Unraveling (42 page)

Authors: Elizabeth Norris

Tags: #David_James Mobilism.org

“Come on,” Elijah says. “We’ve got less than a minute.”

Ben pulls away, and I see Elijah standing at the portal.

Elijah looks back over his shoulder, as if he’s daring Ben
not
to follow him. And then his eyes meet mine, and he nods. It’s the closest to some form of acceptance and understanding that will ever pass between us. I get that, and offer one of his head nods right back at him.

He looks back at Ben, his eyes offering an unspoken threat. And then he moves through the portal, disappearing into the inky blackness.

Elijah Palma no longer exists on this Earth.

My chest feels like it’s collapsing inward. I open my mouth, but I can’t inhale.

Ben looks at me.

As his hand reaches out to cup my face, I can see that he’s crying.

And suddenly, if I don’t kiss him one last time, I will never forgive myself.

Our lips collide—lips, tongues, teeth all come together. His hands grip me so hard, I know I’ll bruise, and I try to drink down the very essence of him through this kiss—try to memorize every moment we spent together.

I want to go back and freeze that moment, that first day in APEL where he asked how I’d want someone to propose to me, that moment when I leaned into him, my lips almost touching his ear, the smell of his shampoo in my nose, the way his breath caught in my ears while I whispered,
Fucking marry me
.

I’m going to miss more moments like that—physics labs and English debates like the ones we already had. Motorcycle-riding lessons, lunches in the library, talking about books, watching superhero movies or playing video games with Jared—moments we should have had together, but won’t.

Ben pulls back, both of us gasping for air.

He takes two steps back. Closer to the portal.

I can’t stop myself. “Ben,” I call. And I’m not even embarrassed about how helpless my voice sounds.

Don’t go
.

“I’ll come back for you.” He takes another step back. “I promise.”

Stay
.

“Janelle Tenner,” he says. “I will always fucking love you.”

And then he takes one more step back. Into the portal. And blackness swallows him whole.

A
nd then the portal closes. The last traces of Ben have left the world completely.

I sink down next to Alex’s body and think of everything I’ve lost since Ben brought me back from the dead. I would have thought my eyes would be dry by now, that my ability to cry would be cut off—there should be a limit to tears.

But I lay my hand on Alex’s forehead and remember the time I was nine and told his mother it was me who ruined her gardenias in the front yard, even though it had been Alex digging them up in a fit of rage because she’d forbidden him to play soccer. And I cry all over again, like I’ve never cried for anything in my life.

I remember the way Alex smiled when he came into first period in seventh grade after this crazy rainstorm had ended, with squeaking sneakers and wet socks that sloshed as he walked, leaving small puddles of water in each spot where his feet touched the floor. His black hair stood on end, and when our teacher asked if he needed a towel or a change of clothes from the nurse, he just shook his head. He ended up with the flu and couldn’t audition for the school play like his mom had wanted him to.

I remember the field trip we took to Big Bear, when we both saw snow and experienced real winter for the first time. With soaked fuzzy mittens and red noses that burned, Alex and I were the only two people who didn’t go skiing that first day. Instead we knelt over clumps of snow lumped by our feet, pushing them together until we had a snowman. We made snow angels and pelted each other with snowballs until we couldn’t feel our faces.

And I remember how I felt after I woke up in that car freshman year, knowing my friendship with Kate was broken—irreparably. And knowing the only person I could go to was Alex.

When my tears have finally stopped, Alex’s forehead has gone cold, and I make a mental note of exactly where we are so Struz can get someone out here for his body and we can bury him. If we don’t find his mom, we can bury Alex in my mother’s plot, right next to my dad.

I think both Alex and my dad would like that.

It starts raining when sunlight peeks over the horizon, and as the water hits my face and my hair, I try to imagine it washing all the heartache and loss away. I tilt my face to the sky, the rain mixing with Alex’s blood and my tears.

I think of the way Ben looked when I saw him—really saw him—for the first time, when he brought me back to life. Looming over me with the sun behind him. I think of the first time we kissed on Sunset Cliffs, and I think of the way he looked when he said,
I’ll come back for you
.

I don’t know if he will, if he’ll be able to, or if it would even make sense. If we belong to two different worlds, how could we ever be together?

But even if I never see him again, he’s given me more than I could ever give back. I have so much to live for—Jared, Struz, this universe. There’s so much for us to do—to rebuild.

Ben Michaels gave me my life back. He gave me a second chance.

I stand there until I’m soaked through, shivering, and numb from the cold. Until my eyes have put their tears to rest.

And I look around the canyon and the devastation that is now North San Diego County.

But I’m alive.

I’m alive.

More alive than I was before any of this happened.

Life is a fragile thing. Apparently the whole world is fragile too.

But it’ll beat on.

Because it has to.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

T
his book owes its allegiance to an array of people. My mother, with her eternal patience and happiness. My sister, and her everlasting desire to challenge herself. My tenth grade English teacher, Mrs. Hall, and the love of literature she passed on to me.

Brooks, who introduced me to a writing workshop and encouraged me to do more than let my pages sit in a document on my computer. My amazing friends, who read overnight and took me to lunch at Cafeteria—Meredith and the Sara(h)s, you’re amazing.

Everyone at Balzer + Bray and HarperCollins, who believed in Janelle and Ben and their story. Especially my editor, Kristin Daly Rens, who took what was essentially the skeleton of a novel and showed me how to make it whole, and Sara Sargent, whose excitement made me slightly less nervous about seeing my words out in the world.

My agent, Janet Reid, whose expertise and advice was—and continues to be—invaluable, and for refusing to let time goblins get the best of her.

And Dan … for *getting* it. All the texts, all the emails, all the late-night, last-minute phone calls. For the reliability and dealing with crazy. For letting his brilliance rub off. For. Every. Thing.

Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

Unraveling

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 978-0-06-210373-4

EPub Edition © APRIL 2012 ISBN 9780062103758

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