Never (The Ever Series Book 2) (22 page)

I nod and watch as they walk to his car, Jessica teetering precariously in enormous gladiator-style heels. When I get back inside, I walk to every door and window, making sure each one is locked. Then I check on Ben, who’s fast asleep, before going into the bedroom and taking out my newly purchased cosmetics. I have less than twenty-four hours to practice the art of application so that I don’t end up looking like I’m wearing clown makeup. I put the CD that came with my purchase into the computer and watch the instructions. Then I walk into the bathroom and set out each piece like a surgical tool before washing my face. Patting my skin dry, I pick up the powder and flip it open, tapping some into the lid. I swirl the brush around my forehead, to my cheeks, then my chin. The result isn’t instantaneous, but after a minute or two it starts to blend.

By the time I put on the lipstick I look like a distant version of myself. Another wave of déjà vu courses through me. It feels like I’m staring at a vision of myself that I’ve seen before, which makes me wonder what Alex sees when he looks at me. He said he could see that I’m an outsider with regret, and he was right.

But is that all he sees—just a reflection of himself?

W
hen I wake up on Saturday morning, it feels like there’s an enormous clock hanging over my head. First, because I’ll be attending my first dance in less than twelve hours. And second, because last night before falling asleep, I promised myself that I would work up the courage to call, text, or e-mail my mom just to see how she’s doing. This is the longest I’ve ever gone without speaking to her, and even if she doesn’t want me around, I need to know she’s okay.

Right after I’ve gotten dressed and collected my dirty laundry from the week, my dad knocks and tells me that they’re going into Laguna for brunch.

“You want to go with?” he asks.

He’s dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt, and I’m not up for formal—or Jessica—at the moment. I shake my head and decide it’s now or never to tell him about the dance.

“Thanks, but I’ve got a bunch of stuff to catch up on before going to the dance tonight.”

His brow arches.

“Jessica didn’t tell you?” I ask.

Recognition begins to dawn in his eyes.

“That’s right. … She said you were going to a school thing with a friend. Well, that’s good.”

“It is?”

I wasn’t expecting him to be
that
happy about it.

“I guess I forgot to tell you. … After lunch, Jess, Ben, and I are driving down to Escondido to see her sister. We’re going to be gone tonight and most of Sunday. You’ll be okay for a night, right?”

I smile, feeling a little like the forgotten daughter. The last thing I want, though, is to visit with Jessica’s relatives. Awkward.

“Or maybe you can stay with your friend?” my dad asks.

I bite back nervous laughter. I highly doubt my dad would be making that suggestion if he had met my
friend
.

“No! I mean, I can stay by myself. It’s fine.”

“Good. I’ll let you know before we leave.”

I nod and smile, feeling a wave of gratitude to Alex for dragging me to the dance, because I’m afraid of what would happen if I sat around all weekend moping. I’m already getting dangerously close to becoming a shut-in as it is.

After my dad and Jessica leave with Ben, the house is deathly quiet, and time speeds up. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but every time I look at the clock another hour has passed, bringing me closer to the dance. By five o’clock, I’m sure another surge of nerve-fueled adrenaline is going to kill me, so I get up from the desk. Going down the hall, I put my clothes in the dryer. Then I grab my running shoes.

I need to burn off these excess nerves.

Locking the front door after me, I tie the house key to my shoelace and start jogging. By the time I come to the intersection of Crown Valley and Coast Highway I’m nearly sprinting. I stop, bending over and breathing heavily. I feel hunted, but by what I can’t figure out. I jog slowly on the way back, thinking about tonight. In a few hours, I’ll be at a dance with the hottest guy I’ve seen in probably my entire lifetime, not counting surreal dreams. I know this should feel like a happy ending, or at the very least, a silver lining. Instead, I’m nervous out of my mind, half afraid it’s some prank out of a horror movie. Or worse, that if I let go of my emotions, I might fall in love with someone I barely know.

