by C. J. Valles
I grab his hand and raise it to my lips as we reach his car and he opens my door.
“I’m worried about my mom, and my life is strange … but I’m okay with that because I wouldn’t trade the time with you for anything.”
When he pulls out of the parking lot, I frown.
“Where are you going?”
“The bookstore,” he says evenly.
“I have a car now, remember? That’s kinda why I’m working in the first place.”
“Would you humor me?” Ever asks, his eyes unreasonably persuasive.
“Okay,” I smile. “But just so you know, I hate getting driven to work in an Italian sports car.”
A few minutes later, Ever slides into a parking space and gets out to walk me to the front of the store. He leans down and kisses me, and I have to force myself to pull away. As I walk toward the store, I stop and look back. Ever’s expression is serious, reminding me of last year when I first saw him and how I thought he would never smile.
Inside, I see Mike at the counter. Pretending like I didn’t see him, I quickly walk toward the stockroom. Mike is the twenty-something-year-old guy going to the community college near our house. He looks like a less attractive version of Chasen. A much less attractive version of Chasen. If it were possible for Chasen to be unattractive. And Mike’s personality—pompous and smarmy—makes him generally unpleasant to be around. Like most of the other female employees, I avoid him whenever possible.
Reaching the stockroom, I glance around. It’s dusty and plain—just a sea of cardboard boxes, really—but if there’s one thing I’m grateful about when it comes to my job, it’s that I don’t have to deal with any customers. I’ve heard way too many horror stories. Long lines of angry customers, people coming in and pitching an absolute fit because they want to return something without a receipt, employees’ pay getting docked because the registers came up short.
Clocking in, I look for a box cutter. This job has led to more paper cuts than I can count, all of them healed by Ever. My job isn’t exciting. All I do is verify shipments, sort stuff for different areas, keep track of inventory, and process the returns. I like it, though. Plus, it means cash for my ugly turquoise car.
My job also reminds me what normal life is like.
The door to the stockroom swings open, and I cringe inwardly when I see Mike. He likes to show up and sit around while I work until our boss comes looking for him, usually because his break ended fifteen minutes earlier. When he’s not around, she calls him a walking human resources nightmare. Meaning he follows every girl who works the same shift as he does.
Ever has come into the bookstore on multiple occasions, making it quite clear that I have a boyfriend, so obviously Mike either A) doesn’t care, B) thinks he’s valid competition against Ever, or C) is completely obtuse. I vote for a combination of all three.
“How’s my favorite under-aged worker bee?” he says, sitting down on a box across from me.
My nose crinkles automatically. He smells like cigarettes and Cheetos, two of my least favorite things in the universe.
“Turning eighteen very soon.”
“Noted,” he says in the sleaziest way possible.
With a look of barely contained disgust, I slash open a box with a little more force than necessary and take out the shipping invoice. When I look up, Mike catches my gaze with his watery blue eyes.
Nice legs, he smirks to himself.
“Mike?” I snap as he leans toward me. “Touch one of my appendages, and you die.”
He smiles and retracts his hand.
“Aren’t there some of-age girls you could be following around?” I ask peevishly.
“You know you’re my favorite.”
I think about Ever listening to this conversation. Other than the sprinkler-system malfunction in the cafeteria involving Jeff Summers, Ever and the others are under strict instructions not to mess with any humans—even if they deserve it. Still, I worry that this jerk is going to get out to his car one night and find it crushed to the size of a tuna can.
“You’ve seen my boyfriend, right?”
He laughs.
“That blond male-model type is your boyfriend?”
I restrain myself from pointing out that the male-model type could easily snap him in half or turn his brain into runny pudding. When the door swings open, I exhale when Rita pokes her head in.
“Mike? Any plans to work this evening?”
He grins.
“I was just helping Wren here lift a few boxes.”
I scowl at him. Working at the bookstore has had it benefits—including the fact that I can now lift boxes nearly half my weight with no problem.
