her star boy - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
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Devyn
For the first time in a week, I don't have a night shift. I could have cried when the rota came out and I saw Friday evening was the beginning of my three-days-off. If we're being really honest, I did actually tear up a little. Now it's the gracious day and I'm in my Nissan trying not to break every speed limit in my attempt to get home for my date. With my bed, because I don't date.
'Devyn, why don't you date?' you may ask. Because—and I hate to shatter dreams—but dating is not worth it. They say men mature slower than women; how about, they mature never. I tried, I really did. After I graduated high school and moved to Stanford, I didn't shut guys down like my heart told me to, and I went on dates. Some of them were good, and a few of them were terrible. Unfortunately, my first and only boyfriend ruined men for me forever, because now I firmly believe that all they do is lie.
Which they do, ladies.
I push the front door shut behind me and kick my crocs off at the shoe rack. All the lights are on, which they always are because my housemate seems to forget that we have to pay for the electricity in our apartment. Serena Whitmore is one of my closest friends, and I love her to death, but I'm pretty sure if she only left the lights on in the room she was in, we could afford to buy the kitten we've been talking about since our junior year in college.
"Devyn? Is that you?" she calls from her room on the left.
"Yes Serena, it's me," since we're the only two people that live here.
My bed is looking at me, begging for me to get in it when I head to the right of the apartment and push my bedroom door open. I'll make dinner, and then I'll shower and make a snack, and turn on Teen Wolf and put my sleep hoodie on and—
"Devyn we're going to a party."
I glance up at Serena from unpacking my work bag, who is stood in my doorway wearing the cutest white summer dress with her golden blonde hair falling down her shoulders in waves. I scoff.
"No way," I turn back to my bag.
"Dev, Noah's football team are having a party before the start of the season," Serena twirls in her dress before flopping down onto my bed, irritatingly graceful. "He needs me there for emotional support, and I need you for emotional support."
"Well why didn't you just say that, Reen!" I throw my hands up, smiling at her. "Of course I'd want to attend a party after my 12-hour shift to support a bunch of grown men that chase balls for a living!"
She narrows her eyes at me. "Are you being serious?"
I drop my smile, looking at her incredulously. "No."
"Dev please I'll never ask anything of you again, I'll do all the laundry for a month!" This grabs my attention. She knows how much I hate doing laundry. "Plus, I know you have a thing for athletes," she smirks at me, wiggles her eyebrows.
I strip out of my scrubs, revealing my so not sexy grey work underwear. "So now you're calling me a jersey chaser?" I raise a brow at my friend.
She throws her hands up in frustration. "Ugh!"
"I'm messing with you, Rena." I let myself smile then, for real this time. "I'll come with you."
Her face lights up again and she squeals a thank you, kissing me on the cheek before twirling out of the door. I want to do anything but attend this party, but lord knows I dragged Serena to more than I can count throughout our years at college. Being nursing students did not stop us; something about getting turnt and drinking alcohol that we didn't buy was just so appealing.
Those days are behind me, but it doesn't mean I can't go with my friend to support her man. Noah is a nice guy, for what he is and everything. A man, that is.
So, instead of pulling loungewear from my drawer, I pull out a lacy red set that makes me feel cute, before heading to the shower. Serena is waiting for me in my room by the time I've washed a day's worth of hospital grime off of myself. I realise she's laid an outfit out for me, and I smile, because there's nothing I love more than not having to rummage through my own closet.
"How long do I have?" I ask her, drying my hair with a fresh t-shirt.
"Noah will be here in an hour," she's scrolling on her phone.
I sigh wistfully. When she doesn't look up, I do it again. This time, she gives me her attention, rolling her eyes and letting out a breath.
"Oh Devyn," she says monotonously, "whatever is wrong?"
I look around with as much faux longing as I can muster. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about what would make this night better." I shrug, pretending to dismiss it.
But Serena knows my game, and she smiles. "Now what could that be?"
"A piña colada," I look down, then look up at her again through my lashes. "Virgin. With extra pineapple."
Serena stands, rolling her eyes and slapping my skirt clad ass cheek on the way past. I laugh.
"I love you! But don't forget my umbrella!" I call after her.
