Roommate's Virgin
“Devlin,” he said, with a curt nod.
“Gerard,” Mrs. Danvers said. “This young lady is Devlin’s girlfriend… Zoey. She’s a graduate of Columbia University.”
“Soon to be graduate of Columbia University,” I corrected quickly. “That is if I’ve passed my finals.”
“She most definitely passed her finals,” Devlin said. “I heard her play, she was amazing.”
Mr. Danvers turned to me curiously. “You major in music?”
“Yes, sir, I do,” I nodded.
“And I hear you play the piano.”
“I do,” I said.
“Well then, you must play something for us tonight,” Mr. Danvers said. “When the rest of our company arrives.”
“I would love to,” I said.
I sat down next to Devlin, and he put his hand on my knee. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to make sure I was all right or if he needed some support.
“Can I get you something to drink, Zoey?” Mr. Danvers asked me, and I was conscious of the fact that while he was making it a point to talk and include me, he wasn’t extending that same effort to his son. “You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?”
“Just barely,” I smiled. “But yes, I’d like a drink.”
“We have red wine and white,” Mr. Danvers replied. “We have scotch, gin, and champagne.”
“Uh… well, then I’ll have… a glass of white wine,” I said, panicking and picking the first thing that popped into my head.
“Chardonnay then?” Mr. Danvers asked.
“Sure.”
“And you?” Mr. Danvers asked as he turned to Devlin. It was almost like the offer was an afterthought.
“The same,” Devlin replied. “Thank you.”
I could feel how tense and stiff Devlin was and I squeezed his hand instinctively. “It’s ok… just breathe,” I whispered to him.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he whispered back.
“You’re doing great,” I said bracingly.
I was nervous myself. This was the first time I had ever met a boyfriend’s parents and Devlin, and I were going through our own little drama at the moment. But all this just reinforced to me how much I loved him. I knew that being here to support him was the right thing and I felt proud of myself that I seemed to be able to hold my own against his parents.
Devlin seemed to notice that too as the minutes ticked by and I answered his parents’ questions with a certain level of comfort and ease that I didn’t necessarily feel. By the time the first guests came by, Mrs. Danvers was laughing at something I had said, and even Mr. Danvers was smiling in appreciation. As they went to welcome the well-dressed couple who had just shown up, Devlin turned to me with bright eyes.
“You’re a hit,” he said, in amazement. “I actually think they might like me a little better because of you.”
“You’re doing well yourself,” I told him.
“That’s because I’ve barely said a word tonight,” Devlin replied. “And I’m avoiding all mention of my career path. It’s a sore point with both parents.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“No, I’m just telling it like it is.”
“My God,” the gentleman who had just entered came forward with his eyes on Devlin. “Is that little Devlin? I haven’t seen you since you were in high school.”