“Well, I’m taking off,” Rita says with barely contained annoyance. “I need another body up front at the registers. Now.”
My co-worker stands up and saunters toward our manager, turning back to wink at me. Shudder. But I still prefer his company to Victor’s. Because at least my creepy workmate isn’t planning to use me as a means of initiating mass destruction.
My shift today is short—only four hours, but the rest of it passes by slowly, which is the funny part about waiting for someone to pop out and steal my life: I can be simultaneously bored and terrified.
By the time I clock out, I’m restless and edgy. It doesn’t help that the second I walk out the door, I smell Mike before I see him. No matter how many times Rita tells him not to smoke in front of the store, he never listens. I turn and see him leaning against the building. When he pushes off and comes over to where I’m standing, I try to hold my breath as he exhales a plume of smoke from the corner of his mouth.
“Is Goldilocks late?” he smirks.
I smile as I see Ever appear behind him.
“No. He’s right behind you,” Ever says.
“What the?!”
I smirk as Mike spins around, his cigarette dangling unattractively from his lower lip.
“Where the hell did you come from?” Mike gasps.
Ever looks over Mike’s head at me.
“Wren? Shall we?” Ever asks, holding out his hand for me to take.
I nod, trying not to giggle as Ever steps around Mike. As we walk around the corner of the building to Ever’s car, he looks down at me with a playful grin.
“Would you be angry if his car doesn’t start tonight?” he asks as he opens the car door for me.
I sit down, and when I look over, Ever is already in the driver’s seat.
“You can’t be jealous of Mike. I mean, he’s just … yuck.”
Ever reaches out with one long, bronzed hand and touches my knee, sending a burst of warmth through me.
“You forget that I have to listen to his every waking thought.”
I arch an eyebrow.
“Can’t you just, you know, tune him out? You can’t be listening to everyone’s thoughts all the time. There’s gotta be a mute button, right?”
“Not for those thinking of you.”
“But he can’t be thinking about me that much.”
“Anything is too much,” Ever says seriously as he pulls out of the parking lot.
“Come on. Half of Springview was mentally undressing you last year. Not that I blame them, but it was a little depressing—not to mention every female in a five-mile radius thinking you’re some kind of tasty snack. I don’t have to read everyone’s thoughts to know that much.”
“Does it help that you’re the center of my universe?”
I smile.
“Maybe a little bit.”
The problem is that when I get home, I’m reminded of my biggest problem. My mom is banging around the kitchen, getting ready to go to work, which means she’ll be around Dick. It makes me wonder. Is that what Victor expects me to become? A part-time human? A tool?
“She’ll be fine,” Ever says quietly as we walk into the kitchen.
“How do you know that?” I whisper back.
“Because Victor wants you compliant, not enraged.”
&
nbsp; It’s hard not to see Ever’s logic. If anything happened to my mom, I would lose it. Just the thought makes me a little unhinged. I have to concentrate to smile when she turns around.
“Hey, Mom.”
I walk over and wrap my arm around her shoulders.
“What’s the emergency?” I ask her as she scans the kitchen like it’s stolen something from her.
“My department’s doing this whole water conservation program, filling up bottles with filtered water rather than buying plastic—and I can’t find mine.”
Walking over, I open up the dishwasher. The bottle is right there on the top rack. I turn and hold it out.
“You’re a lifesaver, honey.”
“You want me to make dinner and leave some for you?”
“Thanks, but Richard’s working the night shift. He offered to get takeout on my break.”
Ever may be right about Victor not hurting my mom, but I still don’t want his half-human creep hanging around her. Ever clears his throat in an abnormally human way, and my mom suddenly looks over at where he’s waiting in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Aw, Ever. I’m sorry if I gave you an evil look yesterday.”
He smiles, which is hypnotizing.
“Caroline, I will never hold it against you for being protective of your daughter.”
