Page 85 of Devil in Disguise

It rang four times and went to voicemail. She tried again. Same thing.

She thought a minute, then called Annabelle.

“Hey!” Annabelle said, sounding just delighted. “I thought your final was tomorrow. Are you nervous?”

“No,” Dyma said. “Yes. Anyway, I’m trying to reach my mom, but it keeps going to voicemail.”

“She went to bed early. Nick was up a lot last night, I think, and she was dragging today. She could barely even eat dinner. Do you need me to wake her up, or …”

“No,” Dyma said, the guilt weighing her down. “Never mind. Oh—I’ll call you later this week, once I’m done with finals, and catch up.” She thought about telling Annabelle, but she couldn’t explain this ten times tonight. She had tostudy.

She called Owen. It was way too late for him. She called him anyway.

“Hey,” he said, sounding sleepy. “What’s up?”

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s, what? Eleven-thirty there. I’m sorry. I just …” Now that she was talking to him, her hands had started to shake.

“What?” he asked. “Is it your final? You can do it. You’ve studied. You’ve got this.”

“No. You’ve been so awesome to me, and I think … I’m afraid I may have just made your life awful. And Harlan’s. And mymom’s,right when she’s postpartum and everything.Why didn’t I just say, ‘No comment,’ like everybody else in the world knows how to do? Why?”

“Hey,” he said. “Slow down, now. Tell me from the beginning.”

She did. He sighed a few times along the way, and Pavanigaspeda few times along the way, but afterwards, Owen said, “Well, can’t be helped. They’d have done that story anyway. And none of it’s a secret.”

“Yes, butOwen.I told them about you not having sex with high-school girls! Plus,I was wearingsweatpants!And no makeup! I looked like one of those videos you see online of crazy women losing it in Walmart and screaming at people!”

He laughed, and she did, too. Clutching her forehead, her knees up under her chin, curling into herself, but at least she could still laugh. He said, “It’s better than you telling them that Idohave sex with high-school girls. Doesn’t sound like you said too much. And hey—most times anybody takesmypicture, I’m sweaty and dirty and have grass stains on my butt.”

“Yeah,” she said, “but you’re not supposed to be pretty.”

“Neither are you,” he said, and she thought,What?He went on, “You’re supposed to be a college student who’s studying for finals. There’s no Pretty Police out there to give you a ticket for lowering your standards. You do you.”

“What’s everybody going to think of you, though, when they see that you have an ugly girlfriend?”

“Why would I care?” he asked, and she had to stop a second and let that sink in.

“You’re right,” she said. “You’re totally right. But would you tell Harlan when you see him at breakfast? That this is coming out, I mean? I can’t call my mom until after my final, and I want everybody to have a heads-up, because who knows when it’ll happen.”

“You bet,” he said. “But don’t worry too much. Harlan and Jennifer got pregnant, they had a baby they both love, and they’re getting married. You and I fell in love, and we’re dating. You’re going to school, you’re brilliant, and you’re doing a job with no reward to it but minimum wage, because that’s the kind of hardworking family you come from, just like me. Yeah, Harlan and your mom both have a sad backstory. Know what that is? That’s a heartwarming feature, not a scandal. Nobody hit anybody. Nobody hurt anybody. Nobody brought the NFL into disrepute. Just two couples in love, doing life the best they can.”

“OK,” she said. “I really do have to go study. And you have to go to sleep. But—Owen?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss you. And I love the heck out of you.”

“Yep,” he said. “Me, too.”

* * *

Nothing happenedon Tuesday except that she came home after her final, lay down on her bed, wrapped her soft-as-clouds Owen-coat around herself, and slept for two hours. After that, she took a shower to wake up and started studying for her Statics final the next day. She should have called her mom, probably, but she didn’t. She had to focus on this. Shehadto. And by the time her mom calledherthat evening, presumably after Harlan had relayed the bad news, she was a little embarrassed about how big a deal she’d made over it. It was probably just that she’d been so stressed about finals.

“It sure sounds like they’re going to do a story,” she told her mom, “which won’t be that fun, but really, who cares, right? Like Owen says, none of it’s a secret, and besides, you guys’ story is really sweet. And there’s adorable Nick, too. How’s my baby?”

“I’ll show you,” Jennifer said, and did. Nick was on his back on his baby-gym blanket, staring with unfocused eyes at the hanging toys, his little legs separated by the cruel-looking metal brace that ran between his special shoes, and waving his arms like that would make something happen.

“Aw,” Dyma said. “Toys can be so confusing.”