For the first time in a week, I don't have a night shift. I could have cried when the rota came out and I saw Friday evening was the beginning of my three-days-off. If we're being really honest, I did actually tear up a little. Now it's the gracious day and I'm in my Nissan trying not to break every speed limit in my attempt to get home for my date. With my bed, because I don't date.
'Devyn, why don't you date?' you may ask. Because—and I hate to shatter dreams—but dating is not worth it. They say men mature slower than women; how about, they mature never. I tried, I really did. After I graduated high school and moved to Stanford, I didn't shut guys down like my heart told me to, and I went on dates. Some of them were good, and a few of them were terrible. Unfortunately, my first and only boyfriend ruined men for me forever, because now I firmly believe that all they do is lie.
Which they do, ladies.
I push the front door shut behind me and kick my crocs off at the shoe rack. All the lights are on, which they always are because my housemate seems to forget that we have to pay for the electricity in our apartment. Serena Whitmore is one of my closest friends, and I love her to death, but I'm pretty sure if she only left the lights on in the room she was in, we could afford to buy the kitten we've been talking about since our junior year in college.
"Devyn? Is that you?" she calls from her room on the left.
"Yes Serena, it's me," since we're the only two people that live here.
My bed is looking at me, begging for me to get in it when I head to the right of the apartment and push my bedroom door open. I'll make dinner, and then I'll shower and make a snack, and turn on Teen Wolf and put my sleep hoodie on and—
"Devyn we're going to a party."
I glance up at Serena from unpacking my work bag, who is stood in my doorway wearing the cutest white summer dress with her golden blonde hair falling down her shoulders in waves. I scoff.
"No way," I turn back to my bag.
"Dev, Noah's football team are having a party before the start of the season," Serena twirls in her dress before flopping down onto my bed, irritatingly graceful. "He needs me there for emotional support, and I need you for emotional support."
"Well why didn't you just say that, Reen!" I throw my hands up, smiling at her. "Of course I'd want to attend a party after my 12-hour shift to support a bunch of grown men that chase balls for a living!"
She narrows her eyes at me. "Are you being serious?"
I drop my smile, looking at her incredulously. "No."
"Dev please I'll never ask anything of you again, I'll do all the laundry for a month!" This grabs my attention. She knows how much I hate doing laundry. "Plus, I know you have a thing for athletes," she smirks at me, wiggles her eyebrows.
I strip out of my scrubs, revealing my so not sexy grey work underwear. "So now you're calling me a jersey chaser?" I raise a brow at my friend.
She throws her hands up in frustration. "Ugh!"
"I'm messing with you, Rena." I let myself smile then, for real this time. "I'll come with you."
Her face lights up again and she squeals a thank you, kissing me on the cheek before twirling out of the door. I want to do anything but attend this party, but lord knows I dragged Serena to more than I can count throughout our years at college. Being nursing students did not stop us; something about getting turnt and drinking alcohol that we didn't buy was just so appealing.
Those days are behind me, but it doesn't mean I can't go with my friend to support her man. Noah is a nice guy, for what he is and everything. A man, that is.
So, instead of pulling loungewear from my drawer, I pull out a lacy red set that makes me feel cute, before heading to the shower. Serena is waiting for me in my room by the time I've washed a day's worth of hospital grime off of myself. I realise she's laid an outfit out for me, and I smile, because there's nothing I love more than not having to rummage through my own closet.
"How long do I have?" I ask her, drying my hair with a fresh t-shirt.
"Noah will be here in an hour," she's scrolling on her phone.
I sigh wistfully. When she doesn't look up, I do it again. This time, she gives me her attention, rolling her eyes and letting out a breath.
"Oh Devyn," she says monotonously, "whatever is wrong?"
I look around with as much faux longing as I can muster. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about what would make this night better." I shrug, pretending to dismiss it.
But Serena knows my game, and she smiles. "Now what could that be?"
"A piña colada," I look down, then look up at her again through my lashes. "Virgin. With extra pineapple."
Serena stands, rolling her eyes and slapping my skirt clad ass cheek on the way past. I laugh.
"I love you! But don't forget my umbrella!" I call after her.
End of her star boy Chapter 1. Continue reading Chapter 2 or return to her star boy book page.