“Hey!” my mom says, clapping her hands together. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we have Richard over for dinner, and you can show off your culinary skills? Ever, you’re invited, of course.”
Shaking my head, I try to contain the wave of nausea rolling through me.
“Mom! The only thing I know how to make is tortilla soup—”
“That’s perfect! All right, I’ve gotta get going.”
She hurries over, kisses me on the cheek, and pats Ever on the shoulder as she heads toward the front door.
“I’ll call to check in before you go to bed!” she says over her shoulder.
I turn and smile at Ever.
“Got that?”
An hour later, we’re in my bedroom—studying. At least I am. Second semester of senior year, and I’m supposed to be coasting. And I would be, if I didn’t despise Trig so much. To Ever, my obsession with finishing out my high school education with a respectable GPA is probably a bit pointless. But I need to know that I’ve really lived every second of my time as a human. Or, if my end is near, and there’s nothing after this—or, worse, I’m possessed—then this is all I have. Either way, I can’t take anything for granted. Even Trig. I look up from my homework to find Ever staring at me, his own expression mirroring mine.
“Your leaps in logic are truly profound. From Trigonometry to mortality?” Ever asks.
I shrug.
“Your fault for reading my thoughts.”
“I only wish they were happier thoughts.” He smiles. “Is there anything I can do to improve them?”
“Maybe.”
Ever rises from the chair at my desk and comes over to where I’m propped up on the bed. When he pulls me up, I smile and lean forward to kiss him.
9: Regret
Since the moment I first saw Ever, time changed. I can think back to entire years that run together like watercolors in my memory. But my time with Ever is both slow and fast at the same time. So much has happened in such little time, but each moment with Ever is crystal clear, achingly real. And if he disappeared tomorrow, it would leave an empty space in my heart. I know without a doubt that I would feel the pain of it eighty years from now.
What scares me, though, is that I feel a hole—a nagging emptiness—where Alex had been in my heart. Without my permission, he took part of me with him when he left this world. I want to hate him. Or forget him.
So why can’t I?
The easy answer is that he sacrificed himself to save me. But it’s more than that. What I felt for him didn’t just go away when he brought my memory of Ever back. Something between the two of us changed. Ever keeps saying that the only reason Alex did what he did is to drive a wedge between us, but the question Alex asked the night we stayed in Tierra del Fuego remains.
… was there a moment during this past week—if this week had been all we had and Ever hadn’t found you—that you could have loved me?
I can still hear the desperation in his voice and in mine when I answered him. He asked me an impossible question with an impossible scenario. Ever did find me first, and I love Ever. That has never changed. But then what do I feel for Alex? And is ignoring my feelings smart—or even possible? I wish I could talk to my friends about it. But to them, Alex is just some stranger who showed up and then left again with no explanation. How could I even begin to explain my connection to him?
It’s the middle of the night, and Ever left hours ago. I’ve been lying in bed, wide awake. Again. I’m starting to think that I’ll never get another night of good sleep. Right now, I’m trying not to look at the clock, afraid of how much—or how little—time has passed since I last looked. It’s late, that much I know. My mom is already home from work, which means she’s safe, away from Dr. Dick. She’s asleep, and as for me, I need to get up in a few hours to go to school. But I can’t stop thinking about things … and people I shouldn’t be thinking about. Pushing back the covers, I sit up and throw my feet over the edge of the bed.
As I walk through the darkness to my bedroom door, I pause, listening. It’s quiet. I put my hand on the doorknob and twist. My eyes are used to the dark, but I move slowly. The mirror that had once scared me now calls to me. I feel hungry for proof that Alex still exists, desperate for a way to save him.
I could say that it would make us even—he saves me, then I save him—but I know it’s more complicated than that.
Stepping in front of the glass, I stare into it, searching for something beyond my reflection. I hate myself for it, and the guilt overwhelms me. It must cut Ever like a knife when my thoughts disappear, because I’m sure he knows by now exactly why my thoughts disappear and what I’m thinking about. I’d like to feel self-righteous and angry with him for invading my privacy, but I can’t. I just feel confused and guilty, like there’s a fire consuming my soul.
