Hero Complex (11 page)

T
HE NEXT MORNING, THE
rain finally stopped. Devon found Raven meandering along a path to class, absently eating a piece of toast. Crumbs fell from her lips. Devon felt a sudden surge to hug her. It was more than just sympathy; it was also something like camaraderie and nostalgia—camaraderie with a Keaton outsider (who couldn’t care less about her morning class appearance), and nostalgia for the safe warren of the guesthouse, with her and Bodhi …

“Hey!” Devon called, running to catch up.

Raven raised her eyebrows while she finished chewing. Devon noticed there were dark circles under her eyes, despite the overcompensating smile.

“I’ve been thinking about you guys,” Devon said. “I figured you’d surface when you were ready.”

“It’s been weird. These random meetings and people all day. And then at night, Bodhi and I just … it’s just really quiet up there.” She laughed sadly. “Shit, we’d call Priscilla back if there was anything for her to do.” Raven bit the inside of her cheek and looked over Devon’s shoulder, blinking back tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Devon said. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Nothing for me,” Raven said with a shaky sigh. “It is what it is.”

“For Bodhi?” Devon hoped she didn’t sound too obvious. “I mean, how’s he doing with all of this?”

“Honestly, he’s taking it all much harder than I am. I’ll tell him you asked, but give him a few days to get his head in the right place. I gotta get to the art building before the bell.” Raven gave her a quick hug and dashed away, wiping her chin with the sleeve of her hoodie.

Devon felt a glimmer of relief, and she hated herself for it.

Bodhi was just grieving, which, she reminded herself, was totally normal. She had to remember not to take everything personally.
That was, after all, the beginning of the slippery descent into paranoia …

Devon spotted Cleo walking with a guy across Raiter Lawn. Who was that? He didn’t look immediately familiar. Tall, with blond hair—and then when a laugh erupted between them, the dimples. Of course: Fresh Blood. So Cleo had set her sights on the new dimpled addition to the hillside. Cleo caught Devon’s stare and waved.

“Dev! You going to English, right?” Cleo whispered something to Fresh Blood, and he held her hand for a brief moment before jogging away.

Interesting
, Devon thought as Cleo strode across the grass.

“We have English together, dork. Where else would I be going?” Devon called. The bell rang. Once Cleo was near, she lowered her voice. “And why am I only now finding out about you and Grant’s new BFF, aka Whatshisname?”

Cleo linked her arm in Devon’s as they hurried the last few steps to their small classroom. “Oz,” she said. “His name is Oz. Ohmygod, it’s crazy. I mean, crazy good. I’ll tell you after class. Or better yet, let’s get the hell off campus this weekend. My place in the city. We need it. Like we talked about, remember? Before Hutch’s grandpa died?”

“Um … that could work.”

Cleo stopped at the classroom door. “Stop it. I don’t want to hear it. No ‘we’ll see.’ No ‘that could work.’ ” Cleo mimicked Devon’s noncommittal voice. “You are getting cabin fever, and you’re so far gone, you don’t even know it.”

Cleo was right. She needed to get away—from this place and all its associations.

“Okay, done. But, I’m probably going to have to visit my mom if I go into the city.” She swallowed. She was still being a hypocrite. She wanted to talk to her mom both about the prescription and about the scholarship. Keaton would follow her no matter where she went.

“Fine,” Cleo said. “Whatever. Just as long as you promise to have a little fun.”

Devon raised her right hand. “I, Devon Mackintosh, solemnly swear to have fun with Cleo Lambert. Because I know there’s no way in hell she’d ever let anything bad happen to me again under her watch.”

Cleo’s lips curled in a naughty smile. “Define ‘bad,’
chérie
.”

B
ETWEEN
D
EVON
’
S MOM
’
S
needing to sign a permission slip, and Cleo’s dad’s assistant submitting the right forms, Devon was impressed any of them made it off campus at all. After Friday classes, she hurried to throw a bag together before Cleo’s driver arrived. She’d just about finished when her phone rang.

Bodhi.

She sat on her bed as the phone rang again and again. On the fourth ring, she answered, trying to sound cheerful but not overly so. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Hey,” Bodhi said. His voice was hoarse, grim.

Devon waited for him to say something more, ask a question, anything, but that was it. After an eternity, she drew in a breath. “So—”

“Raven said—”

She laughed, and to her immense relief, he laughed, too.

“You first,” she said. Better to find out if he was calling with a simple question or for a real conversation.

