Never (The Ever Series Book 2) (13 page)

I try to imagine seeing Ever as normal, ordinary, but I can’t do it. As we pass by a green and yellow abstract monument, I try without luck to determine what the different colored shapes are supposed to be. When we turn the corner, Ever stops, and I look up the stairs at the red brick building with white-framed glass doors. Above the middle door, etched into white marble, it reads
Art Museum
.

We walk inside and hand over the tickets Mr. Gideon gave us before entering an expansive white-painted room with glossy concrete floors. There are four or five sculptures. One of them is a rider on a bronze horse—or maybe it’s a camel. Another sculpture is too abstract for me to guess what it’s supposed to be. Ever said that I saw him differently, but my extrasensory perception doesn’t seem to help in deciphering art. I figure I’m kind of lucky in this way—that I don’t necessarily have to
get it
to appreciate something. There are some things I don’t want to have to qualify or evaluate; I just want to enjoy them.

I begin walking, and Ever follows me silently. I pause to look at some Native American artifacts. In the brochure the woman gave us at the ticket counter, it says there are at least four thousand Asian artifacts from Japan, China, and Korea as well. There are also European exhibits, modern art, and photography. I know I’ll reach burnout if I try to see everything, so I walk aimlessly and just try to enjoy it.

Visiting the massive Getty Museum in L.A. as a kid, I remember liking the European masters—the really dark, dramatic paintings. But during a slideshow Mr. Gideon did, I also liked the Impressionist painters, too. I was struck by Monet’s
Impression, soleil levant
. Sun rising. The image of the orange globe casting its reflection on the water was beautiful, but I felt sad as I stared at it. It seemed less hopeful than I would have thought for a sunrise.

We’ve been walking around for more than three hours with Ever patiently waiting while I scan the descriptions of the various pieces when I suddenly stop and look down at my feet, which are killing me. I hadn’t even noticed until just now. With a sigh, I’m ready to give up and come back another day when Ever puts his arm around my shoulder.

“There’s one last exhibit I want you to see,” he says, guiding me through the bright red rooms of the museum’s European galleries.

When we reach a small room at the very back, there’s a single painting in a gilded frame sitting against a backdrop of royal-purple drapery. The room is dim, apart from warm lights illuminating the piece—a richly detailed oil painting of a pink-cheeked young woman dressed in an ornate blue and gold gown. As I walk closer to the painting, the image begins to look increasingly familiar, even though I’m sure I’ve never seen it before.

I smile at the museum guard who is standing next to the painting and then lean in and read the placard. The painter, Tiziano Vecellio, or Titian in English, painted
La Bella
, or
Woman in a Blue Dress
, in 1536. Suddenly I know why it looks familiar. The style reminds me of the portrait Ever painted. Of me. Going over to the bench, I sit down and continue to stare at the painting. When he joins me, I look over at him.

“Did you … ?” I whisper, trailing off.

“Did I paint this?” He laughs softly. “No. However, I did learn quite a bit about painting during the Renaissance.”

“I can see that.”

“Then I hope that Colton was right about imitation being the sincerest form of flattery.”

I frown, but don’t bother asking. Given Ever’s infinite existence, Colton could be anyone from any time period.

“Well, I would hardly call it imitation. His painting was of an unidentified woman in Renaissance Italy. Yours is of a mind-reading girl from Portland, Oregon. And I think it’s very different, in a good way.”

He smiles as I turn back toward the painting, and I sit quietly for another minute before rising.

“Dinner?” he asks.

I nod as I realize it’s been several hours since lunch. I’m starving.

“Nothing fancy, though.”

We walk back through the museum. When we reach the street, it’s clear, but getting cooler. I shiver, and Ever takes my hand, taking the edge off the chill in the air. We walk through the urban park near the museum as the sun sets behind the trees. Passing a concert hall, we continue through city streets, and I stop when I see a bunch of … food carts. Looking over at Ever, I smile.

“This is perfect.”

“It is?”

I smirk.

“You know, for never eating, you sure are a food snob.”

I can’t help it. I just feel better grabbing something to eat outside rather than sitting down at a fancy restaurant and watching Ever
not
eat. I order a gyro from a Mediterranean-style food cart, and a few minutes later I dig in happily.

“I hope you won’t mind if I plan something more elaborate for your birthday,” Ever says with a wry smile.

“You’re the one who gets to watch me eat.”

