AuraColorChart:

Red:Energy,strength,anger,sexuality,passion,fear,ego
Orange:Self-control,ambition,courage,thoughtfulness,lackofwill,apathetic
Yellow:Optimistic,happy,intellectual,friendly,indecisive,easilyled
Green:Peaceful,healing,compassion,deceitfulness,jealous
Blue:Spiritual,loyal,creative,sensitive,kind,moody
Violet:Highlyspiritual,wisdom,intuition
Indigo:Benevolence,highlyintuitive,seeker
Pink:Love,sincerity,friendship
Gray:Depression,sadness,exhaustion,lowenergy,skepticism
Brown:Greed,self-involvement,opinionated
Black:Lackingenergy,illness,imminentdeath
White:Perfectbalance

ChapterOne

"Guesswho?"
Haven's warm, clammy palms press hard against my cheeks as the tarnished edge—of her silver

skullringleavesasmudgeonmyskin.Andeventhoughmyeyesarecoveredandclosed,Iknowthather
dyed black hair is parted in the middle, her black vinyl corset is worn over a turtleneck (keeping in
compliance with our school's dress-code policy), her brand-new, floor sweeping, black satin skirt
alreadyhasaholenearthehemwhereshecaughtitwiththetoeofherDocMartensboots,andhereyes
appeargoldbutthat'sonlybecauseshe'swearingyellowcontacts.

Ialsoknowherdadisn'treallyawayon"business"likehesaid,hermom'spersonaltrainer'sway

more"personal"than"trainer,"andherlittlebrotherbrokeherEvanescenceCDbuthe'stooafraidtotell
her.

ButIdon'tknowanyofthisfromspyingorpeekingorevenbeingtold.IknowbecauseI'mpsychic.
"Hurry!Guess!Thebell'sgonnaring!"shesays,hervoicehoarse,raspy,likeshesmokesapacka

day,eventhoughsheonlytriedsmokingonce.

Istall,thinkingofthelastpersonshe'deverwanttobemistakenfor."IsitHilaryDuff?"
"Ew.Guessagain!"Shepressestighter,havingnoideathatIdon'thavetoseetoknow.
"IsitMrs.MarilynManson?"
Shelaughsandletsgo,lickingherthumbandaimingforthetarnishtattoosheleftonmycheek,butI

raisemyhandandbeathertoit.NotbecauseI'mgrossedoutbythethoughtofhersaliva(Imean,Iknow
she'shealthy),butbecauseIdon'twanthertotouchmeagain.Touchistoorevealing,tooexhausting,soI
trytoavoiditatallcosts.

Shegrabsthehoodofmysweatshirtandflicksitoffmyhead,thensquintsatmyearbudsandasks,

"What'reyoulisteningto?"

IreachinsidetheiPodpocketI'vestitchedintoallofmyhoodies,concealingthoseubiquitouswhite

cordsfromfacultyview,thenIhanditoverandwatchhereyesbugoutwhenshesays,"Whatthe?Imean,
canitbeanylouder?

Andwhoisthat?"ShedanglestheiPodbetweenussowecanbothhearSidViciousscreamingabout

anarchyintheUK.Andthetruthis,Idon'tknowifSid'sforitoragainstit.Ijustknowthathe'salmost
loudenoughtodullmyoverlyheightenedsenses.

"SexPistols,"Isay,clickingitoffandreturningittomysecretcompartment.
"I'msurprisedyoucouldevenhearme."Shesmilesatthesametimethebellrings.
ButIjustshrug.Idon'tneedtolistentohear.Thoughit'snotlikeImentionthat.IjusttellherI'llsee

heratlunchandheadtowardclass,makingmywayacrosscampusandcringingwhenIsensethesetwo
guyssneakingupbehindher,steppingonthehemofherskirt,andalmostmakingherfall.Butwhenshe
turnsandmakesthesignofevil(okay,it'snotreallythesignofevil,it'sjustsomethingshemadeup)and
glaresatthemwithheryelloweyes,theyimmediatelybackoffandleaveheralone.AndIbreatheasigh
ofreliefasIpushintoclass,knowingitwon'tbelongbeforethelingeringenergyofHaven'stouchfades.

Iheadtowardmyseatintheback,avoidingthepurseStaciaMillerhaspurposelyplacedinmypath,

while ignoring her daily serenade of "LOOO-SER!" she croons under her breath. Then I slide onto my
chair,retrievemybook,notebook,andpenfrommybag,insertmyearpiece,pullmyhoodbackovermy
head,dropmybackpackontheemptyseatbesideme,andwaitforMr.Robinstoshow.

Mr. Robins is always late. Mostly because he likes to take a few nips from his small silver flask

betweenclasses.Butthat'sonlybecausehiswifeyellsathimallthetime,hisdaughterthinkshe'saloser,
and he pretty much hates his life. I learned all of that on my first day at this school, when my hand
accidentallytouchedhisasIgavehimmytransferslip.Sonow,wheneverIneedtoturnsomethingin,I
justleaveitontheedgeofhisdesk.

I close my eyes and wait, my fingers creeping inside my sweatshirt, switching the song from

screamingSidVicioustosomethingsofter,smoother.Allthatloudnoiseisnolongernecessarynowthat
I'minclass.Iguessthesmallstudent/teacherratiokeepsthepsychicenergysomewhatcontained.

I wasn't always a freak. I used to be a normal teen. The kind who went to school dances, had

celebritycrushes,andwassovainaboutmylongblondhairIwouldn'tdreamofscrapingitbackintoa
ponytailandhidingbeneathabighoodedsweatshirt.Ihadamom,adad,alittlesisternamedRiley,anda
sweetyellowLabnamedButtercup.Ilivedinanicehouse,inagoodneighborhood,inEugene,Oregon.I
waspopular,happy,andcouldhardlywaitforjunioryeartobeginsinceI'djustmadevarsitycheerleader.
Mylifewascomplete,andtheskywasthelimit.Andeventhoughthatlastpartisatotalcliché,it'salso
ironicallytrue.

Yetallofthat'sjusthearsayasfarasI'mconcerned.Becauseeversincetheaccident,theonlythingI

canclearlyrememberisdying.

I had what they call an NDE, or "near death experience." Only they happen to be wrong. Because

believeme,therewasn'tanything"near"aboutit.It'slike,onemomentmylittlesisterRileyandIwere
sittinginthebackofmydad'sSUV,withButtercup'sheadrestingonRiley'slap,whilehistailthumped
softlyagainstmyleg,andthenextthingIknewalltheairbagswereblown,thecarwastotaled,andIwas
observingitallfromoutside.

Igazedatthewreckage—theshatteredglass,thecrumbleddoors,thefrontbumperclutchingapine

treeinalethalembrace—wonderingwhatwentwrongasIhopedandprayedeveryonehadgottenouttoo.
ThenIheardafamiliarbark,andturnedtoseethemallwanderingdownapath,withButtercupwagging
hertailandleadingtheway.

Iwentafterthem.Atfirsttryingtorunandcatchup,butthenslowingandchoosingtolinger.Wanting

to wander through that vast fragrant field of pulsating trees and flowers that shivered, closing my eyes
againstthedazzlingmistthatreflectedandglowedandmadeeverythingshimmer.

IpromisedmyselfI'donlybeamoment.Thatsoon,I'dgobackandfindthem.ButwhenIdidfinally

look,itwasjustintimetocatchaquickglimpseofthemsmilingandwavingandcrossingabridge,mere
secondsbeforetheyallvanished.

I panicked. I looked everywhere. Running this way and that, but it all looked the same—warm,

white, glistening, shimmering, beautiful, stupid, eternal mist. And I fell to the ground, my skin pricked
withcold,mywholebodytwitching,crying,screaming,cursing,begging,makingpromisesIknewIcould
nevereverkeep.

AndthenIheardsomeonesay,"Ever?Isthatyourname?Openyoureyesandlookatme."
Istumbledbacktothesurface.Backtowhereeverythingwaspain,andmisery,andstingingwethurt

onmyforehead.AndIgazedattheguyleaningoverme,lookedintohisdarkeyes,andwhispered,"I'm
Ever,"beforepassingoutagain.

ChapterTwo

SecondsbeforeMr.Robinswalksin,Ilowermyhood,clickoffmyiPod,andpretendI'mreading

mybook,notbotheringtolookupwhenhesays,"Class,thisisDamenAuguste.Hejustmovedherefrom
New Mexico. Okay Damen, you can take that empty seat in the back, right next to Ever. You'll have to
shareherbookuntilyougetyourowncopy."

Damen is gorgeous. I know this without once looking up. I just focus on my book as he makes his

waytowardmesinceIknowwaytoomuchaboutmyclassmatesalready.SoasfarasI'mconcerned,an
extramomentofignorancereallyisbliss.

But according to the innermost thoughts of Stacia Miller sitting just two rows before me—Damen

Augusteistotallysmokinghot.

Her best friend, Honor, completely agrees. So does Honor's boyfriend, Craig, but that's a whole

otherstory.

"Hey."Damenslidesontotheseatnexttomine,mybackpackmakingamuffledthudashedropsitto

thefloor.

Inod,refusingtolookanyfurtherthanhissleek,black,motorcycleboots.ThekindthataremoreGQ

than Hells Angels. The kind that looks very out of place among the rows of multicolored flip-flops
currentlygracingthegreencarpetedfloor.

Mr.Robinsasksusalltoturnourbookstopage133,promptingDamentoleaninandsay,"MindifI

share?"

Ihesitate,dreadingtheproximity,butslidemybookallthewayoveruntilit'steeteringofftheedge

ofmydesk.Andwhenhemoveshischaircloser,bridgingthesmallgapbetweenus,Iscoottothefarthest
partofmyseatandhidebeneathmyhood.

Helaughsunderhisbreath,butsinceI'veyettolookathim,Ihavenoideawhatitmeans.AllIknow

isthatitsoundedlightandamused,butlikeitheldsomethingmore.

Isinkevenlower,cheekonpalm,eyesontheclock.Determinedtoignoreallthewitheringglances

andcriticalcommentsdirectedmyway.Stufflike:Poorhot,sexy,gorgeousnewguy,havingtositnextto
thatfreak!ThatemanatesfromStacia,Honor,Craig,andjustabouteveryoneelseintheroom.

Well,allexceptforMr.Robins,whowantsclasstoendalmostasmuchasme.

By lunch, everyone's talking about Damen. Have you seen that new kid Damen? He's so hot—So

sexy—I heard he's from Mexico—No I think it's Spain—Whatever, it's some foreign place—I'm totally
askinghimtoWinterFormal—Youdon'tevenknowhimyet—Don'tworryIwill—

"Omigod.Haveyouseenthatnewkid,Damen?"Havensitsbesideme,peeringthroughhergrowing-

outbangs,theirspikytipsendingjustshyofherdarkredlips.

"Ohplease,notyoutoo."Ishakemyheadandbiteintomyapple.
"You would so not be saying that if you'd been privileged enough to actually see him," she says,

removing her vanilla cupcake from its pink cardboard box, licking the frosting right off the top in her
usual lunchtime routine, even though she dresses more like someone who' d rather drink blood than eat
tinylittlesweetcakes.

"AreyouguystalkingaboutDamen?"Mileswhispers,slidingontothebenchandplacinghiselbows

onthetable,hisbrowneyesdartingbetweenus,hisbabyfacecurvingintoagrin."Gorgeous!Didyousee
theboots?SoVogue.IthinkI'llinvitehimtobemynextboyfriend."

Havengazesathimwithnarrowed,yelloweyes."Toolate,Icalleddibs."
"I'msorry,Ididn'trealizeyouwereintonon-Goths."Hesmirks,rollinghiseyesasheunwrapshis

sandwich.

Havenlaughs."WhentheylooklikethatIam.Iswearhe'sjustsofreakingsmoldering,youhaveto

seehim."Sheshakesherhead,annoyedthatIcan'tjoininonthefun.

"He'slike—combustible!"
"Youhaven'tseenhim?"Milesgripshissandwichandgapesatme.
Igazedownatthetable,wonderingifIshouldjustlie.They'remakingsuchabigdealI'mthinking

it'smyonlywayout.OnlyIcan't.Nottothem.HavenandMilesaremybestfriends.Myonlyfriends.And
Ifeellikermkeepingenoughsecretsalready.

"IsatnexttohiminEnglish,"Ifinallysay."Wewereforcedtoshareabook.ButIdidn'treallygeta

goodlook."

"Forced?"Havenmovesherbangstotheside,allowingforanunobstructedviewofthefreakwho'd

daresaysuchathing."Ohthatmusthavebeenawfulforyou,thatmust'vereallysucked."Sherollsher
eyesandsighs."Iswear,youhavenoideahowluckyyouare.Andyoudon'tevenappreciateit."

"Whichbook?"Milesasks,asthoughthetitlewillsomehowtellsomethingmeaningful.
"WutheringHeights."Ishrug,placingmyapplecoreonthecenterofmynapkinandfoldingtheedges

allaround.

"Andyourhood?Upordown?"Havenasks.
Ithinkback,rememberinghowIraiseditrightashemovedtowardme."Um,up,"Itellher."Yeah,

definitelyup."Inod.

"Wellthankyouforthat,"shemumbles,breakinghervanillacupcakeinhalf."ThelastthingIneedis

competitionfromtheblondgoddess."

Icringeandgazedownatthetable.Igetembarrassedwhenpeoplesaythingslikethat.Apparently,I

used to live for that kind of thing, but not anymore. "Well, what about Miles? You don't think he's
competition?Iask,divertingtheattentionawayfrommeandbackonsomeonewhocantrulyappreciateit.

"Yeah." Miles runs his hand through his short brown hair and turns, gracing us with his very best

side."Don'truleitout.

"Totallymoot,"Havensays,dustingwhitecrumbsfromherlap.
"DamenandMilesdon'tplayforthesameteam.Whichmeanshisohsodevastating,model-quality

looksdon'tcount."

"How do you know which team he's on?" Miles asks, twisting the cap off his Vitamin Water and

narrowinghisgaze."Howcanyoubesosure?"

"Gaydar,"shesays,tappingherforehead."Andtrustme,thisguydoesnotregister."

NotonlyisDameninmyfirstperiodEnglishclass,andmysixthperiodartclass(notthathesatby

me,andnotthatlooked),butthethoughtsswirlingaroundtheroom,evenfromourteacher,Ms.Machado,
toldmeeverythingIneededtoknow),butnowhe'dapparentlyparkednexttometoo.AndeventhoughI'd
managedtoavoidviewinganythingmorethanhisboots,Iknewmygraceperiodhadjustcometoanend.

"Omigod, there he is! Right directly next to us!" Miles squeals, in the high-pitched, sing songy

whisperhesavesforlife'smostexcitingmoments."AndcheckoutthatrideshinyblackBMW,ultra-dark
tinted windows. Nice, very nice. Okay, so here's the deal, I'm going to open my door and accidentally
bumpitintohis,sothenI'llhaveanexcusetotalktohim."Heturns,awaitingmyconsent.

"Donotscratchmycar.Orhiscar.Oranyothercar,"Isay,shakingmyheadandretrievingmykeys.
"Fine."Hepouts."Shattermydream,whatever.Butjustdoyourselfafavorandcheckhimout!And

thenlookmeintheeyeandtellmehedoesn'tmakeyouwanttofreakoutandfaint."

I roll my eyes and squeeze between my car and the poorly parked VW Bug that's angled so

awkwardly it looks like it's trying to mount my Miata. And just as I'm about to unlock the door, Miles
yanksdownmyhood,swipesmysunglasses,andrunstothepassengersidewhereheurgesme,vianotso
subtleheadtiltsandthumbjabs,tolookatDamenwho'sstandingbehindhim.

SoIdo.Imean,it'snotlikeIcanavoiditforever.SoItakeadeepbreathandlook.AndwhatIsee

leavesmeunabletospeak,blink,ormove.AndeventhoughMilesstartswavingatme,glaringatme,and
basicallygivingmeeverysignalhecanthinkoftoabortthemissionandreturntoheadquarters-Ican't.I
mean,I'dliketo,becauseIknowI'mactinglikethefreakeveryone'salreadyconvincedthatIam,butit's
completelyimpossible.Andit'snotjustbecauseDamenisundeniablybeautiful,withhisshinydarkhair
thathitsjustshyofhisshouldersandcurvesaroundhishighsculptedcheekbones,butwhenhelooksat
me,whenheliftshisdarksunglassesandmeetsmygaze,Iseethathisalmondshapedeyesaredeep,dark,
andstrangelyfamiliar,framedbylashessolushtheyalmostseemfake.Andhislips!Hislipsareripeand
invitingwithaperfectCupid'sbow.Andthebodythatholdsitallupislong,lean,tight,andcladinall
black.

"Um,Ever?hello?Youcanwakeupnow.Please."MilesturnstoDamen,laughingnervously.
"Sorryaboutmyfriendhere,sheusuallyhasherhoodon."It'snotlikeIdon'tknowIhavetostop.I

needtostoprightnow.ButDamen'seyesarefixedonmine,andtheircolorgrowsdeeperashismouth
beginstocurve.

But it's not his complete gorgeousness that has me so transfixed. It has nothing to do with that. It's

mainlythewaytheentireareasurroundinghisbody,startingfromhisgloriousheadandgoingalltheway
downtothesquare-cuttoesofhisblackmotorcycleboots,consistsofnothingbutblankemptyspace.

Nocolor.Noaura.Nopulsinglightshow.
Everyonehasanaura.Everylivingbeinghasswirlsofcoloremanatingfromtheirbody.Arainbow

energyfieldthey'renotevenawareof.Andit'snotlikeit'sdangerous,orscary,orinanywaybad,it'sjust
partofthevisible(well,tomeanyway)magneticfield.

BeforetheaccidentIdidn'tevenknowaboutthingslikethat.AndIdefinitelywasn'tabletoseeit.

ButfromthemomentIwokeinthehospital,Inoticedcoloreverywhere.

"Areyoufeelingokay?"Thered-hairednurseasked,gazingdownanxiously.
"Yes,butwhyareyouallpink?"Isquinted,confusedbythepastelglowthatenvelopedher.
"WhyamIwhat?"Shestruggledtohideheralarm.
"Pink.Youknow,it'sallaroundyou,especiallyyourhead."
"Okay,sweetheart,youjustrestandI'llgogetthedoctor,"she'dsaid,backingoutoftheroomand

runningdownthehall.

Itwasn'tuntilafterI'dbeensubjectedtoabarrageofeyeexams,brainscans,andpsychevalsthatI

learnedtokeepthecolorwheelsightingstomyselfAndbythetimeIstartedhearingthoughts,gettinglife
storiesbytouch,andenjoyingregularvisitswithmydeadsister,Riley,Iknewbetterthantoshare.

IguessI'dgottensousedtolivinglikethis,I'dforgottentherewasanotherway.ButseeingDamen

outlinedbynothingmorethantheshinyblackpaintjobonhisexpensivecoolcarisavaguereminderof
happier,morenormaldays.

"Ever, right?" Damen says, his face warming into a smile, revealing just another one of his

perfections—dazzlingwhiteteeth.

I stand there, willing my eyes to leave his, as Miles makes a show of clearing his throat. And

rememberinghowhehatestobeignored,Imotiontowardhimandsay,"Oh,sorry.Miles,Darnen,Damen,
Miles."Andthewholetimemyeyesneveroncewaver.

DamenglancesatMiles,noddingbrieflybeforefocusingbackonme.AndeventhoughIknowthis

soundscrazy,forthesplitsecondhiseyesmovedaway,Ifeltstrangelycoldandweak.

But the moment his gaze returns, it's all warm and good again. "Can I ask a favor?" He smiles.

"WouldyoulendmeyourcopyofWutheringHeights?IneedtogetcaughtupandIwon'thavetimetovisit
thebookstoretonight."

Ireachintomybackpack,retrievemydog-earedcopy,anddangleitfromthetipsofmyfingers,part

ofmeyearningtobrushthetipsagainsthis,tomakecontactwiththisbeautifulstranger,whiletheother
part,thestronger,wiser,psychicpartcringes—dreadingtheawfulflashofinsightthatcomeswitheach
touch.

Butit'snotuntilhe'stossedthebookintohiscar,loweredhissunglasses,andsaid,"Thanks,seeyou

tomorrow," that I realize that other than a slight tingle in the tips of my fingers, nothing happened. And
beforeIcanevenrespond,he'sbackingoutofthespaceanddrivingaway.

"Excuseme,"Milessays,shakinghisheadasheclimbsinbesideme."ButwhenIsaidyou'dfreak

out when you saw him, it wasn't a suggestion, it wasn't supposed to be taken literally. Seriously Ever,
whathappenedbackthere?Becausethatwassomemegatenseawkwardness,areal"Hello,mynameis
Ever and I'll be your next stalker" kind of moment. I'm so serious, I thought we were gonna have to
resuscitateyou.Andbelieveme,youareextremelyluckyourgoodfriendHavenwasnotheretoseethat,
becauseIhatetoremindyou,butshedidcalldibs..."

Milescontinueslikethat,yammeringonandon,theentirewayhome.ButIjustlethimtalkitoutasI

navigatetraffic,myfingerabsentlytracingthethickredscaronmyforehead,theonethat'shiddenunder
mybangs.

Imean,howcanIexplainhoweversincetheaccident,theonlypeoplewhosethoughtsIcan'thear,

whoselivesIcan'tknow,andwhoseaurasIcan'tsee,arealreadydead?

ChapterThree

I let myself into the house, grab a bottle of water from the fridge, then head upstairs to my room,

since I don't have to poke around any further to know Sabine's still at work. Sabine's always at work,
whichmeansIgetthiswholehugehousetomyself,prettymuchallthetime,eventhoughIusuallyjuststay
inmyroom.

IfeelbadforSabine.Ifeelbadthatthelifesheworkedsohardforwasforeverchangedthedayshe

gotstuckwithme.Butsincemymomwasanonlychildandallofmygrandparentshadpassedbythetime
I was two, it's not like she had much of a choice. I mean, it was either live with her—my dad's only
sibling and twin—or go into foster care until I turned eighteen. And even though she doesn't know
anythingaboutraisingkids,Iwasn'tevenoutofthehospitalbeforeshe'dsoldhercondo,boughtthisbig
house,andhiredoneofOrangeCounty'stopdecoratorstotrickoutmyroom.

Imean,Ihavealltheusualthingslikeabed,adresser,andadesk.ButIalsohaveaflat-screenTV,a

massivewalk-incloset,ahugebathroomwithaJacuzzitubandseparateshowerstall,abalconywithan
amazing ocean view, and my own private den/ game room, with yet another flat-screen TV, a wet bar,
microwave,minifridge,dishwasher,stereo,couches,tables,beanbagchairs,theworks.

It'sfunnyhowbeforeIwould'vegivenanythingforaroomlikethis.ButnowI'dgiveanythingjustto

gobacktobefore.IguesssinceSabinespendsmostofhertimearoundotherlawyersandallthoseVIP
executivesherfirmrepresents,sheactuallythoughtallofthisstuffwasnecessaryorsomething.AndI've
neverbeensureifhernothavingkidsisbecausesheworksallthetimeandcan'tscheduleitin,orifshe
justhasn'tmettherightguyyet,orifsheneverwantedanytobeginwith,ormaybeacombinationofall
three.

ItprobablyseemslikeIshouldknowallofthat,beingpsychicandall.ButIcan'tnecessarilyseea

personsmotivation,mainlywhatIseeareevents.Likeawholestringofimagesreflectingsomeone'slife,
likeflashcardsorsomething,onlymoreinamovie-trailerformat.ThoughsometimesIjustseesymbols
that I have to decode to know what they mean. Kind of like with tarot cards, or when we had to read
Animal Farm in Honors English last year. Though it's far from fool proof, and sometimes I get it all
wrong. But whenever that happens I can trace it right back to me, and the fact that some pictures have
morethanonemeaning.LikethetimeImistookabigheartwithacrackdownthemiddleforheartbreak—
untilthewomandroppedtothefloorincardiacarrest.Sometimesitcangetalittleconfusingtryingtosort
itallout.Buttheimagesthemselvesneverlie.

Anyway, I don't think you have to be clairvoyant to know that when people dream of having kids

they'reusuallythinkingintermsofapastel-wrapped,tinybundleofjoy,andnotsomefive-foot-four,blue-

eyed,blond-hairedteenagerwithpsychicpowersandatonofemotionalbaggage.Sobecauseofthat,Itry
tostayquiet,respectful,andoutofSabine'sway.AndIdefinitelydon'tletonthatItalktomydeadlittle
sisteralmosteveryday.

ThefirsttimeRileyappeared,shewasstandingatthefootofmyhospitalbed,inthemiddleofthe

night,holdingaflowerinonehandandwavingwiththeother.I'mstillnotsurewhatitwasthatawoke
me,sinceit'snotlikeshespokeormadeanykindofsound.IguessIjustfeltherpresenceorsomething,
likeachangeintheroom,orachargeintheair.

AtfirstIassumedIwashallucinating—justanothersideeffectofthepainmedicationIwason.But

after blinking a bunch and rubbing my eyes, she was still there, and I guess it never occurred to me to
screamorcallforhelp.

Iwatchedasshecamearoundtothesideofmybed,pointedatthecastscoveringmyarmsandleg,

andlaughed.Imean,itwassilentlaughter,butstill,it'snotlikeIthoughtitwasfunny.Butassoonasshe
noticedmyangryexpression,sherearrangedherfaceandmotionedasthoughaskingifithurt.

Ishrugged,stillalittleunhappywithherforlaughing,andmorethanalittlefreakedbyherpresence.

AndeventhoughIwasn'tentirelyconvinceditwasreallyher,thatdidn'tstopmefromasking,"Whereare
MomandDadandButtercup?"

Shetiltedherheadtotheside,asthoughtheywerestandingrighttherebesideher,butallIcouldsee

wasblankspace.

"Idon'tgetit."
Butshejustsmiled,placedherpalmstogether,andtiltedherheadtotheside,indicatingthatIshould

gobacktosleep.

SoIclosedmyeyes,eventhoughIneverwould'vetakenordersfromherbefore.Thenjustasquickly

Iopenedthemandsaid,"Hey,whosaidyoucouldborrowmysweater?"

Andjustlikethat,shewasgone.
I admit, I spent the rest of that night angry with myself for asking such a stupid, shallow, selfish

question.Hererdhadtheopportunitytogetanswerstosomeoflife'sbiggestqueries,topossiblygainthe
kindofinsightpeoplehavebeenspeculatingaboutforages.Butinstead,Iwastedthemomentcallingout
mydeadlittlesisterforraidingmycloset.Iguessoldhabitsreallydodiehard.

Thesecondtimesheappeared,Iwasjustsogratefultoseeher,Ididn'tmakeanymentionofthefact

that she was wearing riot just my favorite sweater, but also my best jeans (that were so long the hems
puddledaroundherankles),andthecharmbraceletIgotformythirteenthbirthdaythatIalwaysknewshe
coveted.

InsteadIjustsmiledandnoddedandactedasthoughIdidn'tevennotice,asIleanedtowardherand

squinted."Sowhere'reMomandDad?"Iasked,thinkingthey'dappearifIjustlookedhardenough.

ButRileyjustsmiledandflappedherarmsbyhersides.
"Youmeanthey'reangels?"Myeyeswentwide.Sherolledhereyesandshookherhead,clutching

herwaistasshebentoverinfitsofsilentlaughter.

"Okay,fine,whatever."Ithrewmybodybackagainstthepillows,thinkingshewasreallypushingit,

evenifshewasdead.

"Sotellme,what'sitlikeoverthere?"Iasked,determinednottofight."Areyou,well,doyoulike,

liveinheaven?"

She closed her eyes and raised her palms as though balancing an object, and then right out of

nowhere,apaintingappeared.Ileanedforward,gazingatapictureofwhatwassurelyparadise,matted
inoff-whiteandencasedinanelaborategoldframe.Theoceanwasdeepblue,thecliffsrugged,thesand
golden, the trees flowering, and a shadowy silhouette of a small distant island could be seen in the

distance.

