Evade (The Ever Trilogy)

by Russo, Jessa

  “You ok, Doll?”

  I was tempted to say something snarky, but I refrained. Frankie’s worry was written all over his face. Jessie’s, too. They were as shocked by all this as I was. Though, luckily for them, Ariadne wasn’t their sister.

  Ugh.

  “Could they have picked anyone worse than her? I mean, shit! Of all people!”

  My words came out muffled and slightly incoherent, as I cried into my pillow like a ten-year-old who’d just been told she couldn’t get a puppy, but I didn’t care. Ariadne was my sister. I think I had a right to behave any way I felt like behaving. Temper tantrums. Crying outbursts. Fits of rage. Murderous thoughts. It was my party and I’d cry if I wanted to.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “No, Toby, you can’t come in. I thought I made that clear when I shut the door in your face.”

  The person on the other side of the door didn’t respond, so I did.

  “It’s ok, Jess. Let him in.”

  Even with my face pressed into my pillow, I could tell when Toby was on this side of the door because Jessie started interrogating him the second the door closed again. I kept my face hidden, letting the tears soak into the pillowcase. Frankie’s hand rubbed my back, but I felt a new tension in him with Toby’s presence.

  “—uh-huh. So you’re saying you didn’t know?”

  “Yes, Jess, that’s what I’m saying. I swear I didn’t know, Ever.”

  “Don’t talk to her. You’re talking to me right now, and I’m not done with you yet.” God I love this girl. She had her invisible journalist hat on. “So you’re trying to tell me that you had no idea that Ariadne was related to Ever? That you had no idea that monster was from the same bloodline as my best friend?”

  I sobbed a little louder at that statement, not wanting to be reminded that we shared blood.

  “Sorry for that, Ev. But seriously, Toby, you had no idea?”

  “You guys, I swear. I had no idea.”

  Something popped into my mind, unwarranted again, of course, but my mind always threw things at me when it felt like it, and not necessarily when I felt like being reminded. It was funny that way. I sat up, turning myself to face Toby. Something inside me clenched in response to the pain on his face, but I ignored it. His feelings were not my concern.

  I remembered standing in the front yard, the day he moved in next, his head tilted to the side as he analyzed me.

  “The first day we met. The day you moved in. You…the way you looked at me…you knew.”

  His eyes widened ever so slightly, but I caught the gesture. I’d watched for it. I nodded in response, my lips pursing in anger.

  “Wait, Ev. It’s not what you think. I didn’t know. I promise. But when I first saw you that day—the way your hair looked, and your eyes—the shape, not the color—I couldn’t help but see the similarities.”

  “You knew then, and you didn’t say anything.”

  “No. I didn’t know. I swear. I just thought…well, you know how people say that everyone has a twin in this world? Well, I don’t believe that per se, but I just thought you two had some similarities, that’s all. And once I got to know you”—he shook his head—“you were so different from her. Complete opposites. I knew it was impossible. There was no way you two could have been related.”

  Impossible, huh?

  “But it’s not impossible, is it?” I wasn’t actually asking anyone, just stating the ugly truth. Ariadne was my half-sister. My dead, half-sister, Estelle Rosella. Who clearly, wasn’t dead. And clearly wasn’t the graceful, charismatic girl I’d imagined my sister would have been.

  “No, Ev, I guess it’s not. I’m so sorry.”

  I looked back up at Toby, and with his spoken apology, I felt all my anger move slowly to him. Logical or not, he was standing before me and Ted wasn’t, so he got the brunt of it. Winner, winner, chicken dinner. I stood up and moved to stand in front of him. I felt Frankie come behind me, as if he worried he’d have to restrain me or something.

  Well, if the shoe fits…

  “You’re sorry?” I shrieked in Toby’s face. “Sorry? As if it wasn’t enough to find out my dad died because of me, I—”

  Toby’s eyes widened, and Jessie gasped. I didn’t pause long, hoping that if I continued like nothing had been said, no one would focus on the part about my dad.

