Ever (The Ever Trilogy)

by Jessa Russo

  “So, back at the house, you said something about not going to regular school. Did you drop out or something?”

  “Oh no, nothing like that. I’m homeschooled.” Here it comes. I cringed slightly and braced myself for ‘the look,’ but it never came. Weird.

  In fact, he seemed genuinely interested in my homeschooling. I proceeded to tell him all about it, leaving out the part about why it began in the first place. Somehow, I couldn’t imagine telling Toby that my mom started homeschooling me after—or because of—Frankie’s death. I’d been such a mess after he died—and came back—that I’d had an enormous amount of trouble in school. Not like starting fights and smoking, though I did try both at one point, but basically just not being able to focus on anything—or caring to. All I’d wanted to do was get home to Frankie. So eventually, my parents decided to just teach me at home.

  We got down to the beach and found a large grouping of rocks. We climbed up to the highest point we could reach, and he sat down, taking my hand in his. As he pulled me down to sit next to him, I couldn’t believe how amazing it felt to hold his hand. More of that excited warmth spread through me at his touch. I wondered if Jessie felt this every time she dated a new guy. It could be the reason she chose to go out with a new guy every weekend.

  As the sun descended, turning the skyline impossible hues of orange and purple, I found myself able to open up to Toby almost completely. He was good at prompting me to continue, but it was difficult to be one-hundred percent open with him without sabotaging myself by bringing up Frankie. I managed to pay very close attention to my words, and after a few hours, I felt I’d exhausted my life story—all seventeen years of it.

  When he asked about my neighborhood, I mean, our neighborhood, it became even more difficult to keep Frankie a secret. So instead of talking about anything current, I decided to tell him about my home’s embarrassing history of paint colors. We’re talking seriously embarrassing aesthetic quirks. I lived in the house that for years was periwinkle—amid a neighborhood of varying shades of beige. As I neared the point in the history lesson where Dad finally convinced Mom to paint over the hideous shade of—

  “Oh shoot! My mom!” I jumped up and nearly toppled off the rocks in my haste. He jumped up as well, reaching out to grab me, and steadied me so I didn’t plummet to the sand below. My heartbeat was far from steady as I realized I was completely wrapped in his arms, held tightly to his body. Oh. His eyes narrowed in on my lips, and I heard myself sigh. Then I cringed. Ugh. I had to stop doing that. He donned that knowing smirk of his and released me without letting go of my hand.

  “I’m sorry I totally just freaked out, but I realized I never told my Mom and Dad where I was going tonight. Do you have your cell phone with you?”

  “No. It’s charging on my kitchen counter right now.”

  “Shit.”

  “What, you don’t have yours either?”

  “Um … I don’t even have a phone with which to charge.” Truthfully, I’d never really needed to call anyone before. I was either at home with Frankie or out with Jessie.

  He gave me a funny look, “Oh. Okay, so … ?”

  “I guess I should get home. I don’t want them to freak out. I’m sorry.”

  I had been so caught up in the moment and the excitement of going out with Toby, I hadn’t even thought to leave a note. I hoped they weren’t too worried about me and that they had thought to call Jessie to ask where I was. There weren’t a lot of rules and restrictions in my family, and I never wanted to tempt my parents to change that.

  “No apology needed.”

  We made it home just after nine, and there were no lights on in the house. I saw Gollum’s eager little face at the front window, but my parents didn’t seem to be home. I hastily ended our date for nothing.

  And then it occurred to me what a moron I was, and my head fell back against the headrest. I’d made a huge mistake and ended our date for no reason at all. I’m such an idiot. Toby parked the car in his driveway, and I heard him shuffle in his seat, turning to face me.

  “Toby?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Please, tell me it’s not Sunday.” I peeked at him through barely opened eyes, not turning my head to face him, knowing the answer was not what I wanted to hear.

  “It’s not Sunday,” he said with a grin.

  I closed my eyes again, unwilling to accept my defeat. “But it is Sunday, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Why? What happens on Sunday?” I heard him smiling without seeing his face.

