would be back at their table.  She couldn’t face him.  That song had struck home.  The lyrics were so personal and so touching that she felt like he had spoken directly to her.  It was as if she had opened up her notebook filled with lyrics and let him read the pages with her heart laid bare in the words.  She was the one moving forward, pushing through the pain to find herself once more.  And it was then that she felt like the final song had been about her, like it had been written for her.  She couldn’t prove it, and she didn’t want to.  She couldn’t get more entangled in him than she already was even if Garrett said he wouldn’t make a move…another move.

She would be interested in pursuing her little sliver of hope but not under these circumstances.  It wouldn’t be fair to him, or her, or Reid.

She needed to leave before she did something stupid.

“I’m actually not feeling all that well, Garrett.”  Devon put her hand on her forehead again.  “I wanted to see Brennan’s show, but I think we should probably go.  I’ll see him at work this week, and I’ll talk to him there.”

“You sure?” Garrett asked, clearly confused.

“Yeah, I’m ready to go home,” Devon said, feeling like that wasn’t an appropriate name for the apartment she was living in.

She had found her home in Brennan’s music.

“FUCK,” DEVON CRIED, impatiently tapping her pen back and forth on her leg on the train.

An old lady sitting down near Devon glared at her.  Devon didn’t have the patience for it right now.  She was late for work.  It was the first time she had ever been late.  What made it worse was she knew that Jenn was going to be in today.

She hadn’t meant to be late.  No one ever intended to be late.  But she had managed to sleep right through her alarm.

Last night had been the worst dreams she’d ever had.  She had woken up twice in the middle of the night with the exact same dream that she’d had a dozen times already, the one where she was being chased through campus.  She shuddered even thinking about it.  Then, this morning, it had raided her sleep once more and held her hostage through her alarm.  Each time she had awoken drenched in sweat or crying her eyes out, remembering the feel of the man’s hands on her as she lay sprawled face-first on the bed.  Her hands were shaking now at the thought.

She hadn’t had time to shower or cover up the dark circles under her eyes, and she was pretty sure she looked like shit.  It would be just another thing Jenn would love about her showing up late. Jenn didn’t necessarily have a code for appearances at her restaurant, but her idea of looking nice certainly involved a shower and makeup.  Devon had done what she could with her mess of hair tangled from her trio of nightmares.  Although she would have normally preferred to tame her waves with her straightener, she had only had enough time to run her fingers under the faucet and comb them through her hair.

It wasn’t like Devon had anyone to impress anyway.  Jenn could get over it, and Brennan wouldn’t be in anyway.  He had called in sick every day since his gig.  Jenn hadn’t said what was wrong, but it must have been serious.  He never missed work as far as Devon could tell.

She cursed a second time and openly glared back at the old woman until she broke eye contact.  Devon was not a woman to be messed with right now.  Since Brennan had not come into work, she hadn’t talked to him in four, going on five, days.  He probably thought she was a super shitty person for walking out on his show without a word.  When she had found out he was sick, she had sent him a text, but she hadn’t received a response.  She could only assume he was pissed or deathly ill.  Neither were preferable options.

As the train came to a halt, Devon pushed her way through the doors before they opened all the way.  She brushed her hair off her face as the heat of the city hit her full-on.  She wanted to run straight to Jenn’s, but she knew if she ran, she would be sweating by the time she got there.  That wouldn’t help her case any.

Not able to help herself, she rushed down the flight of stairs to the street level.  When her phone started ringing loudly in her purse, she cursed again.  Now was not the time.

She grabbed the phone out of her purse, stared down at the screen, and sighed.  Not the best time, but she had been avoiding her mother for too long.

“Hey, Mama,” Devon said, leaning the phone against her ear as she pushed through the turnstile.

“Hey, honey!  How are you?  I’ve missed you so much this summer,” she said, gushing like always.

“I’ve been fine.  How are you and Dad?  How is Dani?”  Devon said, asking the requisite questions.

“We’re all great, Dixie.”

Devon rolled her eyes.  She would never live down that nickname.

“Your father started a new song that would bring tears to your beautiful blue eyes.”

Devon’s thoughts drifted to another song that had brought tears to her eyes last week.  She swallowed down that thought.  This would be a good time to ask her parents about helping out Brennan.  She opened her mouth to say something, but then she closed it again.  How would she explain Brennan when her mom didn’t even know she was in Chicago?  Devon cringed.

“I really think this one is going to be a hit.  Dani was almost emotional,” her mother said.

“Another sad one?” Devon trotted down the stairs, barely listening to her mom.  She didn’t want to think about how she would explain Brennan to her parents, but now, all she was thinking about was how to do it.

“No!  It’s so happy that you would just cry with happiness,” her mother said, giddy.  “It’s really, truly beautiful.”

