Ever

by Shade, Darrin

  Holy. Crap.

  “Jaren,” I whispered again.

  “You’re playing with fire, Ever,” he warned.

  “I know.” Sweet hot fire coursed through my veins as I observed his energy. In my mind’s eye I could literally see the connection running from his energy to my own. The swirls of color reached for each other, little whorls of light weaving, winding together in a slow, sensual dance.

  “I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” he said, his eyes burning with intensity.

  He had? “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Well, that was good enough for me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The Dreaming Stone

  My mom made soup for dinner, which was perfect because my stomach felt like it was permanently full of butterflies and there was no way I could eat anything heavy. I was lounging in my bed listening to music and replaying my make-out session with Jaren in my head when my mom knocked on my door.

  “Hey, Mom.” I felt myself flush a little, even though there was no way she could know what I was thinking.

  She let out a heavy sigh as she sat down on the edge of my bed. “Ever.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No…not really. Well, actually, there’s something I need to talk to you about, but I guess I’m just not ready.”

  Oh, great. I squirmed, knowing that the inevitable Sex Talk was headed my way. “What’s that?” I asked. Mom held a small item wrapped in a swatch of material.

  “It was your grandmother’s. I was hoping that you wouldn’t need it.”

  “What is it?” I stood up and tossed my iPod onto my bed.

  “It’s a stone, Ever. You sleep with it under your pillow.”

  “Why?” I had never heard of Gram doing anything like that.

  Mom sighed. “I never really understood why. But Gram said that one day I would get the feeling you needed this. I got the feeling today. Well, actually, I started thinking about it when you got sick at school.”

  I held out my hands and she handed me the small object. It felt warm beneath the thin cloth covering. My crystal hummed a bit, like it was pleased. “Okay. Under my pillow. Thanks, Mom.”

  “Everleigh.” I turned back to face her, and she grabbed me up in a hard hug.

  “What is it, Mom?” She was starting to freak me out.

  “I love you.”

  “I um, I love you, too, Mom.”

  * * *

  Everything was black. I couldn’t see but I could hear—and smell. The sickly scent of cotton candy and popcorn wafted to my nostrils and that awful carnival music was on repeat. Beyond it all I could hear that low whine. An image came into focus—that little blond girl sobbing on the carousel, her father gripping her angrily as they went around and around. A sign came into focus and I recognized it—it was for the Spring Carnival—the one that came to town every year.

  Numbers began whizzing by—fours and sevens, and the number eleven on the back of a Covecrest jersey. That was new. Then I was aware of another sound—feet pounding on a track, as someone ran faster and faster, trying to escape something. The sound of crying intensified. I focused on the sound.

  Next, I was standing outside of a white door. There was a tug on my hand. I looked down and was surprised to see the little blond girl from the carousel. She pointed at the door. I put my hand on the knob, only to have it pass right through. I looked at the little girl and shrugged. She reached out and turned the knob. The child pulled at my hand, leading me into the room.

  I was back in the pink-and-white room, the carousel horse sitting garishly in the corner. The crying girl was there, too. She bent over her desk, her pen in her hand. There was another urgent tug on my hand. I made my way to the desk and looked over the crying girl’s shoulder.

  I’m sorry. I have to do this.

  Things started to fade and I knew I was getting pulled back out of the dream. The child tugged, pointing frantically at the crying girl’s bed. A black-and-gold uniform was laid out neatly on the comforter; a pair of running shoes sat on the floor nearby. The number eleven jumped out at me from the back of the jersey. Things began to swirl, but not before I saw something else. It was a brown medicine bottle with a white cap, peeking out from under the bed. I had seen that bottle before.

  I woke up drenched in cold sweat. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking as I reached for my water.

  Holy crap.

  I knew who the crying girl was. More importantly—I knew what she was planning to do on April seventh.

