Fan Fiction ❯ Falling For You ❯ Twenty Questions ( Chapter 15 )

Falling For You

Chapter 15

Twenty Questions

 

 

oOoOoOoOo

 

"If love is the answer, could you please rephrase the question?"
-- Edith Ann

 

oOoOoOoOo

 

 

 

“Devon, what's your favorite food?”

 

Looking up from his menu, the boy in question raised an eyebrow and leaned forward to prop his arms up on the table. “Macaroni and cheese, why?”

 

Breanna grinned coyly, shrugged, and then went back to perusing her menu. “No reason in particular, I was just curious.”

 

Not believing that for a second, but at the same time knowing that her motives would soon be revealed, Devon sat back and waited patiently. Though they had only known one another for about a month or so, he'd become very, almost disturbingly, familiar with all her little quirks and idiosyncrasies. Such as now, for instance. He could tell she had something on her mind because of the way she kept twirling the ends of her hair around her finger. She always did that when she was trying to figure out the best way to approach him about a subject that might potentially upset him.

 

Glancing over at her, Devon smiled softly. `She's so strange. Does she really think I can't tell she's up to something? Silly girl…'

 

“Alright, Bre, what are you scheming?”

 

Pasting a look of complete innocence on her face, Breanna giggled nervously and averted her eyes. “I really don't know why we keep coming back here. The food's terrible,” she muttered, gesturing around at the interior of the Denny's they were currently sitting in. It was a Saturday evening and the two had decided food was desperately necessary if they were to make it through the rest of the night. Knowing that he had none of that particular item in his house, he had suggested they venture out to what was becoming their habitual place for weekend meals.

 

While at school, they played it cool around her friends. Never allowing their eyes to rest on the other too long, or even talking to one another more than neccessary when in earshot of others who might suspect something of their intimate relationship. Devon had made sure to stay on the good side of all her friends, never really joining them, but always behaving in a way that kept him apart of the gang. He was a master at putting people at ease, Breanna quickly learned, and everyone seemed to like him just fine. Even Brent.

 

Yes, during the week they might have to keep their distance, but the weekends… The weekends belonged to him. Honestly, that knowledge was the only thing that kept him sane and enabled him to maintain the façade of being `just one of the guys.' Otherwise, the sight of Breanna hanging all over Brent would've driven him insane by now.

 

He would never tell anyone, especially her, but he was beginning to grow accustomed to having her around. Everywhere she went, Breanna seemed to bring along laughter and light. Vibrant, funny, and beautiful, Devon could see why she was so popular in school. Who in their right mind could possibly resist her sunny, sweet personality? He certainly didn't seem able to, despite the fact that he knew something the rest of them could only guess about.

 

She was a complete fraud.

 

Snatching the menu from her grasp, Devon sighed and gave her an impatient look. “Out with it, wench.”

 

“Alright, alright… I was just wondering if you wanted to play a game,” she replied cautiously, her shoulders tense in anticipation of his response.

 

Instantly reminded of the outcome of her last `game,' Devon grinned lasciviously and rubbed a hand over his chin. “What kind of game are we talking about here, Bre?

 

Blushing furiously, Breanna gave him a dirty look and ducked her head in embarrassment. “Not that kind of game, you pervert. I meant a real game. Twenty questions.”

 

Titling his head to the side in confusion, Devon looked at her warily. “Twenty questions?”

 

Nodding, Breanna smiled. “Yeah. You've never played it?”

 

“No…”

 

“Poor deprived child… You're in for a treat, mister,” Breanna informed him firmly as she slipped off her flip flops and sat Indian style in the booth. “Ok, the rules are simple. We each take turns asking a question, which the other, of course, answers truthfully. You only have one pass. Understand?”

 

“I guess, but…”

 

“Awesome. Me first. Let's start with something simple… What's your favorite color?”

 

Deciding to accept his defeat gracefully, Devon answered grudgingly, “Blue.”

 

Breanna snorted. “Typical.”

 

He frowned and gave an indignant huff. “Are you insulting my favorite color?”

 

“Of course not, Devon dear, I was simply making a comment. Oh, and that was one of your questions. Your turn,” she cooed sweetly as Devon glared at her.

 

Taking a moment to ponder his inquiry, his amber eyes lit up in triumph as the perfect one came to mind. “How long have you had that stick shoved up your ass?”

 

“What?” she sputtered incredulously as Devon chuckled at her expense.