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “Sunday is when my mom goes to Bunco at Sharon’s house”—I pointed down the street in the direction of Sharon’s house without opening my eyes—”and my dad goes to wherever dads go when the moms are away. Poker. A bar somewhere. Bowling tournaments. Who knows?” I threw my hands up in annoyance.

  “So you’re saying we didn’t have to rush home?”

  “Yeah,” I said on a sigh. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot.”

  “Okay, well we’re home now. No big deal.” He turned the car back on, just enough to play the music again, and while still facing me, grabbed my hand and held it in both of his. Again, that funny feeling warmed me, and I shook my head at the idea that I’d been missing out on this feeling all these years.

  “So. Where were we … oh yeah, your house. You said it used to be … purple?”

  I opened my eyes and turned in my seat to face him. He remembered right where I’d been in my story, and I was awed he’d been paying such close attention. Okay, Jessie, he’s not so bad. We picked right back up where we left off, as if I hadn’t actually ended the date abruptly. For no reason at all. I planned to never let myself forget that little mishap, but my self-punishing would have to wait. For now, I was going to allow myself to enjoy being with Toby.

  We spent the next few hours sitting in the Mustang, talking, or listening to music silently, not feeling the pressure to fill the empty air between us. I was surprised at how easily I could just sit with him. My awkwardness faded, my guilt was tucked down deep, and I was just … content. I knew my experience with the opposite sex was limited—always pining for Frankie and having nothing more than friendship to show for it—but I had never felt so comfortable with anyone. Except for Frankie.

  But Frankie isn’t an option, I reminded myself for the millionth time. Toby is. And he’s right here.

  Because of the late hour, and my increasing yawns, I eventually—reluctantly—said goodnight to Toby and headed inside the house with the intense feeling of walking on air. I was half-disappointed that he didn’t try to kiss me goodnight, but half-impressed with him for holding back. I was also slightly relieved because kissing Toby with Frankie possibly lurking in the living room would have been terrible. Well, for me at least. Not quite sure if Frankie would even have cared.

  Goodnight kiss or not, there was a dreamy smile plastered to my face when I hit the sack. After throwing on a satin cami and short set, I crawled into bed and hoped my dreams would be as happy as my date with Toby had been.

  They weren’t.

  Around two in the morning, I woke up to Frankie saying my name. I was covered in sweat, and my sheets were tangled around one of my feet at the bottom of the bed. My pillow was hugged up against my body, my knuckles white and rigid from gripping it so tightly.

  “Ever? Ever? Wake up, Doll.”

  I sat straight up, scared and confused, and tried to make sense of the dream. Frankie was in my room again, and the immense relief at seeing him there added more confusion to my half-asleep state of mind. It was like I was scared for him, for his safety. As I began to get my bearings, I realized that, once again, I was unable to remember a single thing about my nightmare. The fear still gripped me, and Frankie’s face was fresh in my mind, but that was all.

  Frankie watched me, his eyes pinched with worry.

  “You can’t remember this one either?”

  I shook my head. No need to tell him I was somehow afraid for him. It didn’t make
sense anyway. He stood over me, concern drawing his eyebrows together.

  I lay back down on my side then scooted my back against the wall, leaving room for another person—or ghost—to lie next to me. I looked up at Frankie and patted the bed beside me, just needing to feel close to him to dispel my silly worries and fears from my nightmare. The startled look on his face made me laugh, and I just patted the bed again and closed my eyes.

  It briefly occurred to me that I’d never be so brave if I was fully awake, but as I questioned my odd, half-awake behavior, I opened my eyes just enough to see Frankie’s translucent figure lying in front of me. My heart felt whole, and it just didn’t matter if I’d be lying with him like that fully awake. He was there now, and nothing else mattered but Frankie’s face so close to mine. He was curled up in a way mimicking my body—legs bent toward me, almost touching mine, and our heads pulled close together, nose to nose.

  I smiled. I was safe with Frankie.