"Sowhyaren'tyoutherenow?"Iasked.
Andwhensheshrugged,thepicturedisappeared.Andsodidshe.
I'd been in the hospital for more than a month, suffering broken bones, a concussion, internal

bleeding, cuts and bruises, and a pretty deep gash on my forehead. So while I was all bandaged and
medicated, Sabine was burdened with the thankless task of clearing out the house, making funeral
arrangements,andpackingmythingsforthebigmovesouth.

She asked me to make a list of all the items I wanted to bring. All the things I might want to drag

from my perfect former life in Eugene, Oregon, to my scary new one in Laguna Beach, California. But
otherthansomeofmyclothes,Ididn'twantanything.Ijustcouldn'tbearasinglereminderofeverything
I'dlost,sinceit'snotlikesomestupidboxfullofcrapwouldeverbringmyfamilyback.

The whole time I was cooped up in that sterile white room, I received regular visits from a

psychologist, some overeager intern with a beige cardigan and clipboard, who always started our
sessionswiththesamelamequestionabouthowIwashandlingmy"profoundloss"(hiswords,notmine).
Afterwhichhe'dtrytoconvincemetoheaduptoroom6I8,wherethegriefcounselingtookplace.

But no way was I taking part in that. No way would I sit in a circle with a bunch of anguished

people,waitingformyturntosharethestoryoftheworstdayofmylife.Imean,howwasthatsupposed
tohelp?HowcoulditpossiblymakemefeelbettertoconfirmwhatIalreadyknewthatnotonlywasI
solelyresponsibleforwhathappenedtomyfamily,butalsothatIwasstupidenough,selfishenough,and
lazyenoughtoloiter,dawdle,andprocrastinatemyselfrightoutofeternity?

SabineandIdidn'tspeakmuchontheflightfromEugenetoJohnWayneAirport,andIpretendedit

was because of my grief and injuries, but really I just needed some distance. I knew all about her
conflictingemotions,howontheonehandshewantedsodesperatelytodotherightthing,whileonthe
othershecouldn'tstopthinking:Whyme?IguessIneverwonderwhyme?MostlyIthinkwhythemand
notme?

ButIalsodidn'twanttoriskhurtingher.Afterallthetroubleshe'dgoneto,takingmeinandtryingto

provideanicehome,Icouldn'trisklettingherknowhowallofherhardworkandgoodintentionswere
completelywastedonme.Howshecould'vejustdroppedmeoffatanyolddumpanditwouldn'thave
madetheleastbitofdifference.

Thedrivetothenewhousewasablurofsun,sea,andsand,andwhenSabineopenedthedoorand

ledmeupstairstomyroom,Igaveitaquickcursoryglancethenmumbledsomethingsoundingvaguely
likethanks.

''I'm sorry I have to run out on you," she'd said, obviously anxious to get back to her office where

everythingwasorganized,consistent,andborenoresemblancetothefragmentedworldofatraumatized
teen.

Andthemomentthedoorclosedbehindher,Ithrewmyselfonmybed,buriedmyfaceinmyhands,

andstartedbawlingmyeyesout.

Until someone said, "Oh please, would you look at yourself? Have you even seen this place? The

flat-screen,thefireplace,thetubthatblowsbubbles?Imean,hello?"

"Ithoughtyoucouldn'ttalk?"Irolledoverandglaredatmysister,who,bytheway,wasdressedina

pinkJuicytracksuit,goldNikes,andabrightfuchsiachinadollwig.

"OfcourseIcantalk,don'tberidiculous;"Sherolledhereyes."Butthelastfewtimes—"Istarted.
"Iwasjusthavingalittlefun.Soshootme."Shestalkedaroundmyroom,runningherhandsovermy

desk,fingeringthenewlaptopandiPodSabinemusthaveplacedthere.

"Icannotbelieveyouhaveasetuplikethis.Thisissofreakingunfair!"Sheplacedherhandsonher

hipsandscowled."Andyou'renotevenappreciatingit!Imean,haveyouevenseenthebalconyyet?Have
youevenbotheredtocheckouttheview?"

"I don't care about the view," I said, folding my arms across my chest and glaring. "And I can't

believeyoutrickedmelikethat,pretendingyoucouldn'tspeak."

Butshejustlaughed."You'llgetoverit."
Iwatchedasshestrodeacrossmyroom,pushedthedrapesaside,andstruggledtounlockthefrench

doors.

"Andwhereareyougettingalltheseclothes?"Iasked,scrutinizingherfromheadtotoe,reverting

rightbacktoournormalroutineofbickeringandgrudgeholding."Becausefirstyoushowupinmystuff,
andnowyou'rewearingJuicy,andIknowforafactthatMomneverboughtyouthosesweats."

She laughed. "Please, like I still need Mom's permission when I can just head over to the big

celestialclosetandtakewhateverIwant.Forfree,"shesaid,turningtosmile.

"Serious?"Iasked,myeyesgoingwide,thinkingthatsoundedlikeaprettysweetdeal.Butshejust

shookherheadandwavedmeover."Comeon,comecheckoutyourcoolnewview."

SoIdid.Igotupoffthebed,wipedmyeyeswithmysleeve,andheadedformybalcony.Brushing

rightpastmylittlesisterasIsteppedontothestonetilefloor,myeyesgoingwideasItookinthescenery
beforeme.

"Is this supposed to be funny?" I asked, gazing out at a view that was an exact replica of the gilt-

framed picture of paradise she'd shown me in the hospital. But when I turned back to face her, she'd
alreadygone.

ChapterFour

It was Riley who helped me recover my memories. Guiding me through childhood stories and

remindingmeofthelivesweusedtoliveandthefriendsweusedtohave,untilitallbegantoresurface.
ShealsohelpedmeappreciatemynewSouthernCalifornialife.Becauseseeinghergetsoexcitedbymy
coolnewroom,myshinyredconvertible,theamazingbeaches,andmynewschool,mademerealizethat
eventhoughitwasn'tthelifeIpreferred,itstillhadvalue.

Andeventhoughwestillfightandargueandgetoneachother'snervesasmuchasbefore,thetruth

is,Iliveforhervisits.Beingabletoseeheragaingivesmeonelesspersontomiss.Andthetimewe
spendtogetheristhebestpartofeachday.

Theonlyproblemis,sheknowsit.SoeverytimeIbringupthesubjectsshe'sdeclaredstrictlyoff

limits,thingslike:WhendoIgettoseeMom,Dad,andButtercup?And,wheredoyougowhenyou'renot
here?Shepunishesmebystayingaway.

Buteventhoughherrefusaltosharereallybugsme,Iknowbetterthantopushit.It'snotlikeI've

confidedmynewauraspotting/mind-readingabilities,orhowmuchit'schangedme,includingthewayI
dress.

"You'renevergonnagetaboyfrienddressedlikethat,"shesays,loungingonmybedasIrushthrough

mymorningroutine,tryingtogetreadyforschoolandoutthedoormoreorlessontime.

"Yeah,well,notallofuscanjustcloseoureyesandpoof,haveanamazingnewwardrobe,"Isay,

shovingmyfeetintoworn-outtennisshoesandtyingthefrayedlaces.

"Please,likeSabinewouldn'thandoverhercreditcardandtellyoutohaveatit.Andwhat'swiththe

hood?Youinagang?"

"Idon'thavetimeforthis,"Isay,grabbingmybooks,iPod,andbackpack,thenheadingforthedoor.

"Youcoming?"Iturntolookather,mypatiencerunningbig-timethinasshepursesherlipandtakesher
timetodecide.

"Okay," she finally says. "But only if you put the top down. I just love the feel of the wind in my

hair."

"Fine."Iheadforthestairs.'Justmakesureyou'regonebythetimewegettoMiles's.Itcreepsme

outtoseeyousittinginhislapwithouthispermission."

By the time Miles and I get to school, Haven is already waiting by the gate,—her eyes darting

frantically,scanningthecampusasshesays,"Okay,thebell'sgonnaringinlessthanfiveminutesandstill
nosignofDamen.Youthinkhedroppedout?"Shelooksatus,yelloweyeswidewithalarm.

"Whywouldhedropout?Hejuststarted,"Isay,headingformylockerassheskipsalongsideme,

thethickrubbersolesofherbootsbouncingoffthepavement.

"Uh,becausewe'renotworthy?Becausehereallyistoogoodtobetrue?"
"But he has to come back. Ever leant him her copy of Wuthering Heights, which means he has to

returnit,"Milessays,beforeIcanstophim.

Ishakemyhead,andspinmycombinationlock,feelingtheweightofHaven'sglarewhenshesays,

"Whendidthishappen?"Sheputsherhandonherhipandstaresatme.

"BecauseyouknowIcalleddibs,right?Andwhydidn'tIgetanupdate?Whydidn'tanyonetellme

aboutthis?LastIheardyouhadn'tevenseenhimyet."

"Oh,shesawhimalright.Ialmosthadtodialnine-one-oneshefreakedoutsobad."Mileslaughs.
Ishakemyhead,shutmylocker,andheaddownthehall.
"Well,it'strue."Heshrugs,walkingalongsideme.
"So let me get this straight, you're more of a liability than a threat?" Haven peers at me through

narrowed,heavilylinedeyes,herjealousytransformingherauraintoadullpukegreen.

I take a deep breath and look at them, thinking how if they weren't my friends, I'd tell them how

ridiculousthisallis.Imean,sincewhencanyoucalldibsonanotherperson?Besides,it'snotlikeI'mall
thatdatableinmycurrentvoice-hearing,aura-seeing,baggy-sweatshirt-wearingcondition.

But I don't say any of that. Instead I just say, "Yes, I'm a liability. I'm a huge uninsurable disaster

waiting to happen. But I'm definitely not a threat. Mainly because I'm not interested. And I know that's
probablyhardtobelieve,withhimbeingsogorgeousandsexyandhotandsmolderingandcombustible
orwhateveritisthatyoucallhim,butthetruthis,Idon'tlikeDamenAuguste,andIdon'tknowhowelse
tosayit!"

"Um, I don't think you need to say anything else," Haven mumbles, her face frozen as she stares

straightahead.

I follow her gaze, all the way to where Damen is standing, all shiny dark hair, smoldering eyes,

amazing body, and knowing smile, feeling my heart skip two beats as he holds the door open and says,
"HeyEver,afteryou."

Istormtowardmydesk,narrowlyavoidingthebackpackStaciahasplacedinmypath,asmyface

burns with shame, knowing Damen's right there behind me, and that he heard every horrifying word I
justsaid.Itossmybagtothefloor,slideontomyseat,liftmyhood,andcrankmyiPod,hopingtodrown
outthenoiseanddeflectwhatjusthappened,assuringmyselfthataguylikethat—aguysoconfident,so
gorgeous,socompletelyamazing—istoocooltobotherwiththecarelesswordsofagirllikeme.

ButjustasIstarttorelax,justasI'veconvincedmyselfnottocare,I'mjoltedbyanoverwhelming

shock—anelectricchargeinfusingmyskin,slammingmyveins,andmakingmywholebodytingle.And
it'sallbecauseDamenplacedhishanduponmine.

It's hard to surprise me. Ever since I became psychic, Riley's the only one who can do so, and

believeme,shenevertiresoffindingnewways.ButwhenIglancefrommyhandtoDamen'sface,hejust
smiles and says, "I wanted to return this." Then he gives me my copy of Wuthering Heights. And even
thoughIknowthissoundsweirdandmorethanalittlecrazy,themomenthespoke,thewholeroomwent
silent. Seriously, like one moment it was filled with the sound of random thoughts and voices, and the
next"

Yetknowinghowridiculousthatis,Ishakemyheadandsay,"Areyousureyoudon'twanttokeep

it?BecauseIreallydon'tneedit,Ialreadyknowhowitends."Andeventhoughheremoveshishandfrom
mine,it'samomentbeforeallthetinglingdiesdown.

"I know how it ends too," he says, gazing at me in a way so intense, so insistent, so intimate, I

quicklylookaway.

And just as I'm about to reinsert my earbuds, so I can block out the sound of Stacia and Honor's

continuous loop of cruel commentary, Damen places his hand back on mine and says, "What're you
listeningto?"

Andthewholeroomgoesquietagain.Seriously,forthosefewbriefseconds,therewerenoswirling

thoughts,nohushedwhispers,nothingbutthesoundofhissoft,lyricalvoice.Imean,whenithappened
before,Ifigureditwasjustme.ButthistimeIknowthatit'sreal.Becauseeventhoughpeoplearestill
talking and thinking and engaging in all of the usual things, it's completely blocked by the sound of his
words.

Isquint,noticinghowmybodyhasgoneallwarmandelectric;wonderingwhatcouldpossiblybe

causingit.Imean,it'snotlikeIhaven'thadmyhandtouchedbefore,thoughI'veyettoexperienceanything
remotelylikethis.

"Iaskedwhatyou'relisteningto."Hesmiles.Asmilesoprivateandintimate,Ifeelmyfaceflush.
"Oh,um,it'sjustsomegothmixmyfriendHavenmade.It'smostlyold,eightiesstuff,youknowlike

theCure,SiouxsieandtheBanshees,Bauhaus."Ishrug,unabletoavertmygazeasIstareintohiseyes,
tryingtodeterminetheirexactcolor.

"You'reintogoth?"heasks,browsraised,eyesskeptical,takinginventoryofmylongblondponytail,

darkbluesweatshirt,andmake-upfree,cleanscrubbedskin.

"No, not really. Haven's all into it." I laugh—a nervous, cackling, cringe-worthy sound—that

bouncesoffallfourwallsandrightbackatme.

"Andyou?Whatareyouinto?"Hiseyesstillonmine,hisfaceclearlyamused.
And just as I'm about to answer, Mr. Robins walks in, his cheeks red and flushed, but not from a

brisk walk like everyone thinks. And then Damen leans back in his seat, and I take a deep breath and
lowermyhood,sinkingbackintothefamiliarsoundsofadolescentangst,teststress,bodyimageissues,
Mr.Robin'sfaileddreams,andStacia,Honor,andCraigallwonderingwhatthehotguycouldpossibly
seeinme.

ChapterFive

BythetimeImakeittoourlunchtableHavenandMilesarealreadythere.ButwhenIseeDamen

sittingbesidethem,I'mtemptedtoruntheotherway.

"You'refreetojoinus,butonlyifyoupromisenottostareatthenewkid."Mileslaughs.
"Staringisveryrude.Didn'tanyoneevertellyouthat?"
Irollmyeyesandslideontothebenchbesidehim,determinedtoshowjusthowblaseIamabout

Damen'spresence."Iwasraisedbywolves,whatcanIsay?"Ishrug,busyingmyselfwiththezipperon
mylunchpack.

"Iwasraisedbyadragqueenandaromancenovelist,"Milessays,reachingovertostealacandy

cornoffthetopofHaven'spre-Halloweencupcake.

"Sorry,thatwasn'tyou,sweetie,thatwasChandleronFriends."
Haven laughs. "I, on the other hand, was raised in a coven. I was a beautiful vampire princess,

loved,worshiped,andadmiredbyall.Ilivedinaluxurious,gothiccastle,andIhavenoideahowIended
upatthishideousfiberglasstablewithyoulosers."shenodsatDamen."Andyou?"

Hetakesasipofhisdrink,someiridescentredliquidinaglassbottle,thenhegazesatallthreeof

usandsays,

"Italy, France, England, Spain, Belgium, New York, New Orleans, Oregon, India, New Mexico,

Egypt,andafewotherplacesinbetween."Hesmiles.

"Canyousay'militarybrat'?"Havenlaughs,pickingoffacandycornandtossingittoMiles.
"EverlivedinOregon,"Milessays,placingthecandyonthecenterofhistonguebeforechasingit

downwithaswigofVitaminWater."Portland."Damennods.

Mileslaughs."Notaquestion,butokay.WhatImeantwas,ourfriendEverhere,well,shelivedin

Oregon,"hesays,elicitingasharplookfromHaven,who,evenaftermyearlierblunder,stillviewsmeas
thebiggestobstacleinherpathtotruelove,anddoesn'tappreciateanyattentionbeingdirectedmyway.

Damensmiles,hiseyesonmine."Where?"
"Eugene," I mumble, focusing on my sandwich instead of him, because just like in the classroom,

everytimehespeaksit'stheonlysoundIhear.AndeverytimeoureyesmeetIgrowwarm.Andwhenhis
footjustbumpedagainstmine,mywholebodytingled.Andit'sreallystartingtofreakmeout.

"How'dyouenduphere?"Heleanstowardme,promptingHaventoscootevenclosertohim.
Istareatthetable,pressingmylipstogetherinmyusualnervoushabit.Idon'twanttotalkaboutmy

old life. I don't see the point in relaying all the gory details. Of having to explain how even though it's
completelymyfaultthatmyentirefamilydied,Isomehowmanagedtolive.SointheendIjusttearthe

crustfrommysandwich,andsay,"It'salongstory."

IcanfeelDamen'sgaze—heavy,warm,andinviting—anditmakesmesonervousmypalmsstartto

sweatandmywaterbottleslipsfrommygrip.Fallingsofast,Ican'tevenstopit,allIcandoiswaitfor
thesplash.Butbeforeitcanevenhitthetable,Damen'salreadycaughtitandreturnedittome.AndIsit
there,staringatthebottleandavoidinghisgaze,wonderingifI'mtheonlyonewhonoticedhowhemoved
sofastheactuallyblurred.

Then Miles asks about New York, and Haven scoots so close she's practically sitting on Damen's

lap,andItakeadeepbreath,finishmylunch,andconvincemyselfIimaginedit.

Whenthebellfinallyrings,weallgrabourstuffandheadtowardclass,andthesecondDamen'sout

ofearshotIturntomyfriendsandsay,"Howdidheendupatourtable?"ThenIcringeathowmyvoice
soundedsoshrillandaccusing.

"Hewantedtositintheshade,soweofferedhimaspot."Milesshrugs,depositinghisbottleinthe

recyclingbinandleadingustowardthebuilding."Nothingsinister,noevilplottoembarrassyou."

"Well, I could've done without the staring comment," I say, knowing I sound ridiculous and overly

sensitive.I'munwillingtoexpresswhatI'mreallythinking,notwantingtoupsetmyfriendswiththevery
valid,yetunkindquestion:WhyisaguylikeDamenhangingwithus?Seriously.Outofallthekidsinthis
school,outofallthecoolcliqueshecouldjoin,whyonearthwouldhechosetositwithus—thethree
biggestmisfits?

"Relax,hethoughtitwasfunny."Milesshrugs."Besides,he'scomingbyyourhousetonight.Itold

himtostopbyaroundeight."

"Youwhat?"Igapeathim,suddenlyrememberinghowallthroughlunchHavenwasthinkingabout

whatshewasgoingtowear,whileMileswonderedifhehadtimeforaspraytan,andnowitallmakes
sense.

"Well, apparently Damen hates football as much as we do, which we happened to learn during

Haven'slittleQandAthattookplacejustmomentsbeforeyouarrived."Havensmilesandcurtseys,her
fishnet-coveredkneesbowingouttoeitherside.

"Andsincehe'snew,anddoesn'treallyknowanyoneelse,wefiguredwe'dhoghimalltoourselves

andnotgivehimthechancetomakeotherfriends."

"But—" I stop, unsure how to continue. All I know is that I don't want Damen coming over, not

tonight,notever.

"I'llswingbysometimeaftereight,"Havensays."Mymeeting'soverbyseven,whichgivesmejust

enoughtimetogohomeandchange.And,bytheway,IcalldibsonsittingnexttoDamenintheJacuzzi!"

"Youcan'tdothat!"Milessays,shakinghisheadinoutrage.
"Iwon'tallowit!"
Butshejustwavesoverhershoulderassheskipstowardclass,andIturntoMilesandask,"Which

meetingisittoday?"

Heopenstheclassroomdooraridsmiles."Fridayisforovereaters."
Haveniswhatyou'dcallananonymous-groupaddict.IntheshorttimeI'veknownher,she'sattended

twelve-stepmeetingsforalcoholics,narcotics,codependents,debtors,gamblers,cyberaddicts,nicotine
junkies,socialphobic's,packrats,andvulgaritylovers.ThoughasfarasIknow,todayisherfirstonefor
overeaters.Butthenagain,atfivefootonewiththeslim,lithebodyofamusicboxballerina,Havenis
definitelynotanovereater.She'salsonotanalcoholic,adebtor,agambler,oranyofthoseotherthings.
She'sjustterminallyignoredbyherself-involvedparents,whichmakesherseekloveandapprovalfrom
justaboutanywhereshecangetit.

Likewiththewholegoththing.It'snotthatshe'sreallyallthatintoit,whichisprettyobviousbythe

wayshealwaysskipsinsteadofskulks,andhowherJoyDivisionpostershangonthepastelpinkwallsof
hernot-so-long-agoballerinaphase(thatcameshortlyafterherJ.Crewcatalogpreppyphase).

Haven'sjustlearnedthatthequickestwaytostandoutinatownfullofJuicy-cladblondesistodress

likethePrincessofDarkness.Onlyit'snotreallyworkingaswellasshehoped.Thefirsttimehermom
sawherdressedlikethat,shejustsighed,grabbedherkeys,andheadedofftoPilates.Andherdadhasn't
beenhomelongenoughtoreallygetagoodlook.Herlittlebrother,Austin,wasfreaked,butheadjusted
pretty quickly. And since most of the kids at school have grown so used to the outrageous displays of
behaviorbroughtonbythepresenceoflastyear'sMTVcameras,theyusuallyignoreher.

ButIhappentoknowthatbeneathalltheskulls,andspikes,anddeath-rockermakeupisagirlwho

justwantstobeseen,heard,loved,andpaidattentionto—somethingherearlierincarnationshavefailed
to produce. So if standing before a room full of people, creating some sob story about her tormented
strugglewiththatday'sfill-in-the-blankaddictionmakesherfeelimportant,well,whoamItojudge?

InmyoldlifeIdidn'thangwithpeoplelikeMilesandHaven.Iwasn'tconnectedwiththetroubled

kids,ortheweirdkids,orthekidseveryonepickedon.Iwaspartofthepopularcrowd,wheremostofus
werecute,athletic,talented,smart,wealthy,well-liked,oralloftheabove.Iwenttoschooldances,hada
best friend named Rachel (who was also a cheerleader like me), and I even had a boyfriend, Brandon,
whohappenedtobethesixthboyI'deverkissed(thefirstwasLucas,butthatwasonlybecauseofadare
backinsixthgrade,andtrustme,theonesinbetweenarehardlyworthmentioning).AndeventhoughI
wasnevermeantoanyonewhowasn'tpartofourgroup,it'snotlikeIreallynoticedthemeither.Those
kidsjustdidn'thaveanythingtodowithme.AndsoIactedliketheywereinvisible.

Butnow,I'moneoftheunseentoo.IknewitthedayRachelandBrandonvisitedmeinthehospital.

They acted so nice and supportive on the outside, while inside, their thoughts told a whole other story.
Theywerefreakedbythelittleplasticbagsdrippingliquidsintomyveins,mycutsandbruises,mycast
coveredlimbs.Theyfeltbadforwhathappened,forallthatI'dlost,butastheytriednottogapeatthe
jaggedredscaronmyforehead,whattheyreallywantedtodowasrunaway.

AndIwatchedastheiraurasswirledtogether,blendingintothesamedullbrown,knowingtheywere

withdrawingfromme,andmovingclosertoeachother.

SoonmyfirstdayatBayView;insteadofwastingmytimewiththeusualhazingritualsoftheStacia

andHonorcrowd,IheadedstraightforMilesandHaven,thetwooutcastswhoacceptedmyfriendship
withnoquestionsasked.Andeventhoughweprobablylookprettystrangeontheoutside,thetruthis,I
don't know what I'd do without them. Having their friendship is one of the few good things in my life.
Havingtheirfriendshipmakesmefeelalmostnormalagain.

Andthat'sexactlywhyIneedtostayawayfromDamenbecausehisabilitytochargemyskinwith

his touch, and silence the world with his voice is a dangerous temptation I cannot indulge. I won't risk
hurtingmyfriendshipwithHaven.AndIcan'triskgettingtooclose.

ChapterSix

EventhoughDamenandIsharetwoclasses,theonlyonewherewesitnexttoeachotherisEnglish.

So it's not until I've already put away my materials and am heading out of sixth-period art that he
approaches.

Herunsupbesideme,holdingthedoorasIslinkpast,eyesgluedtotheground,wonderinghowI

canpossiblyun-invitehim.

"Yourfriendsaskedmetostopbytonight,"hesays,hisstridematchingmine."ButIwon'tbeableto

makeit."

"Oh!"Isay,caughtcompletelyoffguard,regrettingthewaymyvoicejustbetrayedmebysounding

sohappy."Imean,areyousure?"Itrytosoundsofter,moreaccommodating,likeIreallydowanthimto
visit,eventhoughit'stoolate.

He gazes at me, eyes shiny and amused. "Yah, I'm sure. See you Monday," he says, picking up his

paceandheadingforhiscar,theonethat'sparkedintheredzone,itsengineinexplicablyhumming.

When I reach my Miata, Miles is waiting, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, his annoyance clearly

displayedinhissignaturesmirk."Youbettertellmewhatjusthappenedbackthere,becausethatdidnot
lookgood,"hesays,slidinginasIopenmyside.

"Hecancelled.Saidhecouldn'tmakeit."Ishrug,glancingovermyshoulderasIshiftinreverse.
"Butwhatdidyousaythatmadehimcancel?"Heglaresatme.
"Nothing."
Thesmirkdeepens.
"Seriously, I'm not responsible for wrecking your night." I pull out of the parking lot and onto the

street,butwhenIfeelMilesstillstaringIgo,"What?"

"Nothing."Heliftshisbrowsandstaresoutthewindow,andeventhoughIknowwhathe'sthinking,I

focusondrivinginstead.Sothenofcourseheturnstomeandsays,"Okay,promiseyouwon'tgetmad."

Iclosemyeyesandsigh.Herewego.
"It'sjustthat—Isodon'tgetyou.It'slike,nothingaboutyoumakesanysense."
Itakeadeepbreathandrefusetoreact.Mostlybecauseit'sabouttogetworse.
"For one thing, you're completely knock-down, drag-out gorgeous—at least I think you might be,

becauseit'sreallyhardtotellwhenyou'realwayshidingunderthoseuglystretched-outhoodies.Imean,
sorrytobetheonetosayit,Ever,butthewholeensembleiscompletelytragic,likecamouflageforthe
homeless,andIdon'tthinkweshouldhavetopretendotherwise.Also;Ihatetobetheonetobreakitto
you,butmakingapointtoavoidthecompletelyhotnewguy,whoissoobviouslyintoyou,isjustweird."

Hestopslongenoughtogivemeanencouraginglook,asIbraceforwhat'snext."Unless—ofcourse

—you'regay."

Imakearightturnandexhale,gratefulformypsychicabilitiesforprobablythefirsttimeever,since

itdefinitelyhelpedlessentheblow.

"Becauseit'stotallycoolifyouare,"hecontinues."Imean,obviously,sinceI'mgay,andit'snotlike

I'm gonna discriminate against you, right?" He laughs, a sort of nervous, we're-in-virgin territory-now
kindoflaugh.

ButIjustshakemyheadandhitthebrake.JustbecauseImnotinterestedinDamendoesn'tmeanI'm

gay,"Isay,realizingIsoundedfarmoredefensivethanIintended.

"There's a lot more to attraction than just looks, you know." Like warm tingling touch, deep

smolderingeyes,andtheseductivesoundofavoicethatcansilencetheworld

"IsitbecauseofHaven?"heasks,notbuyingmystory.
"No."Igripthesteeringwheelandglareatthelight,willingittochangefromredtogreensoIcan

dropMilesoffandbedonewithallthis.