 

“I said, and that was one of your questions, Breanna dear, how long have you had that stick shoved up your ass?”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

 

Flashing her his trademark wicked grin, Devon leaned back and basked in the brilliance of catching her in her own game. “Hmmm… I think that takes you down to, correct me if I'm wrong, seventeen questions, is it?”

 

“You're pure evil.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… Quit stalling and answer the question, Breanna.”

 

Breanna scowled. “I do not have a stick shoved anywhere, thank you very much. I am merely mature, responsible, and levelheaded,” she declared primly.

 

Making a gagging sound, Devon laughed as he skillfully avoided a sweet and low packet chucked at his head. “You're a stiff. At least, you are around your so-called `friends.' I've never seen anyone as good at faking it as you are. Very impressive, Miss Denton.”

 

“Rest assured, Devon, I never fake it.”

 

“Pah. As if you could.”

 

“Pig.”

 

“Fake.”

 

“I am not a fake!” Breanna insisted vehemently. “You don't understand how much pressure I have on me all the time! If I'm fake, it's only because I've been brought up that way, and learned from the best. Go talk to my mom about it.”

 

`Hmmm… `Guess I hit a sore spot…'

 

`Ya think?'

 

“What does your mom have to do with it?”

 

“Where in the world is our waitress?” Breanna muttered as she glanced frantically around the room.

 

“Breanna.”

 

“Uh, uh, uh. I believe you have asked your question, which means it is my turn.” After pausing a moment to collect her thoughts, Breanna continued with, “How long have you been a man whore?”

 

Fiddling with the lid to the salt shaker, Devon shrugged nonchalantly. “Man whore is such a harsh word. I consider myself more of an appreciator of the female form.”

 

Breanna waved away his answer impatiently and glared at him. “You're a man whore. Answer the question, slut.”

 

Devon shook his head and made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Such crude language coming from our resident mature, responsible, levelheaded student council president. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

 

Wincing as she kicked him in the shin under the table, he sighed dramatically and said, “If you're asking how old I was when I first starting having sex, the answer would be fourteen.” At her shocked expression, he smiled inwardly and made a flippant hand gesture. “So, I was a little ahead of the rest of the boys. Sue me.”

 

“Amazing,” she murmured as she gazed at him in blatant awe.

 

Chuckling, Devon reached across the table to flick her nose. “My turn. What did you mean by the comment you made about your mom?”

 

Slouching in her seat, Breanna picked at her manicure as she answered his question. “I meant that imperfection is not something tolerated by my parents. Especially my mom.” Shifting uncomfortably and tensing her shoulders as if recalling a particularly unpleasant memory, Breanna exhaled heavily and continued, “She has been molding me into the perfect daughter since the day I was born, and sometimes she drives me crazy. It's not that she doesn't love me, she does, I know she does… It's just that I wish I was allowed to mess up sometimes. Get dirty. Make a mistake. Did you know that I wasn't even allowed to try out for soccer?”

 

Devon shook his head.

 

Still picking furiously at her nails, Breanna laughed bitterly. “Nope. Mom refused to let her precious little girl run around and get dirty with the boys, even after I explained to her that it was an all girls team. She just doesn't listen to me. No one does. It's always about what they want. What they need. Mom, Dad, Cassie, Brent, all my friends… Sometimes it seems like the whole damn school is waiting for me to make their decisions for them and I just can't take it! Don't they understand that I have needs, too? Every once in awhile I need someone to unload on, too. Someone to bitch to and ask for advice. Maybe I'm being selfish, but I just don't care. I don't. I'm sick and tired of always being there for everyone else. I quit!”

 

Raising her head to meet his eyes, Devon was shocked at the amount of emotion he saw building there. Shocked and pleased. “How's it feel, Bre?”

 

Confused, Breanna replied, “How does what feel?”

 

Interrupted from answering her by the arrival of their waitress, Devon quickly ordered for them and waited until the woman was gone to refocus on the girl trying desperately to recover the air of sophisticated indifference obviously perfected at birth to hide away her true feelings. “Don't do that. You should know by now that you can't hide anything from me.”

 

Visibly slumping, Breanna flashed him a weak smile that didn't quite make it to her eyes. “How do you do that?”

 

He raised an eyebrow in question.

 

“How do you see right through me?”

 

`Probably the same way you see right through me…'

 

Gently pulling her fingers away from their nervous picking, Devon used the pad of his thumb to rub soothing circles on the back of her hand as he talked. “Because unlike everyone else, I'm looking. Really looking. What you're hiding really isn't that hard to see once you know where to find it.”

 

Unsure how to respond to that, Breanna went back to his earlier inquiry. “What did you mean when you asked me how it felt?”