  I fell back to sleep almost instantly, my last thought before sleeping: “I wish I could hold him.”

  “Doll?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I wish I could hold you, too.”

  I was briefly alarmed when I realized I’d voiced my thought, but I was too tired to respond to him or think on it further.

  I was watching TV on the couch, lounging the day away in a gray wife-beater and my fleece pajama pants—black with little gray skulls and pink hearts; the only pink in my entire wardrobe—when the doorbell rang. I quickly peeked out the window, and after not seeing a car anywhere on the street or a delivery truck pulling away, I assumed the visitor was my mom’s friend Sharon or another neighbor dropping by.

  Oh, it was a neighbor all right. Just not any neighbor I was expecting to see.

  Because I’m a complete idiot, I opened the door to Toby.

  Why hadn’t I even considered that it could have been Toby at the door? I quickly glanced around the living room, hoping Frankie heard the knock on the door and wouldn’t choose that moment to walk in.

  My hair was pulled back into one of those messy ponytail-bun-things I may as well have trademarked as my own, and I carried a container of yogurt and granola in my hand. Because this must have been my lucky day, the spoon was still sticking out of my mouth.

  Mortified wouldn’t even begin to describe it.

  “Nice PJ’s.” He smiled as he looked me over, and I felt like dying right then would be a welcomed blessing.

  He was not in pajamas, of course. Probably because it’s noon. That thought made me wonder if he even owned pajamas, and I found myself blushing at the thought of what he might sleep in. Flannel pajama bottoms … boxers … nothing at all … .

  He cleared his throat, and I snapped back into the present, my eyes widening as I realized what a perv I was being.

  “Oh, hey,” I said, smooth as usual.

  “Hey,” he responded with a small laugh. “How ‘bout a second date? Are you free tonight?”

  “Yes! Absolutely!” Oh wow. Real smooth. I took a deep breath and tried for a more muted excitement. “I mean, sure. I’d love to.”

  Much better.

  We made plans to meet out front later that evening.

  Around 5:30 p.m., we finished depositing about a million quarters into a parking meter in one of the many parking lots on the peninsula in Newport Beach. I’d made sure to come prepared for this date, and my purse was weighed down with a couple handfuls of change. Luckily, I’d used up most of it in the meter, so the weight wasn’t an issue. Being the first Monday night of Spring Break for a lot of school districts in the area meant the peninsula was pretty packed, but not as packed as it probably would have been if it was a Friday or Saturday night.

  “You get in trouble last night?” Toby asked, reminding me of my first date snafu.

  “No. My parents didn’t even come home until after I was in bed. I haven’t seen them yet today, but I left them a note this time—just in case.”

  “Cool. I remembered my cell phone this time, too. Just in case.”

  He smiled at me and took my hand, letting me lead the way, and making my heart skip a few beats in the process. We headed to Mutt Lynch’s, a restaurant that faces west and sits right on the boardwalk. I may have let it slip out to the hostess that yesterday was Toby’s very first time seeing the ocean, so she sat us at a tall pub-style table in the front of the restaurant with a view of the beach. She looked at Toby with pity as she handed us our menus, and he just shook his head and smiled. I shrugged, unapologetic for letting the waitress know the true horror of his existence prior to moving here. I couldn’t help it. It was weird that he’d never been to the ocean. I mean, how did he live like that all those years? I couldn’t even ponder the idea without feeling … dried up.

  “I’ll have a Hef,” he said to our server after I’d finished my drink order.

  I looked up from my water, slightly surprised at his choice. So, he’s at least twenty-one. Hmm, I wonder what Dad will say. I tucked that aside to ponder later. He changed his mind almost immediately and settled on an Arnold Palmer instead. Maybe he’d decided against it since I couldn’t drink a beer. Then it occurred to me that maybe he’d changed his mind because he realized he’d forgotten his fake ID. Yeah, that could be it.

  Then it occurred to me I should just ask.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  Oh. Wow. I had guessed twenty or so. Hmm. Five years older than me. Jessie’s going to die when I tell her!

