My parents had left the house due to business plans over an extravagant dinner, while Evelyn had left almost the second she realized our parents were gone. Eric was out taking Emmanuel to Sam’s house again.
I was alone, and being alone means you do stupid decisions. Stupid decisions led to texting Delcan like I was a pro at dating others.
Me:
So are you picking me up or what?
Right after I had sent the message, I wondered if it was too much. Delcan seemed too nervous to even ask me out, and I basically made it seem like I was gonna turn him down when my sister walked in.
Halfway through me finishing up my reading homework (Romeo and Juliet is both entertaining and tragically annoying in all the same ways), my phone beeped. I slammed the novel onto the table and shuffled over to my phone, almost slipping in the socks I had stolen from my brother’s room.
When I looked up at my screen, a wave of disappointment hit me. It was just my mom.
Mom:
Hey, sweetie. Your dad and I might be awhile. You can tell Eric to order some pizza or Chinese food if you’d like to. We’re gonna try to be home for at least three hours.
Love you, babe. Tell your siblings to do their homework, as well.
I responded to her with an okay before texting that I loved her, too. I called up Dominos and ordered two large cheese pizzas and a small sausage (Emmanuel can’t stand cheese without meat on it). Right through my order, I decided to change it.
“Actually,” I told the guy on the phone with me. “Would you mind me changing it?”
He sighed, and I could hear the sound of a child yelling in the background. “I guess so, kid,” he muttered. The guy must be in his early 30s. He sounded like his day had been hard - which I could completely understand. In less than a month, semester exams would be here. “What would you like to change?”
“One of the cheese pizzas needs to be pepperoni, please,” I said.
“Alright,” the man responded, no emotion clear in his voice. “Your order will be to your address in thirty minutes. Mind giving me the house number?”
House number? I told him my address anyway, and he ended the call right before I could say thank you to him.
Rude.
I was sitting in the living room, reading through my notes when Eric walked home. He was wearing a Yale sweatshirt with jeans, and his hair was ragged and messed up - not that I was about to ask why. “I ordered pizza,” I told him.
Eric nodded. “Where’s Mom and Dad?” he asked, searching behind him like our parents had the humor or time to play a game of hide and seek. I explained that they were at a business dinner, and Eric rolled his eyes before dragging himself up the stairs.
About an hour after I sent my message to Delcan, he responded. I jolted from my seat, going into my messages to read it.
Delcan:
Be there in five, Ezra.
Me:
Okay.
I wish I could call Evvie right now. I was actually planning on finding days when her mom wasn’t at home, so maybe I could stay over without her mom asking me nonsense questions. Maybe Evvie would talk to me more about Rio, too. Then again, five minutes felt like the longest time in the world.
Finally, I simply walked outside in the cold weather and sat on the front steps, waiting for Delcan. He pulled up in what I’m assuming was his dad’s car, which was a Rolls Royce. Nice car, I thought to myself, watching as Delcan got out of the car, twirling the keys in his hands. He was wearing a grey sweatshirt, which fit his body perfectly, and jeans that had rips before his kneecaps. Seriously, he made me feel like I under-dressed. “Hey,” Delcan called out. I gave him a smile before getting out of my car and walking up to him.
“You look great,” I said.
Delcan shrugged. “I’ll probably wear this to school Friday or something,” he responded. I was about to laugh, but I caught myself. One of my neighbors, a family who had recently adopted a mixed baby (my father had his large opinions on the baby, and she was only a few months old.). But, Mr. Harrington was friends/business partners with Adam’s father, Mr. Hunter, therefore meaning Dad had no choice but to be kind to him. Mr. Harrington’s wife, who only allowed me to all her Rosanne, waved.
“Hi, Ezra!” she called out. She was wearing her gardening dress, clipping a tree. I gave her a smile back, wishing I could hide Delcan without him getting upset with me. I didn’t want her getting the wrong - well, right - idea about us. Delcan turned to look at Mrs. Harrington, and he cocked his head to the side.
“Hey, Rosanne,” I yelled back.
She gave me another smile before realizing that Delcan was standing next to the Rolls Royce. Her smile faded. “Delcan Heslop,” she announced. “I didn’t know you were friends with him.”
I had no clue who she was talking to, but I began speaking before Delcan could. “I’ve been helping him study lately,” I lied. Rosanne Harrington made that face as if I had just told her about giving her every penny of my trust fund money to charity. “Since I knew about his...issue-” He’s going to slap me for saying that, I thought to myself. Sure enough, Delcan hit my lower back, but I pretended it didn’t happen. “I felt like it was right to help him.”
“That’s very sweet,” Mrs. Harrington responded, her hand placed over her heart.
Delcan decided that once wasn’t enough, and he slapped the back of my upper thigh, which not only made a noise, but I yelped. “Ow,” I muttered, glaring at him. He shrugged and then proceeded to look through his phone. Mrs. Harrington heard the sound, though she must’ve felt no need to ask about it.
“How would your father feel about hanging around a...the Heslops?” Rosanne asked, her eyes darting to her flowerbed. I looked over to Delcan, who didn’t even seem to care about what was entering the conversation. “I mean, from what I remember, Johnathan hated David Heslop. I’m sure his hatred continues through his offspring.”
I gave Mrs. Harrington a kind smile, as well as a wave. “Have a good evening, Rosanne,” I called. “I hope to see you soon, Mrs.” Rosanne gave a look of uncertainty as I climbed into the car with Delcan, and I could still feel her stare as Delcan pulled out of the driveway.
“Isn’t she lovely?” Delcan asked, exchanging a smile to me. I watched him as he focused on trying to see how much gas there was. I didn’t want to invade his space, so I sat back in my chair, praying Delcan knew what he was doing.
“She’s married to a close business partner of my parents,” I told him. “I basically have no choice but to be kind to the woman.”
Delcan turned the wheel in a sharp motion, sending me and the car to the left rapidly. My heart began to beat at an unnatural pace as I turned to Delcan. “You do know how to drive, right?”
He laughed. “Of course I do!” his voice sounded like he was trying to make himself believe the words coming out of his mouth. I sighed, pressing my head against the window. “O you seriously think I would bring you into a car with someone who doesn’t know how to fix things if the car stops working?”
I popped my head up. “If you kill me, Delcan-”
“If you don’t want me to, then I suggest you allow me to focus,” he interrupted. I grunted, balling my hands into fists as I watched the building outside begin to reflect art instead of modern taste. “This is a date I asked you out on. Let me pleasure.”
I smiled. “Adam asked me out, Delcan, not you.”
For a few moments, Delcan didn’t have anything to say back to me. Instead, he checked the road to see if there was anyone walking, and then he turned on music. The lyrics were not only in Spanish, but it was rap music - something I’m not allowed to listen to. “Um, Delcan?”
“What’s up?”
“I can’t listen to rap.”
The car stopped, and I almost hit the dashboard. Delcan was staring at me, his eyes dark brown and his mouth open. “What?”
I rubbed my head, trying to decide if I wanted to pretend being hurt or not. “My dad-”
“Last time I checked, Ezra Gatley, your stupid father isn’t tagging along to become our third wheel. That’s Evvie and Haven’s jobs.” I looked away from him, watching as a group of guys spray-painted the words Never lose hope, King on the side of an empty building. I wondered who King was as Delcan kept talking. “And since I don’t see your dad around Paris Heights, I suggest you listen to me. I know how to have a good time, Ez, trust me.”
Ez. He hardly ever calls me Ez.
Is that progress?
“Okay,” I whispered, turning my head back out to the window.
ns 172.71.194.170da2