 

Bringing her hand to his mouth, he kissed each one of her finger tips and reveled in the way she noticeably shivered at the touch of his lips. “It's not often that you show what you're really feeling. I was just wondering how you feel now that all that shit you've been building up inside of you is out in the open. I imagine quite… free. Am I right?”

 

No longer startled at how he seemed to read her thoughts, Breanna simply nodded.

 

“That's what I thought… Next question. What do you like to do for you? Besides me, of course.”

 

Smiling softly at his attempt to cheer her up, Breanna met his intense, fiery gaze and realized in that moment that he was the one person she'd never be able to lie to. More disturbing, however, was the recognition that she didn't even want to anymore. “Dancing. I love to dance. Ever since I was a child, actually. Ballet, jazz, contemporary… I loved it all. I used to take lessons, but my mom made me quit once I started high school. She insisted that it was just another way to distract me from my school work,” she told him a bit sadly, as if she knew that somehow she had been cheated out of something that could have brought her great happiness.

 

“Maybe you should start dancing again.”

 

“Maybe I will,” she murmured softly.

 

Not even trying to hide the disgust plainly evident on his face, Devon let a little angry growl slip past his lips. “No wonder you're such a freaking ice queen. Years of repression will do that to a person. Excuse me for saying so, but your mom sounds like a royal bitch.” Much like mine, he almost said, but decided that it wasn't the time or the place for that particular discussion.

 

Breanna chuckled. “She… Well, let's just say that her unique brand of bitchiness has been passed down through generations and generations. I've learned to just do what she wants me to do. It saves me the aggravation of having to kill and hide her body.”

 

“Sounds like you've got it all planned out.”

 

“Years of practice.”

 

“That's kind of sad, don't you think?”

 

“Sad?” Breanna snickered. “Like you have any room to talk Mr. Anti-social. Do you have any friends? Besides me, of course.”

 

Ignoring the slight flutter of happiness her words elicited, Devon slipped on his mask of aloof boredom and replied carelessly, “Don't need `em.”

 

Repeating a phrase he often used on her when he knew she was lying, Breanna whispered, “Bullshit.”

 

“Again with that foul language… I really have been a bad influence on you, haven't I?”

 

“What can I say? I'm highly impressionable. Someday I hope to be just as good at avoiding people as you are. You inspire me,” she punned blandly.

 

“You should search for a new hero. I'm not fit for that kind of worship.”

 

“Stop it, Devon! Just stop it! Why can't you ever just be straight with me? It's not like I ask for that much. Why is it that you're allowed to psycho analyze me all you want, but the moment I try to delve into your past, you shy away? It's not fair, and you know it,” she hissed, anger darkening her eyes and flushing her cheeks as Devon continued to gaze at her in that careless, smug way he had that infuriated her to no end.

 

Holding his hands up in surrender, Devon smiled. “What do you want to know? I'm an open book.”

 

Unwilling to wait one more minute for the rare opportunity to ask the questions that had been pestering her for weeks, Breanna blurted out quickly, “Why do you hold yourself distant from everyone else but me?”

 

“Because most people annoy me.”

 

`Because I'm afraid.'

 

Frowning at his evasive answer, Breanna continued, “Where does the rest of your family live?”

 

“Minnesota, mostly. I have other aunts and uncles scattered about, but the majority of them live in Minnesota.”

 

“Do you ever get lonely in that big house all by yourself?”

 

“No.”

 

`Yes, but not so much now that you're there to keep me company.'

 

“If you could be any one of the seven dwarfs, which one would you be?”

 

Without missing a beat, Devon replied, “Dopey. He rocks.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Breanna blurted out the question she had been dying to ask him ever since he had told her about his parents. “How did your parents die?”

 

Amusement instantly fading away into an emotion she couldn't make out, he said quietly, “Pass.”

 

“But—“

 

“Don't break your own rules, Breanna.”

 

“I didn't realize we were still playing a game.”

 

“We're always playing a game; don't you know that by now?”

 

Knowing the moment was lost, Breanna lowered her head in defeat. “Then I guess you won this round, huh?”

 

“Maybe. I imagine you still have a few tricks up your sleeve, though.” Chucking her lightly under the chin, Devon forced her to meet his eyes. “Not now. I'm not ready. Just… give me time, ok?”

 

“Ok.”

 

Giving her fingers one more squeeze, Devon sat back just as the waitress came to deliver their food. Chewing slowly on a French fry, he watched the methodical way Breanna separated and ate her food. He wondered if she thought of him the same way. If he was just an experiment she was dissecting into neat, tidy piles.