ButIknowIansweredtooquicklywhenhegoes,'Ha!Iknewit!ItisbecauseofHaven—because

shecalleddibs.Ican'tbelieveyou'reactuallyhonoringdibs!Imean,doyouevenrealizeyou'regivingup
a chance to lose your virginity to the hottest guy in school, maybe even the planet, all because Haven
calleddibs?"

"Thisisridiculous,"Imumble,shakingmyheadasIturnontohisstreet,pullintohisdriveway,and

park.

"What?You'renotavirgin?"Hesmiles,obviouslyhavingawonderfultimewithallthis."Youbeen

holdingoutonme?"

Irollmyeyesandlaughinspiteofmyself.Helooksatmeforamoment,thengrabshisbooksand

headsforhishouse,turningbacklongenoughtosay,"IhopeHavenappreciateswhatagoodfriendyou
are."

Asitturnsout,Fridaynightwascancelled.Well,notthenight,justourplans.PartlybecauseHaven's

little brother, Austin, got sick and she was the only one around to take care of him, and partly because
Miles'ssports-lovingdaddraggedhimtoafootballgameandforcedhimtoweartheteamcolorsandact
likehecared.AndassoonasSabinelearnedI'dbehomebymyself,sheleftworkearlyandofferedto
takemetodinner.

Knowingshedoesn'tapproveofmyfondnessforhoodiesandjeans,andwantingtopleaseherafter

everythingshe'sdone,Isliponthisprettybluedresssherecentlyboughtme,slidemyfeetintotheheels
shegottogowithit,slickonsomelipgloss(arelicfrommyoldlifewhenIcaredaboutthingslikethat),
transfermyessentialsfrommybackpacktothelittlemetallicclutchthatgoeswiththedress,andtrademy
usualponytailforloosewaves.

AndjustasI'mabouttowalkoutthedoor,Rileypopsupbehindmeandsays,"It'sabouttimeyou

starteddressinglikeagirl."

AndInearlyjumpoutofmyskin.
"Omigod,youscaredtheheckoutofme!"Iwhisper,shuttingthedoorsoSabinecan'thear.
"Iknow."Shelaughs."Sowhereyougoing?"
"SomerestaurantcalledStonehillTavern.It'sintheSt.Regishotel,"Isay,myheartstillracingfrom

theambush.

Sheraisesherbrowsandnods."Chichi."
"Howwouldyouknow?"Ipeerather,wonderingifshe'sbeen.Imean,it'snotlikesheevertellsme

whereshespendsherfreetime.

"Iknowlotsofthings."Shelaughs."Waymorethanyou."Shejumpsontomybedandrearrangesthe

pillowsbeforesheleansback.

"Yeah,well,notmuchIcandoaboutthat,huh?"Isay,annoyedtoseehowshe'swearingtheexact

samedressandshoesasIam.Onlysinceshe'sfouryearsyoungerandquiteabitshorter,shelookslike
she'splayingdress-up.

"Seriouslythough,youshoulddresslikethatmoreoften.BecauseIhatetosayit,butyourusuallook

is so not working for you. I mean, you think Brandon ever would've gone for you if you'd dressed like
that?"Shecrossesheranklesandgazesatme,herpostureasrelaxedasaperson,livingordead,could
everbe.

"Speakingof,didyouknowhe'sdatingRachelnow?Yep,they'vebeentogetherfivemonths.That's

like,evenlongerthanyouguys,huh?"

Ipressmylipsandtapmyfootagainstthefloor,repeatingmyusualmantra:Don'tlethergettoyou.

Don'tlether.

"Andomigod,you'renevergonnabelievethisbuttheyalmostwentalltheway!Seriously,theyleft

thehomecomingdanceearly,theyhaditallplannedout,butthen—well..."

Shepauseslongenoughtolaugh.
"IknowIprobablyshouldn'trepeatthis,butlet'sjustsaythatBrandondidsomethingveryregrettable

andextremelyembarrassingthatturnedouttobeamajormoodbreaker.Youprobablyhadtobethere,but
I'm telling you, it was hilarious. I mean, don't get me wrong, he misses you and all, even accidentally
calledherbyyournameonceortwice,butastheysay,lifegoeson,right?"

Itakeadeepbreathandnarrowmyeyes,watchingassheloungesonmybedlikeCleopatraonher

litter, critiquing my life, my look, virtually everything about me, giving me updates on former friends I
neverevenaskedfor,likesomekindofprepubescentauthority.

Mustbenicetojustdropinwheneveryoufeellikeit,tonothavetogetdownhereinthetrenches

anddoallthedirtyworkliketherestofus!

And suddenly I feel so annoyed with her little pop-in visits that are really just glorified sneak

attacks,wishingshe'djustleavemempeaceandletmelivewhatever'sleftofmycrummylifewithouther
constantstreamofbrattycommentary;thatIlookherrightintheeyeandsay,"Sowhenareyouscheduled
forangelschool?Orhavetheybannedyoubecauseyou'resoevil?"

She glares at me, her eyes squeezing into angry little slits as Sabine taps on my door and calls,

"Ready?"

IstareatRiley,daringherwithmyeyestodosomethingstupid,somethingthatwillalertSabineto

allthetrulystrangegoingsonaroundhere.Butshejustsmilessweetlyandsays,"MomandDadsendtheir
love,"secondsbeforedisappearing.

ChapterSeven

OntheridetotherestaurantallIcanthinkaboutisRileyhersnideremark,andhowcompletelyrude

it was to just let it slip and then disappear. I mean, I've been begging her to tell me about our parents,
pleading for just one smidgen of info this whole entire time. But instead of filling me in and telling me
whatIneedtoknow;shegetsallfidgety,actsallcagey;andrefusestoexplainwhythey'veyettoappear.
You'dthinkbeingdeadwouldmakeapersonactalittlenicer,alittlekinder.ButnotRiley.She'sjustas
bratty;spoiled,andawfulasshewaswhenshewasalive.

Sabineleavesthecarwiththevaletandweheadinside.AndthemomentIseethehugemarblefoyer,

the outsized flower arrangements, and the amazing ocean view, I regret everything I just thought. Riley
wasright.Thisplacereallyischichi.Big-time,majorchichi.Likethekindofplaceyoubringadate—
andnotyoursullenniece.

The hostess leads us to a cloth-covered table adorned with flickering candles and salt and pepper

shakersthatresemblesmallsilverstones,andwhenItakemyseatandgazearoundtheroom,Icanhardly
believehowglamorousitis.EspeciallycomparedtothekindofrestaurantsI'musedto.

But just as soon as I think it, I make myself stop. There's no use examining the before and after

photos,ofreviewingthehowthingsusedtobeclipstoredinmybrain.Thoughsometimesbeingaround
Sabinemakesithardnottocompare.Herbeingmydad'stwinislikeaconstantreminder.

Sheordersredwineforherselfandasodaforme,thenwelookoverourmenusanddecideonour

meals.Andthemomentourwaitressisgone,Sabinetucksherchin-lengthblondhairbackbehindherear,
smilespolitely,andsays,

"So,how'severything?School?Yourfriends?Allgood?"
Ilovemyaunt,don'tgetmewrong,andI'mgratefulforeverythingthatshe'sdone.Butjustbecause

shecanhandleatwelvemanjurydoesn'tmeanshe'sanygoodatthesmalltalk.

Still,Ijustlookatherandsay,"Yep,it'sallgood."Okay,maybeIsuckatthesmalltalktoo.
Sheplacesherhandonmyarmtosaysomethingmore,butbeforeshecanevengettothewords,I'm

alreadyupandoutofmyseat.

"I'llberightback,"Imumble,nearlyknockingovermychairasIdartbackthewaywecame,not

botheringtostopfordirectionssincethewaitressIjustbrushedagainsttookonelookatmeanddoubted
I'dmakeitoutthedooranddownthelonghallwayintime.

I head in the direction she unknowingly sent me, passing through a hall of mirrors—gigantic gilt-

framedmirrors,alllinedupinarow.Andsinceit'sFriday,thehotelisfilledwithguestsforawedding
that,fromwhatIcansee,shouldnevertakeplace.Agroupofpeoplebrushpastme,theiraurasswirling

withalcohol-fueledenergythat'ssooutofwhackit'saffectingmetoo,leavingmedizzy,nauseous,andso
light-headedthatwhenIglanceinthemirrors,IseealongchainofDamensstaringrightback.

Istumbleintothebathroom,gripthemarblecounter,andfighttocatchmybreath.Forcingmyselfto

focusonthepottedorchids,thescentedlotions,andthestackofplushtowelsrestingonalargeporcelain
tray, I begin to feel calmer, more centered, contained. I guess I've grown so used to all of the random
energyIencounterwhereverIgo,I'veforgottenhowoverwhelmingitcanbewhenmydefensesaredown
andmyiPod'sathome.ButthejoltIreceivedwhenSabineplacedherhandonminewasfilledwithsuch
overwhelmingloneliness,suchquietsadness,itfeltlikeapunchinthegut.EspeciallywhenIrealizedI
wastoblame.

SabineislonelyinawayI'vetriedtoignore.Becauseeventhoughwelivetogetherit'snotlikewe

seeeachotherallthatoften.She'susuallyatwork,I'musuallyatschool,andnightsandweekendsIspend
holed up in my room, or out with my friends. I guess I sometimes forget that I'm not the only one with
peopletomiss,thateventhoughshe'stakenmeinandtriedtohelp,shestillfeelsjustasaloneandempty
asthedayitallhappened.

ButasmuchasI'dliketoreachout,asmuchasI'dliketoeaseherpain,Ijustcan't.I'mtoodamaged,

tooweird.I'mafreakwhohearsthoughtsandtalkstothedead.AndIcan'triskgettingfoundout,can't
riskgettingtooclose,toanyone,notevenher.ThebestIcandoisjustgetthroughhighschool,soIcango
awaytocollege,andshecangetbacktoherlife.Maybethenshecangettogetherwiththatguywhoworks
in her building. The one she doesn't even know yet. The one whose face I saw the moment her hand
touchedmine.

Irunmyhandsthroughmyhair,reapplysomelipgloss,andheadbacktothetable,determinedtotry

alittleharderandmakeherfeelbetter,allwithoutriskingmysecrets.AndasIslipbackontomyseat,I
sipfrommydrink,andsmilewhenIsay,"I'mfine.Really."

Noddingsothatshe'llbelieveit,beforeadding,"Sotellme,anyinterestingcasesatwork?Anycute

guysinthebuilding?"

Afterdinner,IwaitoutsidewhileSabinegetsinlinetopaythevalet.AndI'msocaughtupinthe

drama unfolding before me, between tomorrow's bride-to-be and her so called maid of "honor," that I
actuallyjumpwhenIfeelahandonmysleeve.

"Oh,hey,"Isay,mybodyfloodingwithheatandtinglingthesecondmyeyesmeethis.
"Youlookamazing,"Damensays,hisgazetravelingallthewaydownmydresstomyshoes,before

workingtheirwaybacktomine.

"Ialmostdidn'trecognizeyouwithoutthehood."Hesmiles.
"Didyouenjoyyourdinner?"
Inod,feelingsoonedgeI'mamazedIcouldevendothat.
"I saw you in the hall. I would've said hello, but you seemed in such a rush." I gaze at him,

wonderingwhathe'sdoinghere,allalone,atthisswankyhotelonaFridaynight.Dressedinadarkwool
blazer,ablackopen-neckshirt,designerjeans,andthoseboots—anoutfitthatseemsfartooslickfora
guyhisage,yetsomehowlooksjustright.

"Out-of-townvisitor,"hesays,answeringthequestionIhadn'tyetasked.AndjustasI'mwondering

whattosaynext,Sabineappears.Andwhilethey'reshakinghandsIsay,"Um,DamenandIgotoschool
together."Damen'stheonewhomakesmypalmssweat,mystomachspin,andhe'sprettymuchallIcan
thinkabout!"HejustmovedherefromNewMexico,"Iadd,hopingthat'llsufficeuntilthecararrives.

"WhereinNewMexico?"Sabineasks.AndwhenshesmilesIcan'thelpbutwonderifshe'sflooded

withthatsamewonderfulfeelingasme.

"SantaFe."Hesmiles.

"Oh,Ihearit'slovely.I'vealwayswantedtogothere."
"Sabine's an attorney, she works a lot," I mumble, focusing in the direction that the car will be

comingfrominjustten,nine,eight,seven...

"We'reheadedbackhome,butyou'remorethanwelcometojoinus,"sheoffers.
Igapeather,panicked,wonderinghowIfailedtoseethatcoming.ThenIglanceatDamen,praying

he'lldeclineashesays,"Thanks,butIhavetoheadback"Hehookshisthumboverhisshoulder,andmy
eyesfollowinthatdirection,stoppingonanincrediblygorgeousredhead,dressedintheslinkiestblack
dressandstrappyhighheels.

Shesmilesatme,butit'snotatallkind.Justpinkglossylipsslightlyliftingandcurving,whileher

eyes are too far, too distant to read. Though there's something about her expression, the tilt of her chin,
that'ssovisiblymocking,asthoughthesightofusstandingtogethercouldbenothingshortofamusing.

Iturnbacktofacehim,startledtofindhimloomingsoclose,hislipsmoistandparted,mereinches

frommine.Thenhebrusheshisfingersalongthesideofmycheek,andretrievesaredtulipfrombehind
myear.ThenthenextthingIknow,I'mstandingaloneasheheadsbackinsidewithhisdate.AndIgazeat
the tulip, touching its waxy red petals, wondering where it could've possibly come fromespecially two
seasonspastspring.Thoughit'snotuntillater,whenI'maloneinmyroom,thatIrealizetheredheadwas
auralesstoo.

Imust'vebeeninareallydeepsleepbecausethemomentIhearsomeonemovingaroundinmyroom,

myheadfeelssogroggyandmurkyIdon'tevenopenmyeyes."Riley?"Imumble."Isthatyou?"Butwhen
shedoesn'tanswer,Iknowshe'suptoherusualpranks.AndsinceI'mtootiredtoplay,Igrabmyother
pillowandplopitovermyhead.

ButwhenIhearheragain,Isay,"ListenRiley,I'mexhausted,okay?I'msorryifIwasmeantoyou,

andI'msorryifIupsetyou,butIreallydon'tfeellikedoingthisnowat—"Iliftthepillowandopenone
eye to peer at my alarm clock. 'At three forty-five in the morning. So why don't you just go back to
whereveritisthatyougoandsaveitforanormalhour,okay?Youcanevenshowupin,thatdressIwore
totheeighthgradegraduationandIwon'tsayaword,scout'shonor."

Only,thethingis,nowthatI'vesaidallofthat,I'mawake.SoItossthepillowasideandglareather

shadowyformloungingonthechairbymydesk,wonderingwhatcouldpossiblybesoimportantitcan't
keepuntilmorning.

"IsaidI'msorry,okay?Whatmoredoyouwant?"
"Youcanseeme?"sheasks,pushingawayfromthedesk.
"OfcourseIcansee—"ThenIstopinmidsentencewhenIrealizethevoiceisn'thers.

ChapterEight

Iseedeadpeople.Allthetime.Onthestreet,atthebeach,inthemalls,inrestaurants,wanderingthe

hallwaysatschool,standinginlineatthepostoffice,waitinginthedoctor'soffice,thoughneveratthe
dentist.ButunliketheghostsyouseeonTVandinmovies,theydon'tbotherme,theydon'twantmyhelp,
theydon'tstopandchat.Themosttheyeverdoissmileandwavewhentheyrealizethey'vebeenseen.
Likemostpeople,theylikebeingseen.Butthevoiceinmyroomdefinitelywasn'taghost.Italsowasn't
Riley.ThevoiceinmyroombelongedtoDamen.Andthat'showIknowIwasdreaming.

"Hey." He smiles, slipping into his seat seconds after the bell rings, but since this is Mr. Robins'

classit'sthesameasbeingearly.

Inod,hopingtoappearcasual,neutral,nottheleastbitinterested.HopingtohidethefactthatI'mso

fargoneI'mnowdreamingofhim.

"Your aunt seems nice." He looks at me, tapping the end of his pen on his desk, making this

continuousclick,click,clicksoundthatreallysetsmeonedge.

"Yeah, she's great," I mumble, mentally cursing Mr. Robins for lingering in the faculty bathroom,

wishinghe'djuststowtheflaskandcomedohisjobalready.

"Idon'tlivewithmyfamilyeither,"Damensays,hisvoicequietingtheroom,quietingmythoughts,

ashespinsthepenonthetipofhisfinger,twirlingitaroundandaroundwithoutfaltering.

IpressmylipstogetherandfumblewiththeiPodinmysecretcompartment,wonderinghowrudeit

wouldseemifIturneditonandblockedhimouttoo.

"I'memancipated,"headds.
"Seriously?"Iask,eventhoughIwasfirmlycommittedtokeepingourconversationstoanabsolute

minimum.It'sjust,I'venevermetanyonewhowasemancipated,andIalwaysthoughtitsoundedsolonely
andsad.Thoughfromthelooksofhiscar,hisclothes,andhisglamorousFridaynightsattheSt.Regis
hotel,hedoesn'tseemtobedoingsobadly.

"Seriously."Henods.AndthemomenthestopstalkingIheartheheightenedwhispersofStaciaand

Honor,callingmeafreak,andafewotherthingsmuchworsethanthat.ThenIwatchashetosseshispen
intheair,smilingasitformsaseriesofslowlazyeightsbeforelandingrightbackonhisfinger.

"Sowhere'syourfamily?"heasks.
Andit'ssoweirdhowallthenoisejuststopsandstarts,startsandstops,likesomemessedupgame

ofmusicalchairs.OnewhereI'malwaysleftstanding.OnewhereI'malwaysit.

"What?"Isquint,distractedbythesightofDamen'smagicpennowhoveringbetweenus,asHonor

makesfunofmyclothes,andherboyfriendpretendstoagreeeventhoughhe'ssecretlywonderingwhyshe

never dresses like me. And it makes me want to lift my hood, crank my iPod, and drown it all out.
Everything.IncludingDamen.EspeciallyDamen.

"Wheredoesyourfamilylive?"heasks.
Iclosemyeyeswhenhespeaks—silence,sweetsilence,forthosefleetingfewseconds.ThenIopen

themagainandgazerightintohis.

"They'redead,"Isay,asMr.Robinswalksin.
"I'msorry."
Damen gazes at me from across the lunch table as I scan the area, eager for Haven and Miles to

show.Ijustopenedmylunchpacktofindasingleredtuliplyingsmackbetweenmysandwichandchips
—a tulip! Just like the one from Friday night. And even though I've no idea how he did it, I'm sure
Damen's responsible. But it's not so much the strange magic tricks that bother me, it's more the way he
looksatme,thewayhespeakstome,thewayhemakesmefeel

"Aboutyourfamily.Ididn'trealize..."
Igazedownatmyjuice,twistingthecapbackandforth,forthandback,wishinghe'djustletitgo."I

don'tliketotalkaboutit."Ishrug.

"I know what it's like to lose the people you love," he whispers, reaching across the table and

placinghishandovermine,infusingmewithafeelingsogood,sowarm,socalm,andsosafe—Iclose
myeyesandallowit.Allowmyselftoenjoythepeaceofit.Gratefultohearwhathesaysandnotwhathe
thinks.Likeanaveragegirl—withamuchbetterthanaverageboy.

"Um,excuseme."IopenmyeyestofindHavenleaningagainsttheedgeofthetable,heryelloweyes

narrowedandfixedonourhands."Sosorrytointerrupt."

I pull away, shoving my hand in my pocket like it's something shameful, something no one should

havetosee.Wantingtoexplainhowwhatshesawwasnothing,howitmeantnothing,eventhoughIknow
better."Where'sMiles?"Ifinallysay,notknowingwhatelsetosay.

She rolls her eyes and sits beside Damen, her hostile thoughts transforming her aura from bright

yellowtoaverydarkred.

"Miles is texting his latest Internet crush, hornyyoungdingdong307," she says, avoiding my eyes as

she as she busies herself with her cupcake. Then gazing at Damen, she adds, "So, how was everyone's
weekend?"

Ishrug,knowingshewasn'treallyaddressingme,watchingasshetapsthefrostingwiththetipofher

tongue, performing her usual test lick, even though I've yet to see her reject one. And when I glance at
Damen, I'm shocked to see him shrug too, because from what I saw, he was poised for a much better
weekendthanme.

"Well,asyoucanprobablyguess,myFridaynightsucked.Big-time.Ispentmostofitcleaningup

Austin's vomit, since the housekeeper was in Vegas and my parents couldn't be bothered to come home
fromwhereverthehelltheywere.ButSaturdaytotallymadeupforit.Imean,itrocked!Like,seriously,it
wasprobablythebestnightofmyentirelife.AndItotallywould'veinvitedyouguysifithadn'tbeenso
lastminute."Shenods,deigningtolookatmeagain.

"Where'dyougo?"Iask,tryingtosoundcasualeventhoughIjustenvisionedadarkscaryplace.
"Thistotallyawesomeclubthatsomegirlfrommygrouptookmeto."
"Whichgroup?"Isipfrommywater.
"Saturday is for codependents." She smiles. "Anyway, this girl, Evangeline? She's like a hardcore

case.She'swhattheycalladonor."

"Whatwhocallsadonor?"Milesasks,placinghisSidekickonthetableandsittingdownbesideme.
"Thecodependents,"Isay,bringinghimuptospeed.

Havenrollshereyes."No,notthem,thevampires.Adonorisapersonwhoallowsothervampsto

feedoffthem.Youknow,likesucktheirbloodandstuff,whereasI'mwhattheycallapuppy,becauseI
justliketofollowthemaround.Idon'tletanyonefeed.Well,notyet."Shelaughs.

"Followwhoaround?"Milesasks,liftinghisSidekickandflippingthroughhismessages.
"Vampires! jeez, try to keep up. Anyway, what I was saying is this codependent donor chick,

Evangeline,which,bytheway,ishervampirename,notherrealname—"

"Peoplehavevampirenames?"Milesasks,settinghisphoneonthetablewherehecanstillpeekat

it.

"Totally."Shenods,pokingherfingerdeepintothefrosting,thenlickingthetip.
"Isthatlikeastrippername?Youknow,likeyourfirstchildhoodpetplusyourmom'smaidenname?

BecausethatmakesmePrincessSlavin,thankyouverymuch."Hesmiles.

Havensighs,strivingforpatience."Uh,no.It'snothinglikethat.Yousee,avampirenameisserious.

Andunlikemostpeople,Idon'tevenhavetochangemine,becauseHavenislikeanorganicvampname,
onehundredpercentnatural,noadditivesorpreservatives."Shelaughs."ItoldyouI'madarkprincess!
Anyway,wewenttothisreallycoolclubsomewhereupinL.A.calledNocturnal,orsomethinglikethat."

"Nocturne,"Damensays,grippinghisdrinkashiseyesfocusonhers.
Havensetsdownhercupcakeandclaps."Yay!Finally,someonecoolatthistable,"shesays.
"Anddidyourunintoanyimmortals?"heasks,stillgazingather.
"Tons!Theplacewaspacked.TherewasevenaVIPcovenroom,whichItotallysnuckintoandhung

outatthebloodbar."

"Did they card you?" Miles asks, his fingers racing over his Sidekick as he partakes in two

conversationsatonce.

"Laughallyouwant,butI'mtellingyouitwaswaycool.EvenafterEvangelinesortofditchedme

forsomeguyshemet,Iendedupmeetingthisothergirl,whowasevencooler,andwhoalso,bytheway,
justmovedhere.Sowe'llprobablystarthangingoutandstuff."

"Areyoubreakingupwithus?"Milesgapesatherinmockalarm.
Haven rolls her eyes. "Whatever. All I know is that it was better than your guys' Saturday night—

well, maybe not yours, Damen, since you seem to be up on these things, but definitely those two," she
says,pointingatMilesandme.

"So how was the game?" I elbow Miles, trying to get his attention back on us and away from his

electronicboyfriend.

''AllIknowistherewaswaytoomuchteamspirit,somebodywon,somebodylost,andIspentmost

of it in the bathroom text messaging this guy who's apparently a big fat liar!" He shakes his head and
showsusthescreen.

"Look,rightthere!"Hestabsitwithhisfinger."I'vebeenaskingforapictureallweekendbecause

nowayamImeetingupwithoutgettingasolidvisual.Andthisiswhathesends.Stupidphonyposer!"

Isquintatthethumbnail,notquitegettingwhathe'ssoangryabout."Howdoyouknowit'snothim?"

Iask,glancingatMiles.

AndthenDamensays,"Becauseit'sme."

ChapterNine

Apparently Damen modeled for a short time, back when he lived in New York, which is why his

imageisoutthere,floatingaroundcyberspace,justwaitingforsomeonetodownloadandclaimthatit's
them.

Andeventhoughwepasseditaroundandhadagoodsolidlaughatthewholeweirdcoincidence,

there's still one thing I can't quite get past: If Damen just moved here from New Mexico and not New
York, well, doesn't it seem like he should've looked a little bit younger in that picture? Because I can't
thinkofanyonewholooksexactlythesameatseventeenastheydidatfourteen,orevenfifteen,andyet,
thatthumbnailonMiles'sSidekickshowedDamenlookingexactlythesameashedoesrightnow.Andit
justdoesn'tmakeanysense.

WhenIgettoart,Ibeelineforthesupplycloset,graballmystuff,andheadformyeasel,refusingto

react when I notice how Damen is set up right next to mine. I just take a deep breath and go about the
business of buttoning my smock and selecting a brush, stealing the occasional glance at his canvas and
trying not to gawk at his masterpiece in the making—a seriously perfect rendition of Picasso's Woman
withYellowHair.

Ourassignment is toemulate one ofthe great masters, tochoose one ofthose iconic paintings and

attempt to recreate it. And somehow I got the idea that those simple Van Gogh swirls would be a sure
thing, a cinch to reproduce, an easy A. But from the looks of my chaotic, hectic strokes, I completely
misjudgedit.Andnowit'ssofargone,Ican'tpossiblysaveit.AndI'venoideawhattodo.

Ever since I became psychic, I'm no longer required to study. I'm not even required to read. All I

havetodoisplacemyhandsonabook,andthestoryappearsinmyhead.Andasfarastestsgo?Well,
let'sjustsaythere'snomore"pop"inthequiz.Ijustbrushmyfingersoverthequestionsandtheanswers
are instantly revealed. But art is totally different. Because talent cannot be faked. Which is why my
paintingisprettymuchtheexactoppositeofDamen's.

"Starry Night?" Damen asks, nodding at my drippy, pathetic, blue mottled canvas, as I cringe in

embarrassment, wondering how he could've made such an accurate guess from such a poorly realized
mess.Thenjusttotorturemyselfevenfurther,Itakeanotherglanceathiseffortless,curvingbrushstrokes,
andaddittothenever-endinglistofthingshe'samazinglygoodat.

Seriously,likeinEnglish,hecananswerallofMr.Robinsquestions,whichiskindofweirdsince

heonlyhadonenighttoskimallthreehundredandsomeoddpagesofWutheringHeights.Nottomention
howheusuallygoesontoincludeallmannerofrandomhistoricalfacts,talkingaboutthoselong-agodays
as though he was actually there. He's ambidextrous too, which might not sound like all that big a deal,

untilyouwatchhimwritewithonehandandpaintwiththeother,withneitherprojectseemingtosuffer.
Anddon'tevengetmestartedonthespontaneoustulipsandmagicpen.

"Just like Pablo himself. Wonderful!" Ms. Machado says, smoothing her long glossy braid as she

stares at his canvas, her aura vibrating a beautiful cobalt blue, as her mind performs cartwheels and
somersaults,jumpinginglee,racingthroughhermentalrosteroftalentedformerstudents,realizingshe's
neverhadonewithsuchinnate,naturalability—untilnow;

"And Ever?" On the outside she's still smiling, but inside she's thinking: What on earth could it

possiblybe?