“That’s good, Mom,” Devon said dryly.

“We can’t wait to see who the record label chooses for it.”

“Mama, I’m kind of busy.  Can we talk later?”  Devon said, treading the familiar track to Jenn’s.

“Oh, I’ll just be quick and tell you why I called!  So, I bought our plane tickets to New York.  I bought one for you—” she began.

“Mom!” Devon whined, drawing the word out as long as she could.  “I’m not going.”

“Now, Dixie, be reasonable.  It’s refundable just in case you can’t make it, but really, you should be able to make it.  It’s a nonstop flight from St. Louis to LaGuardia.  I even got first class,” her mother cooed as if that would make up for it.

“Mom!”

“It’s going to be really fun!  Your father and I have been nominated for an award, honey!”

“Mom!” Devon tried again.

“It’s going to be so nice to have the whole family back together,” her mom said.

“I’m not going, Mama.  I’m too busy.”

“I’ll send you the flight information in an email.  Dustin thinks that he and Kelly aren’t going either, but I’ve already sent their itinerary along.  I’m sure they’ll come around,” she said, oblivious to Devon’s frustration.  “Did you need me to get Reid a ticket as well?”

“No,” Devon said flatly.

“Are you sure?  I’d be happy to get one for him, too,” she said in a singsong tone.

“I’m not going, so if you got Reid a ticket, he would be going without me,” Devon said.

“Dixie, please,” her mother said, turning on the waterworks like a light switch.

Devon sighed, hating when her mother did this.  She couldn’t deal with this right now.

“I’ve got to go to work.  I’ll talk to you some other time,” Devon said hastily.

“Work?” her mom asked.

Devon stopped in the middle of the street. Shit!

She hadn’t meant to say that.  She was slipping.  Her mother wasn’t even supposed to know that she was working.  She needed to come up with something quickly.  No one was supposed to know what she was doing.  If one person found out, the whole thing would come tumbling down.

“Yeah, I’m just filling in for a friend at a restaurant.  They were shorthanded, and I offered to help,” Devon lied, trying to cover up her mistake.

“Do you need extra money, Dixie?  I’d be happy to put some into your account,” her mother offered.

“No, I’m fine,” she said quickly.

“I don’t like the thought of you working when you’re already so busy.”

“I just…have to go,” Devon said, cursing herself for fucking up.  “Bye, Mom.”

Devon threw her phone back into her purse in frustration.  She was already at the back door to Jenn’s, and she needed to get her shit together.

She headed inside and waited for the shitstorm that was likely to surface.  Quickly stashing her bag in the break room, she surfaced just in time to see Brennan walk into the kitchen.  She stopped in her tracks, surprised to see him.  Jenn had said he wouldn’t be in all week, and he still looked pretty sick.  What was he doing here?

“Hey,” Devon said, wanting to say something before he did.  “Sorry about running out of the show last week.  I wasn’t feeling well.”

Brennan shrugged, not looking directly at her.  “I guess it’s going around.”

“Yeah, but I feel bad.  I should have waited,” she said.  “You put on a great show.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I thought it went well.”

He still hadn’t met her gaze.  What was up with him?

“I really liked the last song.”  She bit her lip, hoping he would look at her.

“I think it still needs some work.”

Devon tried to figure out a different angle.  He seemed even more off and withdrawn than normal.  “Are you feeling any better?  Jenn said you were sick.”

He shrugged again.  “I guess.  Some.  I just came in for my check.”  He waved it dismissively in the air.

“Oh.  So, you’re not staying?”  Her stomach sank.

“Jenn won’t clear me even though I told her it wasn’t that bad.  She said I handle food, and she doesn’t want me to contaminate her customers.”

A faint smile touched his face when he finally looked up at her.  He really didn’t look good.  No wonder Jenn was sending him home.

“That sucks,” she said, not sure what else to say.

He felt so far away.  Through his music, she felt like they had connected on a different level, one that even she couldn’t figure out.  Yet, she had left, and now, it was like he was an empty vessel.

“Hey, how did your medical exams go?”  She hoped changing the subject would bring him out of his funk.  She had forgotten to ask him about it at his show.

He visibly flinched at the words.  “Fine.”

She wasn’t sure how she had managed to make him even less comfortable. “Do you think you’ll get into the schools you want?”

“We’ll just wait and see,” he responded dryly.

It was the same tone she had used with her mother.  That wasn’t good.

“Well…good luck,” she muttered.

“I’ve got to get out of here.  Not feeling as well as I thought, I guess.  I’ll see you around, Devon,” he said with a half-smile before he walked out the back door.

She watched him leave with a heavy weight on her chest.  Hadn’t she left St. Louis to escape her problems?  Why did it feel like the farther she ran, the more problems kept piling up?  Nothing was working, and she couldn’t hide out in Chicago forever.  She would have to face what had happened to her before school started or else it would only get worse.