 

`You're a fool. Do you really think she's going to just let this go? You know she won't. Even if she's not vocalizing her questions, you'll be able to see them in her eyes.'

 

`I can handle it. I can handle her.'

 

`Ya know, you keep saying that, but I don't think you can. You don't even feel it, man, but you're already slipping…'

 

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

 

Sitting three booths down and to the right, a petite girl with glossy blond hair and tailored, designer clothing watched the lovers engage in their deep conversation with utter fascination. The fact that she couldn't hear a word they were saying was insignificant; their body language told her everything. It spoke of an intimacy far deeper than mere friendship.

 

“Bre-Bre…” she breathed, her delicate features twisted in shock, “What in world have you gotten yourself into…?”

 

Without a sound, the girl slipped from her seat, left a few dollars on the table for the waitress, and stealthily made her way out of the restaurant and to her car.

 

`Good God, Breanna… What have you done?'

 

 

 

 

 

*~~~~A/N~~~~*

 

 

 

Ok. I know. It's late. But, either you guys get really quick updates or longer chapters. Your choice. :o) Thanks for sticking with me. I love you all. A special thank you goes out to my friend, my muse, my editor (lol) Lauren. Without her help, this chapter and a lot of my other ones, would've been a long time in coming. I love you, chica. The best of luck in your new school year. Not that you need it… :o)

 

 

 

*~~Media Miner Reviewers~~*

 

 

wench: That she does, that she does… lol

 

 

*~~Anime Spiral Reviewers~~*

 

 

eatinalive: LOL Thanks. I'm glad you were… excited. I was so bummed when this site went down a couple weeks ago. I'm glad it's back. Thanks so much for reading. :o)

 

 

*~~Fiction Press Reviewers~~*

 

 

StormWolf: Hey, welcome back. lol I missed your long reviews for the one week you were gone. :o) I'm glad the inner thoughts amuse you, they amuse me, too. Probably a little too much. Cassie is going to play a much bigger part in the rest of the story. Though I'm sure you probably figured that out. lol Keep reading. I've got bunches of surprises left in store for you.

 

quirkyslayer: Augh. And I thought I had writer's block on the LAST chapter. Dear lord. This one took FOREVER. lol Thanks for helping me out. You rock.

 

FairyofDeath: Score! lol Thanks! Keep reading!

 

SweetKissOfChaos: -breaths a sigh of relief- No pink monkeys… Thank God. lol :o) And you know I can't answer that! Bad reviewer! Bad!

 

lostgirlUK: Yay and cool. Devon and my kitten are awesome, huh? lol The first chap really wasn't too bad, like I said. It just needs a little work. You'll get it.

 

alexialynne: LOL I think FP has it out for you. You might wanna try copying the review before you post, so if the sever does fail, you can just paste and try again. Don't worry about Brent. I'll take care of him. :o) As for the `signals' you mentioned, well, I'll leave that up to you to decide how significant they are. -winks-

 

bluz: Thanks! Keep reading!

 

Lightening Storm: Chemistry? Hmmm… Guess you'll just have to wait and see… You liked the song? Awesome. Honestly, I'd never even heard of it until I was looking for a song for that chapter. I just typed in `secrets' into the Kazaa search thingie, and that song popped up. It was neat.

 

Kayla: lol Yup… But don't hold your breath. We still have much angst and drama to come… :o)

 

Spastic: Yikes. Hope you weren't disappointed. Keep reading, and I'll see what I can do about your `hope.'

 

the-daughter-chosen: YAY! I get a gold star, I get a gold star -does a little dance- Don't worry. I like it, too, and don't intend on stopping. Thanks for the review… and the star. lol :o)

 

shmelly: LOL Too short?! It was ten pages, dear! lol But I think I'll take that as a compliment. Thanks. :o)

 

……: Nice screen name. lol Really? Yeah, they were kinda amusing together, but… I needed them to break up. It was kinda integral to the rest of the story, ya know? Sorry!

 

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periodic brilliance: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying it so much! Don't worry, I update every week, so no withdrawal symptoms for you. lol

 

Kayli: So angry… lol I can't tell you what's gonna happen with Brent, you'll just have to wait and see. Sometimes I wonder if you still like this story. It might be bad for your blood pressure. You crack me up… next review, please. :o)

 

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twistedklepto123: Yay! Keep reading. New details will run rampant through the following chapters.

 

 

 

 

Next Chapter: Shall We Dance?