"Oh, um, it's supposed to be Van Gogh. You know, Starry Night?" I cringe in shame, my worst

suspicionsconfirmedbyherthoughts.

"Well—it'sanhonorablestart."Shenods,strugglingtokeepherfaceneutral,relaxed.'VanGogh's

styleismuchmoredifficultthanitseems.Justdon'tforgetthegolds,andtheyellows!Itisastarry,starry
nightafterall!"

I watch her walk away, her aura expanding and glowing, knowing she dislikes my painting, but

appreciatingherefforttohideit.Thenwithouteventhinking,Idipmybrushinyellow,beforewipingoff
theblue,andwhenIpressittomycanvasitleavesabigblobofgreen.

"How do you do it?" I ask, shaking my head in frustration, gazing from Damen's amazingly good

paintingtomyamazinglybadone,comparing,contrasting,andfeelingmyconfidenceplummet.

Hesmiles,hiseyesfindingmine."WhodoyouthinktaughtPicasso?"hesays.
I drop my brush to the floor, sending mushy globs of green paint splattering across my shoes, my

smock,andmyface,holdingmybreathasheleansdowntoretrieveit,beforeplacingitbackinmyhand.

"Everyone has to start somewhere," he says, his eyes dark and smoldering, his fingers seeking the

scaronmyface.Theoneonmyforehead.Theonethat'shiddenundermybangs.Theonehehasnowayof
knowingabout."EvenPicassohadateacher."Hesmiles,withdrawinghishandandthewarmththatcame
withit,returningtohispainting,asIremindmyselftobreathe.

ChapterTen

The next morning as I'm getting ready for school, I make the mistake of asking Riley's help in

choosingasweatshirt.

"Whatdoyouthink?"Iholdupablueone,beforereplacingitwithagreen.
"Dothepinkoneagain,"shesays,perchedonmydresser,headcockedtothesideassheconsiders

theoptions.

"There is no pink one." I scowl, wishing she could just be serious for a change, stop making

everythingintosuchabiggame."Comeon,helpmeout,clock'sticking."

Sherubsherchinandsquints."Wouldyousaythat'smoreofaceruleanblueoracornflowerblue?"
"That'sit."Itosstheblueoneandstartyankingthegreenovermyhead.
"Go with the blue." I stop, eyes visible, nose, mouth, and chin sheltered in fleece. "Seriously. It

brings out your eyes." I squint at her for a moment, then I toss the green one and do as she says.
Rummagingforlipglossandstoppingjustshortofapplyingitwhenshegoes,"Okay,whatgives?Imean,
thesweatshirtcrises,thesweatypalms,themakeup,what'sgoingon?"

"I'mnotwearingmakeup,"Isay,cringingasmyvoicenearsashout.
"Nottofaultyouonatechnicality,Ever,butlipglosscounts.Itdefinitelyqualifiesasmakeup.And

you,dearsister,werejustabouttoapplyit."

IdropitbackinthedrawerandreachformyusualChapstickinstead,smearingitacrossmylipsina

waxydullline.

"Urn,hello?Stillwaitingforanansweroverhere!"
Ipressmylips,headingoutthedooranddownthestairs.
"Fine,playthatway.Butdon'tthinkyoucanstopmefromguessing,"shesays,trailingbehindme.
"Whatever,"Imumble,goingintothegarage.
"Well, we know it's not Miles, since you're not really his type, and we know it's not Haven since

she'snotreallyyourtype,whichleavesmewith—"Sheslipsrightthroughtheclosedandlockedcardoor
and onto the front seat while I try not to cringe. "Well, I guess that's pretty much it for your circle of
friends,sotellme,Igiveup."

Iopenthegaragedoorandclimbinmycartheoldfashionedway,thenrevuptheenginetodrownout

hervoice.

"Iknowyou'reuptosomething,"shesays,talkingovertheroar."Becauseexcusemeforsayingso,

butyou'reactingjustlikeyoudidrightbeforeyouhookedupwithBrandon.Rememberhownervousand
paranoidyouwere?Wonderingifhelikedyouback,andbippidy-blahblah.Socomeon,tellme.Who's

theunluckyguy?Who'syournextvictim?"

Andthesecondshesaysthat,animageofDamenflashesbeforeme,lookingsogorgeous,sosexy,so

smoldering,sopalpable,I'mtemptedtoreachoutandclaimit.ButinsteadIjustclearmythroat,shiftinto
reverse,andsay,"Noone.Idon'tlikeanyone.Buttrustme,that'sthelasttimeI'lleveraskyoutohelp."

BythetimeIgettoEnglish,I'masgiddy,nervous,sweatypalmed,andanxiousasRileyaccusedme

ofbeing.ButwhenIseeDamentalkingtoStacia,Iaddparanoidtothealreadylonglist.

"Um,excuseme,"Isay,blockedbyDamen'sgloriouslylonglegs,whicharetakingtheplaceofher

usual booby trap. But he just ignores me and remains perched on her desk, and I watch as he reaches
behindherear,andcomesawaywitharosebud.Asinglewhiterosebud.Afresh,pure,glistening,dewy,
whiterosebud.Andwhenhehandsittoher,shesquealssoloudyou'dthinkhejustgaveheradiamond.

"Oh-my-gawd!Noway!How'dyoudothat?"Sheshrieks,wavingitaroundsoeveryonecansee.
Ipressmylipsandgazedownattheground,fiddlingwithmyiPodandcrankingthesounduntilIcan

nolongerhearher.

"Ineedtogetby,"Imumble,myeyesmeetingDamen's,catchingthebriefestflashofwarmthbefore

hisgazeturnstoiceandhemovesoutofmyway.

I storm toward my desk, my feet moving like they're supposed to, one in front of the other, like a

zombie,arobot,somedensenumbthingjustgoingthroughitspreprogrammedmotions,unabletothinkon
its own. Then I settle onto my chair and continue the routine, retrieving paper, books, and a pen,
pretending I don't notice how reluctant Damen is, how he drags his feet when Mr. Robins makes him
returntohisseat.

"WhattheFug?"Havensays,movingherbangstothesideandstaringstraightahead,herprofanity

bantheonlyNewYear'sresolutionshe'severbeenabletokeep,butonlybecauseshethinksJugisfunny.

"Iknewitwouldn'tlast."MilesshakeshisheadandgazesatDamen,watchinghimwowtheA-list

withhisnaturalcharm,magicpen,andstupidfuggingrosebuds.

"Iknewitwastoogoodtobetrue.Infact,Isaidexactlythattheveryfirstday.RememberwhenI

saidthat?"

"No,"Havenmumbles,stillstaringatDamen."Idon'trememberthatatall."
"Well,Idid."MilesswigshisVitaminWater,andnods."Isaidit.Youjustdidn'thearme."
I gaze down at my sandwich and shrug, not wanting to get into the whole "who said what when"

debate,anddefinitelynotwillingtolookanywherenearDamen,Stacia,oranyoneelseatthattable.I'm
still reeling from English, when Damen leaned toward me, right in the middle of roll call, so he could
passmeanote.ButonlysoIcouldpassittoStacia.

"Pass it yourself," I'd said, refusing to touch it. Wondering how a single piece of notebook paper,

foldedintoatriangle,couldpossiblycausesomuchpain.

"Comeon,"hesaid,flickingittowardmesoitlandedjustshyofmyfingers."Ipromiseyouwon't

getcaught."

"It'snotaboutgettingcaught."Iglaredathim."Thenwhatisitabout?"heasked,darkeyesonmine.
It'saboutnotwantingtotouchit!Notwantingtoknowwhatitsays!Becausethemomentmyfingers

make contact, I'll see the words in my head—the whole, sexy, adorable, flirty, unfiltered message. And
eventhoughit'llbebadenoughtohearitinherthoughts,atleastthenIcanpretendthatit'scompromised,
dilutedbyherdimwittedbrain.ButifItouchthatpieceofpaper,thenI'llknowthewordsaretrueandI
justcan'tbeartoseethem.

"Passityourself,"Ifinallysaid,tappingitwiththetipofmypencilandsendingitofftheedgeofmy

desk.Hatingthewaymyheartslammedagainstmychestashelaughedandbentdowntoretrieveit.

Hatingmyselfforthefloodofreliefwhenhesliditintohispocketinsteadofpassingittoher.

"Um,hello,earthtoEver!"
IshakemyheadandsquintatMiles.
"Iaskedwhathappened?Imean,nottopointfingersoranything,butyouarethelastonewhosaw

himtoday..."

IgazeatMiles,wishingIknew:Rememberingyesterdayinart,thewayDamen'seyessoughtmine,

the way his touch warmed my skin, so sure we'd shared something personal—magical even. But then I
remember the girl before Stacia, the gorgeous haughty redhead at the St. Regis, the one I conveniently
managed to forget. And I feel like a fool, for being so naive, for thinking he just might've liked me.
Becausethetruthis,that'sjustDamen.He'saplayer.Andhedoesthisallthetime.

Igazeacrossthelunchtables,justintimetoseeDamencompileanentirebouquetofwhiterosebuds

fromStacia'sear,sleeve,cleavage,andpurse.ThenIpressmylipsandavertmygaze,sparingmyselfthe
gratuitoushugthatsoonfollows.

"I didn't do anything," I finally say, as confused by Damen's erratic behavior as Miles and Haven,

onlyfarlesswillingtoadmitit.

IcanhearMiles'sthoughts,weighingmywords,tryingtodecideifheshouldbelieveme.Thenhe

sighsandsays,"Doyoufeelasdejected,jilted,andheartbrokenasme?"

I look at him, wanting to confide, wishing I could tell him everything, the whole sordid jumble of

feelings. How just yesterday I was sure something significant had passed between us, only to wake up
todayandbepresentedwiththis.ButinsteadIjustshakemyhead,gathermythings,andheadofftoclass,
longbeforethebellevenrings.

Allthroughfifth-periodFrench,Ithinkofwaystogetoutofart.Seriously.EvenasI'mparticipating

in the usual drills, lips moving, foreign words forming, my mind is completely obsessed with faking a
stomachache,nausea,fever,adizzyspell,theflu,whatever.Anyexcusewilldo.

Andit'snotjustbecauseofDamen.Becausethetruthis,Idon'tevenknowwhyIsignedupforthat

classinthefirstplace.Ihavenoartisticability,myproject'samess,andit'snotlikeI'mgoingtobean
artistanyway.Andyeah,IguessifyouthrowDamenintothatalreadyfullmix,youendupnotonlywitha
seriouslycompromisedGPA,butfifty-sevenminutesofawkwardness.

But in the end, I go. Mostly because it's the right thing to do. And I'm so focused on gathering my

suppliesanddonningmysmock,thatatfirstIdon'trealizehe'snoteventhere.Andastheminutestickby
with still no sign of him, I grab my paints and head for my easel. Only to find that stupid triangle note
balancedontheedge.Istareatit,focusingsointenselythateverythingaroundmegrowsdarkandoutof
focus.Theentireclassroomreducedtoonesinglepoint.Myentireworldconsistingofatriangle-shaped
letterrestingonathinwoodenledge,thenameStaciascrawledonitsfront.AndeventhoughI'venoidea
how it got there, even though a quick survey of the room reaffirms Damen's not there, I don't want it
anywherenearme.Irefusetoparticipateinthissicklittlegame.Igrabapaintbrushandflickitashardas
I can, watching as it soars through the air before tumbling to the ground, knowing I'm acting childish,
ridiculous,especiallywhenMs.Machadocomesbyandswoopsitupinherhand.

"Lookslikeyoudroppedsomething!"shesings,hersmilebrightandexpectant,havingnoideathatI

putitthereonpurpose.

"It'snotmine,"Imumble,rearrangingmypaints,figuringshecangetittoStaciaherself,orbetteryet,

throwitaway.

"Sothere'sanotherEverI'mnotawareoft"Shesmiles.What?
Itakethenoteshedanglesbeforeme,Everclearlyscrawledacrossitsfront,andwritteninDamen's

unmistakable hand. Having no idea how this happened, no logical explanation. Because I know what I
saw.

My fingers tremble as I begin to unfold it, opening all three corners and smoothing the crease,

gaspingwhenasmalldetailedsketchisunveiled—asmalldetailedsketchofonebeautifulredtulip.

ChapterEleven

HalloweenisjustafewdaysawayandI'mstillworkingonthefinaltouchesformycostume.
Haven'sgoingasavampire(duh),Milesisgoingasapiratebutthat'sonlyafterItalkedhimoutof

goingasMadonnainhercone-breastphase,andI'mnottellingwhatI'mgoingas.Butonlybecausemy
oncegreatideahasmorphedintoanoverlyambitiousprojectI'mquicklylosingfaithin.

Though I have to admit I was pretty surprised Sabine even wanted to throw a party to begin with.

Partly because she never really seems interested in stuff like that, but mostly because I figured that
betweenthetwoofuswe'dbeluckytocomeupwithfiveguestsmax.ButapparentlySabine'salotmore
popular than I realized, as she quickly filled two and a half columns, while my list was pathetically
shorterconsistingofmyonlytwofriendsandtheirpossibleplusones.

SowhileSabinehiredacaterertohandlethefoodanddrink,IputMilesinchargeofaudio/visual

(whichmeanshe'lldockhisiPodandrentsomescarymovies),andaskedHaventoprovidethecupcakes.
WhichprettymuchleftRileyandmeasthesolemembersofthedecorationscommittee.AndsinceSabine
handedmeacatalogandacreditcardwithspecificinstructionsto"don'tholdback,"we'vespentthelast
two afternoons transforming the house from its usual look of semicustom Tuscan track home to spooky,
scary,crypt-keeper'scastle.Andit'sbeensomuchfun,remindingmeofwhenweusedtodecorateourold
house for Easter, Thanksgiving,and Christmas. Not to mention how staying busy and focused has really
helpedcurbsomeofourbickering.

"Youshouldgoasamermaid,"Rileysays."OrasoneofthosekidsfromthoseOCrealityshows."
"Ohjeez,don'ttellmeyoustillwatchthatstuffyIsay,balancingprecariouslyonthesecondtolast

rung,soIcanstringupyetanotherfauxspiderweb.

"Don'tblameme,Tivo'sgotamindofitsown."Sheshrugs.
"YouhaveTivo?"Iturn,desperateforanyinformationIcangetsinceshe'salwayssostingywiththe

afterlifedetails.

Butshejustlaughs."Iswear,youaresogullible—thethingsyoubelieve!"Sheshakesherheadand

rollshereyes,reachingintoacardboardboxandretrievingastringoffairylights.

"Wanna trade?" she offers, unraveling the cord. "I mean, it's ridiculous the way you insist on

climbingupanddownthatladderwhenIcanjustlevitateandgetthejobdone."

Ishakemyheadandfrown.Eventhoughitmightbeeasier,Istillliketopretendmylifeissomewhat

normal.

"Sowhatareyougoingas?"
"Forget it," I say, attaching the web to the corner, before climbing down the ladder to get a good

look.

"Ifyoucanhavesecrets,thenIcantoo."
"Nofair."ShecrossesherarmsandpoutsinthewaythatalwaysworkedonDad,butneveronMom.
"Relax,you'llseeitattheparty,"Itellher,pickingupaglowin-the-darkskeletonanduntanglingthe

limbs.

"Youmean,I'minvited?"sheasks,hervoicesqueaky,eyeswidewithexcitement.
"Like I could stop you?" I laugh, propping Mr. Skeleton near the entryway so he can greet all our

guests.

"Isyourboyfriendcomingtoo?"
Irollmyeyesandsigh."YouknowIdon'thaveaboyfriend,"Isay,boredwiththisgamebeforeit's

evenbegun.

"Please. I'm not an idiot." She scowls. "It's not like I've forgotten the great sweatshirt debate.

Besides,Ican'twaittomeethim,orIguessIshouldsay;seehim,sinceit'snotlikeyou'deverintroduce
me.Whichisreallyprettyrudeifyouthinkaboutit.Imeanjustbecausehecan'tseemedoesn'tmean..."

"Jeez,he'snotinvited,okay?"Ishout,notrealizingI'vestumbledintohertrapuntilit'stoolate.
"Ha!"Shelooksatme,eyeswide,browsraised,lipscurvingwithdelight."Iknewit!"Shelaughs,

tossingthefairylightsandjumpinginglee,spinningandthrustingandpointingatme.

"Iknewit,Iknewit,Iknewit!"shesings,punchingherfistsintheair."Ha!Iknewit!"Shetwirls.
Iclosemyeyesandsigh,chidingmyselfforfallingintoherpoorlyconcealedtrap.
"You don't know anything." I glare at her and shake my head. "He was never my boyfriend, okay?

He-hewasjustsomenewkid,whoatfirstIthoughtwaskindofcute,butthen,whenIrealizedwhata
total player he is, well, let's just say that I'm over it. In fact, I don't even think he's cute anymore.
Seriously, it lasted like ten seconds, but only because I didn't know any better. And it's not like I'm the
only one who fell for his game, because Miles and Haven were practically fighting over him. So why
don'tyoujuststopwithalltheairpunchingandhipthrusts,andgetbacktowork,okay?"

AndthemomentIstop,IknowIsoundedwaytoodefensivetoeverbebelieved.Butnowthatit'sout

thereIcan'ttakeitback,soIjusttrytoignoreherasshehoversaroundtheroomsinging,"Yup!Isoknew
it!"

By Halloween night the house looks amazing. Riley and I taped webs in all of the windows and

corners,andstuckhugeblackwidowspidersintheirmiddles.Wehungblackrubberbatsfromtheceiling,
scatteredbloodied,severed(fake)bodypartsallaround,andsetupacrystalballnexttoaplug-inraven
whose eyes light up and roll around when he says, "You'll be sorry! Squawk! You'll be sorry!" We
dressedzombiesin'blood"coveredragsandplacedthemwhereyou'dleastexpecttofindthem.Weput
steamingcauldronsofwitches'brew(reallyjustdryiceandwater)intheentry,andscatteredskeletons,
mummies, black cats and rats (well, fake ones, but still creepy), gargoyles, coffins, black candles, and
skulls pretty much everywhere. We even decorated the backyard with jack-o'-lanterns, floating pool
globes,andblinkingfairylights.Andohyeah,weplacedalife-sizedgrimreaperoutonthefrontlawn.

"How do I look?" Riley asks, gazing down at her purple shell-covered chest and red hair as she

swisheshersparkly,metallic,greenfishtailaround.

"LikeyourfavoriteDisneycharacter,"Isay,powderingmyfaceuntilit'sverypale,tryingtothinkof

awaytogetridofhersoIcanchangeintomycostumeandmaybesurpriseherforachange.

"I'lltakethatasacompliment."Shesmiles.
"As you should." I brush my hair back and pin it close to my head, preparing for the big, blond,

toweringwigI'llwear.

"Sowhoareyougoingas?"Shegazesatme."Imean,wouldyoujusttellmealready,becausethe

suspenseisreallykillingme!"Sheclutchesherstomachinafitoflaughter,rockingbackandforth,and
nearly falling off the bed. She loves making death puns. Thinks they're hysterical. But mostly they just
makemecringe.

Ignoringthejoke,Iturntoherandsay,"Domeafavor?
She's down the hall and check out Sabine's costume, and let me know if she tries to wear that big

rubbernosewiththehairywartontheend.Itoldherit'sareallygreatwitch'scostume,butsheneedsto
ditchthenose.Guysdon'tusuallygoforthatsortofthing."

"She'sgotaguy?"Rileyasks,clearlysurprised.
"Not if she wears the nose," I say, watching as she slips off the bed and heads across the room,

mermaidtaildraggingbehindher."Butdon'tmakeanynoise,ordoanythingtoscareher,okay?"Iadd,
cringingassheslinksthroughmyclosedbedroomdoor,notevenbotheringtoopenit.Imean,justbecause
I'vewitnessedthatlikeagazilliontimesdoesn'tmeanI'vegottenusedtoit.

IheadintomyclosetandunzipthebagI'vehiddenintheback,removingthebeautifulblackgown

withthelowsquareneckline,thesheerthree-quarter-lengthsleeves,andthesupertightbodicethatswells
intoshiny,loosefolds—justliketheoneMarieAntoinetteworetothemaskedball(well,asportrayedby
Kirsten Dunst in the movie). And after struggling with the zipper in the back, I slip on my very tall
platinum blond wig (because even though I'm already blond, I could never get my hair to go that high),
applysomeredlipstick,fastenafilmyblackmaskovermyeyes,andinsertsomelong,dangly,rhinestone
earrings.Andwhenmycostume'scompleteIstandbeforemymirrortwirlingandspinningandsmilingas
myshinyblackdressswaysallaround,andI'mthrilledwithhowgooditturnedout.

ThesecondRileypopsbackinsheshakesherheadandsays,"Allclear—finally!Imean,firstshe

putthenoseon,thenshetookitoff,thensheputitbackonandturnedtocheckoutherprofile,onlytotake
it back off again. I swear it took all of my will not to just snatch it off her face and chuck it out the
window."

Ifreeze,holdingmybreath,hopingshedidn'tdoanysuchthing,becausewithRileyyoujustnever

know.

She plops herself onto my desk chair and uses the tip of her sparkly green fin to propel herself

around."Relax,"shesays.

"LastIsaw,sheleftitinthebathroom,nexttothesink.Andthensomeguycalledneedingdirections,

andshewentonandonaboutwhatagreatjobyoudidonthehouse,andhowshecanhardlybelieveyou
handleditallbyyourself,andbippidy-blah-blah."Sheshakesherheadandfrowns.

"You must really love that, huh? Taking all the credit for our hard work." She stops spinning and

givesmealong,appraisinglook."So,MarieAntoinette,"shefinallysays,hereyestakingatourofmy
costume."Ineverwould'veguessed.Imean,it'snotlikeyou'reallthatbigoncake."

I roll my eyes. "For your information, she never said that about the cake. It was a vicious tabloid

rumor,sodon'tyoubelieveit,"Itellher,unabletostopmirrorgazing,asIrecheckmymakeupandpatmy
wig,hopingitwillallstaywhereit'ssupposedto.ButwhenIcatchRiley'sreflection,somethingabout
thewayshelooksmakesmestopandmovetowardher."Hey,youokay?"

Shecloseshereyesandbitesherlip.Thenshe.shakesherheadandsays,"Jeez,wouldyoulookat

us?You'redressedasatragicteenqueen,andI'ddoanythingjusttobeateen."

Istarttoreachforher,butmyhandsfumbleatmysides.IguessI'msousedtohavingheraroundthat

Isometimesforgethowshe'snotreallyhere,howshe'snolongerpartofthisworld,andhowshe'llnever
growanyolder,nevergetthechancetobethirteen.AndthenIrememberhowit'sallmyfaulttobegin
with,andIfeelamilliontimesworse.

"Riley,I—"Butshejustshakesherheadandwaveshertailaround.

"Noworries."Shesmiles,floatingupfromthechair."Timetogreettheguests!"
Haven came with Evangeline, her codependent donor friend, who, big surprise, is dressed like a

vampiretoo,andMilesbroughtEric,someguyheknowsfromhisactingclasswholookslikehemight
actuallybeprettycutebeneaththatblacksatinZorromaskandcape.

"Ican'tbelieveyoudidn'tinviteDamen,"Havensays,shakingherheadandskippingrightpasthello.

She'sbeenmadatmeallweek,eversinceshelearnedhedidn'tmakethelist.

Irollmyeyesandtakeadeepbreath,tiredofdefendingtheobvious,ofhavingtopointoutyetagain

how he's clearly ditched us, becoming a permanent fixture not just at Stacia's lunch table but also her
desk.Procuringrosebudsfromallmannerofplaces,andhowhisartproject,WomanwithYellowHairis
beginning to look suspiciously like her. I mean, excuse me for not wanting to dwell on the fact of how
despitetheredtulips,themysteriousnote,andtheintimategazeweonceshared,hehasn'tspokentomein
almosttwoweeks.

"It's not like he would've come anyway," I finally say, hoping she won't notice how my voice just

cracked in betrayal. ' I'm sure he's out somewhere with Stacia, or the redhead, or—" I shake my head,
refusingtocontinue.

"Wait—redhead?There'saredheadtoo?"Shesquintsatme.
Ishrug.Becausethetruthis,hecouldbewithjustaboutanyone.AllIknowisthatheisn'therewith

me.

"You should see him." She turns to Evangeline. "He's amazing. Gorgeous like a movie star—sexy

likearockstar—heevendoesillusions."Shesighs.

Evangelineraisesherbrows."Soundslikeheisanillusion.Noone'sthatperfect."
"Damenis.Toobadyoucan'tseeforyourself."Havenfrownsatmeagain,herfingersfiddlingwith

theblackvelvetchokershewearsaroundherneck."Butifyoudohappentomeethim,don'tforgetthat
he'smine.IcalleditwaybeforeIknewyou."

IgazeatEvangeline,takinginherdarkmurkyaura,fishnetstockings,tinyblackboyshorts,andmesh

T-shirt,knowingshehasnointentionofkeepinganysuchpromise.

"YouknowIcouldlendyousomefangsandfakebloodforyourneckandyoucouldbeavampire

too," Haven offers looking at. me, her mind flip-flopping back and forth, wanting to be my friend,
convincedI'mherfoe.

But I just shake my head and steer them to the other side of the room, hoping she'll move on to

somethingelseandsoonforgetaboutDamen.

Sabine's talking to her friends, Haven and Evangeline are spiking their drinks, Miles and Eric are

dancing, while Riley plays with the tail of Eric's whip, swinging the fringe up and down and back and
forth,thenlookingaroundtoseeifanyonenotices.AndjustasI'mabouttogiveherthesignal,theonethat
meansshebettercutitoutifshewantstostickaround,thedoorbellrings,andweraceeachothertogetit.

And even though I beat her to it, when I open the door I forget to gloat, because Damen is there.

Flowers in one hand, gold-tipped hat in the other, with his hair gathered into a low ponytail, his usual
sleek black clothes replaced with a frilly white shirt, a coat with gold buttons, and what can only be
describedasbreeches,tights,andpointyblackshoes.AndjustasI'mthinkinghowMilesisgoingtobe
completelyenviousofthatcostume,Irealizewhohe'sdressedas,andmyheartskipstwobeats.

"CountFersen,"Imumble,barelymanagingthewords.
"Marie."Hesmiles,offeringadeep,gallantbow.
"But... it was a secret... and you weren't even invited," I whisper, peering past his shoulder,

searchingforStacia,theredhead,anyoneatall,knowinghecouldn'tpossiblybehereforme.

Buthejustsmilesandhandsmetheflowers."Thenitmustbealuckycoincidence."

Iswallowhardandturnonmyheel,leadinghimthroughtheentry,pastthelivinganddiningrooms,

andintotheden,mycheeksburningasmyheartbeatssohardandsofastIfearitmightburstthroughmy
chest. Wondering how this possibly could've happened, searching for some logical explanation for
Darnen'sshowingupatmypartydressedasmyperfectotherhalf.

"Omigod,Damen'shere!"Havensqueals,armswaving,facealllitup—well,asmuchasaheavily

powdered,fang-wearing,blood-dripping,vampirefacecanlightup.Butthemomentsheseeshiscostume,
realizinghecameasCountAxelFersen,thenot-so-secretloverofMarieAntoinette,herentirefacedims,
andhereyesturntome,glaringaccusingly.

"So,when'dyoutwoarrangeit?"sheasks,advancingonus,tryingtokeephervoicelight,neutral,

butmoreforDamen'sbenefitthanmine.

"We didn't," I say, hoping she'll believe it, yet knowing she won't. I mean, it's such a bizarre

coincidenceI'mbeginningtodoubtitmyself,wonderingifIsomehowletitslip,eventhoughIknowthatI
didn't.

"Completefluke,"Damensays,hookinghisarmaroundmywaist.Andeventhoughheonlykeepsit

thereforamoment,it'sstilllongenoughtoleavemywholebodytingling.