Somehow, she would have to factor Brennan into all of that because whatever she was feeling wasn’t going away.  Her stomach twisted at that thought.  Brennan didn’t need to be anywhere near her problems…they could get him killed.

JENN WAS BEYOND bitchy when she finally found Devon.  Devon couldn’t really blame her; it was a holiday.  Who was late on the Fourth of July?  She was missing all the fun with parades, barbeques, and American flags everywhere outside.  She wished that she could have had the day off, but Jenn’s was slammed.  Hannah had called in sick, and there was no way that Jenn was going to let Devon leave early, especially after she had shown up twenty minutes late.

The only good part about being this busy was that Devon didn’t have any time to think.  She was on her feet all morning, literally running at some points to get through orders faster.  Her head was pounding by noon, and her feet hurt like the first day she had started working there.

Just as she was taking her first break of the day, Devon saw Hadley walk into the restaurant.  Hadley had been as scarce in the apartment as when Devon had first confronted her about the drugs.  This time, Devon was pretty sure that it wasn’t her fault though.  She had never found out what had caused Hadley’s argument with Garrett.  Hadley hadn’t been around all week, so Devon hadn’t gotten the chance to ask her.

Garrett hadn’t been acting any differently toward her.  He clearly didn’t know that Devon knew about the argument.  The more time she spent with him, the more she thought it must be Hadley’s fault.  He wouldn’t be that carefree about the situation if it had been his fault.  She knew because she felt terribly guilty for leaving St. Louis, like it was her fault for not facing her problems, for not somehow being better.

Garrett didn’t show any signs of feeling bad about the argument, whereas Devon knew Hadley was using.

Hadley’s eyes roamed the restaurant, and when she found Devon, she bit her lip and nodded her head to the side.

Hmm…

Devon was on her break, so she did have some time to talk to Hadley, but all things considered, it was weird that Hadley wanted to talk to her.  It was also strange that Hadley was alone.  It was a holiday.  She should have been with her family, or with Garrett, or with Garrett’s family.

What the hell? Devon thought, deciding to go find out.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” Hadley asked when Devon reached her.  “I know it’s packed in here.”

“I’m on break actually,” Devon said.

Hadley looked relieved and motioned for her to follow her outside.  Devon’s curiosity was getting the better of her.  She wasn’t going to miss a chance to talk to Hadley even if Devon wasn’t sure of the circumstances.

They walked around the side of the building and stood in the alleyway facing the street.  It wasn’t exactly private, but it was more privacy than they would get inside.  Plus, if Jenn saw Devon in the break room, she would likely flip, and Devon’s fifteen minutes would be up.  Devon leaned back against the brick building and waited for Hadley to say something.

“Hey,” Hadley said awkwardly as if she wasn’t talking to her best friend.

“What’s up, Hadley?” Devon asked, knowing there was something to this.

What was she going to ask for—money for her drugs?  Devon couldn’t help thinking the worst of Hadley, and it made her feel bad.  Hadley was her best friend, and Devon needed to act like it.  Just because she was going through her own issues didn’t mean she couldn’t keep trying to help Hadley.  It was something Devon could work toward, but it was another thing she had just as little control over.

Hadley sighed and looked down at the ground.  “I didn’t know who else to talk to,” she whispered.

She sounded more like the Hadley that Devon knew before she had found out Hadley was on drugs.

“About what?” Devon asked carefully.  She didn’t want to scare Hadley off.

Hadley swallowed and fidgeted.  “I’ve…I’ve been trying to quit.”

“That’s great, Hadley!” Devon cheered.

“I’m still working on it,” she said, fidgeting some more.  “I didn’t really come to talk about that though.  I just…just thought you should know.”

Damn!  That was the best news she’d had all day.  Devon didn’t know exactly what it meant, but at least it showed that Hadley knew she had a problem.  Progress was progress.

“I’m really glad you told me,” Devon said honestly.

“There’s, um…more.”  Hadley bit her lip and moved from the ball of her foot to the other.  “Garrett and I got into this huge fight the other night.”

“You did?” Devon asked, feigning surprise.  Now wasn’t the time to reveal that she already knew this much.

“Yeah.  You might have noticed I haven’t been at the apartment much.”

“I did.”

“Well, I just got so angry at him.  I…I slapped him, Dev,” Hadley said, her hands shaking.  “Gah, I mean…what happens if we break up, and he kicks me out of the apartment?  It’s his place.  He could do it if he wanted.”

Hadley was blabbering on, and Devon was just staring at her, surprised that Hadley had told her.

“Wait…wait…back it up,” Devon said.  “What were you even fighting about?”