Ever (5 page)

I muddled through the next few periods: English Honors, Spanish Honors and Biology. I wrote down copious notes, attempted to look interested to avoid being called on, and fought to make it to the lunch period when I could think about everything.

I fiddled with the pendant around my neck. Touching it felt good. I pressed into the pointed tip, making a small indentation into the skin of my thumb. As my fingers explored the stone, I suddenly noticed it felt warm and somehow…alive? Yes…I could definitely feel some sort of…pulse…like the crystal was awake with a kind of internal energy. When the bell rang, I shot out of my seat and ran into the bathroom near my locker.

I had to fight for a spot in the mirror as the Candy Girls—the ones who wore tight, brightly colored clothing, tons of makeup and perfume, and constantly chewed gum—applied more makeup and gloss to their faces. They jockeyed for a glimpse of their reflections. When I finally settled my eyes on the stone that sat against my chest, I let out an audible gasp. My necklace was on fire! A tiny flame burned in the recesses of the stone. It flickered and danced a slow, sensual twirl as I watched, mesmerized, hoping that the fire didn’t burn my skin.

In response to my surprised gasp and subsequent fixation on my own reflection, I heard one of the Candy Girls say under her breath, “Freakin’ Stoners….why can’t they use another bathroom!”

As the others giggled in response, I quickly stuffed the crystal under the fabric of my black tank. I bolted myself into one of the stalls to catch my breath in private.
What the hell is going on?
Now, I was sure I was going crazy. I worked to retain some level of composure. I would have to ignore my—hallucinations—or whatever they were. Then I would rush home and hide until I figured out what to do next.

I flushed the toilet, pretending I had actually gone to the bathroom instead of huddling in the stall like a frightened mouse. I tried to act cool as I slowly pushed open the door. To my relief, the Candy Girls were gone. Keeping the crystal hidden beneath my shirt, I retrieved my lunch from my locker, trying to ignore the warm heady feeling radiating from the place where the crystal made contact with my skin. I reached the top of the stairs. The others hadn’t arrived yet.

As I watched the collection of students who congregated in the quad, my eyes went a little out of focus—the way they do when you have had no sleep or when you zone out every now and then. Once, someone had told me that if you didn’t do this, you could die. I guess that comment stuck with me because I was always conscious of gazing off. As I looked down with my fuzzy vision, my mind drifted. I imagined that I could hear what the kids were saying below me.

My attention went to one particular group of girls as I listened to these imagined conversations. They were Rich Populars—with their designer jeans, expensive purses and high-heeled shoes. The most popular girl in school, Madison, sat in the center of her clique like a queen holding court, flicking her long blond hair over her shoulder in a practiced gesture. The girls who surrounded Madison mimicked her clothes, her hairstyle, even her gestures and her laugh.

Was it my imagination? Suddenly, I thought I could see thin trails of dark reddish-brown smoke surrounding Madison as she laughed rudely at the expense of one of her friends. The friend laughed as well, a hollow, self-deprecating sound that I thought I heard even though I was far away. I narrowed my eyes and focused a bit more. As Madison belittled one of her “friends,” the thin trail became thicker. It seemed to flow from the girl being teased toward Madison, as though she were suctioning the strange smoke through a hose. I studied the group and could discern other colors of this…this…energy smoke. What was it? What did it do? I felt like I was on the verge of a major epiphany here, when I was interrupted and my vision disappeared.

“Enjoying the view?” I jumped at the sensation of warm breath in my ear.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on people?” I snapped, trying to mask the shock I felt at who stood behind me.

Jaren raised an eyebrow. I suppose no girl had ever talked to him like that, given that he was the most sought-after guy in the entire school. Well, whatever. I was irritated that he had interrupted my bizarre reverie, but also somewhat befuddled by the tingle that went down my spine at his proximity. My cheeks heated up. I waited for his response, fixing my gaze somewhere over his shoulder, struggling to ignore what a big, muscled shoulder it was.