"You'vegottobeDamen,"Evangelinesays,slinkingupbesidehim,fingerspluckingattheruffleson

hisshirt."IthoughtforsureHavenwasexaggerating,thoughapparentlynot!"Shelaughs.'Andwho'reyou
dressedas?"

"CountFersen,"Havensays,voicehardandbrittle,eyesnarrowedonmine.
"Whoever." Evangeline shrugs, stealing his hat and perching it on top of her head, smiling

seductivelyfromunderthebrimbeforegrabbinghishandandleadinghimaway.

Themomentthey'regone,Haventurnstomeandsays,"Ican'tbelieveyou!"Herfaceisangry,fists

clenched,butthat'snothingcomparedtothehorriblethoughtsthatswirlthroughherhead."Youknowhow
muchIlikehim.Iconfidedinyou,Itrustedyou!"

"Haven, I swear, it wasn't planned. It's just some freaky coincidence. I don't even know what he's

doing here, and you know I didn't invite him," I say, wanting to convince her, yet knowing it's useless,
she's already made up her mind. 'And I don't know if you noticed, but your good friend Evangeline is
practicallyhumpinghislegoverthere."

Havenglancesacrosstheroomthenturnsbacktome,shruggingwhenshesays,"Shedoesthatwith

everyone,she'shardlyathreat.Unlikeyou."

I take a deep breath, striving for patience and trying not to laugh as Riley stands beside her,

mimickingeveryword,reenactingeverymove,mockingherinawaythat'sdefinitelyfunnythoughnotat
allkind.

"Listen,"Ifinallysay."Idon'tlikehim!Imean,howcanIconvinceyouofthat?JusttellmeandI'll

doit!"

Sheshakesherheadandlooksaway,shoulderssinking,thoughtsturningdark,redirectingallofthat

angerbackonherself."Don't."Shesighs,blinkingrapidly,stavingofftears."Don'tsayaword.Ifhelikes
youthenhelikesyou,andthere'snothingIcando.Imean,it'snotyourfaultyou'resmartandprettyand
guysarealwaysgoingtolikeyoubetterthanme.Especiallyoncetheyseeyouwithoutyourhood."She
triestolaugh,butdoesn'tquitemakeit.

"You'remakingsomethingoutofnothing,"Isay,hopingtoconvinceher,hopingtoconvincemyself.

"TheonlythingDamenandIhaveincommonisourtasteinmoviesandcostumes.That'sit,Iswear."And
whenIsmile,I'mhopingitplaysmorerealthanitfeels.

ShegazesacrosstheroomatEvangelinewho'stakenholdofZorro'swhipandisdemonstratingthe

properwaytouseit,thensheturnsbacktomeandsays,"Justdomeafavor."

Inod,willingtodojustaboutanythingtoputanendtoallthis."Stoplying.Youreallysuckatit."
Iwatchasshewalksaway,thenIturntoRileywho'sjumpingupanddown,shouting,"Omigod,this

hasgottobeyourbestpartyever!Drama!Intrigue!Jealousy!Analmost-catfight!IamsogladIdidn't
missthis!"

AndI'mjustabouttotellhertoshushwhenIrememberhowI'mtheonlyonewhocanactuallyhear

herandhowitmightlookalittlestrangeformetodothat.Andwhenthedoorbellringsagain,despitethe
fishtailfloppingbehindher,thistime,shebeatsmetoit.

"Ohmy,"saysthewomanstandingontheporchgazingbetweenRileyandme.
"Can I help you?" I ask, noticing how she's not dressed up, unless California casual counts as a

costume.

Shelooksatme,herbrowneyesmeetingminewhenshesays,"SorryI'mlate,trafficwasabite—

wellyouknow"ShenodsatRileyasthoughshecanactuallyseeher.

"AreyouafriendofSabine's?"Iask,thinkingmaybeit'ssomeweirdnervousticthatkeepshereyes

darting to where Riley is standing, because even though she has a nice purple aura, for some reason, I
can'treadher.

'I'mAva.Sabinehiredme."
"Are you one of the caterers?" I ask, wondering why she's wearing a black off-the-shoulder top,

skinnyjeans,andballetflatsinsteadofawhiteshirtandblackpantsliketherestoftheteam.

ButshejustlaughsandwavesatRiley,who'shidingbehindthefoldsofmydress,likesheusedtodo

withourmomwhenevershefeltshy.

"Im the psychic," she says, brushing her long auburn hair off her face, and kneeling down beside

Riley."AndIseeyouhavealittlefriendwithyou."

ChapterTwelve

ApparentlyAvathepsychicwassupposedtobethisfunsurpriseforeveryone.Buttrustme,noone

wasmoresurprisedthanme.Imean,howdidInotseeitcoming?WasIsowrappedupinmyownworld
thatIforgottopokearoundinSabine's?

Andit'snotlikeIcouldjustsendheraway,eventhoughIwastempted.ButbeforeIcouldevenreact

totheshockofherseeingRiley,Sabinewasatthedoor,invitingherin.

"Ohgood,youmadeit.AndIseeyou'vemetmyniece,"shesays,usheringherintothedenwherea

tableissetupandwaiting.

I hover close by, wondering if Ava the Psychic will try to mention my dead little sister. But then

SabineasksmetofetchAvaadrink,andbythetimeIreturnshe'sgivingareading.

"You should get in line before it gets any longer," Sabine says, her shoulder pressed against

Frankenstein,who,withorwithoutthecreepymask,isnotthecuteguywhoworksinherbuilding.He's
alsonotthebig,successfulinvestmentbankerhepretendstobe.Infact,hestillliveswithhismother.But
Idon'twanttotellheranyofthatanddestroyhergoodmood,soIjustshakemyheadandsay,"Maybe
later."

It's nice to see Sabine enjoying herself for a change, good to know she has a whole network of

friends, and from what I can see, a renewed interest in dating. And even though it's fun watching Riley
dance with unsuspecting people and eavesdrop on conversations she probably shouldn't hear, I need a
breakfromalloftherandomthoughts,vibratingauras,swirlingenergy,butmostofall,Damen.

SofarI'vedonemybesttokeepmydistance,toactcoolandignorehimwhenIseehimatschool,

butseeinghimtonight,dressedinwhatisclearlytheotherhalfofacouple'scostume—well,I'mnotsure
whattothink.Imean,lastIsaw,hewasintotheredhead,Stacia,anyonebutme.Enchantingthemwithhis
charm,goodlooks,charisma,andinexplicablemagictricks.

I bury my nose in the flowers he brought me, twenty-four tulips, all of them red. And even though

tulips aren't exactly known for their scent, somehow these are heady, intoxicating, and sweet. I inhale
deeply,losingmyselfintheirfragrantbouquetandsecretlyadmittingIlikehim.Imean,Ireallylikehim.I
can'thelpit.Ijustdo.AndnomatterhowhardItrytopretendotherwise,itdoesn'tmakeitanylesstrue.

BeforeDamencamealong,I'dresignedmyselftoasolitaryfate.NotthatIwasthrilledwiththeidea

of never having another boyfriend, of never getting close to another person again. But how can I date
whentouchfeelssooverbearing?

HowcanIbeinarelationshipwhenI'llalwaysknowwhatmypartneristhinking?Nevergettingthe

chancetoobsess,dissect,andguessatthesecretmeaningofeverythinghesaysanddoes?

Andeventhoughitprobablyseemscooltoreadmindsandenergyandauras,trustme,itsoisn't.I

would give anything to get my old life back, to be as normal and clueless as every other girl. Because
sometimesevenyourbestfriendscanthinksomeprettyunflatteringthings,andnothavinganoffswitch
requiresaheckofalotofforgiveness.

But that's what's so great about Damen. He's like an off switch. He's the only one I can't read, the

onlyonewhocansilencethesoundofeveryoneelse.Andeventhoughhemakesmefeelwonderfuland
warmandasclosetonormalasI'llevergettobe,Ican'thelpbutthinkthatthere'snothingnormalaboutit.

Isitononeoftheloungechairsandarrangemyfullskirtallaround,watchingthewaterglobesbob

and change color as they glide across the pool's shiny surface. And I'm so lost in my thoughts and the
amazingviewbeforeme,thatatfirstIdon'tnoticewhenDamenappears.

"Hey."Hesmiles.AndwhenIglanceathim,mywholebodyheats.
"It'sagoodparty.I'mgladIcrashed."Hesitsdownbesideme,asIstarestraightahead,awarethat

he's teasing but too nervous to respond. "You make a good Marie," he says, his finger tapping the long
blackfeatherIstuckinmywigattheverylastmoment.

I press my lips together, feeling anxious, nervous, tempted to flee. Then I take a deep breath and

relax and go with it. Allow myself to live a little—if just for one night. 'And you make a good Count
Fersen,"Ifinallysay.

"Please,callmeAxel."Helaughs.
"Didtheychargeextraforthemothhole?"Iask,noddingatthefrayedspotnearhisshoulder,though

choosingnottomentionitsmustyscent.

Helooksatme,hiseyesrightonminewhenhesays,
"That'snomothhole.That'stheby-productofartilleryfire,arealnearmissastheysay."
"Well,ifIrememberright,inthisparticularsceneyouwerepursuingadark-hairedgirl."Iglanceat

him,rememberingatimewhenflirtingcameeasy,summoningthegirlIusedtobe.

"There'sbeenalast-minuterewrite."Hesmiles."Didn'tyougetthenewscript?"
Ikickmyfeetupandsmile,thinkinghowniceitfeelstofinallyletgo,toactlikeanormalgirl,with

anormalcrush,justlikeanyoneelse.

"And in this new version it's just us. And you, Marie, get to keep your pretty head." He takes his

finger,theverytipofhisindexfinger,andslidesitacrossthewidthofmyneck,leavingatrailofwarm
wonderfulsizzleashelingersjustundermyear."Whydidn'tyougetinlineforareading?"hewhispers,
hisfingerstravelingalongmyjaw,mycheek,tracingthecurveofmyear,ashislipsloomsocloseour
breathsmeetandmingle.

Ishrugandpressmylips,wishinghe'djustshutupandkissmealready.
"Areyouaskeptic?"
"No—Ijust—ldon'tknow."Imumble,sofrustratedI'mtemptedtoscream.
Whydoesheinsistontalking?Doesn'therealizethismaybemylastremainingshotatanormalboy-

girlexperience?

Thatanopportunitylikethismayneverpresentitselfagain?
"Howcomeyou'renotinline?"Iask,nolongertryingtohidemyfrustration.
"Wasteoftime."Helaughs."It'snotpossibletoreadminds,ortellthefuture—right?"
Ishiftmygazetothepool,blinkingatthewaterglobesthathavenotonlyturnedpinkbutareforming

aheart.

"HaveIangeredyou?"heasks,hisfingerscuppingmychin,bringingmyfacebacktohis.
And that's another thing. Sometimes he uses California surf speak as well as anyone else around

here,andothertimes,hesoundslikehejustwalkedstraightoutofthepagesofWutheringHeights.

"No.Youhavenotangeredme,"Isay,laughinginspiteofmyself.
"What'ssofunny?"heasks,hisfingersslidingundermybangs,seekingthescaronmyforeheadand

causing me to pull away. "How'd you get that?" he asks, hand back to his side, gazing at me with such
warmthandsincerityIalmostconfide.

ButIdon't. Becausethisis theonenight oftheyear whenI gettobe someoneelse.When Igetto

pretendthatI'mnotresponsiblefortheendofeverythingIhelddear.TonightIgettoflirt,andplay,and
makerecklessdecisionsI'llprobablylivetoregret.BecausetonightI'mnolongerEver,I'mMarie.Andif
he'sanykindofaCountFersenhe'llshutupandkissmealready.

"Idon'twanttotalkaboutit,"Isay,blinkingatthewaterglobesthatarenowredandformingintoa

tulip.

"What do you want to talk about?" he whispers, gazing at me with those eyes, two infinite pools

luringmein.

"Idon'twanttotalk,"Iwhisper,holdingmybreathashislipsmeetmine.

ChapterThirteen

IfIthoughthisvoicewasamazingwiththewayitenvelopesmeinsilence,ifIthoughthistouchwas

incrediblewiththewayitawakensmyskin,well,thewayhekissesisotherworldly.AndeventhoughI'm
no expert, having only kissed a few guys before, I'm still willing to bet that a kiss like this, a kiss this
completeandtranscendent,isaonce-in-a-lifetimething.

Andwhenhepullsawayandgazesintomyeyes,Iclosemineagain,grabhislapels,andbringhim

backtome.

UntilHavensays,"Jeez,I'vebeenlookingalloverforyou.Ishould'veknownyou'dbehidingout

here."

Ipullaway,horrifiedtobecaughtintheact,notlongafterswearingthatIdon'tevenlikehim."We

werejust—"

She raises her hand to stop me. "Please. Spare me the details. I just wanted you to know that

EvangelineandIaretakingoff."

"Already?"Iask,wonderinghowlongwe'vebeenouthere.
"Yeah, my friend Drina stopped by, she's taking us to another party. You guys are welcome to tag

alongtoo—thoughyouseemprettybusy."Shesmirks.

"Drina?"Damensays,standingsofasthiswholebodyblurs.
"Youknowher?"Havenasks,butDamen'salreadygone,movingsofastwescrambletofollow.
IrushbehindHaven,anxioustocatchup,desperatetoexplain,butwhenwereachtheFrenchdoors

and I grab onto her shoulder I'm filled with such darkness, such overwhelming anger and despair, the
wordsfreezeonmytongue.

Then she pulls away and glares over her shoulder, saying, "I told you, you suck at lying," before

continuingon.

Itakeadeepbreathandfollowbehind,trailingthemthroughthekitchen,theden,makingmywayto

the door, my eyes fixed on the back of Damen's head, noticing how he moves so fast and sure, it's as
though he knows just where to find her. And by the time I step into the foyer, I freeze when I see them
togetherheinhiseighteenthcenturysplendor—andshedressedasaMarieAntoinettesorich,solovely,
soexquisite,sheputsmetoshame.

"And you must be..." she lifts her chin as her eyes land on mine, two glowing spheres of deep

emeraldgreen.

"Ever,"Imumble,takinginthepaleblondwig,thecreamyflawlessskin,thetangleofpearlsather

throat, watching as her perfect pink lips display teeth so white they hardly seem real. I turn to Damen,

hopinghecanexplain,providesomelogicalexplanationforhowtheredheadfromtheSt.Regisendedup
inmyfoyer.Buthe'stoobusygazingathertoevennoticemyexistence.

"Whatareyoudoinghere?"heasks,hisvoicenearlyawhisper.
"Haveninvitedme."Shesmiles.
AndasIglancefromhertohim,mybodyfillswithacoldharddread.
"Howdoyouknoweachother?"Iask,notinghowDamen'sentiredemeanorhaschanged,suddenly

growingchilly,cold,anddistant—adarkcloudwherethesunusedtobe.

"ImetheratNocturne,"Drinasays,gazingrightatme.
"We'reheadedtherenow,Ihopeyoudon'tmindmystealingheraway?"
Inarrowmyeyes,ignoringthetwitchinmyheart,thepanginmygut,asIstruggletogetsomekindof

read.Butherthoughtsareinaccessible,sealedoffcompletely,andherauranonexistent.

"Oh, silly me, you were referring to Damen and I, weren't you?" She laughs, her eyes traveling

slowlyovermycostume,untilcomingbacktomeetmine.AndwhenIdon'trespondshenodswhenshe
says,"WekneweachotherbackinNewMexico."

Only,whenshesays,"NewMexico,"Damensays,"NewOrleans."CausingDrinatolaughinaway

thatneverquitereacheshereyes.

"Let's just say we go way back." She nods, extending a hand to my sleeve, her fingers trailing its

beaded edge, before sliding down to my wrist. "Lovely dress," she says, clasping me tightly. "Did you
makeityourself?"

Iwrenchmyarmfree,lessfromtheshockofbeingmockedandmorefromthechillofherfingers,the

frigidscratchofhercoldsharpnailsfreezingmyskinandshootingicethroughmyveins.

"Isn't she the coolest?" Haven says, gazing at Drina with the sort of awe she usually reserves for

vampires,Gothrockers,andDamen.WhileEvangelinestandsbesideher,rollinghereyesandchecking
herwatch.

"Wereallyneedtogoifwe'regoingtomakeittoNocturnebymidnight,"Evangelinesays.
''You'rewelcometojoinus."Drinasmiles."Fullystockedlimo."
AndwhenIglanceatHaven,Icanhearherthinking:Sayno,sayno,pleasesayno!
DrinaglancesbetweenDamenandme."Driver'swaiting,"shesings.
I turn to him, my heart caving when I see how conflicted he is. Then I clear my throat and force

myself to say, "You can go if you want. But I need to stay. I can't exactly leave my own party." Then I
laugh,attemptingtosoundlightandbreezy,whenthetruthis,Icanbarelybreathe.

Drinaglancesbetweenus,browsarched,facehaughty,betrayingjustthebriefestglimmerofshock

whenDamenshakeshisheadandtakesmyhandinsteadofhers.

"So wonderful to meet you Ever," Drina says, pausing before climbing into the limo. "Though I'm

surewe'llmeetagain."

Iwatchastheydisappearfromthedrivewayandontothestreet,thenIturntoDamenandsay,"So,

whoshouldIexpectnext,Stacia,Honor,andCraig?"

Andthesecondit'sout,I'mashamedforhavingsaidit,forrevealingwhatapetty,jealous,pathetic

personIam.It'snotlikeIdidn'tknowbetter.SoIshouldn'tfeelsosurprised.Damen'saplayer.Pureand
simple.Tonightjusthappenedtobemyturn.

"Ever,"hesays,smoothinghisthumbovermycheek.AndjustasIstarttopullaway,unwillingto

hearhisexcuses,helooksatmeandwhispers,"Ishouldprobablygotoo."

Isearchhiseyes,mymindacceptingatruthmyheartwouldratherrefuse,knowingthere'smoreto

thestatement,wordshefailedtoinclude—Ishouldgo—soIcancatchupwithher.

"Okay,wellthanksforcoming,"Ifinallysay,soundinglesslikeaprospectivegirlfriendandmore

likeawaitressafteraparticularlylongshift.

Buthejustsmiles,removesthefeatherfromthebackofmywig,andguidesitdownthelengthofmy

neck, tapping the very tip to my nose as he says, "Souvenir?" And I've barely had a chance to respond
beforehe'sinhiscaranddrivingaway.

I sink down onto the stairs, my head in my hands, wig teetering precariously, wishing I could just

disappear, go back in time, and start over. Knowing I never should've allowed him to kiss me, never
should'veinvitedhimin.

"Thereyouare!"Sabinesays,grabbingholdofmyarmandpullingmetomyfeet."I'vebeenlooking

alloverforyou.Avaagreedtostayjustlongenoughtogiveyouareading."

"ButIdon'twantareading,"Itellher,notwantingtooffend,butnotwantingtogothroughwithit

either.Ijustwanttogotomyroom,ditchthiswig,andfallintoalong,dreamlesssleep.

ButSabine'sbeenhittingthepartypunch,whichmeansshe'stootipsytolisten.Soshegrabsmyhand

andleadsmeintothedenwhereAvaiswaiting.

"Hello, Ever." Ava smiles as I sink onto the seat, grip the table, and wait for Sabine's inebriated

energytofade.

"Takeallthetimeyouneed."Shesmiles.
Igazeatthetarotcardslaidoutbeforeme."Um,nothingpersonal,butIdon'twantareading,"Isay,

meetinghereyesbeforeavertingmygaze.

"ThenIwon'tgiveyouareading."Sheshrugs,gatheringthecardsandbeginningtoshuffle.
"What do you say we just go through the motions so we can make your aunt happy? She worries

about you. Wonders if she's doing the right thing—providing enough freedom, providing too much
freedom."Shelooksatme."Whatdoyouthink?"

Ishrugandrollmyeyes.Thathardlyqualifiesasarevelation."She'sgettingmarried,youknow."I

lookup,startled,myeyesmeetinghers.

"Butnottoday."Shelaughs."Nottomorroweither.Sodon'tworry."
"WhywouldIworry?"Ishiftinmyseat,watchingasshecutsthedeckinhalfbeforespreadingthe

cardsintoacrescent."IwantSabinetobehappy,andifthat'swhatittakes—"

"True.Butyou'veexperiencedsomanychangesthispastyearalready,haven'tyou?Changesyou're

stilltryingtoadjustto.It'snoteasy,isit?"Shegazesatme.

But I don't respond. And why should I? She's yet to say anything remotely earth shattering or

insightful.Lifeisfullofchange,bigdeal.Imean,isn'tthatprettymuchthepoint?Togrowandchange,
andmovealong?Besides,it'snotlikeSabine'sanenigma.It'snotlikeshe'sallthatcomplex,orhardto
figureout.

"Sohowareyouhandlingyourgift?"Avaasks,turningsomecards,whileleavingothersfacedown.
"Mywhat?"Ipeerather,wonderingwhereshecouldpossiblybegoingwiththis.
"Yourpsychicgift."Shesmiles,noddingasthoughit'safact.
"Idon'tknowwhatyou'retalkingabout."Ipressmylipstogetherandglancearoundtheroom,seeing

MilesandEricdancewithSabineandherdate,andunbeknownsttothem,Riley.

"It's hard at first." She nods. "Believe me, I know I was the first to know about my grandmother's

passing.Shecamerightintomyroom,stoodatthefootofmybed,andwavedgoodbye.Iwasonlyfourat
thetime,soyoucanimaginehowmyparentsreactedwhenIranintothekitchentotellthem."Sheshakes
herheadandlaughs."Butyouunderstand,becauseyouseethemtoo,right?"

Istareatthecards,myhandsclaspedtogether,notsayingaword.
"It can feel so overwhelming, so isolating. But it doesn't have to. You don't have to hide under a

hood,killingyoureardrumswithmusicyoudon'tevenlike.Therearewaystohandleit,andI'dbehappy

toshowyoubecause,Ever,youdon'thavetolivelikethat."

Igriptheedgeofthetableandrisefrommyseat,mylegsfeelingshaky,unsure,mystomachunstable.

This lady is crazy if she thinks what I have is a gift. Because I know better. I know it's just one more
punishmentforeverythingthatIdid,everythingthatIcaused.It'smyownpersonalburden,andIjusthave
todealwithit."Ihavenoideawhatyou'retalkingabout,"Ifinallysay.

Butshejustnods,andslideshercardtowardme."Whenyou'reready,youcanreachmehere."
Itakehercard,butonlybecauseSabine'swatchingfromacrosstheroomandIdon'twanttoseem

rude. Then I fold it in the palm of my hand, squishing it into a hard, angry ball, as I ask, "Are we
done?"anxioustogetaway.

"Onelastthing."Sheslidesthedeckintoabrownleathercase."I'mworriedaboutyourlittlesister.I

thinkit'stimeshemoveson,don'tyou?"

I look at her, sitting there so smug and knowing, judging my life when she doesn't even know me.

"ForyourinformationRileyhasmovedon!She'sdead!"Iwhisper,droppinghercrumbled-upcardonthe
table,nolongercaringwhosees.

Butshejustsmilesandsays,"IthinkyouknowwhatImean."

ChapterFourteen

Thatnight,longafterthepartyhadendedandallofourguestsweregone,Iwaslyinginbed,thinking

aboutAva,whatshesaidaboutRileybeingstuck,andhowIwastoblame.IguessI'dalwaysassumed
Rileyhadmovedonandwaschoosingtovisitonherownfreewill.Sinceit'snotlikeIaskhertodropby
all the time, it's just something she chooses to do. And the times she's not with me, well, I figure she's
kickingitsomewhereinHeaven.AndeventhoughIknowAva'sonlytryingtohelp,offeringtostandinas
somesortofpsychicbigsister,whatshedoesn'trealizeisthatIdon'twantanyhelp.ThateventhoughI
yearntobenormalagain,gobacktothewaythingswerebefore,Ialsoknowthatthisismypunishment.
ThishorriblegiftiswhatIdeserveforalltheharmthatI'vecaused,forthelivesIcutshort.AndnowI
justhavetolivewithit—andtrynottoharmanyoneelse.

When I finally did fall asleep, I dreamt of Damen. And everything about it felt so powerful, so

intense, so urgent, I thought it was real. But by morning, all I had left were fragmented pieces, shifting
images with no beginning or end. The only thing I could clearly remember was the two of us running
throughacold.

"What'syourproblem?Whysogrumpy?"Rileyasks,perchedontheedgeofmybed,dressedina

ZorrocostumeidenticaltotheoneEricworetotheparty.

"Halloween'sover,"Isay;staringpointedlyattheblackleatherwhipsheslapsagainstthefloor.
"Duh."Shemakesafaceandcontinuestopunishthecarpet.
"SoIlikethecostume,bigdeal.I'mthinkingaboutdressingupeveryday."Ileantowardthemirror,

insertmytinydiamond-chipstuds,andscrapemyhairintoaponytail.

"Ican'tbelieveyou'restilldressinglikethat,"shesays,hernosecrinklingindisgust.
"I thought you bagged yourself a boyfriend?" She drops the whip and grabs my iPod, her fingers

slidingaroundthewheelasshescrollsthroughmyplaylist.

Iturn,wonderingwhatexactlyshesaw.
"Hello? At the party? By the pool? Or was that just a hookup?" I stare at her, my face flushing

crimson.

"Whatdoyouknowabouthookups?You'reonlytwelve!Andwhytheheckareyouspyingonme?"
Sherollshereyes."Please,likeI'dwastemytimespyingonyouwhenthere'swaybetterstuffIcan

see. For your information, I just so happened to go outside at the exact same moment you shoved your
tonguedownthatDamenguy'sthroat.Andtrustme,IwishIhadn'tseenit."

Ishakemyheadandransackmydrawer,transferringmyannoyanceatRileyontomysweatshirts.'

Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you, but he's hardly my boyfriend. I haven't talked to him since," I say,

hatingthewaymystomachjustcurledinonitselfwhenIsaidthat.ThenIgrabacleangraysweatshirtand
yankitovermyhead,completelydestroyingtheponytailIjustmade.

"Icanspyonhimifyouwant.Orhaunthim."Shesmiles.
Ilookatherandsigh.Partofmewantingtotakeheruponit,theotherpartknowingit'stimetomove

on,cutmylosses,andforgetiteverhappened.

"Juststayoutofit,okay?"Ifinallysay."I'dlikejustonenormalhighschoolexperience,ifyoudon't

mind."

"Uptoyou."Sheshrugs,tossingmetheiPod."Butjustsoyouknow,Brandon'sbackonthemarket."
Igrabastackofbooksandstuffthemintomybackpack,amazedathowthatbitofnewsdoesn'tmake

mefeelanybetter.

"Yup, Rachel dumped him on Halloween when she caught him making out with a Playboy bunny.

Onlyitwasn'treallyaPlayboybunny,itwasHeatherWatsondressedasone."

"Seriously?"Igape."HeatherWatson?You'rejoking."Itrytopictureitinmymind,butitdoesn'tadd

up.

"Scouts honor. You should see her, she lost twenty pounds, ditched the headgear, got her hair

straightened, and she looks like a totally different person. Unfortunately, she also acts like a totally
differentperson.She'skindofa,well,youknow,aBwithanitch,"shewhispers,goingbacktowhipping
thefloor,asIletthatbizarrepieceofnewssinkin.

"Youknow,youreallyshouldn'tbespyingonpeople,"Isay,moreconcernedwithherspyingonme

thananyofmyoldfriends."It'skindofrude,don'tyouthink?"Ileavemybagontomyshoulderandhead
forthedoor.

Rileylaughs."Don'tberidiculous.It'sgoodtokeepupwithpeoplefromtheoldneighborhood."
'Areyoucoming?"Iask,turningimpatiently.
"Yup,andIcallshotgun!"shesays,slippingrightpastmeandhoppingontothebanister,herblack

Zorrocapefloatingonairassheslidesallthewaydown.

