Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better by Lauren Barnholdt, Nathalie Dion Read Free Book Online Page B

She does it so fast that I almost lose my hand.
    “I was just putting our notebook in your locker. You could have broken my fingers just now, you know?” What is the deal with people being so secretive all of a sudden? First my dad and now Mel.
    “Sorry,” she mumbles. “It’s just . . .” She shoves the paper she took from me into her bag.
    “It’s just what?”
    “I dunno, I saw you looking at something, and I figured you might have been messing up something important.” I look at her, and she slides her eyes down to the floor. Something’s definitely going on here.
    “Something’s definitely going on here,” I say.
    “No, there isn’t,” she says.
    “Yes, there is,” I say.
    “No.”
    “Yes.”
    “No.”
    “Then show me that paper!” I hold my hand out, waiting for her to hand it over.
    “No!” she almost screams. “I mean, I can’t. It’s private.”
    “It’s private?” I ask her incredulously. “Since when do we keep secrets?” Mel raises her eyebrows at me. Okay. So maybe I kind of sort of didn’t tell Mel thatmy parents were having problems and were thinking about maybe getting divorced. And maybe Mel kind of sort of found out when her mom ran into my grandma at the store. But that was ages ago. Three weeks, at least.
    “Okay,” I say. “Point taken. But we’ve turned over a new leaf! I don’t have any secrets from you right now. You know everything that’s going on with me, and I want to know everything that’s going on with you. We’re BFF.” Mel doesn’t look convinced, so I rush on. “For example,” I say. “Last night at mock trial I made up a fake boyfriend, and now Luke wants to meet him.” I give her an encouraging smile. “Now you go.”
    “You what?!” Mel shrieks.
    “Unh-uh,” I say, wagging my finger at her. “Not until you tell me yours.”
    Mel takes a deep breath, “Devon, I—”
    At that moment, a boy with blonde hair who’s wearing a blue and white striped polo shirt passes by us in the hall. As he does, he gently tugs on Mel’s hair. Then he turns around and winks at her. Mel blushes as red as a tomato.
    “Who,” I say, “was that?”
    “Oh, that’s Dylan,” she says. She suddenly becomesvery busy opening up her locker, turning the combination. But she’s all flustered, and her hands slide past the numbers she needs.
    “And who,” I say, “is Dylan?” I’ve never heard of this Dylan, much less know why he’d be pulling Mel’s hair. It seems very . . . flirty. Is this Mel’s secret?
    “He’s just this guy who’s in radio,” she says. “We ended up talking for a little bit last night about broadcasting and stuff.”
    “Ooooh,” I say, leaning against Mel’s locker. “You guys were taaalking.”
    “Come on, Devon,” she says, but her voice sounds like she’s trying too hard to seem nonchalant. “He’s an eighth grader.”
    “Ooooh,” I say, “An eighth graaader.”
    Mel giggles and fake hits my shoulder. “Devon, come on, be serious.”
    “I am being serious. I mean, this sounds very serious.” I look at her, and see her still blushing. “I thought you liked Brent Madison?”
    Mel gives me a look, one of those “like that was ever going to happen” looks. I nod, but don’t say anything. Besides him asking about her once when I ran into him at the mall, Mel hasn’t had much success with Brent.
    “So tell me about this Dylan,” I say. I’m excited.New crush! Yay!
    “Wellll.” Mel finally has her locker open, and is collecting her books for her first class. “I don’t really know that much, except like I said, he’s in eighth grade. And very nice.”
    “Girlfriend?”
    “I don’t know. He didn’t mention one.” She looks nervous.
    “Hmm. That could mean either he doesn’t have one, or he just didn’t want to mention her, which means he’s a jerk.” Mel’s face falls at little at the thought of Dylan being a jerk. “But,” I hurry on, “he just did some very public flirting with you, and