“I’m sorry I interrupted you,” he said smoothly, and then he favored me with a grin before he headed down the stairs.

How did he know he was interrupting something?
I pushed the thought out of my mind with effort. Feigning indifference, I watched him depart from the corner of my eye, taking in the broad shoulders, the hair so blond it was nearly white in the sun. My mouth went dry and I swallowed reflexively, trying to rid myself of the hard lump that had formed in my throat.

I sat down and opened my brown lunch sack. I stared at the contents, knowing I would hardly taste my food. Okay, so Jaren was hot.
Really hot.
I was pretty freaked out by my reaction to the guy. I had never had any sort of reaction to a guy before. I was kind of annoyed that it took me a while to regain my composure.

Get yourself together, Ever.

“OH MY GOD, Everleigh!” Val clunked up the stairs out of nowhere, her black platform sandals nearly catching on the last step as she plopped down next to me. “Did Jaren Wilder just SPEAK TO YOU?”

“Er, well, not really,” I stammered. The last thing I needed was to break the unwritten social code that barred me from interacting with “her” man.

“What do you mean not really? What did he say?” A large, toothy grin was cemented across Val’s face. She reminded me of an alligator read to snap up its unsuspecting prey.

“Oh, nothing really, he um, he just…asked me what time it was.” I told the boldfaced lie without a flinch. Master manipulator. Usually.

“Well? What did you tell him?” she demanded.

“Uh, I told him it was twelve-ten.” I was starting to find her reaction kind of ridiculous. After all, she didn’t even know the guy.

“Oh my God! You are soooo lucky! He is
so
freaking hot! God, I would kill to talk to him!” Val’s hands were shaking as she rifled through her trademark black satchel.

Dara and Naomi arrived, wearing almost identical clothing: ripped skinny jeans, studded belts and punk tee shirts that they had cut the necks out of so that the colored straps of their bras peeked through. Dara’s bra was turquoise and Naomi’s was magenta.
Cute.

I had nothing to fill out a bra, but I wore a stretchy, seamless one anyway. Naomi was the most endowed among us. She had developed super early, achieving the coveted double-D status by the end of the summer before seventh grade. That was the summer when it seemed like everyone else changed…they grew taller, developed, started wearing makeup… I sighed, wondering when I would be graced with some indication of physical maturity.

“Oh my
God,
you guys! You will never believe what just happened!” Val always had to be the first one to tell the others about anything significant. “Jaren Wilder just asked Everleigh what time it was!”

They both turned to gawk at me.

“I told him it was twelve-ten.”

Geez, what would they do if they knew he had picked up my pencil? Combust? As the other girls chattered on about Jaren and the ramifications of me telling him the time, I contemplated the smoky ribbons of color that I had observed moments before. It was almost as though I was seeing a kind of energy…a psychic energy? Absently, my fingers went to the pendant tucked behind the thin cotton of my shirt. It now felt cool and smooth to my fingers. The stone had something to do with this—I just wasn’t sure what.

I tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Val start talking about Kamryn Davis’s party. Kamryn was Rich—I mean Rich was a major understatement. I guess to say she lived in a house was also an understatement—the place was a palace. We drove by it once, out of morbid curiosity, only to be thwarted by the large iron gates that surrounded the place like a fortress battlement. Kamryn’s dad owned a couple of Hollywood clubs and made ridiculous amounts of cash. Val paid careful attention to Kamryn’s wardrobe and informed us she never wore the same designer outfit twice.

Kamryn herself was a little nuts. I guess you would have to be if you grew up in a house that resembled the Taj Mahal with your cook and your nanny, while your parents traveled the world without you. Kamryn had a new, older boyfriend every few weeks. The latest guy was a twenty-three-year-old Covecrest dropout named Jimmy. He had been suspended once for getting drunk at winter formal, and then he was kicked out of school altogether for flipping off Coach Cutter.