BythetimeIgettoMiles's,he'swaitingoutside,thumbstappinghisSidekick."Just—one—second

okay,done!"Heslipsontothepassengerseatandpeerscloselyatme."Now—tellmeeverything!Startto
finish.Iwantallthedirtydetails,leavenothingout!"

"What're you talking about?" I back out of his driveway and onto the street, shooting a warning

glanceatRileywho'sperchedonhisknee,blowingonhisfaceandlaughingwhenhetriestoadjusttheair
vent.

Miles looks at me and shakes his head. "hello? Damen? I heard you guys were macking in the

moonlight,makingoutbythepool,hookingupunderthemoon'ssilvery—"

"Whereareyougoingwiththis?"Iask,eventhoughIalreadyknow,buthopingthere'ssomewayto

stophim.

"Listen, word's out so don't even try to deny it. And I would've called you yesterday but my dad

confiscatedmyphoneanddraggedmetothebattingcages,sohecouldwatchmeswinglikeagirl."He
laughs.

"Youshould'veseenme,Itotallycampeditupandhewashorrified!That'llteachhim.Butanyway,

back to you. Come on, the divulging starts now. Tell me everything," he says, turning toward me and
noddingimpatiently."Wasitasawesomeaswealldreameditwouldbe?"

I shrug, glancing at Riley and warning her with my eyes to either cease and desist or disappear.

"Sorrytodisappointyou,"Ifinallysay."Butthere'snothingtotell."

"That'snotwhatIheard.Havensaid.Ipressmylipsandshakemyhead.JustbecauseIalreadyknow

whatHavensaiddoesn'tmeanIwanttohearitspokenoutloud.SoIcuthimoffwhenIsay,"Okayfine,

wekissed.Butjustonce."Icanfeelhimlookingatme,browsraised,lipssmirkedinsuspicion."Maybe
twice.Idon'tknow,it'snotlikeIcounted,"Imumble,lyinglikeared-faced,sweatypalmed,shifty-eyed
amateur, and hoping he doesn't notice. Because the truth is I've replayed that kiss so many times it's
tattooedonmybrain.

"And?"hesays,impatientformore.
"And—nothing,"Isay,relievedwhenIglanceathimandseeRiley'sgone.
"He didn't call? Or text? Or e-mail? Or drop by?" Miles gasps, visibly upset, wondering what it

meansnotonlyforme,butthefutureofourgroup.

Ishakemyheadandstarestraightahead,angrywithmyselffornotdealingwithitbetter,hatingthe

waymythroat'sgonealltightasmyeyesstarttosting.

"Butwhatdidhesay?Whenhelefttheparty,Imean?Whatwerehisverylastwords?"Milesasks,

determinedtofindsomerayofhopeinthisbleakandbitterlandscape.

I turn at the light, remembering our strange and sudden good bye at the door. Then I face Miles,

swallowhard,andsay,"Hesaid,'souvenir?''

And the moment it's out, I know it's a really bad sign. Nobody takes a souvenir from a place they

plantofrequent.Mileslooksatme,hiseyesexpressingthewordshislipshaverefused.

"Tellmeaboutit,"Isay,shakingmyheadasIpullintothelot.
EventhoughI'mfullycommittedtonotthinkingaboutDamen,Ican'thelpbutfeeldisappointedwhen

IgettoEnglishandseehe'snotthere.Which,ofcourse,makesmethinkabouthimeventhatmuchmore,
untilI'mteeteringontheedgeofobsession.

Imean,justbecauseourkissseemedlikesomethingmorethanjustarandomhookupdoesn'tmeanhe

feltthesameway.Andjustbecauseitfeltsolidandtrueandtranscendenttomedoesn'tmeanhewasinon
it too. Because no matter how hard I try, I can't shake the image of him and Drina standing together, a
perfect Count Fersen with an idyllic Marie. While I stood on the sidelines all shiny and poufy like the
world'sbiggestwannabe.

I'm just about to click on my iPod when Stacia and Damen burst through the door. Laughing and

smiling,shouldersnearlytouching,twosinglewhiterosebudsclutchedinherhand.Andwhenheleaves
heratherdeskandheadstowardme,IfumblewithsomepapersandpretendIdidn'tsee.

"Hey,"hesays,slidingontohisseat.Actinglikeeverything'sperfectlynormaI.Likehedidn'tpulla

grope-and-runlessthanforty-eighthoursbefore.

Iplatemycheekonmypalmandforcemyfaceintoayawn,hopingtocomeoffasbored,tired,worn

outfrom activities hecouldn't begin toimagine, doodling on apiece of notebookpaper with fingers so
shaky my pen slips right out of my hand. I bend down to retrieve it, and when I come back up I find a
singleredtulipontopofmydesk.

"What happened? You run out of white rosebuds?" I ask, flipping through books and papers, as

thoughI'vesomethingimportanttodo.

"Iwouldnevergiveyouarosebud,"hesays,hiseyessearchingformine.
ButIrefusetomeethisgaze,refusetogetsuckedintohissadisticlittlegame.Ijustgrabmybagand

pretendtosearchforsomethinginside,cursingundermybreathwhenIfinditstuffedfulloftulips.

"You'restrictlyatulipgirl—aredtulipgirl."Hesmiles.
"Howexcitingforme,"Imumble,droppingmybagtothegroundandscootingtothefarthestpartof

myseat,havingnoideawhatanyofitcouldpossiblymean.

BythetimeIgettoourlunchtable,I'masweatymess.WonderingifDamenwillbethere,ifHaven

willbetherebecauseeventhoughIhaven'tseenorspokentohersinceSaturdaynight,I'mwillingtobet
she still hates me. But despite spending all of third period chemistry practicing an entire speech in my

head,thesecondIseeher,I'velostallthewords.

"Well,lookwho'shere,"Havensays,gazingatme.IslideontothebenchbesideMileswho'sfartoo

busy texting to even notice my existence, and I can't help but wonder if I should try to find some new
friends—notthatanyonewouldhaveme."IwasjusttellingMileshowhetotallymissedoutonNocturne,
onlyhe'sdeterminedtoignoreme."Shescowls.

"OnlybecauseIwasforcedtolistentoitallthroughhistory,andthenyoustillweren'tfinishedand

youmademelatetoSpanish."Heshakeshisheadandcontinuesthumbthumping.

Havenshrugs."You'rejustjealousyoumissedout."Thenlookingatme,shetriestoretreat."Notthat

your party wasn't cool or anything, because it was, totally cool. It's just—this was more my scene, you
know?Imean,youunderstand,right?"

Ipolishmyappleagainstmysleeveandshrug,reluctanttohearanymorethanIalreadyhaveabout

Nocturne,herscene,orDrina.ButwhenIfinallydolookather,I'mstartledtoseehowherusualyellow
contactshavebeenswappedforabrand-newgreen.Agreensofamiliaritrobsmeofbreath.Agreenthat
canonlybedescribedas—Drinagreen.

"Youshould'veseenit,therewasthishugelonglineoutfront,butthesecondtheysawDrina,theylet

usrightin.Wedidn'tevenhavetopay!Notforanything,thewholenightwascomplete!Ievencrashedin
herroom.She'sstayinginthisamazingsuiteattheSt.Regisuntilshefindsamorepermanentplace.You
shouldseeit:oceanview,Jacuzzitub,rockingmini-bar,theworks!"Shelooksatme,emeraldeyeswide
withexcitement,waitingforanenthusiasticresponseIjustcan'tprovide.

Ipressmylipstogetherandtakeintherestofherappearance,noticinghowhereyelinerissofter,

smokier,morelikeDrina's,andhowherbloodredlipstickhasbeenswappedforalighter,rosier,Drina-
likeshade.Evenherhair,whichshe'sironedstraightforaslongasI'veknownher,isnowsoftandwavy
andstyledlikeDrina's.Andherdressisfitted,silky,andvintage,likesomethingDrinamightwear.

"So where's Damen?" Haven looks at me as though I should know. I take a bite of my apple and

shrug.

"What happened? I thought you guys hooked up?" she asks, refusing to let it go. And before I can

answer,MileslooksupfromhisSidekickandshootsherthelook—theonewiththedirecttranslationof:
Cautionallyewhoenter.

She glances from Miles to me, then shakes her head and sighs."Whatever. I just want you to know

thatI'mtotallycoolwithit,sonoworries,okay?AndI'msorryifIgotalittleweirdonyou."Sheshrugs.
"ButI'mtotallyoveritnow.Seriously.Pinky-swear."

Ireluctantlycurlmypinkyaroundhersandtuneintoherenergy.AndI'mcompletelyamazedtosee

thatshereallydoesmeanit.Imean,justthisweekendshe'dpeggedmeasPublicEnemy#1,butnowshe's
clearlynotbothered,thoughIcan'treallyseewhy.

"Haven—" I start, wondering if I should really do this, but then figuring, oh, what the hell, I have

nothingtolose.Shelooksatme,smiling,waiting.

"Um,whenyouguyswentto—Nocturne,didyoumaybebychance—happentorunintoDamen?"I

press my lips and wait, feeling Miles give me a sharp look, while Haven just stares at me, clearly
confused."Becausethethingis,heleftshortlyafteryouguys—soIthoughtmaybe—"

Sheshakesherheadandshrugs."Nope,neversawhim,"shesays,removingadaboffrostingfrom

herlipwiththetipofhertongue.

AndeventhoughIknowbetter,Ichoosethatmomenttotakeavisualjourneythroughthelunchtable

caste system, the alphabetical hierarchy, starting with our lowly table Z and working toward A.
WonderingifI'llfindDamenandStaciafrolickinginafieldofrosebuds,orengaginginsomeothersordid
actI'drathernotsee.Buteventhoughit'sbusinessasusualoverthere,witheveryoneuptothesameold

antics,fortodayatleast,it'sflowerfree.IguessbecauseDamen'snotthere.

ChapterFifteen

I'd just fallen asleep when Damen calls. And even though I'd spent the last two days convincing

myselfnottolikehim,thesecondIhearhisvoice,Isurrender.

"Isittoolate?"
Isquintattheglowinggreennumbersonmyalarmclock,confirmingitis,butanswering,
"No,it'sokay."
"Wereyouasleep?"
"Almost."Ipropmypillowsagainstmycloth-coveredheadboard,thenleanbackagainstthem.
"IwaswonderingifIcouldcomeover?"
Igazeattheclockagain,butonlytoprovehisquestioniscrazy."Probablynotsuchagoodidea,"I

tellhim,whichisfollowedbysuchaprolongedsilenceI'msurehe'shungup.

"I'msorryImissedyouatlunch,"hefinallysays."Arttoo.IleftrightafterEnglish."
"Um, okay," I mumble, unsure how to respond, since it's not like we're a couple, it's not like he's

accountabletome.

"Areyousureit'stoolate?"heasks,histonedeepandpersuasive.'I'dreallyliketoseeyou.Iwon't

staylong."

Ismile,thrilledwiththistinyshiftinpower,tobecallingtheshotsforachange,andallowingmyself

amentalhigh-fivewhenIsay,"TomorrowinEnglishworksforme."

"HowaboutIdriveyoutoschool?"heasks,hisvoicenearlyconvincingmetoforgetaboutStacia,

Drina,hishastyretreat,everything—justcleantheslate,letbygonesbebygones,startalloveragain.ButI
haven't come this far to give up so easily. So I force the words from my lips when I say, "Miles and I
carpool.SoI'lljustseeyouinEnglish."Alltellknowingbetterthantoriskhischangingmymind,Isnap
myphoneshutandtossitacrosstheroom.

ThenextmorningwhenRileyPopsin,shestandsbeforemeandsays,"Stillcranky?"
Irollmyeyes.
"I'lltakethatasayes."Shelaughs,hoppingontopofmydresserandkickingherheelsagainstthe

drawers.

"So,whoareyoudressedastoday?"Itossapileofbooksintomybagandglanceathertightbodice,

fullskirt,andcascadingbrownhair.

"ElizabethSwann."Shesmiles.
Isquint,tryingtorememberthatname."Pirates?"
"Duh."Shecrosseshereyesandsticksouthertongue."Sowhat'supwithyouandCountFersen?"

Islingmybagovermyshoulderandheadforthedoor,determinedtoignorethequestionwhenIcall,

"Coming?"

Sheshakesherhead."Nottoday.Ihaveanappointment."
Ileanagainstthedoorjambandsquint."Whatdoyoumeanby'appointment'?"
Butshejustshakesherheadandhopsoffthedresser.
"Noneofyourbeeswax."Shelaughs,walkingstraightthroughthewallanddisappearing.
Since Miles was funning late, I end up running late too, and by the time we make it to school, the

parkinglotiscompletelyfull.Allexceptfortheverybest,mostsoughtafterspace.

The one on the very end. The one closest to the gate.The one that just happens to be right next to

Damen's.

"Howdidyoudoit?"Milesasks,grabbinghisbooksandclimbingoutofmytinyredcar,gazingat

Damenlikehe'stheworld'ssexiestmagicact.

"Dowhat?"Damenasks,gazingatme.
"Savethespot.Youhavetogetherelike,waybeforetheschoolyearevenbeginstosnatchthisone."
Damenlaughs,hiseyessearchingmine.ButIjustnodlikehe'smypharmacistormailman,notthe

guyI'vebeenobsessingoversincethemomentIsawhim,

"Bell'sgonnaring,"Isay,rushingpastthegateandheadingtowardclass,noticinghowhemovesso

quicklyhebeatsmetothedoorwithnovisibleeffort.

IstormtowardHonorandStacia,purposelykickingStacia'sbagwhenshegazesatDamenandsays,
"Hey,where'smyrosebud?"
Thenregrettingitthesecondheanswers,"Sorry,nottoday."Heslidesontohisseatandgivesmean

amusedlook."Someone'sinafoulmood."Helaughs.

ButIjustshruganddropmybagtothefloor.
"What'stherush?"Heleanstowardme."Mr.Robinsstayedhome."
I turn. "How'd you—" but then I stop before I can finish. I mean, how can Damen possibly know

whatIknow—thatMr.Robinsisstillathome,stillhungover,stillgrievingthewifeanddaughterwho
recentlylefthim?

"IsawthesubstitutewhileIwaswaitingforyou."Hesmiles.
"Shelookedalittlelost,soIescortedhertotheteachers'lounge,butsheseemedsoconfusedshe'll

probablyendupinthesciencelabinstead."

AndthesecondhesaysitIknowthatit'strue,havingjustseenherenteringthewrongclass,having

mistakenitforourroom.

"Sotellme.WhathaveIdonetoangeryouso?"
IglanceupasStaciawhispersinHonor'sear,watchingastheyshaketheirheadsandglareatme.
"Ignorethem,they'reidiots,"Damenwhispers,leaningtowardmeandplacinghishandovermine.'

I'msorryIhaven'tbeenaroundmuch.Ihadavisitor.Icouldn'tgetaway."

"You mean Drina?" And the moment it's out, I cringe at how awful and jealous I sound. Wishing I

couldbecool,calm,andcollected,actasthoughIdidn'tevennoticehoweverythingchangedthemoment
sheappeared.Butthetruthis,that'sprettymuchimpossibleforme,sinceI'mmuchclosertoparanoidthan
naive.

"Ever—"hestarts.ButsinceI'vealreadystarted,Imayaswellcontinue.
"HaveyouseenHavenlately?She'slikeaDrinaMini-Me.Shedresseslikeher,actslikeher,even

hasthesameeyecolor.Seriously,stopbythelunchtablesometime,you'llsee."Iglareathim,asthough
he'sresponsible,asthoughit'shisfault.Butthemomentoureyesmeet,I'mrightbackunderhisspell,a
helplesshunkofsteeltohisirresistiblemagnet.

Hetakesadeepbreaththenshakeshisheadashesays,
"Ever,it'snotwhatyouthink."
Ipullawayandpressmylipstogether.YouhavenoideawhatIthink.
"Letmemakeituptoyou.Letmetakeyouout,somewherespecial,please?"
Icanfeelthewarmthofhisgazeonmyskin,butIwon'trisktryingtomeetit.Iwanthimtowonder,

todoubt.IwanttodragitoutforaslongasIpossiblycan.SoIshiftinmyseat,glanceathimbriefly,and
say,'We'llsee."

WhenIexitfourth-periodhistory,Dameniswaitingoutsidethedoor.Andassuminghejustwantsto

walkmetothelunchtable,Isay,"Letmejustdropmybaginmylockerbeforeweheadover."

"Noneed."Hesmiles,securinghisarmaroundmywaist.
"Thesurprisestartsnow"
"Surprise?" And when I look into his eyes, the whole world shrinks, until it's just me and him,

surroundedbystatic.

Hesmiles."Youknow,Itakeyousomewherespecial—sospecialyouforgivemytransgressions."
"Andwhataboutourclasses?Wejustblowofftherestoftheday?"Ifoldmyarmsacrossmychest,

thoughit'smostlyforshowHelaughsandleanstowardme,hislipsgrazingthesideofmyneckasthey
formtheword—Yes.AndasIpullawayI'mamazedtohearmyselfanswerwithhowinsteadofno.

"Noworries."Hesmiles,squeezingmyhandasheleadsmethroughthegate."You'llalwaysbesafe

withme."

ChapterSixteen

"Disneyland?"Iclimboutofmycarandgazeathiminshock.OutofalltheplacesIthoughtwe'dend

up,thisnevercrackedthelist.

"Ihearit'sthehappiestplaceonearth"Helaughs."Haveyoubeen?"
Ishakemyhead.
"Good,thenI'llbeyourguide."Heslipshisarmthroughmineandleadsmethroughthegates,andas

wewanderdownMainStreetItrytoimaginehimcomingherebefore.He'ssosleek,sosophisticated,so
sexy,sosmooth—it'shardtoimaginehimtrollingaplacewhereMickeyMouserules.

"It'salwaysbetterduringtheweekwhenit'snotsocrowded,"hesays,crossingthestreet."Comeon,

I'llshowyouNewOrleans,it'smyfavoritepart."

"You come here enough to have favorites?" I stop in the middle of the street and stare at him. "I

thoughtyoujustmovedhere?"

Helaughs."Ididjustmovehere.Butthatdoesn'tmeanIhaven'tbeen,"hesays,pullingmetoward

theHauntedMansion.

After the Haunted Mansion we head for the Pirates ride, and when that's over, he looks at me and

says,"Sowhichone'syourfavorite?"

"Urn,Pirates."Inod."Ithink."Helooksatme.
"Well, they're both pretty cool." I shrug. "But Pirates has Johnny Depp, so that kind of gives it an

unfairadvantage,don'tyouthink?"

"JohnnyDepp?Sothat'swhatI'mupagainst?"Heraisesabrow.
Ishrug,takinginDamen'sdarkjeans,blacklong-sleevedTshirt,andthoseboots,hiseasygoodlooks

dwarfingeveryHollywoodactorIcanthinkof,thoughit'snotlikeI'lladmitthat.

"Wanna go again?" he asks, dark eyes flashing. So we do. And then we head back to the Haunted

Mansion.

Andwhenwereachthepartattheend,wheretheghostshitcharideinyourcar,Ihalfexpecttosee

Riley scrunched in between us, laughing and waving and clowning around. But instead, it's just one of
thosecartoonDisneyghosts,andIrememberRiley'sappointmentandfigureshemustbetoobusy.

Afteryetanothergoonthoserides,weendupatawaterfronttableintheBlueBayou,therestaurant

insidethePiratesride.AndasIsipmyicedteaIlookathimandsay,

"Okay,Ihappentoknowthisisareallybigparkwithmorethantworides.Ridesthathavenothingto

dowithpiratesorghosts."

"I heard that too." He smiles, spearing calamari with his fork and offering it to me. "They used to

havethisonecalledMissiontoMars.Itwasknownasthemake-outride,mostlybecauseitwasverydark
inside."

"Is it still here?" I ask, my face turning every shade of crimson when I realize how eager I sound.

"NotthatIwanttorideitoranything.Iwasjustcurious."

Helooksatme,hisfaceclearlyamused.Thenheshakeshisheadandsays,"No,itclosedalongtime

ago."

"Soyouweregoingonthemake-outridewhenyouwerewhat—two?"Iask,reachingforasausage-

stuffedmushroomandhopingI'lllikeit.

"Notme."Hesmiles."Thatwaswaybeforemytime."
NormallyI'ddoanythingtoavoidaplacelikethis.Aplacesocongestedwiththerandomenergyof

people, their bright swirling auras, their odd collection of thoughts. But it's different with Damen,
effortless,pleasant.Becausewheneverwetouch,wheneverhespeaks,it'slikewe'retheonlyoneshere.

Afterlunch,westrollaroundthepark,goingonallthefastridesandavoidingthewaterrides,orat

leasttheoneswhereyougetsoaked.Andwhenitgetsdark,heleadsmeovertoSleepingBeautyCastle,
wherewestopnearthemoatandwaitforthefireworksshowtobegin.

"So,amIforgiven?"heasks,armssnakingaroundmywaist,teethnippingatmyneck,myjaw,my

ear. The sudden burst of fireworks, their booming crackle and snap, seem faint and far away, as our
bodiespresstogetherandhislipsmoveagainstmine.

"Look," he whispers, pulling away and pointing toward the expanse of night sky, a profusion of

purplecolorwheels,goldenwaterfalls,silverfountains,pinkchrysanthemums,andforthegrandfinale—
adozenredtulips.Allofitflaringandblasting,insuchquicksuccessionitvibratestheconcreteunder
ourfeet.

Wait—redtulips?
IglanceatDamen,eyesfullofquestions,buthejustsmilesandnodstowardthesky,andeventhough

theedgesaresparkingandfading,thememoryissolid,imprintedonmymind.

Thenhepullsmeclose,lipstomyearwhenhesays,
"Show'sover,fatladysang."
"YoucallingTinkerbellfat?"Ilaughashetakesmyhandandleadsmethroughthegatesandbackto

ourcars.

I climb into my Miata and get settled in, smiling as he leans through my window and says,"Don't

worry,there'llbemoredayslikethis.NexttimeI'lltakeyoutoCaliforniaAdventure."

"IthoughtwejusthadaCaliforniaadventure."Ilaugh,amazedbythewayhealwaysseemstoknow

justwhatI'mthinkingbeforeI'veevenhadachancetoutterthewords.

"ShouldIfollowyouagain?"Islipmykeyintheignitionandstarttheengine.
Heshakeshishead."I'llfollowyou."Hesmiles."Gottoseeyouhomesafely."
I pull out of the lot, merge onto the southbound freeway, and head home. And when I check the

rearview mirror, I can't help but smile when I see Damen right there behind me. I have a boyfriend! A
gorgeous, sexy, smart, charming boyfriend! One who makes me feel normal again. One who makes me
forgetthatI'mnot.Ireachovertothepassengerseatandpluckmynewsweatshirtfromitsbag,running
myfingersovertheMickeyMouseappliqueonthefront,rememberingthemomentDamenchoseitforme.

"Noticehowthisonedoesn'thaveahood,"he'dsaid,holdingitagainstme,andestimatingthefit.
"Whatareyoutryingtosay?"Isquintedintothemirror,wonderingifhehatesmylookasmuchas

Rileythinks.

But he just shrugged. "What can I say? I prefer you hoodless." I smile at the memory, the way he

kissedmeaswestoodinlinetopay,thewarm,sweetfeelofhislipsonmine.

Andwhenmycellphonerings,IglanceinmyrearviewmirrortoseeDamenholdinghis.
"Hey,"Isay,loweringmyvoicesothatit'shuskyanddeep.
"Saveit,"Havensays."Sorrytodisappointyou,butit'sjustlittleoleme."
"Oh,sowhat'sup?"Iask,signalingmyintendedlanechangesothatDamencanfollow,Onlyhe'sno

longerthere.Iglancebetweenmysideandrearviewmirrors,franticallyscanningallfourlanes,butstill,
noDamen.

"Are you even listening to me?" Haven asks, clearly annoyed. "Sorry, what?" I ease up on the gas

and look over my shoulder, searching for Damen's black BMW as someone in a monster truck passes,
honks,andflipsmethebird.

"IsaidEvangelineismissing!"
"Whatdoyoumean'missing'?"Iask,hesitatingforaslongasIcanbeforemergingontotheI33,with

Damenstillnowhereinsight,eventhoughI'msurehedidn'tpassme.

"Icalledhercellabunchoftimesandshedidn'tpickup."And,"Isay,anxioustogetthroughthis

call-screeningstorysoIcangetbacktomyownmissingperson'scase.

"And,notonlydoesshenotanswer,notonlyisshenotinherapartment,butnobody'sseenhersince

Halloween."

"Whatdoyoumean?"Icheckmysidemirrors,myrearviewmirrors,andglanceovereachshoulder,

butstillcomeupempty."Didn'tshegohomewithyouguys?"

"Notexactly,"Havensays,hervoicesmall,contrite.
Andaftertwomorecarshonkandgivemethefinger,Igiveup.PromisingmyselfthatassoonasI'm

donewithHavenI'llcallDamenonhiscellandsortitallout.

"Hel-Io?"shesays,practicallyshouting."Imean,jeez,ifyou'retoobusyforme,thenjustsayso.I

canalwayscalllMiles,youknow"

Itakeadeepbreath,strivingforpatience.
"Haven,I'msorry,okay?I'mtryingtodriveandI'malittledistracted.Besides,youandIbothknow

Milesisstillatactingclass,whichiswhyyoucalledme."Imergeovertothefarleftlane,determinedto
punchitandgethomeasquicklyasIcan.

"Whatever,"shemumbles.'Anyway,Ihaven'texactlytoldyouthisyet,but,well,DrinaandIkindof

leftwithouther."

"Youwhat?"
"Youknow,atNocturne.Shejustsortof—disappeared.Imean,welookedeverywhere,butwejust

couldn'tfindher.Sowe'figuredshemetsomeone,whichbelieveme,isnotoutofcharacter,andthen—
well,wesortof—left."

"YouleftherinL.A.?OnHalloweennight?Wheneveryfreakinthecityisontheloose?"
And the second it's out of my mouth, I see it—the three of them in some dark, seamy club, Drina

leadingHaventotheVIProomforadrink,purposelyeludingEvangeline.Andeventhoughitgoesblank
afterthat,Idefinitelydidn'tseeanyguy.

"What were we supposed to do? I mean, I don't know if you know this, but she's eighteen, which

meansshecanprettymuchdowhatshewants.Besides,Drinasaidshe'dkeepaneyeonher,butthenshe
losttrackofhertoo.Ijustgotoffthephonewithher,shefeelsawful."

"Drinafeelsawful?"Irollmyeyes,findingthathardtobelieve.Drinadoesn'tseemlikethetypeto

feelmuchofanything,muchlessremorse.

"What'sthatsupposedtomean?Youdon'tevenknowher."
Ipress my lipsand accelerate hard,partly because I knowthis strip ofroad is currently cop-free,

and partly because I want to outrun Haven, Drina, Evangeline, and Damen's strange disappearance,

everything,allofit—eventhoughIknowthatIcan't.

"Sorry,"Ifinallymumble,liftingmyfootandeasingintoaregularspeed.
"Whatever.Ijust—Ifeelsoawful,andIdon'tknowwhattodo..."
"Didyoucallherparents?"Iask,eventhoughIjustsensedtheanswer.
"Hermom'sadrunk,livesinArizonasomewhere,andherdadskippedoutwhenshewasstillinthe

womb.Andtrustme,herlandlordjustwantsherstuffclearedoutsohecanturntheapartment.Weeven
filedapolicereport,buttheydidn'tseemoverlyconcerned."

"Iknow"Isay,adjustingmylightsforthedark,canyonroute.
"Whatdoyoumeanyouknow?"
"ImeanIknowhowyoumustfeel."Iscrambletocover.
Shesighs."Sowhereareyou?Whyweren'tyouatlunch?"
'TminLagunaCanyon,onmywayhomefromDisneyland.Damentookme."Ismileatthememory,

thoughitturnsprettyquick.