  “—I now have to find out that my dead sister is alive and my mom’s a big fat liar! Oh, and guess what? If that isn’t enough, my not-dead dead sister is Ariadne of all people! The devil! I think it’s safe to say I don’t want your ‘sorry’, Toby! I don’t want anything from you!”

  He cringed slightly in response to my harsh tone, but didn’t back down, and didn’t respond. He let me have my moment—just standing there and accepting the burden of my outburst like he deserved it. Like it was his fault. His eyes were sad, for me, and as I stared into their dark blue depths, I began to slump. My misdirected rage slowly dissipated, and I felt like a horrible jerk. None of this was really his fault.

  My dad’s death, the truth about my mom and Ted, the horrific secret of Ariadne…Toby had tried to protect me from what he could, and some of it he’d been in the dark about himself. Blaming him was wrong.

  I fell into him, crying into his shoulder. His arms tightened reflexively around me.

  Jessie gasped again, and I realized what I’d done.

  I pulled away from Toby, and looked into his wide eyes. I’d just fallen into his arms. His arms. Not Frankie’s. Something stirred inside my chest. A tiny flutter of feeling…and guilt. Shit.

  Acutely aware of the heavy silence in the room, I tore my eyes away from Toby’s and headed back to the bed. Frankie sat down next to me, his arm possessively wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me toward him.

  “I’m sorry, you guys. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle.”

  “No,” they all said, practically in harmony.

  Jess sat down beside me. “Oh, Ever. You don’t have to apologize. Seriously. We’re your best friends”—she paused, glancing at Toby to acknowledge the fact that he wasn’t actually my best friend—“and we love you. You don’t have to be sorry for being upset. This is all so crazy.”

  There was a light knock on my door. We all turned toward it but no one moved to answer it. We just stared in quiet unison.

  Another knock.

  “Ev? Honey?”

  My mom. I wasn’t ready to talk to her. I looked at Jessie and shook my head from side to side. She nodded and slipped outside my room, leaving me alone with Toby and Frankie.

  No one said anything for a few minutes, so I heard the muffled beginning of my mom’s and Jessie’s conversation. My mom sounded anxious, and I could understand, but I was just not ready to talk to her yet. I was relieved when Jessie ushered her away from the door.

  That relief ended abruptly when Ariadne came into my room uninvited, and of course, without bothering to knock first.

  “Hey, sis!” She flopped down on my bed, and I could only imagine the look on my face.

  “Ari.” Toby’s voice was scolding, but Ariadne met his gaze with defiance.

  “Oh come on, guys, why such long faces? Ever and I are sisters! Shouldn’t we like, oh I don’t know, share a room or something? Talk about boys? Share boys”—she winked at Toby—“Share fashion tips?” She turned her angry gaze on me, and I felt myself shrink unwillingly under her stare. “Well, I think we both know how that’s going to work,” she sneered. “I can share, you can listen.”

  I remained silent, unwilling to engage.

  “So, what now?” Ariadne asked as she took a seat at my desk. She flipped through one of my books, and I stared hard at her fingers, willing them to stop assaulting my stuff. It wasn’t even natural to have her in my room.

  She brought her eyes back to me, but her fingers still rested on my book as she continued speaking. “I mean, I dated Toby, then you dated Toby. Now you’re dating Frankie, so I should…”

  She trailed off, but sh
e didn’t have to finish. By the way she looked up at Frankie from behind thick, mascara-covered lashes, I was well aware of what she was going to say.

  Fat chance getting Frankie. Fat freaking chance.

  “Ariadne, that’s enough. Seriously. What’s wrong with you?”

  “God, Toby, relax. Always jumping to her rescue, aren’t you? But fine.” She spun the chair to face me. “Seriously, though, what the hell, right?”

  “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  “What do we do now? I mean, I don’t want to be friends or anything.”

  “Great. Me either.” I shrugged. Was I supposed to be offended by her statement? I wasn’t sure. But I definitely wasn’t offended. She was pretty much the last person I wanted to be friends with, sisters or not. Ugh. Sisters. I shuddered involuntarily.

  Why couldn’t Jessie have been my long-lost sister?