The elusive Kamryn never seemed to attend class, yet somehow she managed to skate by. The gossip about her ranged from “she has implants,” to “she slept with the history teacher,” to “she’s on Prozac.” Her status as The Richest Girl in School was enough to override the crazy things she supposedly did and allowed her to be Neutral; that is, she could simultaneously participate in any social clique she desired. She tended to spend most of her time with the Candy Girls, who hoped to one day attend a red carpet event as Kamryn’s guest, or the Druggies, who hoped to one day partake in some of her meds. Val had overheard two Candy Girls whispering during chemistry class about the huge rager Kamryn was having Friday night.

There had been a time—a time that I could hardly recall—when we had all been friends. Kam, me, and a few of the Candy Girls had all been in Girl Scouts and gymnastics class together. Val was there, too. Somehow, as we got older, everything had changed. It had been clear, when we started junior high, that some us weren’t friends anymore. I was one of those poor, unfortunate, awkward souls who just didn’t fit in. So, I had become a Loner and then an Outcast. It hurt at first, but now I was used to being a social pariah. I wasn’t Rich, and I wasn’t weird enough to qualify for Goth status, so Everleigh the Outcast it was.

“Do you think my man will be at the party?” Val tossed her long mane. I often envied her hair, so smooth and sleek, so easy to maintain, unlike my unruly waves.

“He totally will!” Naomi exclaimed.

“Are we planning to crash this party or something?” I pictured us having the door slammed in our faces. I hadn’t exactly been to any big parties like this one.

“Oh come
on
, Everleigh.” Val spoke to me as though I was the village idiot sometimes. “I mean, it’s not like you get a written invitation to a freaking
rager!
” She barked out a laugh and I felt something barely perceptible inside me shrink.

Dara made eye contact with Val and snickered. With a start, I realized that this interaction mimicked the one I had observed with Madison and her cohort. I looked down and slightly to the side, letting my eyes go out of focus in time to see a ribbon of reddish, misty color swirl toward Val’s head. Stunned, I watched her eyes brighten as the swirls sank into her. I stood up suddenly, causing them to stop talking and look at me. The flow of energy smoke ceased abruptly.

“Just going to toss this trash away, guys.” I picked up my lunch sack and turned my back on them. I was sure I had surprise and confusion written all over my face. Something was happening…I just didn’t know what.

CHAPTER SIX

Life of the Party…Not!

D
espite my growing unease, I hopped into Val’s car after school on Friday and we headed to the mall. She marched a direct path into a trendy store called Style Maiden, and made a beeline for the section displaying tight, low-cut dresses. I sighed. Those dresses would make me look like a skeletal freak. As they bantered over which dress was the cutest, I found myself standing in front of a mannequin wearing black skinny jeans and a loose sheer tee shirt. Beneath the tee shirt, the mannequin sported a cute colored bra—the kind that I couldn’t fill out. I figured I could toss a colored tank underneath instead.

I grabbed the smallest sizes I could find and joined the other girls in the dressing room. I tried on my outfit like I always did—as quickly as possible. I took a swift glance in the mirror to double check that the pants weren’t too long. They were probably supposed to be capris on a normal-sized girl because they fit me just right. Hastily, I changed back into my clothes before the others asked to see my outfit.

I perched on a little chair and waited for Val to come out of her dressing room. She was wearing a skintight halter dress that left pretty much nothing to the imagination. Dara and Naomi had picked out dresses in a similar style.

“Oh my God, Val, that is sooo cute!” Naomi gushed.

I nodded in agreement. It was true. The dress did look amazing on Val. She could probably buy beer at the mini-mart wearing a getup like that.

“Are you getting something, Everleigh?” Naomi inspected what I had wrapped under my arm.

“Just a new pair of skinnies and a tee shirt,” I mumbled.

“Why don’t you get a dress, too? You know, so we all match?” Val looked at me with a touch of disdain. I knew my taste in clothes would be seriously questioned the second she dropped me off later that afternoon.