For Ever (27 page)

He’s still holding me very carefully by the
shoulders, but his eyes remain closed, and his brow is pinched like
he’s concentrating very hard. I hold my breath until he opens his
eyes. The pit of my stomach tightens at his expression, and I
watch, mesmerized, as the back of his hand comes up and brushes my
cheek softly.

“Do you understand now what I feel for you?”
he asks.

His voice is as unsteady, and he’s shaking
with tension. The fact that I can’t tell which of us is feeling
more out of control makes me shiver again.

I can’t help it. I’m on a permanent
adrenaline high during the short drive home, and every time Ever
glances in my direction my stomach flips like I’m on a roller
coaster. The idea that our kiss was real—not a dream—is still
difficult to process.

When we reach my house, he walks me to my
front door. More than anything I want to stay in the present moment
forever. It feels like my life suddenly got put on fast-forward
after idling on pause for the longest time, and today could easily
fill up the rest of the days before it. Now I’m afraid to let go.
I’m afraid to let go of the connection to Ever. I fumble for my key
and look up at him.

“I’m glad I was the first to kiss you …” he
says softly.

He lifts his hand, carefully tracing my lower
lip. Echoes of earlier sensations to rush through my bloodstream,
and I want to wrap my arms around him and pick up where we left
off. Then I stop, running his words through my mind again. For a
single awful moment, I know something bad is coming. I open my
mouth to stop him from speaking, but I’m too late.

“But I had no right.”

His hand drops away from me, and I struggle
to understand how this day just went from my best to my worst in a
few seconds.

“What are you talking about?” I demand.

He shakes his head.

“It was a mistake. I could have hurt you, or
worse. That first morning you nearly died because of what you saw
through my eyes
. The closer I am to you, the less in control
I am—and the more dangerous it is for you.”

“But nothing happened,” I argue. “I’m
fine
. Never better.”

I smile, but it comes out crookedly. For a
second it looks like he’s trying to convince himself. Then he
shakes his head again.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I
shouldn’t have.”

“Then, that’s it?”

He touches my cheek once more before turning
away. I stand perfectly still for several moments, listening to his
car pull away. I unlock the front door and walk inside before
slumping down against the wood. I don’t even try to stop the tears.
By the time I stand up and turn on the light, the living room has
taken on a strange dreamlike quality, and my feet feel
disconnected, like they’re floating as I walk up the stairs. In my
room, I go to the bed and sink onto the mattress. My eyes are dry,
but it feels like my insides have been scooped out. My chest
aches.

Hearing my mom’s car in the driveway, I get
up stiffly and walk downstairs. I’ve just started pulling out the
ingredients for dinner when she walks into the kitchen.

“Hey, honey.”

“Sorry dinner isn’t more elaborate,” I
mumble, fiddling with the toaster oven.

“You already ate. Don’t bother. I can just
make a sandwich.”

When I turn to face her, she gasps.

“Honey! What’s wrong?”

I look away, heading to the refrigerator.

“Nothing.”

“Wren Sullivan, you’ve been crying all night.
What
happened? Did that boy do something to you?”

My mom’s anger makes me feel even more
miserable.

“No!” My voice comes out sharper than I
intended.

Why does everyone, including Ever, think he’s
going to do something awful to me? My mom crosses the kitchen and
puts an arm around me. I try not to, but I can’t help dissolving
into tears.

“It’s okay, baby.” She pats me on the
back.

I let her steer me over to one of the kitchen
chairs.

“Did you guys break up?” she asks
sympathetically.

“I don’t know.”

I sniffle, and she smiles knowingly.

“So you had your first fight. It’s okay,
Wren. Just don’t say anything you’ll regret later.”

Funny, I hadn’t even gotten the chance.

“Believe me, it’ll seem better in the
morning,” she says, patting me on the leg.

The toaster oven beeps, and she gets up.
Could my mom be right? Will everything seem better in the morning?
Deep down I know it won’t. Leaving my mom in the kitchen, I walk
upstairs, brush my teeth, put on my pajamas, and turn out the
lights in my bedroom. Crawling into bed, I stare at the ceiling and
think of nothing at all.