  And I had to stop her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I Know Who the Crying Girl Is…

  One more day of school until our week off—and I think I was the only one who wished we had a few more days of school. Well, me and Jaren. I had texted him on the way to school and he was supposed to meet at lunch.

  “I am like, so stoked,” Val said, slinging her purse onto the stairs.

  “Yeah, me, too!” Dara was Val’s mimic now. She agreed with everything our energy vampire friend said, and when I looked at their energy, there was a thin thread of dark energy smoke connecting them. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  “What are you doing for break?” I asked Naomi.

  “I’m headed to the lake with my parents,” she responded, taking a bite of her apple.

  I smiled. Naomi was taking better care of herself these days. She actually ate her lunch rather than tossing it, and her face looked fuller and more healthy.

  “What about you, Ever?” Val’s tone was a little harsh.

  “I, um—I have no plans. Just chill, I guess.”

  “Yeah, right,” Val said under her breath.

  I could see her energy smoke snaking out toward me but my barriers were up so they bounced away. The attempt to vamp off me rankled me, though. “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Whatever, slut.” Val raised an eyebrow at me. Naomi gasped and Dara snickered.

  “What did you call me?” I stared right back at her, my gaze unwavering, even though I could sense the hatred that was radiating toward me. I hadn’t expected her to do this. Things were going to go down. Right now. Again. Just like junior high—but I could sense that this was going to be much worse.

  “You heard me,” she challenged.

  “Do you have a problem with me, Val?” I couldn’t believe how strong I sounded. I wasn’t used to standing up for myself like this, but I wasn’t going to sit around and let her attack me.

  “Yeah, I think I do!”

  “So spit it out then. I’m sick of walking on eggshells around you.”

  We both stood and faced off.

  “You knew I liked Jaren Wilder and you hooked up with him! The entire school knows about it!” Val screamed.

  Oh, crap.

  “Listen, Val. It’s true that Jaren and I are, well…friends. It just sort of happened. But that doesn’t make me a slut.”

  “You’re always trying to outdo me, Ever, and I’m freaking sick of it!”

  Val was so upset she was turning red. I could see her energy building up to an unholy level.

  “I have never tried to outdo you—what are you talking about?”

  “You know what, Everleigh, why don’t you run off to your boyfriend…and don’t expect me to speak to you after this! You’re out of chances with me!” Val’s voice had gone up so many octaves that she sounded like she was trying to sing falsetto.

  “Calm down, Val.” Naomi’s voice was calm but I could see that her energy smoke was mottled and gray.

  “Screw you, Naomi. You’re just like her. Both of you can go screw yourselves. Find somewhere else to eat lunch.”

  I was here first, I wanted to argue, envisioning my barriers becoming as hard as steel. We now had an audience. A group of kids had gathered to watch Val have her tantrum. Maybe Val expected me to rant or to burst into tears, but I wasn’t going to engage with her—she was totally irrational and she wasn’t worth the potential drain
on my energy. I picked up my stuff. “I feel sorry for you, Val. I wish I could help you,” I said over my shoulder.

  “Screw. YOU,” she hissed, taking a threatening step toward me.

  I turned away, feeling her energy blast rattle my shield. Naomi and I pushed through the crowd of kids. There was a collective groan and a few kids chanted, “Fight, fight!” but we ignored them. The picnic table I had, er, been seen kissing Jaren on, was the only lone table in the amphitheater.

  “Geez,” Naomi whispered. “What just happened?”

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yes! I mean…actually I feel kind of…relieved. Are you okay, Ever?”

  “I’m fine.” In fact, I felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It was weird.

  “Why do I feel like laughing?” Naomi burst into giggles and I did, too.

  Jaren’s voice sounded from behind us. “Everything okay?”

  Naomi dissolved into more giggles and I joined her. I nodded at Jaren as I tried to calm down. The bell rang before I could say anything else. I gave Naomi a quick hug and Jaren walked me to class. I froze outside the door, all of my mirth draining away as I remembered. “Oh, crap.”

