Chapter Two- Black
I hate the mall.
I absolutely hate going to the mall.
The mall plus Charles equals curious people. People always equate to questions and questions… well, those always lead to headaches and a shit load of trouble for me.
I wish I would have, or better yet, could have, suggested somewhere else.
But I said I would go to the mall, just to get out of my house for a bit and to, hopefully, stay out of trouble. Whenever I'm with Chuck, he seems to keep me out of trouble and I like it that way. At the same time, he draws a lot of attention to us because he's friggin' gorgeous. I envy him.
I wonder, if I looked like Charles, would people overlook my flaws as easily as they overlook his?
"You're rather quiet," I glance at Chuck out of the corner of my eye.
"No, I'm not," or rather, 'Yea, and?' He just shrugs and stops in front of the food court.
"I don't know, you usually say something about your screwed up day."
"I do not. Besides, my day was peachy." 'I know but today totally sucked knuckles.' I usually do bring up something but I don't like to talk that much. Talking only and always leads to trouble when I don't have my translator there.
Besides that, I spent most of my day trying to avoid James and that new girl. She scares the shit out of me and, from what I hear, she's out for my blood too. James wasn't enough for her? And I didn't even do anything.
"Well, I'll buy us some food and you can tell me about it when I come back."
"Where are you going?" I probably look like a wet cat right now because I'm terrified of being alone in the mall of all places.
"To the bathroom, I promise I won't be long. Just wait for me at a table and I'll be back in five minutes, tops." I nod because I really don't trust my voice right now. "Don't worry, you'll be fine." He smiles at me and I manage to smile back but that's a lie.
I'm almost positive now that all my smiles are just comfort lies. You know, the kind of lies you use to make those around you happy but you're never really happy at all. No one can ever tell the difference between my real and my false expressions, even Chuck can't pick up on them from time to time. Yea, I can't even tell the truth through facial expressions. It's rather sad actually.
I watch as Chuck makes his way across the food court and toward the bathrooms. I don't know why, but I'm starting to get the feeling that something bad is going to happen and it's going to happen very soon. I'm usually never wrong after all of these years of constantly getting in trouble for something that's out of my control. But you would think, after all of these years of being around my family, they would understand me by now.
"Devyn, Devyn, Devyn… it's odd how I always find myself bumping into you, don't you think?" Dear God, if there is a God, please let the ground open up and swallow me now. You had to let him find me didn't you? James, of all people…
"No. We hang out all the time, this is nothing new." Mouth, why do you do this to me, why?
"You only wish, queer. Look, I need you to do me a little favor. Think you can do something for me?" His ugly face is so close to mine and I just want to disappear. His favors are never little and I generally get in trouble. Oh, what am I saying? I always get in trouble.
"Sure, anything to help." 'No damn it, no. Just go away.' Anytime now God, anytime… or Chuck. Where the hell is he?
"I'm glad you agreed because I wouldn't want to tell the principal that I know who put graffiti outside of the gym." James just smirks and I wish I had the balls to wipe it off of his face.
"Dude, we so did that last week," I glance at one of the three meat heads standing behind James and I want to laugh. They definitely fit the "dumb jock" stereotype and that's rather sad. James just glares at the one that spoke out of turn before he looks at me again.
"I need you to go to World of Music and steal me that new 50 Cent CD." If it's only 50 cents, why do I have to steal it? I have 50 cents in my pocket right now. I'll just buy it for him and say that I stole it.
"Sure thing, I'll be right back." Well, maybe this isn't as bad as I thought it would be.
"We'll be waiting right here for you." At least Chuck will know where to find me when he gets back.
"Um, can you tell me where I can find the new 50 cent CD?" The girl smiles at me and nods. Questions are about the only time a get a break from this lying thing. Sort of hard to lie in question format, right?
She leads me over to a big display with a cardboard, life size, cutout of a large black man in a bulletproof vest and I glance at the giant words across his chest. In big bold letters it says, '50 Cents Sophomore Album: The Massacre.' I blankly stare at the CD's on display and want to vomit. I didn't know people still listened to this crap. More than that, I can't believe it cost 19 dollars to get it. Oh, how our society has fallen.
"Do you need anything else?" She's smiling at me and I really wish she would've just walked away like any other normal, rude, teenaged worker would do.
"Um… Yea, can you bring me a Bob Dylan CD?" I fucking hate Bob Dylan with a passion.
"No problem, I'll be back in a sec." Maybe I can take this stupid CD before she makes her way back here. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to afford this crap.
So here I am, stuffing a CD of the worst music this generation has into my hoodie and attempting to make my way out of World of Music without getting caught. If say this was going to be easy I so take it back now. I'm so close to the door, so very close, I can practically smell the cheesy mall plants. And, to top things off, I don't have to touch that horrid Bob Dylan CD. Things couldn't be better.
"Hey, you! What's that you have?" Is this really happening, really? I fucking jinxed myself. Some guy grabs my arm and turns me to face him. I stare at him and he's just staring at me right back with these intense, dark brown eyes.
"Nothing. Why would I have something? In fact, I don't even like music." If I could kick myself, I would. I love music…good music anyway.
"Let me see what you have in your hoodie." Well, even if I wanted to hide it, I fail because I dropped the stupid thing on the floor.