  As we waited for our food, I realized that all I wanted to do was enjoy the intense way he looked at me, and the occasional sideways glances that sent my nerves somersaulting. I was in a perpetual state of speechlessness around him. Luckily for us, he was insanely good at prompting me to speak, and I once again found myself spilling my life story to him.

  Our food arrived, and I was about to dig into my cobb salad when … Oh gross. I’d forgotten to ask for no olives. Ugh. Olives. The little cockroaches of the food chain. As I was pushing them off my salad, annoyed by my apparent brain fart, he was eating them one by one off of my bread plate. As if this wasn’t the first time we’d eaten together and we’d been through the motion a million times. When I paused to watch him, he stopped mid-bite, his eyes opening wide.

  “Oh! Sorry. You weren’t saving those for last were you?” It came out muffled around a mouthful of olives waiting to be chewed.

  I shook my head side to side, amused by the easy comfort between us.

  Throughout the meal, Toby continued his questions, keeping me talking in his usual way, and even when I tried to change the subject and ask him about his life, he appeared so interested in mine that before long, I was rambling on and on again.

  When the bill came, I tried to pay for my half of dinner, not really knowing what he was expecting. He looked at me as if I’d said something hilarious and pushed my debit card aside.

  I happily admitted to myself that this was, in fact, our second “official” date. I let out a little squeal of delight—that could only be heard inside my head—and silently thanked Jessie for pushing me to go out with Toby.

  After dinner, we headed to Balboa and played a few video games in the arcade followed by a few rounds of skee ball because it was the best game ever and one I knew I could win. When we were finally out of quarters, from both video games and the second trip to the parking meter, and we’d used all of Toby’s dollar bills, we decided to ride the Ferris wheel. I offered to pay for that as well, and again he shot down the idea, looking at me like I was crazy.

  “Really?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

  “What? I was just offering.”

  “Put your debit card away, Ever. It is bad enough we used all of your quarters. I think I can cover the expense of a Ferris wheel ride.”

  He paid the attendant, and we silently waited in line. His hand was on my lower back as we waited, and I could feel nothing else. Every cell in my body focused on that one spot as if it was the only place
on my body with any feeling. The Ferris wheel attendant motioned for me to get in first, and then Toby slid in beside me. I was nervous and excited sitting so close to him. But in all honesty, though half of me felt a bit jittery with anticipation and nervousness, the other half of me felt like I’d known Toby forever, not just for a day or two. An odd combination of dueling feelings. I liked it.

  Once we were settled into the rickety old seat, he scooted a bit closer to me so the sides of our legs were touching. My heart rate picked up speed. He rested his left hand on my leg, palm up, and looked at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, both expectant and playful. I looked back and forth from his hand to his face, and placed my hand in his. He wove his fingers through mine, and at the touch of him, the excited feeling shot through me again. I smiled what I’m sure was a too big and too ridiculous, toothy grin, but I couldn’t help it. I swear I could almost feel my skin vibrating. I was amazed that he couldn’t hear my heart thumping away in my chest. It was practically all I could hear.

  We sat quietly as the Ferris wheel slowly began its ascent. Between last night’s date at the beach and all the talking through dinner, I was pretty sure he had learned just about everything there was to know about me. Except my biggest secret, of course.

  The silence was welcomed because I didn’t know if I could talk even if I wanted to with the crazy feelings running through me. I still hadn’t gotten much out of him—or anything at all, really—but I planned to turn the tables and grill him on our next date. The excitement of that thought set my heart pounding even more. A third date. Yes, I want that very badly.

  The sun was gone from the horizon, but I could make out most of the coastline’s twinkling lights, so since we were delayed for the time being as people boarded the ride below us, I took the chance to point out a few landmarks along the coast.

  He took the chance to lean in toward me.

  I was mid-sentence, pointing something out to him, when I froze, realizing what he was doing. I inhaled a quick breath as my heart rate increased once again. Holy shit.