This Side of Home by Renée Watson Page B

applications and I just don’t have time. He’ll understand that.
    I fold the paper, put his name on it, and slide it in his mailbox. A car drives onto the street. I think maybe it is his aunt coming home. But I am wrong. The car pulls into the driveway and backs up, turning around so it can go back to Jackson Avenue.
    I walk away, leaving this dead-end street.
    On the bus, halfway to Essence’s house, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out, see Devin’s name flashing on the screen. I don’t answer.

Chapter 33
    I am in the den when the doorbell rings. Dad calls out, “I got it!” So I don’t bother to get up. But then I hear Devin’s voice, so I go to the door and crack it open, just enough so I can peek through to make sure it’s him.
    Just as I’m about to close the door and hide, Mom sees me. “Devin’s here,” she says. “Your dad is finally finishing my sewing room today. They’re painting the walls.”
    â€œOh, uh, that’s, that’s good. ’Bout time, huh?” I haven’t told anyone that I broke up with Devin. This probably isn’t a good time.
    Mom looks at me like she’s trying to figure something out. “You’re not going to come and say hello? I hear he has good news.”
    I come out and walk with Mom to the kitchen. Dad is smiling so hard, I am sure his cheeks will hurt later. He kisses me on my forehead. “I can’t believe you kept this from me, Maya.”
    I look at Devin.
    Devin stutters, “Oh, uh—no, she, I didn’t tell her yet.”
    Dad steps back, looks at both of us. “Sorry I ruined the surprise.”
    Devin says, “It’s okay.” He looks down at the floor.
    Mom looks at me, her face confused. “Well, aren’t you going to congratulate him? It’s not every day a student gets a full ride to Morehouse College.”
    I don’t even realize the tear rolling down my cheek until she hands me a napkin. I hear her whisper to Dad that they should leave, and when they do, I reach out to Devin, take his hand. He pulls me into himself and we hug. Tight. “I’m so proud of you,” I whisper. “And I’m so sorry I—I still care, I just—”
    Devin wipes my tears. “Don’t apologize. I get it.”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œYeah, I mean, I’m busy with school, too. Senior year is hectic,” he says. “But maybe we can try it again in Atlanta.”
    I don’t know if I should ruin this moment for him. It’s not fair to make this about me, about us, whenreally it should be about him accomplishing the thing he worked so hard for.
    Devin knows me, though, and so he steps back and says, “It’s not about school. We’re not getting back together, are we?”
    â€œNo,” I admit. “I’m sorry, Devin. I should’ve been honest with you. I just, I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to stick to our plan.” I feel like I’m just babbling, so I stop talking. Then I take a deep breath and say what I think I’ve been feeling this whole time. “Devin, I think I wanted to be with you because everyone else wanted me to be. But really, you’re my friend—in every sense of the word. We’re like—”
    â€œLike best friends?”
    â€œYes,” I answer.
    â€œAlways?”
    â€œAlways.”

Chapter 34
    Christmas is in three days. Tony and I meet outside in front of my house and walk over to Jackson Avenue. He is shopping for Kate. It is cold today, December cold. No rain, no sun. Just an ordinary gray day. The shops along Jackson Avenue are decorated with Christmas lights, and the sidewalks are full of shoppers walking in and out of the boutiques.
    There are cars parked at every inch of the curb, even on the side streets. I don’t know if I will ever get used to my neighborhood being the place where people flock
to
instead of flee from.
    Tony