I know this is a dream, but it doesn’t help,
because I can’t wake up. I’ve been walking down a dark hallway for
a long time, and when I look down, I see that I’m wearing a long,
filmy white dress. But my wardrobe isn’t even the strangest part.
I’m still walking, but I can’t feel my feet touching the floor. And
from somewhere behind me, I hear Ever’s voice. He’s calling my
name, but instead of turning to look for him, I start running.
Faster and faster. There’s a large mirror up ahead, hanging in the
darkness. When I reach it, I study the face reflected back at me.
It’s mine, but it doesn’t look right. The reflection grins widely
and laughs at me.

The beeping of my alarm sounds very far away
as I reach for the snooze button. Reluctantly I open my eyes and
look at the clock. It’s much later than the morning before, and
instead of yesterday’s feeling of anticipation, all I feel is
dread. Making things worse, there’s a ray of sun peeking through my
blinds, cutting across the floor. I frown at the weather’s timing.
Why does it have to be sunny today of all days? Going to the
window, I raise the blinds and feel my heart pound before reality
catches up with me. There’s a black SUV—not Ever’s shiny
sedan—sitting across the street from our house.

Instead of getting ready quickly like the day
before, I stay in the shower for longer than usual. When I get
downstairs, I pack a minimal lunch and then grab my jacket. My mom
is still sleeping, and I don’t bother waking her. Walking toward
the bus stop, I stop at the corner and look back at the SUV. The
windows are too darkly tinted to see if anyone’s inside. I turn and
keep walking.

A little more than twelve hours ago I had
been blissfully happy. And for once I felt like every piece of my
life had fallen into place. As soon as I get on the bus, I put my
music on and ignore everything else until I get to Art. Ashley
jumps up and races over to me as I walk to the supply closet. She
flicks me on the arm.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“Uh, yeah. I think you know. I still can’t
believe you didn’t tell me. You promised!”

I rub my shoulder for a second before
grabbing an apron off the rack and turning to face her. Ashley’s
expression is wounded and reproachful. Suddenly I remember
yesterday’s exit from the cafeteria—hand-in-hand with Ever. The
memory makes me wince.

“You know how it felt when you weren’t sure
that Marcus was going to ask you to the dance?” I ask.

She nods.

“That’s kind of how it’s been with Ever,” I
exhale. “Only it doesn’t get any better. I thought he didn’t care,
then I thought he hated me, and then for half a second I thought he
liked me. … Now I don’t even know what to think any more.”

“Well, that sucks. But you’ve at least got to
tell me what those exchange students were doing here yesterday.
What were their names? Audrey? Jason? I mean they’re around for
five minutes last semester, and then they just show up and leave
again? What’s the deal with that?”

I shrug.

“I think they were just visiting. I don’t
know.”

“You were sitting right there,” she huffs.
“What’d they say? ’Cause the guy looked seriously homicidal.”

“Maybe that’s how his face always looks,” I
offer with a slight smile.

I’m not about to explain his irritation with
my presence.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she says
thoughtfully. “He did kinda look that way before.”

Ashley half giggles, half shudders. When the
bell rings, I hurry to my seat feeling worse than before. As the
day progresses, I don’t feel any better. Worse, actually. At lunch,
I can’t help staring at Ever’s table before joining my friends.
It’s empty, of course. Marcus throws a grape at me as soon as I sit
down.

“Ash says you’ve got a thing going on with
Space Boy,” he says, making his eyes go blank.

“No, I didn’t!” she squeaks, tickling him in
the ribs.

“Knew it! You rock!” Lindsay says, offering a
high five.

I look down and start peeling my orange.

“We are
not
going out. And please stop
calling him Space Boy,” I mutter under my breath.

“Then it was just a hookup?” Lindsay asks,
her eyes widening in mock surprise. “Sullivan, I didn’t think you
had it in you.”

I drop my head to the table and hide my eyes
with my hands.

“Can you let me know when you guys are
finished?”

“Guys, leave her alone,” Taylor says. “Maybe
she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

I raise my head and smile weakly at her.