  “What is it?” Jaren asked, concerned.

  “I know who the crying girl is,” I said.

  “Who is she?”

  A moment later, Leana breezed into the room, flanked by two other Athletes. It was game day so all three of them were wearing their black-and-gold track uniforms.

  “Number eleven,” I whispered, seeing the number on Leana’s back. That clinched it. Leana Smith was the crying girl. The big question was answered but a bigger one remained.

  What was I supposed to do next?

  * * *

  “I tried to talk to her but I couldn’t.”

  Jaren and I were at Point Park, sitting on one of the stone benches that overlooked the cliff. There was a decorative cement wall bordering the steep drop-off. It went all the way around the park to the lighthouse, but on the other side, near the access road, part of the ground had given away. Yellow tape and caution sides provided a barrier there, but if you looked from where we were sitting, it looked like the street ended in thin air. The city was planning to rebuild the wall over the summer.

  “What were you planning on saying to her?”

  “I don’t know—that was the problem.”

  The truth was, I had no idea what to do now. Leana was planning to do something drastic on April seventh but how could I possibly talk to her about that? I mean, we used to be friends way back when, like in third grade or something, but now…she was a Popular Athlete. There was no way she was going to listen to the insane ramblings of an Outcast. I had the seed and the vague sense that I was supposed to plant it, but I didn’t know where or why. My crystal had been unusually silent lately, but the dreaming stone had given me such a bad nightmare that it more than made up for the smoky quartz’s reticence.

  “Where did your grandmother get that stone?” Jaren wanted to know.

  “I have no idea. She never mentioned it.”

  “I wonder what your mom meant when she said she had the feeling you needed it,” he mused.

  “I guess she felt like I needed to have horrible dreams,” I sighed. “I don’t think I should sleep with it again.” The stone scared me. I had placed it under the loose carpet in my closet, along with The Archive and the seed.

  “No, Ever, I think you need to try again.” He placed his warm hand on mine and gave me a gentle squeeze.

  I sighed again. He was right. I was scared, though. I had no control over the process at all. What if I got stuck in some weird dream state and never came back? “I know there’s more to see but I don’t want to experience that again. It’s scary.”

  “I’m still anchoring you,” he said, his eyes unfocused.

  “Quit that!” I pulled my hand away and gave him a shove.

  “Sorry. It’s just so easy to get in your head.”

  I strengthened my barriers, imagining my shield going harder.

  “Okay, okay. Don’t shut me out.”

  I pouted, looking away. Some of my thoughts needed to be mine alone. Jaren’s hand traveled up my arm and then beneath it. Before I knew it, he was tickling my ribs and I was squealing with laughter. I turned to face him and his lips found mine. I could tell he was holding back but it didn’t matter. Heat flooded my veins and I forgot why I was mad instantly. I kind of forgot where we were and what we were talking about, too.

  He pulled back. “I want to be there. When you dream again.”

  “What? How?”

  “I’ll sneak in. Like last time.”

  Oh, lordy. “And then what? You’ll watch me sleep?” Oh, no way. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep with Jaren Wilder in my room watching me.

  He shrugged. “I need make sure you’re safe.”

  Jaren needed to make sure I was safe? Oh my God, that was so hot. “Okay,” my mouth said while my head argued with it to just shut up already. “When?”

  “We’re running out of time. It has to be tonight.”

  Holy. Crap.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  You’re My Kind of Girl, Ever

  Jaren tapped on my window at 11:47 p.m. Of course. “I get the forty-sevens!” I hissed to whatever might be listening.

  He slipped into my room and grinned. “That was easy.”

  “Yeah, just wait until my mom busts in here and kills us,” I warned, as Bear went to rub against Jaren’s legs.

  He winked. “So, how do you want to do this?”

  “For starters, I’m not tired at all,” I admitted. How could I be tired when Jaren Wilder was standing in my bedroom in the middle of the night? Again. I was never going to get used to this. Never.