After I’ve finished my sandwich, we start walking back in the direction of the parking structure. During the drive home, I start thinking about my birthday. Seventeen. Not exactly ancient, but my mom always says that time begins to move faster the older you get.

It’s nearly dark by the time we get to my house. As soon as we’re inside, I escape upstairs to brush my teeth and rinse—twice—with mouthwash to eradicate any trace of garlicky hummus. This only takes me a minute, but by the time I get back to the living room, Ever is nowhere in sight. My heart leaps—out of some deep, dark fear that something has happened. Or, worse, that he’s just disappeared … like he did right after we kissed for the first time.

“Would you dance with me?”

I spin around and find him behind me holding a single white rose. I’m relieved, but I still wasn’t expecting
this
.

“Now?
Here
?”

He nods and takes my hand. When he brings me in closer, I swallow.

“Close your eyes,” he says softly.

I smile, feeling butterflies swirling in my stomach.

“Why?”

He leans down, his lips grazing my ear.

“Always arguing. Let’s just say I want to try something.”

I shiver as he grasps my waist. Closing my eyes, I feel a brief sense of floating. When he tells me to open my eyes, I look around and yelp before I can stop myself. We’re not in my living room anymore. Not even close. We’re outside, standing on an expansive deck overlooking the valley floor. Above us, the evening sky is turning quickly from azure to navy, and the scattering of puffy clouds and millions of stars make it look like a painting. Ever is still holding me close, so even as the air grows colder, I don’t feel chilled.

“Are you okay? Do you feel sick?” he asks.

I check my head for dizziness, and then my stomach for the usual nausea. I shake my head.

“I feel fine, but every other time …”

“Practice makes perfect,” he smiles.

Ever picks me up and swings me around slowly, and I smile.

“If my feet never touch the floor, I guess it eliminates the possibility of me stepping on your toes.”

Looking up at his features illuminated by starlight, I let go of everything else. I’m going to enjoy this moment as though I’m never going to have one like it again.

M
y feeling that everything is right in the world is an impenetrable bubble—with the exception of a tiny voice in my head that keeps telling me it’s all balancing on the head of a pin. Tomorrow night is girls’ night. The week after is the dance. Life feels normal, in a good way … with the exception of French class, which I used to enjoy.

Walking into Mrs. Gilbert’s classroom, I see Alex is already there with the same expression on his face. I’m beginning to think this has become his permanent state of being—petulant. I sit down next to him, almost hoping he’ll make some sarcastic remark just to dispel the tension of unrelenting silence. He doesn’t, though, and I’m left in the uncomfortable position of watching Stephanie, the girl behind him, gaze with unreserved adoration at the back of his head. I want to scream that he’s a remorseless immortal willing to sell her soul—or anyone else’s—in a heartbeat, but I don’t. Instead, I try to pretend he isn’t there.

After school, when Ever drives me home, I see my mom’s car in the driveway, which means she hasn’t left for work yet. Walking inside, I call up the stairs to her, even though I can hear the blow dryer going full blast. Dropping my stuff next to the couch, I continue into the kitchen and grab an apple and some yogurt for a snack. When I—jokingly—offer some to Ever, he just smiles before turning to look toward the living room. I stop when I hear my mom singing, and then cringe as she walks into the kitchen. She has no idea we’re here.

“
Ahh
!” she shrieks.

“Those curlers look really good, Mom,” I laugh.

Mortified, my mom turns to Ever, and then back to me.

“Wren Sullivan! You have to tell me when there’s someone in the house!”

Ever smiles innocently.

“I’ve already forgotten about it.”

My mom takes a glass from the cupboard and pours herself some water before hurrying out of the kitchen.

“That’s what I love about your boyfriend, Wren,” she calls over her shoulder. “His tact.”

I turn to Ever and smile.

“I thought mothers were supposed to hate their daughters’ boyfriends.”

“She wants you to be happy.”

Going over to the sink, I rinse my dishes and then look back at Ever.

“So? What are you and Chasen going to do while we have girls’ night? Bowling maybe? Poker night with the guys? Facials?”

The thought of Ever wearing a clay mask or bowling shoes makes me giggle. Poker on the other hand. Well, Josh, Marcus, and Zach would lose a lot of money—or at least their pride—if they played with Ever. When we get upstairs to my room, I leave the door wide open in a clear message to my mom that nothing is going on. I arrange myself on the bed, and Ever sits in the chair at my desk. When my mom comes in a few minutes later, her hair is done, and her makeup is fully applied.

