by K. G. Reuss
“Ever, about everything—”
“I know. You’re sorry.” I gave him a watery smile.
“Yeah,” he breathed out, reaching forward and taking my hand in his. “I mean, it’s been really hard on me.”
“I can only imagine the torment you’re going through,” I chuckled bitterly. Whatever he was going through was nothing compared to what I was.
He must have taken my words seriously because he answered quickly, “It’s been bad. I felt so guilty. I’ve been worried about you. Are you OK? You seem, I don’t know, off. And you look terrible. No offense.”
“I’m not OK, Dylan,” I whispered, watching his eyes widen as he stared back at me. “I’m never going to be OK. You see, I’m crazy. I see dead people. Or at least I think they’re dead. I see creatures that are so terrifying that you couldn’t even imagine them in your worst nightmares. I hear voices. So, I can only imagine what you’re going through when compared to me.”
“You hear voices and see things that aren’t there? Are you seeing a doctor about it? Is that what happened to you today?” There was that sympathetic fearful look again. Oh, and there was the “damn, she really is crazy” look.
“Yeah, I’m medicated for it,” I answered bitterly, looking away from him. A moment later his fingers brushed against my cheek causing me to turn back to him.
“I’m still here for you. You know that, right?”
“You’re also there for Casey too,” I replied softly, our eyes meeting.
“It’s not like that with her. We’re just…I don’t know. We’re messing around. Having fun, you know? Just waiting for you to come back.”
“That’s how you wait for someone?” I mused, snorting a little but not looking away from him.
“What do you want me to do, Ever? You made it clear you didn’t want me! I’m just doing whatever. Like I said, I’m still here for you. It’s hard seeing you like this, though. You’re not the same girl I knew—”
“That girl pretty much died on the pavement months ago,” I snapped at him. “You were there, remember?”
He flinched like I’d struck him. I shook my head and looked down at my hands in my lap.
“I’m sorry. I’m on edge. I don’t mean to snap,” I whispered. A moment later Dylan’s arms were around me, hugging me.
“I know,” he murmured. “I don’t understand what’s happening to you. I blame myself for it all, though.”
“I don’t think it’s all your fault,” I sniffled as I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. How I missed what once held so much pleasure for me. Everything had changed. I hated it. Our problems seemed so insignificant now.
“Regardless,” he replied, pulling away from me, raking his eyes over my face, cupping my cheek tenderly with his hand, “I miss you. I didn’t know how much until you were gone… And now I’m afraid you aren’t going to come back.”
“I’m afraid you’re right. That girl really is gone,” I murmured as he leaned in, his mouth close to mine.
“She’s still in there. I know she is.” His lips brushed against mine, and for a moment, I lost myself in him—the guy I’d once felt so much for. He kissed me gently at first before he pressed his mouth firmer on mine. And I kissed him back with wild abandon.
“Why’d you stop?” he breathed out with hooded eyes when I pulled away.
“It’s…I just can’t,” I shook my head sadly. “You and Brit. You and Casey—”
“Ever, I messed up! Come on. I told you how sorry I was about Brit. And Casey doesn’t mean anything to me. I know you can feel what I feel when you kiss me. Just let go and make yourself happy for once.”
“Is that what you tell them?” my voice was barely audible as I looked at him, my heart aching.
“What?” He crinkled his brows, confused.
“When you kiss them… did you tell them the same thing about me? That I didn’t mean anything?”
“Ever, no. No!” He shook his head, a frown on his lips. “I never said that about you. I-I don’t know. I just screwed up. I always wanted to be with you in ways you didn’t want me. I made some mistakes that I wish I could change. If I’d have been a better boyfriend, you wouldn’t be suffering right now.” His fingers gripped mine in a desperate attempt to hold on. “That night with the accident wouldn’t have happened. We’d still be together and planning on what to wear for homecoming and prom. I’d be pulling you into an empty classroom and kissing you right now and telling you how beautiful I think you are. These other girls just don’t hold a candle to you. No one compares. I want you back, Ever. So bad.” He finished with a deep breath, his eyes sad as he stared at me.
“I-I can’t. I need some time.”
“I’ll give it to you,” he answered quickly, his eyes wide and pleading. “Please, just consider us again.”
“And Casey?”
“Gone if you want me,” his voice determined and resolute.
“I-I don’t know.” I hugged myself, my bottom lip pulled between my teeth as I tried to sort through all the weird emotions going through me. I wanted him. God help me, I did. But it wasn’t right. Not then. Maybe not ever. What could me, a broken girl, even offer him now? What could he, a liar and a cheater, offer me now? If anything, our relationship would just be even more messed up.
“Think about it, Ever. I don’t need an answer today. Just get yourself straightened out. I’ll be here.”
“OK,” I whispered, swallowing hard. He gave me another gentle kiss, which I accepted despite knowing better, before I got out and walked into my house. I wanted what he offered. I wanted it so much that my heart ached for it. I had way too many confusing thoughts in my head and not enough energy to sort through them. I wanted to be normal again.
All I knew was that I had to find a way to numb all my pain. Just like my dad used to do.