"Omigodthat'ssobizarre,"Havensays.
"Tellme,"Iagree,stillnotusedtotheideaofhimkickingitintheMagicKingdomevenafterseeing

itwithmyowneyes.

"No,ImeanDrinawenttoo.Saidshehasn'tbeeninyearsandwantedtoseehowit'schanged.Isn't

thatwild?Didyouguysrunintoher?"

"Um, no," I say, trying to sound matter of fact despite my churning stomach, sweaty palms, and

overwhelmingfeelingofdread.

"Huh.Weird.Butthenagain,itisprettyhugeandcrowded."
Shelaughs.
''Yeah,yeahitis,"Isay."Listen,Igottago,seeyoutomorrow?"Andbeforeshecanevenrespond,I

pulltothesideoftheroadandparkbythecurb,searchingmycalllistforDamen'snumber,andpounding
hardonthewheelwhenIseeit'smarkedprivate.

Someboyfriend.Idon'tevenhavehisphonenumber,muchlessknowwherehelives.

ChapterSeventeen

Lastnight,whenDamenfinallycalled(atleastIassumeditwashimsincethedisplayreadprivate),

Iletitgostraightintovoicemail.Andthismorning,whileI'mgettingreadyforschool,Ideleteitwithout
evenlistening.

"Aren'tyouatleastcurious?"Rileyasks,spinningaroundinmydeskchair,herslicked-backhairand

Matrixcostumeashinyblackblur.

"No."IglareattheMickeyMousesweatshirtstillinitsbag,thenreachforonethathedidn'tbuyme.
"Well,youcould'veletmelisten,soIcouldgiveyouthegist."
"Doubleno."Itwistmyhairintoabun,thenstabitwithapenciltoholditinplace.
"Well,don'ttakeitoutonyourhair.Imean,jeez,what'diteverdotoyou?"Shelaughs.ButwhenI

don'trespondshelooksatmeandsays,"Idon'tgetyou.Whyareyoualwayssoangry?Soyoulosthimon
thefreeway,andheforgottogiveyouhisnumber.Bigdeal.Imean,whendidyougetsodangparanoid?"

Ishakemyheadandturnaway,knowingshe'sright.Iamangry.Andparanoid.Andthingsfarworse

than that. Just your everyday, garden-variety, easily annoyed, thoughthearing, aura seeing, spirit-sensing
freak. But what she doesn't know is that there's more to the story than I'm willing to share. Like Drina
trailingustoDisneyland.AndhowDamenalwaysdisappearswhenevershe'snear.

IturnbacktoRiley,shakingmyheadasItakeinhersleekshinycostume.
"HowlongareyougoingtoplayHalloween?"
Shefoldsherarmsandpouts."ForaslongasIwant."
AndwhenIseeherbottomlipquiver,Ifeelliketheworld'sbiggestgrouch.
"Look,I'm sorry," Isay, grabbing mybag and slinging itover my shoulder,wishing my life would

juststabilize,findsomekindofbalance.

"Noyou'renot."Sheglaresatme."It'ssoobviousyou'renot."
"Riley,Iam,really.Andbelieveme,Idon'twanttofight."Sheshakesherheadandgazesupatthe

ceiling,tappingherfootagainstthecarpetedfloor."Areyoucoming?"Iheadforthedoor,butsherefuses
toanswer.SoItakeadeepbreath,andsay,"Comeon,Riley.YouknowIcan'taffordtobelate.Please
makeupyourmind."

Shecloseshereyesandshakesherheadandwhenshelooksatmeagain,hereyeshavegonered."I

don'thavetobehere,youknow.

I grip the door handle, needing to leave yet knowing I can't, not after she's said that. "What're you

talkingabout?"

"Imean,here!Allofthis!Youandme.Ourlittlevisits.Idon'thavetodothis."

Istareather,mystomachcurling,willinghertostop,notwantingtohearanymore.I'vegottenso

usedtoherpresenceIneverconsideredthealternative,thattheremightbesomeplaceelseshe'dratherbe.

"But—but I thought you liked being here?" I say, my throat tight and sore, my voice betraying my

panic.

"Idolikebeinghere.But,well,maybeit'snottherightthing.MaybeIshouldbesomewhereelse!

Didyoueverthinkofthat?"She'slookingatme,hereyesfullofanguishandconfusion,andeventhough
I'mnowofficiallylateforschool,there'snowaycanleave.

"Riley—I—whatexactlydoyoumean?"Iask,wishingIcouldrewindthiswholemorningandstart

overagain.

"Well,Avasays—"
"Ava?"Myeyespracticallybugoutofmyhead.
"Yeah,youknow,thepsychic,fromtheHalloweenparty?Theonewhocouldseeme?"
Ishakemyheadandopenthedoor,lookingovermyshouldertosay,"Ihatetobreakittoyou,but

Ava'saquack.Aphony.Acharlatan.Aconartist!Youshouldn'tlistentoawordshesays.She'scrazy!"

ButRileyjustshrugs,hereyesonmine."Shesaidsomereallyinterestingthings."
Andhervoicebearssomuchpainandworry,I'llsayanythingtomakeitgoaway."Listen."Ipeer

downthehall,eventhoughIknowSabine'snolongerhere."Idon'twanttohearaboutAva.Imean,ifyou
wanttovisither,evenaftereverythingIjusttoldyou,thenfine,it'snotlikeIcanstopyou.Justremember
that Ava doesn't know us. And she has absolutely no right to judge us or the fact that we like to hang
together.It'snoneofherbusiness.It'sourbusiness."AndwhenIlookather,Iseethathereyesarestill
wide,herlipstillquivering,andmyheartsinksrighttothefloor.

"Ireallyneedtoleave,soareyoucomingornot?"Iwhisper.
"Not."Sheglares.
SinceMileswassmartenoughnottohangoutandwait,Idrivetoschoolalone.Andeventhoughthe

bellalreadyrang,Damenisthere,waitingnexttohiscar,inthesecondbestspotnexttomine.

"Hey,"hesays,comingaroundtomysideandleaninginforakiss.ButIjustgrabmybagandrace

forthegate.

"I'msorryIlostyouyesterday.Icalledyourcellbutyoudidn'tanswer."Hetrailsalongsideme.
IgrabholdofthecoldironbarsandshakethemashardasIcan.Butwhentheydon'tevenbudge,I

closemyeyesandpressmyforeheadagainstthem,knowingI'mtoolate,it'suseless.

"Didyougetmymessage?"
Iletgoofthegateandheadfortheoffice,envisioningtheawfulmomentwhenI'llstepinsideandget

nailedforyesterday'sditchingandtoday'stardy.

"What'swrong?"heasks,grabbingholdofmyhandandturningmyinsidestowarmmoltenliquid."I

thoughtwehadfun.Ithoughtyouenjoyedit?"

Ileanagainstthelowbrickwallandsigh.Feelingrubbery,weak,completelydefenseless.
"Orwereyoujusthumoringme?"Hesqueezesmyhand,hiseyesbeggingmenottobemad.Andjust

asIstarttofold,justwhenI'vealmostswallowedhisbait,Idrophishandandmoveaway.Wincingas
memories of Haven, our phone call, and his strange disappearance on the freeway rush over me like a
tidalwave.

"DidyouknowDrinawenttoDisneylandtoo?"Isay,andthesecondIsayit,IrealizehowpettyI

sound.Yetnowthatit'soutthere,Imayaswellcontinue."IstheresomethingIshouldknow?Something
youneedtotellme?"Ipressmylipstogetherandbracefortheworst.

Buthejustlooksatme,gazingintomyeyesashesays,
"I'mnotinterestedinDrina.I'monlyinterestedinyou."

Istareattheground,wantingtobelieve,wishingitwereonlythateasy.Butwhenhetakesmyhand

again,Irealizeitisthateasy,becauseallofmydoubtsjustsliprightaway.

"Sonow'sthepartwhenyoutellmeyoufeelthesameway,"hesays,gazingatme.
Ihesitate,myheartbeatsosevereI'msurehecanhearit.ButwhenIpausefortoolong,themoment

flees,andheslipshisarmaroundmywaistandleadsmebacktothegate.

"That'sokay."Hesmiles."Takeyourtime.There'snorush,noexpirationdate."Helaughs."Butfor

now,let'sgetyoutoclass."

"But we have to go through the office." I stop in my tracks and squint at him. "The gate's locked,

remember?"

Heshakeshishead."Ever,thegate'snotlocked."
"Uh,sorry,butIjusttriedtoopenit.It'slocked,"Iremindhim.
Hesmiles."Willyoutrustme?"
Ilookathim."What'sitgoingtocostyou?Afewsteps?
Someadditionaltardyminutes?"
Iglancebetweentheofficeandhim,thenIshakemyheadandfollow,allthewaybacktothegate

thatissomehow,inexplicablyopen.

"But I saw it! And you saw it too!" I face him, not understanding how any of this could have

happened."Ievenshookthem,ashardasIcould,andtheywouldn'tbudgeaninch."

Buthejustkissesmycheekandushersmethrough,
laughingashesays,"Goon.Anddon'tworry,Mr.Robinsisincapacitatedandthesub'sinadaze.

You'llbefine."

"You'renotcoming?"Iask,thatneedy,panickyfeelingbuildinginsidemeagain.Buthejustshrugs.

'Imemancipated.IdowhatIwant."

"Yeah,but—"Istop,realizinghisphonenumber'snottheonlythingmissing.Ibarelyevenknowthis

guy.AndIcan'thelpbutwonderhowhecanpossiblymakemefeelsogood,sonormal,wheneverything
about him is so abnormal. Though it's not until I've turned away that I realize he's yet to explain what
happenedonthefreewaylastnight.

ButbeforeIcanaskhe'srighttherebesideme,takingmyhandashesays,"Myneighborcalled.My

sprinklersfailedandmyyardwasflooding.Itriedtogetyourattentionbutyouwereonthephone,andI
didn'twanttobotheryou."

Igazedownatourhands,bronzeandpale,strongandfrail,suchanunlikelypair."Nowgo.I'llsee

youafterschool,Ipromise."Hesmiles,pluckingaSingleredtulipfromthebackofmyear.

Usually,Itrynottodwellonmyoldlife.Itrynottothinkaboutmyoldhouse,myoldfriends,myold

family, my old self. And even though I've gotten pretty good at heading off that particular storm,
recognizingthesigns—thestingingeyes,theshortnessofbreath,theoverwhelmingfeelingofhollowness
anddespair—beforetheycantakehold,sometimesitjusthits,withoutwarning,withouttimetoprepare.
AndallIcandowhenthathappensiscurlupinaballandwaitforittopass...whichisprettyhardtodo
inthemiddleofhistoryclass.

SowhileMr.MunozisgoingonandonaboutNapoleon,mythroatdoses,mystomachclenches,and

myeyesstarttosearsoabruptly,Iboltfrommyseatandraceforthedoor,oblivioustothesoundofmy
teachercallingmeback,immunetomyclassmates'derisivelaugh.

Iturnthecorner,blindedbytears,gaspingforair,myinsidesfeelingempty,cleanedout,ahollow

shellfoldinginonitself.AndbythetimeIseeStaciait'swaytoolate,andIknockherwithsuchspeed
andforceshecrashestothegroundandripsaholeinherdress.

"Whatthe—"Shegapesathersplayedlimbsandtorndress,beforelevelinghergazerightonme.

"Youfuckingrippedit,youfreak!"Shepokesherfistthroughthetear,displayingthedamage.Andeven
thoughIfeelbadforwhathappened,there'snotimetohelp.ThegriefisabouttoconsumemeandIcan't
lethersee.

Istarttobrushpastherjustasshegrabsholdofmyarmandstrugglestostand,thetouchofherskin

infusingmewithsuchdarkdismalenergyitrobsmeofbreath.

"For your information, this dress is designer. Which means you are going to replace it," she says,

fingerssqueezingsotight,IfearImightfaint.'Andtrustme,itdoesn'tstopthere."Sheshakesherhead
andglares."Youaregonnabesofuckingsorryyouranintome,you'regonnawishyounevercametothis
school."

"LikeKendra?"Isay,mystancesuddenlysteady,mystomachsettlingintoamuchcalmerstate.
Sheloosenshergripbutdoesn'tletgo.
"You planted those drugs in her locker. You got her expelled, destroyed her credibility so they'd

believeyouandnother,"Isay,transcribingthesceneinmyhead.

Shedropsmyarmandtakesastepback,thecolordrainingfromherfaceasshesays,"Whotoldyou

that?Youdidn'tevengoherewhenthathappened."

Ishrug,knowingthat'strue,thoughit'shardlythepoint.
"Oh, and there's more," I say, advancing on her, my own personal storm having passed, my

overwhelminggriefmiraculouslycuredbythefearinhereyes."Iknowyoucheatontests,stealfromyour
parents, clothing stores, your friends—it's all fair game as far as you're concerned. I know you record
Honor'sphonecallsandkeepafileofheremailsandtextmessagesincasesheeverdecidestoturnon
you. I know that you flirt with her stepdad, which, by the way, is totally disgusting, but unfortunately it
getsmuchworsethanthat.IknowallaboutMr.Barnes-Barnum?

Whatever,youknowwhoImean,yourninth-gradehistoryteacher?Theoneyoutriedtoseduce?And

whenhewouldn'tbiteyoutriedtoblackmailhiminstead,threateningtotelltheschoolprincipalandhis
poorpregnantwife..."Ishakemyheadindisgust,herbehaviorsosqualid,soselfserving,ithardlyseems
real.

Andyet,theresheis,standingbeforeme,eyeswide,lipstrembling,stunnedtohaveallofherdirty

littlesecretsrevealed.Andinsteadoffeelingbadorguiltyforexposingher,forusingmygiftinthisway,
seeingthisdespicableperson,thisawfulselfishbullywho'stauntedmesincemyveryfirstday,reduced
toashaky,sweatymess,ismoregratifyingthanIeverwould'veimagined.Andwithmynauseaandgrief
nowmerelyamemory,Ifigure,whattheheck,Imayaswellcontinue.

"ShouldIgoon?"Iask."Becausebelieveme,Ican.There'splentymore,butyoualreadyknowthat,

don't you?" I go after her, me walking forward, her stumbling backward, eager to put as much distance
betweenusasshepossiblycan.

"Whatareyou?Somekindofwitch?"shewhispers,eyesscanningthecorridor,lookingforhelp,an

exit, anything to get away from me. I laugh. Not admitting, not denying, just wanting her to think twice
beforeshemesseswithmeagain.

Butjustasquicklyshestops,findsherfooting,andlooksmeintheeyewhenshesays,"Thenagain,

it'syourwordagainstmine."Herlipscurveintoagrin."Andwhodoyouthinkpeoplewillbelieve?Me,
themostpopulargirlinthejuniorclass?Oryou,thebiggestfuckingfreakthatevercametothisschool?"

Shehasapoint.Shefingerstheholeinherdress,thenshakesherhead,andsays,"Stayawayfrom

me,freak.Becauseifyoudon't,IsweartoGodyou'llregretit."Andwhenshestepsforward,sheslams
intomyshouldersohard,I'venodoubtshemeansit.

WhenIgettothelunchtableItrynottogawk,butHaven'shairispurpleandI'mnotsureifIshould

mentionit.

"Don'teventrytopretendyoudon'tseeit.It'sawful,Iknow."Shelaughs."RightafterIhungupwith

youlastnightItriedtodyeitred,youknow,thatgorgeouscopperyshadelikeDrina's?OnlythisiswhatI
endedupwith."Shegrabsachunkofitandscowls."Ilooklikeaneggplantonastick.Butonlyforafew
morehours,cuzafterschool,Drina'stakingmetosomebigcelebritysalonupinL.A.Youknow,oneof
thoseA-listhotspotsbookedafullyearinadvance?Onlyshewastotallyabletosneakmeinlastminute.
Iswear,sheissoconnected,she'samazing."

"Where's Miles?" I ask, cutting her off, not wanting to hear another word about the amazing Drina

andhervelvetropecrashingabilities.

"Memorizinghislines.Communitytheater'sdoingaproductionofHairspray,andhe'shopingforthe

lead."

"Isn'ttheleadagirl?"Iopenmylunchpack,findinghalfasandwich,aclusterofgrapes,abagof

chips,andmoretulips.

Sheshrugs."Hetriedtoconvincemetotryouttoo,butit'ssonotmything.So,where'stall,dark,and

hot,a.k.a.yourboyfriend?"sheasks,unfoldinghernapkin,andusingitasaplacematforherstrawberry-
sprinklecupcake.

I shrug, remembering how, yet again, I forgot to secure his number, or find out where he lives.

"EnjoyingtheperksofemancipationIguess,"Ifinallysay,unwrappingmysandwichandtakingabite.'
AnynewsonEvangeline?"

Sheshakesherhead."None.Butcheckthisout."Sheraiseshersleeve,showingmetheundersideof

herwrist.

Isquintatthebeginningsofasmallcirculartattoo,aroughsketchofasnakeeatingitstail.Andeven

thoughit'sfarfromcomplete,forthebriefestmoment,Iactuallyseeitslitherandmove.ButassoonasI
blink,it'sstagnantagain.

"What is that?" I whisper, noticing how the energy it emanates fills me with dread, though I can't

fathomwhy.

"It'ssupposedtobeasurprise.I'llshowyouwhenit'sfinished."Shesmiles."Infact,Ishouldn'thave

eventoldyou."Sheadjustshersleeveandglancesaround."Imean,IpromisedIwouldn't.IguessI'mjust
tooexcited,andsometimesIsuckatkeepingsecrets.Especiallymyown."

Ilookather,tryingtotuneintoherenergy,findsomelogicalreasonforwhymystomachshouldfeel

asawfulasitdoes,butIcomeupempty."Promisedwho?What'sgoingon?"Iask,noticinghowheraura
isadullcharcoalgray,itsedgeslooseandfrayedallaround.

Butshejustlaughsandpretendstozipherlipsshut.
"Forgetit,"shesays."You'lljusthavetowait."

ChapterEighteen

WhenIgethomefromschool,Dameniswaitingonthefrontsteps,smilinginawaythatclearsthe

skyofcloudsanderasesalldoubts.

"How'dyougetpastthegateguard?"Iask,knowingforafactthatIdidn'tcallhimin.
"Charmandanexpensivecarworkseverytime."Helaughs,brushingtheseatofhisdarkdesigner

jeans and following me inside. "So, how was your day?" I shrug, knowing I'm breaking the most
fundamentalruleofall—neverinviteastrangerinside—evenifthisstrangerissupposedlymyboyfriend.

"You know, the usual routine," I finally say. "The substitute vowed to never return, Ms. Machado

asked me to never return—" I glance at him, tempted to keep making stuff up since it's clear he's not
listening.Becauseeventhoughhenodslikeheis,hisgazeispreoccupied,distant.

Iheadforthekitchen,pokemyheadinthefridge,andask,
"What about you? What'd you do?" Then I hold up a bottle of water in offering, but he shakes his

headandsipshisreddrink.

"Wentforadrive,surfed,waitedforthebelltoringsoIcouldseeyouagain."Hesmiles.
"Youknowyoucould'vejustgonetoschoolandthenyouwouldn'thavehadtowaitforanything,"I

say.

"I'lltrytorememberthattomorrow."Helaughs.
I lean against the counter, twisting the cap on my bottle around and around, nervous about being

alonewithhiminthisbigemptyhouse,withsomanyunansweredquestionsandnoideawheretobegin.

"You wanna go outside and hang by the pool?" I finally say, thinking the fresh air and open space

mightcalmmynerves.

Butheshakeshisheadandtakesmyhand."I'drathergoupstairs,andcheckoutyourroom."
"Howdoyouknowit'supstairs?"Iask,squintingathim.
Buthejustlaughs."Aren'ttheyalways?"Ihesitate,waveringbetweenallowingthistohappenand

findingapolitewaytoevicthim.

But when he squeezes my hand and says, "Come on, I promise not to bite," his smile is so

irresistible,histouchsowarmandinviting,thatmyonlyhopeasIleadhimupstairsisthatRileywon'tbe
there.

Themomentwereachthetopofthestairs,sherunsfromthedenandcalls,"Omigod,Iamsosorry!I

sodon'twanttofightwith—oops!"Shestopsshortandgapes,hereyeswideasFrisbees,dartingbetween
us.ButIjustcontinuetowardmyroomasthoughIdidn'tevenseeher,hopingshe'llhavethegoodsenseto
disappearuntillater.Muchlater.

"Looks like you left your TV on," Damen says, going into the den, while I glare at Riley who's

skippingalongsidehim,lookinghimupanddown,andgivinghimtwoveryenthusiasticthumbsup.

AndeventhoughIbegherwithmyeyestoleave,sheplopsrightdownonthecouchandplacesher

feetonhisknees.

I storm into the bathroom, furious with her for not taking the hint, for overstaying her visit and

refusingtosplit,knowingit'sjustamatteroftimebeforeshedoessomethingcrazy,somethingIcannever
explain.SoIyankoffmysweatshirtandracethroughmyroutine,brushingmyteethwithonehand,rolling
deodorant with the other, spitting into the sink just seconds before pulling on a clean white tee. Then I
ditchtheponytail,smearonsomelipbalm,spritzsomeperfume,andrushoutthedoor,onlytofindRiley
stillthere,peeringintohisears.

"Letmeshowyouthebalcony,theview'samazing,"Isay,anxioustoremovehimfromRiley.
Buthejustshakeshisheadandsays,"Later."PattingthecushionbesidehimasRileyjumpsupand

cheers.

Iwatchashesitsthere,innocent,unaware,trustinghe'sgotthecouchtohimself,whenthetruthis,

thatprickinhisear,thatitchonhisknee,thatchillonhisneck,iscourtesyofmydeadlittlesister.

"Um,Ileftmywaterinthebathroom,"Isay,lookingpointedlyatRileyandturningtoleave,thinking

she'llfollowifsheknowswhat'sgoodforher.

ButDamenstandsupandsays,'Allowme."
AndIwatchashemaneuversbetweenthecouchandtableinsuchawaythatclearlyavoidsRiley's

danglinglegs.

Thenshegapesatme,andIgawkather,andthenextthingIknowshe'sdisappeared.
"Allset,"Darnensays,tossingmethebottleandmovingfreelythroughthespacethat,justamoment

ago,henavigatedsocarefully.Andwhenhecatchesmegawking,hesmilesandsays,"What?"

ButIjustshakemyheadandstareattheTV,tellingmyselfitwasmerelyacoincidence.Thatthere's

nopossiblewayhecould'veseenher.

"Sowouldyoupleasejustexplainhowyoudoit?"
We'resittingoutside,curledupontheloungechair,havingjustdevouredalmostanentirepizza,most

ofwhichwaseatenbyme,sinceDameneatsmorelikeasupermodelthanaguy.Youknow—pick,pick—
movethefoodaround—takeabite—picksomemore,butmostlyhejustsippedhisdrink.

"Dowhat?"heasks,armswrappedlooselyaroundme,chinrestingonmyshoulder.
"Do everything! Seriously. You never do homework, yet you know all the answers, you pick up a

brush,dipitinpaint,andvoila,thenextthingyouknowyou'vecreatedaPicassothat'sevenbetterthan
Picasso!Areyoubadatsports?

Painfullyuncoordinated?Comeon,tellme"
Hesighs."Well,I'veneverbeenmuchgoodatbaseball,"hesays,pressinghislipstomyear."ButI

amaworld-classsoccerplayer,andI'mfairlyskilledatsurfing,ifIsaysomyself."

"Mustbemusic,then.Gotatinear?"
"BringmeaguitarandI'llstrumyouatune.Orevenapiano,violin,orsaxophonewilldo."
"Thenwhatisit?Comeon,everyonesucksatsomething!
Tellmewhatyou'rebadat."
"Whydoyouwanttoknowthis?"heasks,pullingmecloser.
"Whydoyouwanttowreckthisperfectillusionyouhaveofme?".
"Because I hate feeling so pale and meager in comparison. Seriously, I'm so mediocre in so many

ways,andIjustwanttoknowthatyousuckatsomethingtoo.Comeon,it'llmakemefeelbetter."

"You'renotmediocre,"hesays,hisnoseinmyhair,hisvoicefartooserious.

But I refuse to give up, I need something to go on, something that'll humanize him, if only a little.

"Justonething,please?Evenifyouhavetolie,it'sforagoodcausemyself-esteem."

ItrytoturnsothatIcanseehim,buthegripsmetighterandholdsmeinplace,kissingthetipofmy

earashewhispers,"Youreallywanttoknow?"

Inod,myheartbeatingwildly,mybloodpulsingelectric."Isuckatlove."
Istareintothefirepit,wonderingwhathecouldpossiblymean.AndeventhoughIseriouslywanted

himtoanswer,thatdoesn'tmeanIwantedhimtoanswersoseriously.

"Um,caretoelaborate?"Iask,laughingnervously,notsureifIreallydowanttohearit.Fearingit

mighthavesomethingtodowithDrina—asubjectI'dratheravoid.

Hepressesagainstme,hisbreathdrawnoutanddeep.AndhestayslikethatforsolongIwonderif

he's ever going to speak. But when he finally does, he says, "I just always end up—disappointing." He
shrugs,refusingtoexplainanyfurther.

"Butyou'reonlyseventeen."Imoveoutofhisarmsandfacehim.
Heshrugs.
"Sohowmanydisappointmentscouldtherebe?"
Butinsteadofanswering,heturnsmebackaroundandbringshislipstomyear,whispering,"Let's

goforaswim."

OnemoresignofhowperfectDamenis—hekeepsapairoftrunksinhiscar.
"Hey,thisisCalifornia,youneverknowwhenyou'llneedthem,"hesays,standingattheedgeofthe

poolandsmilingatme."Gotawetsuitinthetrunktoo,shouldIgetit?"

"Ican'tanswerthat,"Isay,wadinginthedeepend,steamrisingupallaround."Youjusthavetosee

foryourself."

Heinchestowardtheveryedgeandpretendstodiphisbigtoe.
"Notesting,onlyjumping,"Iscold.
"MayIdive?"
"Cannonball,bellyflop,whatever."Ilaugh,watchingasheexecutesthemostgorgeousarcingdive,

beforepoppingupbesideme.

"Perfect,"hesays,hishairslickedback,hisskinwetandglistening,astinydropsofwaterclingto

hislashes.AndjustwhenIthinkhe'sgoingtokissme,heducksbackunderthewaterandswimsaway.

SoItakeadeepbreath,swallowmypride,andfollow.
"Muchbetter,"hesays,holdingmeclose.
"Scaredofthedeepend?"Ismile,mytoesbarelytouchingthebottom.
"Iwasreferringtoyouroutfit.Youshoulddresslikethismoreoften."
I gaze down at my white body in my white bikini and try not to feel overly insecure next to his,

perfectlysculpted,bronzedself.

"Definitely a big improvement over the hoodies and jeans." He laughs. I press my lips together,

unsureofwhattosay.

"ButIguessyougottadowhatyougottado,right?"
Isearchhisface.Somethingaboutthewayhejustsaidthatseemedlikehemeantsomethingmore,

likehemightactuallyknowwhyIdressthewayIdo.

Hesmiles."ObviouslyitprotectsyoufromthewrathofStaciaandHonor.They'renottookeenon

competition."Hetucksmyhairbehindmyearandsmoothesthesideofmyface.

"Are we competing?" I ask, remembering the flirting, the rosebud retrieving, our brawl today at

school,thethreatI'venodoubtshe'llmakegoodon.Watchingashelooksatmeforthelongesttime,so
longthatmymoodhaschanged,andImoveaway.

"Ever,therewasneveranycontest,"hesays,followingme.ButIduckunderwaterandswimtoward

theledge,grabbingholdandwrigglingout,knowingIneedtoactfastifI'mgoingtohavemysay,because
themomenthecomesnear,thewordswillevaporate.