“All right. I’m off to work. I’ll call to check in. Ever, do your girlfriend’s mother a favor—don’t stay past nine.”

Ever nods, and my face flushes as my mom kisses me on the forehead.

“Wait! Mom! Remember, I’m staying over with Audra tomorrow night. I’ll leave her number, just in case, and I’ll have my cell.”

My mom’s eyes narrow briefly.

“And what will you be doing tomorrow night, Ever?” she asks wryly, like she thinks this is all an elaborate ploy of ours to sneak off for a night.

“Wren suggested bowling or facials,” he says with a straight face.

“Fair enough,” my mom laughs before leaving.

“Oh, now that wasn’t awkward at all,” I mutter.

I listen as she walks downstairs and opens the hall closet. At the sound of the doorbell, my heart thumps. I look at Ever, and panic grips me when I register the blank expression on his face. I’m about to jump up and run down the hall when he shakes his head.

“Is she okay?” I hiss.

He nods warily, and a second later I nearly jump out of my skin when my mom calls up the stairs. Leaping off the bed, I hurry to the landing, ready for trouble. In the darkest corner of my mind, I keep seeing her being sucked into the blackness of the mirror just before I can reach her. Instead, she’s at the bottom of the steps, looking up at me. I sigh.

“What’s up, Mom?”

“I’m waiting for you in the park.” I stiffen when I realize that her eyes are unfocused, like she doesn’t even see me. “Come alone.”

“Mom?” I ask, trying not to let my voice shake.

Her eyes suddenly refocus, and she smiles up at me.

“See you tomorrow, honey! Love you!”

She walks out the front door, and I turn and see Ever standing just behind me.

“You saw that?” I demand. “What the hell did he do to my mom?!”

“She’s fine,” Ever says tonelessly. “He used her as a conduit.”

I’m already flying down the stairs. At the closet, I jam my feet into my running shoes, not bothering to get a jacket. As I turn, about to launch myself out the front door, I find Ever is standing in front of it. I look up at him, my face set in grim determination.

“Get out of my way.”

“Wren, he’s trying to provoke a reaction.”

“Well, mission accomplished! I’m ending this. Now
move
.”

After a second, Ever steps out of my way, and I wrench open the door. As soon as I hit the front porch, I’m running. With each step, the hate flows through me with such force that I think it’s possible to destroy Alex with my fury. It’s misting out, but not enough to drench me. I turn at the path, unafraid of the dark. I feel powerful—invincible—in my hatred. It doesn’t matter that my lungs feel like they’re being incinerated. I push myself through the darkness until I see the single streetlamp. Reaching the edge of the playground, I rock to a stop at the sight of Alex sitting at the bench. Slowing my breathing, I walk forward until I’ve reached him.

“We had a deal,” I hiss. “You weren’t going to touch my mom or my friends.”

“Have you ever wished for something you could never have?” he asks with such genuine curiosity that for an instant I forget how much I hate him.

I nod.

“Then I think we understand each other better than you might imagine,” he says quietly. “And I release you from our deal. You are free …”

I gawk at him, unsure of what to say. He starts speaking again before I have a chance to turn away.

“However, you’ll have to forgive me if I choose to remain here, as it has been a long time since I’ve felt so human. I hope you would not begrudge me this small allowance. I will not bother you again, unless you wish for my company.”

I almost snort at this, but I manage to restrain myself. Then, feeling a sudden coolness at the back of my neck, I reach up and touch the spot where the copper sun had been.

***

“Wren? Are you absolutely sure you know where you’re going?” Ashley asks nervously.

It’s late Saturday afternoon, and I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Ashley’s car on the way to Ever’s house.

“It’s not that far. Trust me,” I promise her.

I smile, but for some reason it feels like I’m leading my friends into the lion’s den rather than to my boyfriend’s house.

“Slow down! Take a left
there
!” I point, almost missing the slight break in the trees myself.

“Where?!” Ashley cries in dismay.

We pass the turn, and Ashley has to drive another half mile before we find a decent spot to turn around.

“How many times have you been to his place?” Lindsay asks, leaning into the front seat.

“A couple.”

“So? Have you been in his—”

“
There
! On the right!” I point.

Ashley slams on the brakes, and I point again.

“Are you sure?” she asks again.