Chapter Seventeen
I’d never felt so alone in my life. Everyone was here for me. They seemed to care about me and wanted to help me get better. But they couldn’t.
I didn’t suffer from a sickness that could be healed. Deep in my heart, I knew that, and it made the pain that much worse. The only person that might be able to understand was my father. I’d seen the picture. I’d lived through his torment. I became part of his nightmare. The one person that I feared, may be the one person that could offer me the answers I so desperately needed.
The realization that my father may have struggled with the same issues made me mad. But if it was true, then I understood his anger, perhaps not how he directed it, but I understood it. When I went into the house after Dylan dropped me off, I picked up Mom’s address book and looked up my dad’s number. I didn’t even know if she had it. I was surprised to find it scribbled in the back.
I hadn’t spoken to him in years. I wondered if maybe she had, although it seemed unlikely considering how things went the last time they were near each other. I shook that idea out of my head. My mom hated him and for good reason, but what if. . .
Taking a deep breath, I dialed his number and listened as it rang, my heart racing. What was I going to say to him if he answered?
Finally, after the eighth ring, I was going to hang it up, but his deep voice came across the line, “Elena?”
I stood there with the phone in my hand, unable to speak. I hadn’t heard his voice in so long. It brought tears to my eyes, reminding me of when he used to hold me and read me bedtime stories.
“Elena, is that you?”
“N-no. It’s me. Ever,” I breathed out, my voice shaking as I held the phone in my trembling hand.
“Everly? Is your mom OK? Is there something wrong?” It seemed odd that he’d ask that considering he used to smack us around all the time. Our well-being hadn’t seemed to matter back then.
“S-she’s fine, Dad. I-I’m the one who’s sick,” I answered softly, a knot forming in my stomach.
“They’ve come, haven’t they?” his voice sounded just as shaky as mine. “I heard about the acc
ident.”
“I think they’ve always been there,” I whispered in a choked voice. “I-I need to talk to you.”
“Does your mother know you’ve called?” his voice became stronger, and I imagined him straightening to his impressive height as he waited for my answer.
“No, but I can’t tell her this. She’s already stressed out. I-I just need to ask you a question, then I promise to leave you alone.” I bit my bottom lip waiting for him to respond.
“Are you home?”
“Yeah.”
“Meet me at Lucinda’s Diner on the edge of town off Old Ten. Do you remember it?”
Of course, I remembered it. He used to take me there for their super breakfast special. I’d order the chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream.
“Yes. I’ll leave now.”
“Ever, be careful and try to come alone,” he said softly before the line went dead, making me wonder if he meant alone in the same way I did.
Chapter Eighteen
I pulled up to Lucinda’s Diner and looked around. It hadn’t changed much over the years, unless you counted that they’d replaced the blown-out lights in half the neon sign so now it read Lucinda’s Diner and not da’s Diner. The grass was mowed down to nearly the dirt, and the parking lot was still cracked with tiny weeds cropping up through the jagged cuts in the faded pavement. I turned off my car and went inside, not knowing if I’d even recognize my dad. It had been years since we’d seen each other.
“Can I help you, hon?” a middle-aged waitress with graying hair and a kind smile greeted me as I walked to the faded yellow counter, the smell of deep fried food greeting me.
“Um, I’m just waiting for my dad.”
“You want a booth?”
“Yeah,” I nodded and followed her to a booth near the back. I ordered a soda and sat there fidgeting as I waited for him.
Five minutes into the wait, the bell over the door jingled causing my head to snap in the direction of the new arrival. My heart was in my throat thinking this was it. This was the moment I’d be face-to-face with my abusive father. Again.
My lips parted and a strange buzzing started inside as I watched a tall, blond guy, about my age with piercing blue eyes, walk into the diner and sit down at the counter. His long black trench coat nearly reached his ankles. His all black attire made his white-blond hair stick out in stark contrast. He was breathtaking to look at it, and my heart stuttered in my chest when he turned and locked eyes on me from over his shoulder. His eyes swept me up and down lazily, before he turned away without so much as a change in his expression and drummed his fingers lazily on the counter.
I cleared my throat and took a sip of my soda, my heart still racing. He seemed out of place as he sat on the worn yellow stool. The waitress brought him a slice of pumpkin pie complete with a fluffy cloud of whipped cream on top. He dug into it calmly, his fingers poking out of his fingerless gloves holding the fork like a weapon. He struck me as someone who knew how to use that fork, and not just as an eating utensil. He seemed dangerous. And scary. How someone could look so cool and intimidating eating a slice of pumpkin pie was beyond me.
I’d been so caught up watching the guy at the counter that I failed to notice my father walk in and approach my table looking bedraggled. His shaggy dark hair was graying and his face was gaunt, but he looked infinitely better than the last time I saw him. Of course, back then he was being led away in handcuffs by the police, with his face bloodied from Mom clocking him with a decorative vase my grandma had given her for her birthday after he’d hit her repeatedly. That was the last time I’d seen him.
His dark eyes fixed on me as he walked forward. His large frame was still as intimidating as I remembered. Just looking at his hulking form made me shake, as old memories flooded my thoughts—memories that I didn’t want to think about, memories I’d kept locked away in the dark recesses of my mind.