One thing is for sure. Taking a run was a good idea. My head is clearer, and my adrenaline is mostly used up. Getting into the house, I go to the kitchen and take out ingredients for a salad, adding some leftover chicken. I eat at the counter and then go to the laundry room to fold my clothes. When I’m done, I get into the shower and scrub myself, washing my hair and shaving my legs. There’s something about this last step that makes my heart rate pick up, and I blush when I realize why. The dress I’m wearing is long, so unless I expect someone to be touching my legs, why would I … ? I shake my head and stop my train of thought right there. If I didn’t happen to be going to this stupid dance, I wouldn’t even think twice, and the fact that I shaved doesn’t mean I think Alex is going to be touching my
anything
. I swallow. Or maybe that’s just what I’m telling myself to keep from dying of an adrenaline overdose.

After I’ve toweled off and combed my hair into submission, I slip the dress on and get started on my makeup, relieved that I practiced the night before since it doesn’t take as long this time to perform my Cinderella-like transformation. I retrieve the charm bracelet my dad gave me and then open the shoebox. The heels shimmer slightly, something I hadn’t noticed when I first saw them. They’re not made of glass, but they’re pretty close. Picking up the second shoe, I notice there’s also a small, matching evening bag in the box, big enough for a cell phone and lipstick. I smile crookedly. Alex has been thinking about this dance way more than the average guy. Taking the shoes, I sit on the edge of the bed and slip each one on. I stand up uncertainly and wobble a few steps. Yeah, dancing is going to be fun.

Realizing there’s still time before Alex shows up, I go out into the hall and walk up and down, trying to imitate the graceful strides of runway models. I don’t come anywhere close, but eventually I cut my stumbling to a tolerable level. Back in the bedroom, I retrieve my phone and key in the two words I’ve been meaning to send to my mom all week.

miss you

Letting out the breath I’ve been holding, I pull my book from my backpack and return to the living room. I sit down on the couch, where I have a view of the street. The good thing is that the dress Alex bestowed on me seems to be wrinkle-proof. I take off the heels and tuck my feet under me. I start reading, feeling jumpy. I only have one chapter left, and as the pages get fewer and fewer, my stomach gets tighter. As soon as I read the last words, I throw the book to the ground, gasping for breath. Racing into the bathroom, I grab the box of tissues before I can cry off all my makeup.

She dies. The spy’s love dies in his arms. He couldn’t save her. The last image of the book haunts me: the hero standing over her grave. No revenge. Just defeat.

The end.

God! Could I have picked a worse book? I always thought the hero won in these types of books. But I was wrong. The hero doesn’t always win; he just survives. The sound of the doorbell makes my heart leap, and I look across the room at the clock. Seven-thirty exactly.

“Perfect timing, Wren!” I mutter, slipping my heels back on and getting up.

Blotting my eyes one last time, I take a few deep breaths and walk to the door. As soon as I open it, my breath catches, and I stare mutely at Alex. If I thought he couldn’t get any more beautiful, then I was wrong. The tie he’s wearing is almost the same color as his eyes, which seem to be glowing in their brightness. His suit fits his lean frame perfectly, and his face … I swipe at my eyes and try to stop staring.

“I didn’t imagine you would be this upset to see me,” he says softly.

I laugh, but it comes out like a hiccup.

“It was the stupid book I was reading. I wasn’t expecting it to end the way it did.”

“You didn’t like it, then?” he asks curiously.

I shake my head.

“No, I liked it, but the ending …” I sigh. “I wanted it to have a happy ending.”

“Not everything does.”

Alex holds out his hand, and I take it, shivering again. As we start walking, I concentrate on the steps ahead of me. Then Alex stops, and I look up at him questioningly.

“You look beautiful, Wren.”

“So do you,” I joke, reaching over playfully to poke him in the side.

The muscles beneath his jacket are like steel, and I retract my hand awkwardly before I run my hands over his muscles like a lunatic. When I start walking again, I try to ignore the electricity in my veins.

“Come on,” I scold. “If we keep pausing on the stairs, we’ll never make it to the dance.”

“I don’t care.”

“Wait a second. After all this?” I demand, pointing to my dress and heels.

“I wish for nothing more than the pleasure of your company and the opportunity to win your favor,” he says seriously as he opens the passenger door of his car.

“You aren’t from this century, are you?”

He smiles.

“Funny, I’ve been accused of that before.”