  “Great! So that’s settled,” she said as she stood up and headed for the door. “I’m going to go on pretending you don’t exist, and you can go on pretending you don’t wish you were me every day of your life. Deal? Deal.”

  She walked out the door, closing it behind her.

  I shook my head. No need to bother dignifying her craziness with a response. Other than punching her of course, but was I allowed to punch my sister? Probably not.

  I was pretty sure that was frowned upon.

  Iwas basically still in the same place I’d been in all night, only I was alone, and it was way past lunch time. Toby left right after Ariadne last night, and I was slightly disturbed to see him go, which in itself was much more than slightly disturbing. But he’d wanted to grab some stuff and make some arrangements for our next step. Apparently Operation Ruin Ever’s Life had only delayed—not canceled—Operation Run For My Life.

  Jessie and Greg left shortly after Toby last night, because Jessie hadn’t been home yet since getting back from Mexico. Not to mention that watching me stare at the wall like a crazy person probably wasn’t all that fun.

  I hadn’t wanted to leave my room the rest of the day yesterday, for fear that I’d have to talk to my mom, or Ariadne would have taken her place as my sister, moved into the house and redecorated, or something equally silly and not at all likely. But nevertheless terrifying.

  I had a sister. A sister who was not my dad’s daughter as I’d thought she was all these years, and who was also—clearly—not dead. Big shocker, that one was. Then there was the fact that my mom was a liar, and oh hey, I still hadn’t confronted her about it. Not for a lack of trying—on her part. She’d made attempts well into the night, and continued all day today. I’d ignored her all night. And all day.

  Like I ignored her now.

  She knocked on my door. Again. I felt a bit guilty ignoring her but I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to say.

  Gee, Mom, thanks for the sister, but I really wanted a puppy?

  Right. Somehow I didn’t think that’s what she’d want to hear. But what did she want to hear? More so, what did I want to hear? What could she possibly say to make this okay? Since I didn’t have the answer to that question, I continued ignoring her.

  I shrugged at my own train of thought. Made sense to me.

  Frankie would come back down the hall again any minute, bringing me a late lunch…or, well, dinner I guess now, since it was almost five o’clock. Linner. At this point, I didn’t really care if his presence in my bedroom bothered my mom. For one thing, I was eighteen. For another, she was a liar and I was angry.

  I heard her address Frankie when he got to my door. Her tone of voice could only be described as pleading.

  “Please get her to talk to me, Frankie. Please.”

  “You know how she is, Mrs. Van Ruysdael. She can’t stay mad at you for long.”

  Well, hmph. Is that so?

  All right, yes. It was true. I was surprised I’d held out this long, truthfully. Almost a whole twenty-four hours. Wow. That was probably a record for me but I hadn’t been keeping count. And frankly, nothing had ever warranted a silent treatment of this intensity before now.

  I didn’t hear my mom’s response, or see her when Frankie opened my door, so she’d obviously walked away again to give her knocking hand a rest. Frankie sat down next to me on the bed. I dug into the microwaved taquitos, not worrying about the guacamole smeared on the side of my mouth. I was starving. This was the first time I’d eaten today. There was way too much on my mind, so I hadn’t been hungry. Until I was, of course, and by then I was so far past hungry I thought I was going to die of starvation.

  Frankie watched me in silence, a crooked smile on his face. After a few minutes and practically licking my plate clean—though I could have eaten at least a dozen more taquitos—I stood and set the plate on my desk. Halfway through turning around, Frankie’s hands were on my waist, pulling me toward him. In a mess of giggles, I fell on top of him on the bed.

  “Shh!” he whispered between laughs, mock-chastising me. “Don’t let your mom hear you having fun in here! She’ll never believe you’re still mad at her and then I’ll have to leave!”

  He was right. Which meant we were totally taking advantage of my mom. She was probably only letting Frankie stay in here—with the door closed—because she knew I was mad at her and probably felt guilty.

  I’m a total jerk.

  “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  Okay, I’m a beautiful total jerk. Ha.

  “Ha,” I whispered in response, then licked the guacamole from the corner of my mouth. “What does it for you, the plate of food I just inhaled, or the guacamole on my face?”