It had been rough living with him as a kid. He seemed to have changed overnight. One day he was my daddy—tickling me and calling me princess—and the next, he was choking my mother and dragging me by my hair to throw me into a dark closet, while yelling maniacally for them to just take me. I never knew who they were, but I was beginning to piece it together.
“Everly?” He used my full first name in his deep voice He looked me over quickly as I got to my feet. My body shook as I looked up at him through my thick lashes.
“H-hi, Dad,” I answered softly, my tongue heavy in my mouth. A small smile touched his lips. He made to reach for me, but I flinched, those old memories a reminder of what could happen if he got a hold of me. He pulled back instead and gestured for us to sit.
I sat nervously across from him, and we stared at one another for a moment before he cleared his throat and spoke, “You’ve grown quite a lot. Seventeen, now, huh?”
“Growing up happens. An inevitability to those of us blessed enough to experience it,” I mumbled, averting my eyes from his face as I fidgeted in my seat. I focused my attention over my dad’s shoulder at the guy at the counter. He rose from his seat and moved to sit in the booth in front of where we were. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to listen in to our conversation.
“Indeed,” he nodded at me, his eyes sweeping over my face quickly and halting on the silver infinity around my neck. “You look like your mom. You’re quite beautiful, Ever. It’s been, what? Four years?”
“Five, but I-I’m not here for a reunion.” I cleared my throat, pulling myself together. I caught a glimpse of one of the dead lurking outside on the sidewalk, peering in at us—jagged cuts on its body, clothes tattered and bloodstained. I shuddered and closed my eyes as I drew in a deep breath trying to calm myself. When I opened my eyes, mysterious counter guy glanced over his shoulder at me with a frown on his face. He quickly turned away and looked out the window to where the dead man stood. I swallowed hard wondering if maybe he could see him too. I laughed inwardly. Of course, he couldn’t. I was being ridiculous. A side effect of my poor mental health. I looked back out the window, cringing as I saw the dead guy cock his head at me. His mouth broke into a crooked smile, and bugs skittered out from behind his blackened teeth.
“I didn’t think you were here for a reunion,” my dad answered, following my gaze outside and letting out a sigh. “So, I suppose we should just get to the point.”
I nodded wordlessly as I tore my eyes away from the man outside.
“First, I’m sorry, Everly. For your awful childhood. That’s on me. I can’t change it, though. It is what it is, and that’s all it will ever be. Is that what you wanted? An apology from me?”
“No,” I shook my head at him, wishing the guy sitting at the booth would go away. He’d stilled in his seat with his head inclined to us. I drew in another deep breath. I had to get my crap together. I was being paranoid. “I didn’t ask you here for that.”
“No?” he raised an eyebrow at me. “Then what is it? I already know about the accident. Your grandma called and told me. I wanted to see you then, but I knew I couldn’t.”
“It-it’s not about that. Not really. I’m here about this,” I placed the photograph of him and me onto the table and looked at him, swallowing hard. He stared down at it, no emotion on his face. After a few moments of silence his eyes found mine.
“I need answers, Dad.”
His eyes went to my fingers fiddling with my necklace. “You’ve always worn that necklace, haven’t you?”
What the hell did that have to do with anything?
“Yeah, I don’t remember when I got it. I think Mom told me when I was a little girl that Grandma, your mom, gave it to me. Kind of a symbol to remind me that love was infinite.”
He chuckled darkly, “Yeah, love is infinite and so are other things…like death. Unfortunately, you’re learning more about those things now that you’re getting older. And life…”
His eyes searched my face, looking for something. I had no idea what, but I’d be patient while he figured it out. He had an
swers that I needed. “Do you know how you got your name, Everly?”
I cocked my head as I thought back through my memories. I hadn’t ever heard anyone mention it before. “No. I always assumed Mom found it in a baby book or something.”
“My mother picked that name out for you. I know you were little when she died. But she loved you so much. Your grandmother was different…special. She knew things she shouldn’t know. Saw things others couldn’t.”
A chill went down my spine. “What do you mean, Dad?”
He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was close by. Leaning forward, he pitched his voice low and said, “She was psychic. Not about everything, but about key, instrumental things. She knew your mom was pregnant with you before we even knew. She told us your name was to be Everly and that you’d be special. More gifted than anyone in our family has ever been before. The Torres family is cursed… or blessed, depending on how you look at it, with supernatural gifts.”
“Gifts?” I scoffed. What I had experienced so far couldn’t be considered a gift. If it was, I needed to return it.
“That’s what your grandmother called it when she explained it to me when I was a kid. I saw them too. Not many before you were born, just random ones here and there. But I remember Mom telling me that they just wanted to be heard. They had things to tell us.”
“Who?”
He looked at me with knowing eyes. “You know who, Ever. The dead.”
“What do they have to tell us?”
“When I was a kid, they told me nothing. I actually convinced myself when I became an adult that they weren’t real. Just a product of my mother’s imagination. They weren’t around anymore. Then after Mom told us that you were on the way and that you’d change everything, they started appearing again. I think the dead told Mom that you were coming.”