“Raven said you asked about me. I’m sorry I’ve been so MIA. It’s been weird around here.”

“Please don’t apologize,” she said. “I can’t even imagine.”

Another long silence.

“There’s a south swell coming up from Mexico this weekend,” he said. “I’m going to head down the coast, see what I can find.”

“Oh,” Devon said. “That sounds cool. You going alone or …” She hoped he would fill in the rest, maybe even mention he had
a spare seat. Only after the words had spilled from her mouth did she remember she was in the middle of packing to go away with Cleo.

“Yeah, you’d be totally bored. Besides, I need a few days away from this place. I need to clear my head, you know?”

She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat.
I feel the same way
.

“But when I’m back, let’s hang, okay?”

“Okay, cool. Have fun on your surf adventure. I’ll be in the city this weekend anyways. With Cleo—”

“Devon?” he interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“If Reed hadn’t … I mean, it was kind of good there for a minute, wasn’t it? I mean, between us?”

Devon smiled so wide, she was sure he would sense it. The afternoon sunshine pouring through her window suddenly brightened. Her hand trembled as she clutched the phone.

“Yeah. For a minute.”

“Okay, cool. Just wanted you to know. Our timing was kind of shitty, I guess.”

“Yeah, timing.” Paranoia returned full force, a cloud hiding the sunset.
Our timing was shitty? A past-tense thing? Was he saying that this didn’t work out? Or worse, he just wants to be friends and erase the kiss
. Changing the subject seemed like the safest move.

“Hey, since I’m going into the city, want to send me our friend Isaac’s address? Maybe I’ll do a mini stakeout or something.”

He laughed softly. “Mmmm, you sure you’re not going to do something on your own that you’ll regret? Or rather, that I’ll regret helping you do?”

“I promise. I’ll keep it risk free.”

“Fine, I’ll send it to you before I leave. Just … be careful.”

“You, too,” she said. “Out on the waves, I mean. You’re out of practice.”

Bodhi laughed again, for the first time sounding like his old self. “Bye.”

They hung up, and Devon let out a long breath. What just happened? Being nice and casual had clearly backfired.
I think I just got friend-zoned
.

T
HE TOWN CAR IDLING
in the parking lot surely belonged to Cleo. The trunk was already popped open, so Devon tossed her duffel bag in and hopped into the backseat. She nearly screamed when someone who wasn’t Cleo greeted her instead.

“Oz.” Fresh Blood extended a hand with his perfect smile. “Devon, right?”

“Uh … yeah,” she said, regaining her composure. “And you’re Oz? Welcome to Keaton. Must be weird starting this time of year.” She sounded like a jackass. She reached for the door handle. “Sorry, but I think I got into the wrong—”

“I’m waiting for Cleo, too, Devon,” he interrupted gently. “No worries.”

“Oh. Right.” Cleo had conveniently left out that part of this equation. Devon wanted to throttle her. “Your parents named you Oz? As in, the wizard of? It’s not short for something, like Osgood?”

He tapped against the window and smiled. “Just Oz, as in
follow the yellow brick road
. They’re suckers for musicals. Don’t ask.” With that, he unzipped his jacket and maneuvered around in his seat to get his arms free. The gesture felt weirdly intimate, even though Devon couldn’t place why.
She
was being the rude freak, not him. “I don’t know where Cleo is,” he added, “but I’m getting the impression time is a little flexible in her world.”

“That impression is right on.” Devon attempted to smile. “So you two are …” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to fill in the rest.

“We are raising our eyebrows together, yes,” he said. “You guessed it.”

He smiled back, and two deep dimples appeared. They made Devon cringe a little. But she fought her suspicions. She was just projecting her own bad experience with dimples onto Oz. Talk about textbook …

The door opened. “Oh good!” Cleo cried. “I’m glad you two are finally meeting properly.” Behind them, the driver slammed the trunk shut. Devon bounced in her seat from the impact. “Lemme squeeze in the middle seat there.”

Oz got out of the car while Cleo dove in next to Devon. “This is going to be such a fun weekend. Two of my favorite people.” Cleo nudged Oz. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. They already looked so comfortable, a matched set.

When the hell had this even started? But Devon knew that was jealousy talking, too. She’d been in self-imposed exile for the past couple of weeks. And she longed to be that much at ease with someone. She and Bodhi had never gotten into a comfortable phase, and maybe they never would. But Devon envied Cleo’s ability to absorb someone into her life so instantly. Still, as Oz smiled and wrapped his fingers around Cleo’s shoulder, Devon also wondered if Cleo’s ease was a liability. Just who the hell was this Oz person, anyway?