I sit down, and he closes the door after me. Something about what he just said—
the opportunity to win your favor
—echoes through me, like I’ve heard it before. Almost like Alex is reciting lines from a movie that I’ve seen. As hard as I try, I can’t figure out why his words feel so familiar. Looking for him, I jump when I see he’s already in the driver’s seat. Shaking my head, I laugh at my nerves and look out the window. We’re driving along when I lift my hand and point at the turn toward school.

“You just missed the turn.”

“We’re not going to the dance yet,” he says with a cryptic smile.

“Then where
are
we going?”

“Just a small detour.”

I swallow apprehensively. This would
not
be a good time for him to turn into a crazy. Alex continues straight on Crown Valley before taking a right at the highway, and a few minutes later I see the sign for West Street. When he makes an impossible U-turn and finds a parking space right at the steps to the cove, I’m forced to seriously rethink my claim of being able to drive
any
vehicle better than he can. He comes around to my side and opens the door, and I point to my heels.

“West Street? There are a million steps. I’ll break an ankle in these.”

“You have my word as a gentleman that I will not let you fall.”

He takes my arm, and I begin walking carefully toward the stairs. I remember holding my dad’s hand years ago during the trip when I nearly drowned. Taking the first step gingerly, I grip the handrail in one hand and Alex’s hand in the other. I take a few more awkward steps and then squeak as my feet come out from under me. Suddenly Alex is holding me in his arms, and I blush, trying to catch my breath.

“That was taking too long,” he laughs.

When he begins moving, he doesn’t seem the least bit off balance carrying the weight of an extra person in his arms, and as soon as we reach the bottom of the concrete stairs, he stops, ducking his head close to my ear.

“Should I put you down now?” he asks softly.

I swallow and nod, not trusting my voice. When he sets me down, I take off my shoes and he keeps a grip on my elbow as I pick up the hem of the dress and start walking toward the water. I veer left toward the cove. The sun has already dipped below the water, but the beach is just as pretty as I remember it. I smile, looking out at the water, feeling a surge of hope.

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask curiously.

“You said last weekend that this was your ultimate destination.”

“You remember everything, don’t you?” I murmur.

He nods.

“Thank you.”

“I am curious, though. Why this place?” he asks.

I gesture toward the water.

“I nearly drowned here as a kid.”

When Alex laughs, it’s not in a mean way.

“That seems an odd reason to come back.”

I look down.

“Yeah, I guess. I just needed to see it for some reason.”

When he reaches out and touches my cheek with his fingers, the shock of contact makes me shiver. By the time I finally work up the nerve to I look up at him, he’s already looking away from me toward a person walking toward us from the other end of the beach. Embarrassed that I thought for one second that he was about to kiss me, I look out at the horizon one last time before starting the slow walk through the soft sand toward the stairs.

“We should get to the dance,” I say quietly when he catches up with me.

At the stairs, I keep my heels off and hike up my dress. For some reason, it’s way easier walking up the stairs than down. Or maybe it’s that I really can’t stand the thought of Alex carrying me again, because it makes me feel too vulnerable. Neither one of us says anything as we climb the stairs—much slower than Alex carried me down them—and when we reach the car, the drive to the school is quick—and silent. Alex looks preoccupied as he pulls into the student lot and parks. When he appears at my door, I take his hand gratefully, mostly because I’m worried about getting out without tripping over the heels, the dress, or both. He keeps hold of my hand, and I allow it only until I start seeing other students. Looking up at a banner for the dance, I swallow.

New Beginnings

Appropriate, but oddly melancholy. To me at least. Up ahead, I catch sight of Kayla and her group. Chris is standing next to her, and when we join them, I watch his expression sour. A second later, Kayla pounces on Alex, and I continue inside, trying to imagine what it would be like to be effortlessly outgoing and assume that guys were going to drop at my feet. I avoid the photographer and walk into the dance alone. As I look around for someplace unobtrusive to people watch, I grab a soda from the refreshment table. Seeing some empty tables at the back, I walk over quickly and sit down. For a second, I almost regret finishing my book … until I remember the ending. A shadow looms over me, and I look up at Alex, who’s holding out his hand authoritatively.