The thought of hurting Ever because of my feelings for Alex causes me to drop to my knees. Choking back tears, I wish desperately that I could just forget Alex. That I could pretend I never loved him. That I could pretend that I hadn’t watched him sacrifice himself for me.
Feeling arms slip around me, I freeze in fear before looking up and seeing Ever. He kisses my forehead and then easily scoops me up, carrying me silently back to my room. As soon as he sets me down in bed, his fingers trace over my cheeks, the heat of his touch drying my tears.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper before a sob chokes me.
I’m afraid he’s going to leave or hate me, or both.
“I had no right to unleash this world on you.”
I shake my head.
“Stay with me,” I gasp.
My plea is barely even audible, but before I know it, Ever is pulling me into bed and holding me against his chest. I shudder and rest my head against him, exhausted and vaguely aware that I can’t hear a heartbeat pulsing in my ear, just my own uneven breaths.
I’m afraid to sleep, because it’s dangerous. What, or who, will be in my dreams? I hold myself to Ever and think about the first time I saw him in Art class—the time I saw him and didn’t fall unconscious. He was a beautiful, perfect statue then. And it seemed impossible that our paths would cross, but I was still obsessed with him from the moment I stared into his perfectly vacant, bright green eyes.
“You brought me to life,” he says quietly.
“I think you’ve got your mythology mixed up,” I hiccup. “You’re talking about Pygmalion, right? He sculpted her and brought her to life. I didn’t sculpt you—I wouldn’t have done such a good job.”
Ever laughs softly.
“Sleep, Wren.”
I feel safe and very warm as I press myself closer to Ever and close my eyes.
Ever is by my side as I cross the student parking lot, which is strange since he’s not at Springview anymore. The bell rings, and I hurry toward first period—but rather than going to Health, I walk toward Mr. Gideon’s room. The door is standing open, and walking in, I freeze when I see who’s sitting in class. Ashley and Matt—and Josh? Marcus? Taylor? Lindsay? Kayla? Chris? What are my chemistry lab partner and her fan boy from Laguna Niguel doing here?
I shake my head. It doesn’t make any sense. Then I turn and see my mom sitting in my seat.
“Mom!”
She smiles at me before her eyes turn coal black.
“Hi, honey!” she says cheerfully.
My friends turn and look at me, too, all of them with matching black eyes. I swing around toward the teacher’s desk and see Victor staring back at me. My stomach drops. Kneeling in front of Victor with their heads bowed are Ever and Alex.
“Choose,” Victor says graciously.
Opening my mouth to scream, I fall backward into the waiting darkness.
I wake up two minutes before my alarm and stare at the clock like it’s the device’s fault that I happened to wake up right before it was about to go off. Remembering last night’s events, I reach out, my hands searching for Ever. But I’m alone—and tired. It doesn’t feel like I slept at all, but I don’t remember any of my dreams. I’m glad. If I dreamed of Alex again, I don’t want to feel guiltier than I already do.
Dragging myself out of bed, I walk out into the hallway and straight to my mom’s room just to check on her. The door is ajar, and I can see her in bed, fast asleep. Heading to the bathroom, I get ready before collecting my stuff. Downstairs, there’s a note on the counter from my mom saying she’ll use the list I started to go to the grocery store during the day. The note also says not to bother making dinner for her because she’s getting dinner with Dr. Dick. I crunch the paper up in my hand and shove it in my pocket as I take out the milk and search for cold cereal.
By the time I step outside, I’m relieved—more than relieved—to see that even though my car is parked out front, Ever is still waiting for me. As I walk toward him, I wonder what he would be doing if he weren’t here, if I didn’t exist. I’m sure he could be doing more exciting things than hanging out while I’m sleeping. Rising up on my toes, I kiss him.