“I didn’t know I was third-wheeling your drive,” Devon said, fake smile intact.

Cleo sniffed. “Please, there’s no third wheel this weekend. We need to catch up, and we need to have some fun. Our agenda couldn’t be easier.” She kicked off her boots and tucked her feet, dressed in thick socks, under her. “So where are we with everything?”

Devon glanced at Oz, who was watching her intently.

“He’s up to speed. Don’t worry about him,” Cleo said casually.

Devon’s thoughts darkened. She squirmed in the plush cushions as the car pulled out of Keaton. If Cleo trusted him, she’d trust him for now, too. Besides, she no longer had a choice. “Nothing from Maya still since the funeral. But Bodhi and Raven haven’t heard anything from the Dovers, either, so maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Probably not. They’re just working up to the next phase.” Cleo squeezed Oz’s knee through his jeans, her fingers lingering on his thigh. “Oz, baby, wanna tell Devon what we have planned this weekend?”

Oz smiled at Cleo. Those ridiculously cute dimples made another appearance. “Well, tonight we will be staying at the lovely
chez
Lambert while Monsieur and Madame Lambert are conveniently out of town.”

Cleo giggled and blushed.

Oh, man
, Devon groaned inwardly,
they’re going to be one of those couples
.

“And then,” he continued, “on Saturday afternoon, Cleo and I and you, Devon Mackintosh, will meet for lunch at the Huntington House where, I have it on good authority, C.C. Tran is also scheduled to make an appearance.”

Cleo elbowed Devon. “Where we will observe, spy, sneak, and/or bribe our way into seeing what that bitch is really up to. What do you think, Dev? You in?”

Devon tried to match their enthusiasm. “That’s kind of amazing. But who’s your authority on C.C.?”

Oz’s dimples remained in place. “My sister is the hostess at Huntington House. She’s not supposed to talk about the members or anything, but we were talking, and this little tidbit rose to the surface.”

“A spy with insider information? You know I can’t turn that down,” Devon muttered, careful to appear grateful. Of course any leads on what C.C. was up to were welcome, but again she had the nagging thought that this was almost too perfect.

Had Cleo ever found out which school Oz transferred in from? If he had come from the city like Cleo had guessed? What were the odds he knew the Hutchins family or the Dover family? He seemed to know Grant. Being new friends was one thing, but if those two had history, Devon could only imagine what morsels of
gossip Grant had passed on to Oz about Devon. The possibilities made Devon cringe.

Best just to let Cleo and Oz snuggle during the drive. Devon preferred to look out the window at the green hillsides and distant ocean, anyway. Seeing C.C. would be one thing, but from now on when Cleo wasn’t looking, Devon would keep an eye on Oz as well.

Devon jerked awake to a bony elbow in her ribs. Night had fallen, and Cleo’s town car pulled up in front of her stately Nob Hill Victorian. They’d arrived. How long had Devon been asleep? It didn’t matter; she wanted out. She figured it was better to give Cleo and Oz the night to themselves before lunch tomorrow.

While Oz was helping their driver with the bags, Devon shook off her sleepiness. She grabbed Cleo’s arm before she could slide out. “Hey, you think your driver would take me to Berkeley? I might as well try to see my mom tonight.”

“Of course. But, that’s not because of us, is it? You’d have your own room here. We don’t have to be so obvious all the time …” Cleo looked out the back window at Oz, her eyelashes at half-mast.

Devon appreciated Cleo’s effort, but reasoning with Cleo would be futile at this point. “It’s fine. I kind of want to sleep in my own
house tonight, anyways. And we’ll meet up for the super secret mission lunch tomorrow. Cool?”

Cleo winked at Devon. “Okay. But you’re missing out on all the fun over here.”

Thank God
, Devon answered silently.

A
S THE CAR DROVE
over the Bay Bridge, Devon closed her eyes and imagined curling up on her mom’s couch. Add a thick blanket, whatever movie she could find on cable, and pizza from Cheeseboard, and she’d be a hundred percent content. She texted her mom that she’d be there soon—and could her mom pick up whatever pizza Cheeseboard was serving today? There wasn’t an immediate answer. But that was no surprise; her mom was still at work, and besides, she wasn’t expecting Devon until tomorrow.