  “Yeah, me either. TV?”

  “Um, sure.” I grabbed the remote and when I turned around, Jaren was settling himself in my bed. Under the covers. He patted the small space under his arm. Oh, God. Have mercy.

  “What do you want to watch?” I was stalling and I hoped it wasn’t obvious.

  “I’m not picky.”

  I clicked the TV on and scrolled to my Netflix queue. “Pick, then.”

  “Come lie down first.”

  I stopped breathing for a few seconds. Why did his voice have to be so sexy? I made sure my door was locked and flicked off my bedroom light, leaving only my salt lamp to bathe the room with a dim, orange-pink glow. I handed the remote to Jaren and dropped onto my bed next to him. I could feel the warmth of his body radiating out to encircle me as the scent of sandalwood lured me closer.

  “No way,” he said.

  “Hm?” Being next to him was making me drowsy even though I was wide awake two minutes ago.

  “You have MacGyver, The Complete Series?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  His chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against my cheek. “You’re my kind of girl, Everleigh.”

  * * *

  I looked down at Leana’s shaky hand and saw that she held keys—the school mascot dangled from her keychain. She unlocked the doors of her little Miata and sat in the driver’s seat. Her hand turned the key in the ignition and the next thing I knew, we were at Point Park—in the parking lot. The sun was going down, casting brilliant shades of orange and pink across the horizon. Leana wrapped herself in an old quilt. If she was thinking anything, I couldn’t hear her thoughts. One by one, the other cars drove away, until her little blue convertible was the only one left.

  Through her eyes, I watched Leana fumble in her leather Coach bag. She extracted the medicine bottle. She took a deep breath and then began swallowing the pills.

  One—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight—nine—ten—eleven—twelve…

  I could hear her counting in her head as she methodically placed each bitter-tasting capsule into her mouth and chased it down with a sip of water.

  Stop! I yelled inside her head but she couldn’t hear me. The e
mpty bottle rolled off the seat and onto the floor. I could feel Leana’s stomach roiling and I wondered if she would throw up, but her body started to go numb. She yawned. I could feel her mouth stretch into a sleepy grin as drowsiness began to overtake her. It was dark now, but the moon was rising. Leana jabbed the key at the ignition, getting it in after several tries. The cougar mascot jiggled wildly.

  You can’t drive like this!

  Leana’s car sputtered to life. She backed out of the space and then slammed on the brakes, letting out a noise that started as a sharp laugh and ended with a sob. Things through Leana’s eyes were becoming blurry. Little points of light danced on the periphery of her vision. Her eyelids grew heavier.

  You can’t sleep now. Wake up, Leana!

  If she made it onto the highway, there was a chance that she would hurt someone other than herself. Leana drove to the end of the lot, but instead of heading back onto the street, she turned toward onto the access road.

  Oh, no. No.

  Suddenly, I knew exactly what she was going to do. I tried to take control of her hands to turn the steering wheel but nothing happened. The car continued to its destination and I was powerless to stop it. In desperation, I tried to lift Leana’s foot from the gas pedal but she only pressed it harder. I could feel her teeth grinding in her jaw as the car accelerated.

  Leana’s car zoomed down the access road, flew passed the lighthouse and blew through the orange safety cones and yellow tape that barricaded the damaged wall. She hesitated for a brief second. Then she bore down on the gas and the car rocketed off the precipice. The tires spun, having lost traction. There was a sickening moment of weightlessness.

  “I’m sorry,” Leana whispered as I screamed bloody murder.

  The car fell into the night.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  I Know What Happens on April Seventh

  “No!” I thrashed wildly, anticipating horrible pain and death. “No, Leana!”

  “Ever!”

  A deep wrenching feeling wracked my body as I was sucked out of my dream and catapulted back into my room—to where Jaren was holding me.

  “Oh, God.” I didn’t want to cry in front of him, but I couldn’t help it. Tears poured from my eyes.