“Well, none of
us
have scandalized the
student body,” Lindsay says. “Yet!”

She leans over and plants a kiss on Zach, who
turns bright red and starts grinning like he won the lottery.

“Uh, nobody look now, but … ,” Ashley says,
her eyes wide.

On cue, everyone turns, and my stomach
lurches in terror when I see what—who—Ashley’s referring to.
No,
no, no
. This cannot be happening. But it is. Chasen is sitting
at Ever’s table. Alone. His copper eyes burn through me before I
can turn away.

So, that’s it, then? Ever sent a replacement
minder to make sure I don’t fall off a cliff? Or worse … I wince at
the possibility that Chasen is here for reasons of his own. To
finish what Ever couldn’t do—and kill me?

“You want to go say hi to your new friend?”
Lindsay says.

I’m still frozen when she nudges me.

“No, definitely not,” I mutter.

“Come on, he looks lonely.”

She laughs.

“Hey! Do any of you fools want to drive out
to the coast on Sunday?” Josh asks, waving his hand. “We can hit
Short Sands or Cannon. Who’s in?”

Zach begs out because of work, but the rest
of us agree. The thought of revisiting the coast leaves me feeling
uneasy. A little more than twenty-four hours ago I had been closer
to Ever than I thought possible, and now I’m not sure if I can
stand seeing those roiling gray waters again.

On Wednesday I get a ride to school with my
mom, and when I get to Art, Ever’s empty seat remains a harsh
reminder that he’s gone. And this time I
know
it’s my fault.
In Chemistry, Jeff the quarterback is holding court with a few of
his cronies at the front of the room. I pass them without looking.
Even when a burst of snickering erupts behind me, I bite my tongue
and keep walking. If there’s one rule I learned in junior high,
giving them any attention will only feed the flames. And I would be
the loser who cares what they think. I’m not about to give Jeff and
his minions the satisfaction.

Lunchtime is an eerie repeat of the day
before. Halfway through my sandwich, I look up and find Chasen
staring stonily back at me like an absurdly beautiful gargoyle,
here to keep the evil spirits at bay. Even worse is the fact that
every time I blink, I see the image of Ever sitting in that exact
same spot. I hate knowing that when I open my eyes he won’t be
there.

By the end of sixth, an increasing pattern of
wispy white clouds has replaced the sunlight from the day before.
Patches of blue still remain, but this half-light makes me want to
scream. I crave dramatic, angry clouds and pouring rain. I’m
waiting at the bus stop with my hood up and my music playing way
too loud, when a vehicle—not the bus—pulls up and blocks my view of
the street. The sight of the dark SUV makes my jaw clench. I watch
as the window slides down, revealing the lone occupant. When Chasen
gestures to me, I grudgingly pull off my headphones.

“Get in,” he says. His tone is surprisingly
cordial, despite the inherent bossiness of his command.

“Right. Because I’m that stupid.”

He smiles.

“He said you were stubborn.”

The bus just turned the corner and will get
here in a few seconds. I stand up.

“You’re not going to incinerate me?” I
mumble.

“I don’t think my compatriot would be very
pleased with me if I did. He made that clear enough.”

As I walk toward the imposing vehicle, every
bone in my body screams that this is a bad idea, but I can’t get
myself to care any more. How could things get any worse? The door
pops open without Chasen reaching for the handle. Trying to look
cool and calm, I hoist myself into the passenger seat and slam the
door behind me.

“Not much of a conservationist, are you?” I
remark mildly.

“There are sources of energy other than your
dead dinosaurs,” he smirks. “You humans just don’t bother looking
very hard.”

This piques my interest, but I don’t have the
time or the energy to worry about his cryptic comments right now.
Instead, I get right to the point.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, seeing as you mortals are so easily
broken, Ever didn’t think you could make it an entire day without
damaging yourself.”

“And you got sent to baby-sit?”

He looks over at me, this time less pleased.
I enjoy my jibe for a second before remembering it’s not a good
idea to push someone who might want me dead. I flinch when, from
out of nowhere, Chasen produces a small, shiny silver box and
leaves it on the console between us.