I know it's going to be a train wreck from here on out. He bends over and picks up the CD and examines it before giving me one of the scariest looks I've ever seen. I bet it would even scare my mother, and well…you've met her. Not exactly a perfect lady. He grabs my arm again and starts dragging me out toward the door.
"This is shoplifting. I hate thieves." I cringe when he says that because I'm honestly not a thief. I just can't get into anymore trouble at school because, next time I do, they're gonna expel me and I definitely can't have that.
I'm always getting into trouble because of this stupid brain and mouth disconnection, also known as my stupid disability. And, if that's not bad enough, I'm always confessing to things I didn't actually do such as… things like this. Fucking James. He's really the only reason I'm always in trouble at school to begin with.
"I wasn't stealing it, I was just holding it for a friend." One of these days I'm going to learn how to instantly faint. That will save me a lot of trouble.
"More than thieves, I hate liars." The venom in his voice literally stings. Hurts so much I almost didn't notice everyone staring at us as we passed them and made our way to the security office.
We walk down this long white hall and stop in front of a door that says 'Employees Only.' I know what's coming next as he opens the door and the guards glance at us quizzically. One of them narrows their eyes when the spot me standing behind this guy.
"What have you dragged in to us today Detective?" He's a detective?
"A shoplifter." The guy glances at me again and pulls me to the middle of the room.
"Another one? All right, Marcus…what's your name kid?" The bigger guard glances at me as he takes out a pad and a pencil.
"Butters." I don't know where the hell that came from but it was the first thing that sprung from my mouth. I honestly couldn't help it.
"Butters? Come on, kid, if you make this easy, we can make this easy for you." The small guard just nods in approval and just when I'm about to respond, there's a knock at the door.
"I got it." The guy they called Marcus swings open the door and standing there in the hall is Charles. How the hell did he find me?
"Chuck!" Everyone glances at me as Charles walks into the room. Cue me, running toward him in slow motion with a relieved grin. Okay, not really.
"Who the hell are you?" The smaller security guard glares as Chuck as he stops to stand beside me.
"I'm his keeper, Charles Morrington. I got wind that, while I was in the bathroom, some bullies from school were harassing him and made him do something dumb." Charles is my God. What would I do without him?
"Is this guy your keeper?" The Detective just stares at me with his hard chocolate brown eyes and I nod affirmatively.
If I weren't freaking out right now, or under different circumstances in general, I'd appreciate how hot the detective guy, Marcus was it, really is. I think he's Native American, although, I haven't really seen many Native Americans before. He has long black hair that I didn't really notice before and a body that I should probably be jealous of. Yeah, he's definitely sexy but those eyes scare the hell out of me.
"I'm sorry he caused so much trouble but thought he'd be okay sitting in the food court. Devyn is mentally handicapped, you see, and he doesn't have the brain capacity to tell right from wrong. He might as well still be a two year old, mentally." The two security guards are practically eating this up as Charles continues to feed them my phony sob story.
I don't know what it is about Charles but he has a way with words that makes everyone around him compliant and satisfied. He could tell people that the sky is red and, knowing him, they would all believe him without a second thought on the matter. It's been this way for years. I'm just glad he doesn't use that kind of thing on me.
"Alright, kid, we'll let you go with a warning but, next time someone drags you in here or we get a call that identifies you as the culprit, we're pressing charges." I can feel that Detective's eyes burning holes into my head. I nod meekly as Chuck apologizes one more time before leading me out of the room.
We silently walk down the hallway and as soon as we make it out to the mall again Chuck stops to stare at me. His caramel brown eyes look rather bright, even in the dull mall setting. He places a firm hand on my shoulder and sighs as he uses his other hand to push his hair out of his face.
"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. Hell, I'm sorry I left you there in the first place." I smile, and it's real because Chuck is, well, Chuck.
"You're not forgiven, not this time." In other words, 'Thank you so fucking much and of course I'll forgive you.'
"It's okay, you know I'll always have your back." His smile is reassuring.
"Wait, how'd you find me anyway?"
"I saw James and his goons sitting where I left you and when asked where you were, one of those dumbasses spilled the beans. It didn't take me long to figure out where you'd be from there."
"I would've been fine without you." 'God am I glad you're a genius.'
"It's all right. Let's go get something to eat, my treat, and then I'll bring you home." Sometimes I wonder what I would do if Chuck weren't here and I've figured it out.
I'd either be in a mental ward or prison. It would be society's choice, of course, but neither option tickles my fancy. Hmm… I highly doubt it tickles anyone's fancy.
Anyway, I'm just saying that I owe Chuck more than he owes me and I'm happy to have him as a friend.
If only I could tell him that.
Hello all, I'm DeathsDrug and I've finished the second chapter for you all but not without the input of the talented Nilah E. Rose of course. I'm glad she's letting me join her for this ride and I do enjoy her company.
I hope you continue to like Devyn and Charles now that you've all gotten to know them better and I hope I made this chapter live up to what you were all expecting. What a way to meet a hot cop, right?
Please review to let us know what you think.
DeathsDrug & Nilah
MxM. SLASH. The life of a reluctantly adorable pathological liar is never easy. But the truth hurts, liars will always lie, and besides, mendacity is so much easier than facing reality. "Did you kill these women?" "Yes. I did it officer. Lock me up, I shot them dead." "…They were strangled." "Oh… Right, I meant that."