  “That’s easy. It’s the guacamole. Hands down.” Making his point, he reached to run his finger across my discarded plate, then smeared a bit of guacamole on his cheek and grinned. “See? I’m practically irresistible now.”

  “Yeah, um, not so much.” I wiped his face, then tossed the napkin on top of the plate on my desk.

  I leaned down, bringing my lips to his, and kissed him, happy to be able to forget about everything else for just a moment. He slid his hands from my waist, following the curve of my back, until his fingers slid into my hair. Slowly, he turned us over so he was stretched out on top of me, my head on the pillow. I melted into his kiss, wanting to forget everything else, and remembering how less than a week ago it had just been Frankie and me. No Mexico. No drama. No Seekers.

  No sister.

  And no Toby.

  Frankie pulled his head back, breaking our kiss way before I was ready. I pressed my lips back against his where they belonged, and laced my fingers behind his neck, pulling his head towards mine. He kissed me for a few more minutes, and I ran my fingers lazily up and down his torso, then through his hair, feeling the lean angles of his shoulders, the slight curve of his neck, keeping my hands on him at all times. After feeling disconnected from him for a little while now, then experiencing the fear of being kidnapped, I wanted to immerse myself in my safe place.

  Frankie moaned, then deepened our kiss. He pressed the weight of his body into mine, resting on his elbow, then ran one hand down the length of my side, gripping behind my thigh, then pulling my leg up and around him.

  Ha. I win.

  Smiling, as if he knew what I was thinking—because I swear he probably did—he pulled away once more.

  “Dollface,” he said, the word coming out as almost a groan. I was pleased to note he was a bit breathless, even though he was the one pulling away from me. “First of all, your mom’s in the other room.” He planted a small kiss on my bottom lip. “Second of all, your mom’s in the other room.”

  I sighed. He was right, again. This sucks.

  “When are you going to talk to her, anyway?” He extricated himself from my arms then stood beside the bed. I glared at him as he did so. “Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that. You know you want to talk to her. You’ve never ignored her this long.”

  That’s not why I‘m glaring.

  He leaned down to kiss me briefly, then ruffled my hair. What th
e hell? Talk about romance.

  “So?” He smoothed his shirt and jeans, then sat down at my desk chair.

  “So, what?”

  “When are you going to hear what your mom has to say?”

  “Tomorrow. I’m still not ready.”

  “I get that. But she’s really upset about this, Doll. I think she’s worried you won’t forgive her for keeping the truth from you.”

  “Of course I’ll forgive her. She’s my mom.”

  “I know that, and you know that, but right now, she’s out there pacing holes in the carpet and psyching herself out. So maybe you could just—”

  “No. Not yet, Frankie.”

  “Okay, I won’t force you. Want to tell me what you’re most worried about?”

  “No.” I climbed off the bed and approached him, then leaned in to kiss him again, but he rolled the chair out of my reach.

  I swung a fist at his chest. “Jerk!”

  He grabbed my hand before it connected with his body, pulling me into his lap to straddle him. He held my hands behind my back, and wouldn’t let me kiss him.

  “Stop, Ev. I’m serious. I want to talk to you, and we can’t do this”—he paused to nip at my bottom lip, then lowered his voice to a whisper—“while your mom is most likely lingering outside your bedroom door.”

  “Fine,” I said, unable to keep the disappointment from my voice.

  “I’m here when you’re ready to talk about it, you know? But I’m also here if you’re not.”

  “I know.”

  “There’s something else, though, isn’t there? Something about your dad?”

  Ah. So last night’s slip-up hadn’t been forgotten after all.

  I sighed, resting my forehead against his and wishing he’d let the subject go.

  “You can talk to me, you know? No matter what it is, Ev, we’ve always been able to talk about anything.” He rubbed my back and waited.

  “I’m the reason my dad died.”

  “What? Why would you think something like that?”

  “Toby told me.”

  Frankie tensed, his hands quitting their back and forth motions over my back. He wrapped his arms around me and drew me tighter to him.