I nod, and she slowly lets up on the brake, veering off the road and into the trees. I look down at my duffle bag, which is wedged between my feet. Audra said we didn’t need sleeping bags, so I only brought pajamas, a change of clothes, and toiletries. With Ashley driving about five miles an hour, it takes longer than usual for the house to come into view. It’s ablaze in lights.

“
Ho
-
ly
cow …” Lindsay says. “I mean, they all dress like runway models, but I didn’t know they were
frea
-king loaded.”

Everyone gawks as Ashley parks in front of the house. Looking around, I’m just relieved that, with the exception of Audra’s car, the rest of the collection isn’t on display out front like some eclectic car dealership. We get out, and I look toward the house. Audra, who wasn’t there a moment ago, has appeared on the front steps like magic. Her golden hair is loose, and she’s wearing an ice-blue wrap dress. Without reading anyone else’s mind, I’m pretty sure the rest of us are thinking the same thing.

“How do you look so perfect all the time? God!” Lindsay squawks.

“I’m so glad you guys are here! I haven’t had a girls’ night in forever.”

I look over at her as we walk into the house, wondering how literally she means
forever
.

“This house is amazing,” Taylor says.

Audra smiles.

“Thanks, but it’s not mine.”

When we get to the living room, everyone stops and stares at the long black table set up at the back of the room. It has every imaginable category of junk food on display. And there’s a miniature movie theatre set up in front of the enormous sofas.

“You really went all out, didn’t you?” I say quietly while the others start snagging items off the table.

“Is everything right?” she asks with uncharacteristic concern—like it’s even possible she could do anything
wrong
. “Normal, I mean?”

“Not normal for a sleepover,” I laugh. “It’s a little too perfect.”

“This is beyond awesome, Audra!” Lindsay says as she stuffs a miniature cupcake into her mouth.

“Beyond awesome,” I agree.

I walk over to one of the sofas and flop down, and Audra sits down next to me, beaming at her success. For a few brief moments since the time I first saw her in the cafeteria, I have almost been able to see Audra as a normal human girl.
Almost
. This is one of those times.

“Where are the others?” I whisper.

“Effie is close by. Alistair is keeping an eye on your mom. I don’t know about Ever and Chasen.”

“Guys’ night out maybe?” I joke, thinking of bowling and facials.

When the others stop ogling the food and join us, Lindsay starts pulling movies out of her bag.

“Scary or stupid? Or scary
and
stupid. Those are pretty much the choices,” she says.

“Stupid, not scary,” I say quickly.

“No way! Come on!” Ashley cries. “That’s no fun. Scary all the way.”

“I’m with Ash,” Lindsay says.

“Taylor, are you gonna help me out?” I plead.

“Sorry, Wren. I think I could use a little scare that doesn’t involve my home life.”

I cringe as I turn to Audra.

“What about you?”

She shrugs.

“Scary it is,” I sigh.

I really don’t feel like sharing the fact that I spent consecutive nights awake for hours in the fourth grade, thanks to a horror-movie marathon during a sleepover. I haven’t seen a horror movie since. At least until
Hell’s Army
, which I still consider more of an action movie than strictly horror.

“So, what’s the deal? Whose place
is
this?” Lindsay asks. “Do you guys like live here by yourselves or something?

Sitting on the couch and wrapping an arm around Taylor, I desperately try to think up a cover story in case Audra doesn’t have one.

“It’s Ever’s father’s house,” she says with such ease that I nearly believe her. “He’s letting us stay here for the rest of the semester.”

“And speaking of—how do you guys all know each other?” Ashley asks.

“My parents used to work for the embassy in Switzerland. Ever’s dad does a lot of business there, so we’ve known each other forever.”

“And Chasen?” Lindsay asks, making her eyebrows go up and down.

“Same thing. We’ve all traveled around a lot, but we always manage to find each other again.”

Her last statement could be mostly true, except that the three of them have spent the last millennium or two hunting down freaks of nature like me. My question is: what made Ever see me any differently? And somewhere deep down, do I still judge him for his actions? Better yet, would I have made the same choices in his place?

I don’t have the answers to these questions, and I probably never will. After all,
I
haven’t been locked in an infinite battle, so how can I truly know what I would do? When faced with the possibility of Ashley paying for my choices, I chose self-sacrifice over a lifetime of guilt. But in an unending war, would I compromise myself? Betray those I love? Die for them? Kill for them?