"HowcanIpossiblyknowanythingwhenyourunsohotandcold?"Isay,myhandstrembling,my

voiceshaky,wishingIcouldjuststop,letitgo,reclaimthenice,romanticeveningwewerehaving.But
knowing this needed to be said, despite whatever consequences it brought. "I mean, one minute you're
gazingatmein—inthatwaythatyoudo—andthenextthingIknowyou'realloverStacia."Ipressmy
lipstogetherandwaitforhimtorespond,watchingasheclimbsoutofthepoolandmovestowardme,so
gorgeous,wet,andglistening.Ifighttocatchmybreath.

"Ever, I—" He closes his eyes and sighs. And when he opens them again, he takes another step

towardmeandsays,"Itwasnevermyintentiontohurtyou.Truly.Never."Heslideshisarmsaroundme
andtriestomakemefacehim.AndwhenIdo,whenIfinallygivein,helooksintomyeyesandsays,"Not
oncedidIsetouttohurtyou.AndI'msorryifyoufeelthatIplayedwithyourfeelings.ItoldyouI'mnot
sogoodatthissortofthing."Hesmiles,buryinghisfingersinmywethair,beforecomingawaywitha
singleredtulip.

I stare at him, taking in his strong shoulders, defined chest, washboard abs, and bare hands. No

sleeves for hiding things under, no pockets to stow anything in. Just his glorious half-naked body,
dripping-wetswimtrunks,andthatstupidredtulipinhand.

"Howdoyoudoit?"Iask,holdingmybreath,knowingdamnwellitdidn'tcomefrommyear.
"Dowhat?"Hesmiles,hisarmsencirclingmywaist,pullingmecloser.
"Thetulips,therosebuds,allofit?"Iwhisper,tryingtoignorethefeelofhishandsonmyskin,how

histouchmakesmewarm,sleepy,vergingondizzy.

"It'smagic."Hesmiles.
Ipullawayandreachforatowel,wrappingittightlyaroundme."Whycan'tyoueverbeserious?"I

ask,wonderingwhatI'vegottenmyselfinto,andifthere'sstilltimetoretreat.

"Iamserious,"hemumbles,pullingonhisT-shirtandreachingforhiskeysasIshiverinmycold

damptowel,watchingspeechlessasheheadsforthegate,wavesoverhisshoulder,andcalls,"Sabine's
home,"beforeblendingintothenight.

ChapterNineteen

Thenextday,whenIpullintotheparkinglot,Darnen'snotthere.AndasIclimboutofmycar,sling

mybagovermyshoulder,andheadforclass,Igivemyselfapeptalkandpreparefortheworst.

ButthemomentIreachtheclassroom,I'mcompletelyimmobile.Staringstupidlyatthegreenpainted

door,unabletoopenit.

SincemypsychicabilitiesevaporatewhereverDamen'sconcerned,theonlythingIcanactuallysee

isthenightmareIcraftinmyhead.TheonewhereDamen'sperchedontheedgeofStacia'sdesk,laughing
andflirting,retrievingrosebudsfromallmannerofplaces,asIslumpbyandheadformyseat,thewarm
sweetflickerofhisgazeskimmingrightovermeasheturnshisbacksohecanfocusonher.

AndIjustcan'tgothroughwithit.Iseriouslycan'tbearit.BecauseeventhoughStacia'scruel,mean,

horrible, and sadistic, she happens to be cruel, mean, horrible, and sadistic in a straightforward way
Holdingnosecrets,cloakingnomysteries,herunkindnessisoutthere,clearlydisplayed.WhileI'mjust
theopposite:paranoid,secretive,lurkingbehindsunglassesandahoodie,andhoardingaburdensoheavy
there'snothingsimpleaboutme.

Ireachforthehandleagain,scoldingmyself.Thisisridiculous.Whatareyougonnado—dropoutof

school?

You'vegotanotheryearandahalftodealwiththis,sojustsuckitupandgoinsidealready!
Butmyhandstartstoshake,refusingtoobey,andjustasI'mabouttomakearunforit,thiskidcomes

upfrombehind,clearshisthroat,andsays,"Uh—yougonnaopenthat?"Completingthequestioninhis
headwithanunspoken—Youfuckin'freak!

So I take a deep breath, open the door, and slink right inside. Feeling worse than I ever could've

imagined,whenIseeDarnen'snotthere.

The second I enter the lunch area, I scan all the tables, searching for Damen, but when I don't see

him,Iheadformyusualspot,arrivingatthesametimeasHaven.

"DaysixandnowordonEvangeline,"shesays,droppinghercupcakeboxonthetablebeforeher

andsittingacrossfromme.

"Haveyouaskedaroundtheanonymousgroup?"Milesslidesinbesidemeandtwiststhecapoffhis

VitaminWater.

Haven rolls her eyes. "They're anonymous, Miles." Miles rolls his eyes. "I was referring to her

mentor."

"They'recalledsponsors.Andyeah,she'snohelp,hasn'theardathing.DrinathinksI'moverreacting

though,saysI'mmakingwaytoobigadeal"

"Shestillhere?"Milespeersather.
My eyes dart between them, alerted by the edge in his voice and waiting for more. Since most

everythingtodowithDamenandDrinaispsychicallyofflimits,I'mascurioustoheartheanswerashe
is.

"Um,yeah,Miles,shelivesherenow.Why?Isthataproblem?"Shenarrowshereyes.
Miles shrugs and sips his drink. "No problem." Though his thoughts say otherwise and his yellow

auraturnsdarkandopaqueashestruggleswithsayingwhathewants,versusnotsayinganythingatall.
"There'sjust..."hestarts.

"Justwhat?"Shestaresathim,eyesnarrowed,lipspinched.
"Well..."
Istareathim,thinking:Doit,Miles,sayit!Drina'sarrogant,awful,abadinfluence,puretrouble.

You'renottheonlyonewhoseesit,Iseeittoo,sogoaheadandsayit—she'stheworst!

Hehesitates,thewordsformingonhistongueasIsuckinmybreath,anticipatingtheirrelease.Then

heexhalesloudly,shakeshishead,andsays,"Nevermind."

I glance at Haven, seeing her enraged face, her aura flaring, the edges sparking and flaming all

around,forecastingamajormeltdownscheduledtostartinjustthree-two-one,

"Excuseme,Miles,butI'msonotbuyingthat.Soifyouhavesomethingtosay,thenjustsayit."She

glaresathim,cupcakeforgottenasshedrumsherfingersagainstthefiberglasstable.Andwhenhedoesn't
respond,shecontinues."Whatever,Miles.Youtoo,Ever.Justbecauseyou'renotsayinganythingdoesn't
makeyouanylessguilty."

Milespeersatme,eyeswide,browraised,andIknowIshouldsaysomething,dosomething,makea

showofaskingjustwhatexactlyitisthatI'mguiltyof.Butthetruthis,Ialreadyknow.I'mguiltyofnot
liking Drina. Of not trusting her. Of sensing something suspicious, sinister even. And not doing nearly
enoughtohidethosesuspicions.

Sheshakesherheadandrollshereyes,andshe'ssoupsetshepracticallyspitsoutthewords,"You

guys don't even know her! And you have no right to judge her! For your information, I happen to like
Drina.AndintheshorttimeI'veknownhershe'sbeenawaybetterfriendtomethaneitherofyou!"

"That'ssonottrue!"Milesshouts,eyesblazing."That'ssuchtotalbullsh—"
"SorryMiles,butitistrue.Youguystolerateme,yougoalongwithme,butyoudon'treallygetme

likeshedoes.DrinaandIlikethesamethings,wesharethesameinterests.Shedoesn'tsecretlywantme
tochangelikeyoudo.ShelikesmejustasIam."

"Oh,isthatwhyyouchangedyourentirelook,becausesheacceptsyouforwhoyoureallyare?"
IwatchasHavencloseshereyesandtakesaslowbreath,thenshelooksatMilesandrisesfromher

seat,gatheringherthingsasshesays,'Whatever,Miles.Whatever,bothofyou."

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, behold the big dramatic exit!" Miles scowls. "I mean, are you

kidding?AllIdidwasaskifshewasstillhere!That'sit!Andyouturnitintothismajorordeal.Jeez,sit
down,findyourhappyplace,andchillaxalready,wouldyou"

Sheshakesherheadandgripsthetable,thesmalelaboratetattooonherwristnowfinished,butstill

redandinflamed.

"Whatdoyoucallthat?"Iask,gazingattheinkrenderingofthesnakeeatingitsowntail,knowing

there'sanameforit,thatit'ssomesortofmythicalcreature,butforgettingwhichone.

"Ouroboros."AndwhensherubsitwithherfingerIswearIsawitstongueflickerandmove.
"Whatdoesitmean?"
"It's an ancient alchemy symbol for eternal life, creation out of destruction, life out of death,

immortality,somethinglikethat,"Milessays.

HavenandIgazeathim,buthejustshrugs."What?SoI'mwellread."
ThenIlookatherandsay,"Itlooksinfected.Maybeyoushouldhaveitlookedat."
But as soon as it's out I know it was the wrong thing to say, and I watch as she yanks down her

sleeve,asheraurasparksandflames."Mytattooisfine.I'mfine.Andexcusemeforsayingso,butIcan't
help but notice how neither one of you is freaking out over Damen, who, by the way, never comes to
schoolanymore.Imean,what'supwiththat?"

Miles gazes down at his Sidekick, and I just shrug. It's not like she doesn't have a point. And we

watchassheshakesherhead,snatcheshercupcakebox,andstormsaway.

"Canyoutellmewhatjusthappened?"Milessays,watchingherslalomthroughthemazeoflunch

tables,inabighurrytonowhere.ButIjustshrug,unabletoshaketheimageofthesnakeonherwrist,how
itturneditshead,focuseditsbeadyeyes,andlookedrightatme.

ThemomentIpullintomydrive,IseeDamen,leaningagainsthiscar,smiling.
"Howwasschool?"heasks,comingaroundtoopenmydoor.Ishrugandreachformybooks.
"Ah,soyou'restillangry,"hesays,followingmetothefrontdoor.Andeventhoughhe'snottouching

me,Icanfeelhisemanatingheat.

"I'mnotangry,"Imutter,openingthedoorandtossingmybackpackontothefloor.
"Wellthat'sareliefBecauseI'vemadereservationsfortwo,andifyou'renotangry,thenIassume

you'llbejoiningme."

I look at him, my eyes grazing over his dark jeans, boots, and soft black sweater that can only be

cashmere,wonderingwhathecouldpossiblybeuptonow:

Heremovesmysunglassesandearbudsandsetsthemontheentrywaytable."Trustme,youreally

don'tneedallthosedefenses,"hesays,loweringmyhood,tuckinghisarmthroughmine,andleadingme
outthefrontdoorandovertohiscar.

"Where are we going?" I ask, settling onto the passenger seat, complacent, spineless, always so

eagertogoalongwithwhateverhesays."Imean,whataboutmyhomework?

Ihaveatonofcatchinguptodo."
Buthejustshakeshisheadandclimbsinbesideme."Relax,youcandoitlater,Ipromise."
"How much later?" I peer at him, wondering if I'll ever get used to his amazing dark beauty, the

warmthofhisgaze,andhisabilitytotalkmeintojustaboutanything.

Hesmiles,startingthecarwithouteventurningthekey.
"Beforethestrokeofmidnight,Ipromise.Nowbucklein,we'regoingforaride."
Damen drives fast. Really fast. So when he pulls into the parking lot and leaves his car with the

valet,itseemsasthoughonlyafewminuteshavepassed.

"Where are we?" I ask, gazing at the green buildings and the I sign marked EAST ENTRANCE.

"Eastentrancetowhat?"

"Well,thisshouldexplainit."Helaughs,pullingmetowardhimasfourshinysweatythoroughbreds

trotbywiththeirgrooms,followedbyajockeyinapink-and-greenjacket,thinwhitepants,andmuddy
blackboots.

"Theracetrack?"Igape.LikeDisneyland,it'sprettymuchthelastplaceIexpected.
"Notjustanyracetrack,it'sSantaAnita,"henods."Oneofthenicerones.Nowcomeon,we'vegot

athree-fifteenreservationattheFrontRunner."

"Thewhat?"Iask,standingmyground.
"Relax,it'sjustarestaurant."Helaughs."Now;comeon,Idon'twanttomisspost."
"Um,isn'tthisillegal?"Isay;knowingIsoundliketheworstkindofgoody-good,butstill,he'sjust

so—lawlessandrecklessand—random.

"Eatingisillegal?"Hesmiles,butIcantellhispatienceisrunningthin.
Ishakemyhead."Betting,gambling,whatever,youknow."Buthejustlaughsandshakeshishead.

"It's horse racing, Ever, not cockfighting. Now come on." He squeezes my hand and leads me to the
elevatorbank.

"Butdon'tyouhavetobetwenty-one?"
"Eighteen,"hemumbles,goinginsideandpressingfive.
"Exactly.I'msixteenandahalf."
Heshakeshisheadandleansintokissme."Rulesshouldalwaysbebent,ifnotbroken.It'stheonly

way to have any fun. Now come," he says, leading me down a hall and into a large room decorated in
varyingshadesofgreen,stoppingbeforethefrontpodiumandgreetingthemaitred'likealonglostfriend.

"Ah,Mr.Auguste,sowonderfultoseeyou!Yourtableisready,followme."
Damen nods and takes my hand, leading me through a room full of couples, retirees, single men,

groups of women, a father and his young son—not an empty seat in the house. Eventually stopping at a
tablejustacrossfromthefinishline,withabeautifulviewofthetrackandthegreenhillsbeyond.

"Tonywillberightovertotakeyourorders.ShouldIbringyouchampagne?"
Damenglancesatmethenshakeshishead.Hisfaceflushingslightlywhenhesays,"Nottoday."
"Verywellthen,fiveminutes'tilpost."
"Champagne?"Iwhisper,raisingmybrows,buthejustshrugsandunfoldshisracingprogram.
"WhatdoyouthinkaboutSpanishFly?"Helooksatmesmilingwhenhesays,"Thehorse,notthe

aphrodisiac."

ButI'mtoobusygazingaroundtoanswer,strugglingtotakeitallin.Becausethisroomisnotonly

huge, but it's also completely full—in the middle of the week—the middle of the day even. All these
peopleplayinghookyandbetting.It'slikeawholeotherworldIneverknewexisted.AndIcan'thelpbut
wonderifthisiswherehespendsallhisfreetime.

"So what do you say? You wanna bet?" He glances at me briefly, before making a series of notes

withhispen.

Ishakemyhead."Iwouldn'tevenknowwheretobegin."
"Well, I could give you the whole lowdown on odds, percentages, stats, and who sired who. But

sincewe'reshortontime,whydon'tyoujustlookthisover,andtellmewhatyoufeel,whichnamesyou're
drawnto.It'salwaysworkedforme."Hesmiles.

HetossesmetheracingformandIlookitover,surprisedtofindthreedistinctnamesjumpoutatme,

in a one-two-three order. "How about Spanish Fly to win, Acapulco Lucy second, and Son of Buddha
third?"Isay,havingnoideahowIgotthere,butfeelingprettyconfidentinmypicks.

"Lucytoplace,Buddhatoshow"hemumbles,scribblingitdown."Andhowmuchwouldyouliketo

wageronthat?Minimumbetstwo,butyoucancertainlygohigher"

"Twosgood."Isaysuddenlylosingconfidenceandunwillingtoemptymywalletonawhim.
"Yousure?"heaskslookingdisappointed.
Inod
"WellIthinkyougotsomesoundpicks,soIambettingfive.No!Makethatten."
"Don'tbetten,"Isaypressingmylips"ImeanIjustpickedthem,Idon'tevenknowwhy."
"Lookslikewe'reabouttofindout."hesaysstandingasIreachformywallet.
Buthejustwavesitaway,"Youcanreimbursemewhenyoucollectyourwinnings.I'mgoingtopost.

Ifthewaitercomesbyorderwhateveryouwant."

"WhatshouldIorderforyou?"Icall,buthemovessofasthedoesn'tevenhearme.
Bythetimehereturnsthehorsesareallinthegateandwhentheshotgoesoff,theyboltfromtheir

stalls.Atfirstappearinglikeshinydarkblurs,astheytakethecornerandraceforthefinish.Ispringfrom
myseat,watchingasmythreefavoritepicksjockeyforpositionthenjumpingandshoutingandscreaming
withglee,whentheyallcrossthefinishlineinmyperfectone,two,three.

"Omigodwewon!Wewon!"Isay,smilingasDamenleansintokissme."Isitalwaysthisexciting?"

I gaze down at the track, watching as Spanish Fly trots into the winners circle and gets draped with
flowers,preparingforhisphotoop.

"Prettymuch,"Damennods"Thoughthereisnothinglikethatfirstbigwin,that'salwaysthebest."
"WellI'mnotsurehowbigitwillbe,"IsaywishingIhadalittlemorefaithinmyabilities,atleast

enoughtobroadenthestakes.

Hefrowns"Wellsinceyouonlybettwo,I'mafraidyouwonsomewherearoundeight."
"Eightdollars?"Isquint,morethanalittledisappointed.
"Eighthundred"helaughs"OrEighthundredandeightydollarsandsixtycentstobeexact.Youwon

aTrifecta,meaningwin,place,andshowinthatexactorder."

"Allthatonjusttwodollars?"Isaysuddenlyknowingwhyhehasaregulartable.Henods."What

aboutyou,whatdidyouwin?"Iask."Didyoubetthesameasme?"

Hesmiles"AsitjustsohappensIlost.Ilostbig.IgotalittlegreedyandwentfortheSuperfecta,

whichmeansIaddedaponywhichdidn'tquitemakeit,butdon'tworryIplantomakeupforitonthenext
race."

Anddidheever!Becausewhenwewenttothewindow(aftertheeighthandfinalrace)Icollecteda

total of One Thousand Six Hundred and Forty-five dollars and Eighty cents while Damen pocketed
significantly more, having won the" Super High Five", meaning he picked all five horses in the exact
ordertheyfinished.Andsincehewastheonlyonetohavedonesoforthelastseveraldays,hewonFive
HundredandThirty-sixThousanddollarsandForty-onecentsallonatendollarbet.

"Sowhatdoyouthinkoftheraces?"heasks,hisarmtuckedaroundmineasheleadsmeoutside.
"Well,nowIgetwhyyou'renotallthatintoschool.Iguessitcan'treallycompete,canit?"Ilaugh,

stillfeelinghighfrommywinnings,thinkingI'vefinallyfoundaprofitableoutletformypsychicgift.

"Comeon,Iwanttobuyyousomethingtocelebratemybigwin,"hesays,leadingmeintothegift

shop.

"No,youdon'thaveto—"Istart.
Buthesqueezesmyhand,hislipsonmyearashesays,"Iinsist.Besides,IthinkIcanaffordit.But

there'sonecondition."Ilookathim.

"Absolutelynosweatshirtsorhoodies."Helaughs."Butanythingelse,justsaytheword."
After joking around and insisting on a jockey cap, a model horse, and a huge bronze horseshoe to

hangonmybedroomwall,wesettleOnasilverhorse-bitbraceletinstead.ButonlyafterImadesurethat
the crystal bits were really just crystal, not diamonds, because that would be too much, no matter how
muchmoneyhewon.

"This way, no matter what happens, you'll never forget this day," he says, closing the clasp on my

wristaswewaitforthevalettobringusthecar.

"HowcouldIpossiblyforget?"Iask,gazingatmywrist,thenathim.
But he just shrugs as he climbs in beside me and there's something so sad, so bereft in his eyes, I

hopethat'stheonethingIdoforget.

Unfortunately,theridehomeseemsevenquickerthantheonetothetrackandwhenhepullsintomy

driveway,IrealizehowreluctantIamforthedaytoend.

"Would you look at that?" he says, motioning to the clock on his dash. "Well before midnight, just

likeIpromised."Andwhenheleansintokissme,IkisshimbackwithsomuchenthusiasmIpractically

drillhimontomyseat.

"CanIcomein?"hewhispers,temptingmewithhislipsastheymaketheirwaydownmyear,my

neck,andallalongmycollarbone.

AndIsurprisemyselfbypushinghimawayandshakingmyhead.NotjustbecauseSabine'sinside

andIhavehomeworktodo,butbecauseIneedtogetabackbonealready,stopgivingintohimsodang
easily.

"I'llseeyouatschool,"Isay,climbingoutofhiscar,beforehecanchangemymind."Youremember,

BayView?Thathighschoolyouusedtoattend?"

Heavertshisgazeandsighs.
"Don'ttellmeyou'reditching—again?"
"Schoolissodreadfullyboring.Idon'tknowhowyoudoit."
"You don't know how I do it?" I shake my head and glance toward the house, seeing Sabine peek

throughtheblindsandthenpullingaway.

ThenIturnbacktoDamenandsay,"Well,IguessIdoitthesamewayyouusedtodoit.Youknow;

yougetup,getdressed,andjustgo.Andsometimes,ifyoupayattention,youactuallylearnathingortwo
whileyou'rethere."Butthesecondit'soutofmymouth,Iknowit'salie.Becausethetruthis,Ihaven't
learned a damn thing all year. I mean, it's hard to actually learn anything when you just sort of know
everythinginstead.Thoughit'snotlikeIsharethatwithhim.

"There'sgottobeabetterway,"hegroans,hiseyeswide,pleadingwithmine.
"Well, just for the record, truancy and dropping out? Not a better way. Not if you want to go to

college,andmakesomethingofyourlife."Morelies.Becausewithafewmoredayslikethatatthetrack,
onecouldliveverywell.Betterthanwell.

Buthejustlaughs."Fine.We'llplayityourway.Fornow,seeyoutomorrow,Ever."
AndI'vebarelymadeitthroughthefrontdoorwhenhe'salreadydrivenaway.

ChapterTwenty

Thenextmorning,asI'mgettingreadyforschool,Riley'sperchedonmydresser,dressedasWonder

Woman, and spilling celebrity secrets. Having grown bored with watching the everyday antics of old
neighborsandfriends,she'ssethersightsonHollywood,whichallowshertodishthedirtbetterthanany
supermarkettabloid.

"Noway!"Igapeather."Ican'tbelieveit!Mileswillflipwhenhehearsthis!"
"Youhavenoidea."Sheshakesherhead,herblackcurlsbouncingfromsidetoside,lookingjaded,

worldweary,likeonewho'sseentoomuch—andthensome."Nothing'swhatitseems.Seriously.It'sjust
onebigillusion,asfakeasthemoviestheymake.Andbelieveme,thosepublicistsworktheirbuttsoff
keepingalloftheirdirtylittlesecrets-secret."

"Whoelsehaveyouspiedon?"Iask,eagertohearmore.Wonderingwhyitneveroccurredtometo

trytotuneintotheirenergieswhileI'mwatchingTVorflippingthroughamagazine."Whatabout—"

I'mjustabouttoaskiftherumorsaboutmyfavoriteactressaretrue,whenSabinepokesherheadin

myroomandsays,

"Whataboutwhat?"IglanceatRiley,seeingshe'sbentoverlaughing,andclearmythroatasIsay,

"Um,nothing,Ididn'tsayanything."

Sabinegivesmeanoddlook,asRileyshakesherheadandsays,"Goodone,Ever.Realconvincing."
"Didyouneedsomething?"Iask,turningmybackonRileyandfocusingontherealpurposebehind

Sabine'svisit—she'sbeeninvitedawayfortheweekendandisn'tsurehowtotellme.

She walks into my room, her posture too straight, her gait unnaturally stiff, then she takes a deep

breathandsitsontheedgeofmybed,herfingersnervouslypickingataloosethreadonmybluecotton
duvet as she considers just how to broach it. "Jeff invited me away for the weekend." She merges her
brows."ButIthoughtIshouldrunitbyyoufirst."

"Who'sJeff?"Iask,insertingmyearringsandturningtolookather.BecauseeventhoughIalready

know,IstillfeellikeIshouldstillask.

"Youmethimattheparty.HecameasFrankenstein."Sheglancesatme,hermindcloudedwithguilt,

feeling like a negligent guardian, a bad role model, though it hasn't affected her aura, which is still a
brighthappypink.

Icrammybooksintomybackpack,stallingfortime,asIdecidewhattodo.Ontheonehand,Jeff

isn'ttheguyshethinks.Notevenclose.ThoughfromwhatIcansee,hetrulydoeslikeherandmeansher
noharm.Andit'sbeensolongsinceI'veseenherhappylikethis,Ican'tbeartotelllher.Besides,how
wouldIevengoaboutit?

Um,excuseme,butthatJeffguy?Mr.SwankyInvestmentBanker?Sonotthemanyouthinkheis.In

fact,hestillliveswithhismom!Justdon'taskhowIknowwhatIknow—justtrustthatIknow.

No.Uh-uh.Can'tdoit.Besides,relationshipshaveawayofworkingthemselvesout—intheirown

way—in their own good time. And it's not like I don't have my own relationship issues to deal with. I
mean,nowthatthingsarestartingtostabilizewithDamen,nowthatwe'regrowingcloserandI'mfeeling
morelikeacouple,I'vebeenthinkingthatmaybeit'stimeIstoppushinghimaway.Maybeit'stimewe
takethenextstep.AndwithSabineoutoftownforthenextcoupledays,well,it'sanopportunitythatmay
notcomearoundagain.

"Go!Havefun!"Ifinallysay,trustingshe'lleventuallylearnthetruthaboutJeffandmoveonwithher

life.

Shesmiles,withequalamountsofexcitementandrelief.Thenshegetsupfrommybedandmoves

toward the door, pausing as she says, "We're leaving today, after work. He's got a place up in Palm
Springs,andit'slessthanatwo-hourdrive,soifyouneedanything,wewon'tbetoofar."

Correction,hismomhasaplaceinPalmSprings.
"We'llbebackSunday.AndEver,ifyouwanttohaveyourfriendsoverthat'sfine,though—dowe

needtotalkaboutthat?"

Ifreeze,knowingexactlywherethisconversationisheadedandwonderingifshe'ssomehowread

my mind. But realizing she's just trying to be a responsible adult and fulfill her new role as "parent," I
shakemyheadandsay,"Trustme,it'sallbeencovered."

ThenIgrabmybagandrollmyeyesatRileywho'sdancingontopofmydresser,singing,"Par-ty!

Par-ty!"

Sabine nods, clearly relieved at having avoided the S-E-X talk almost as much as me. "See you

Sunday,"shesays.

"Yup,"Isay,headingdownthestairs."Seeyouthen."

"SweartoGodhe'sonyourteam,"Isay,pullingintotheparkinglot,feelingtheWarm,sweettingle

ofDamen'sgazelongbeforeIactuallyseehim.

"Iknewit!"Milesnods."IknewhewasgayIcouldjusttell.Where'dyouhearthat?"
I stall, knowing there's no way I can divulge my true source, admitting that my dead little sister is

nowthe ultimate Hollywoodinsider. "Um, Idon't remember," I mumble,climbing out ofmy car. "I just
knowthatit'strue."

"What'strue?"Damenaskssmilingashebringshislipstomycheek.
"Jo—"Milesstarts.
But I shake my head and cut him off, unwilling to display my celebrity-obsessing shallow side so

earlyinthegame.

"Nothing,wejust,urn,didyouhearMilesisplayingTracyTurnbladinHairspray?"Iask,goinginto

afull-blowndiscourseofjumbledphrasesanddisjointednonsenseuntilMilesfinallywavesgoodbyeand
headsofftoclass.

Assoonashe'sgone,Damenstopsandsays,"Hey,Ihaveabetteridea.Let'sgohavebreakfast."
Ishoothimtheyou'recrazylookandcontinuewalking,butIdon'tgetveryfatbeforehe'ssqueezing

myhandandpullingmeback.

"Comeon,"hesays,hiseyesonmine,laughinginawaythat'scontagious.
"We can't," I whisper, glancing around anxiously, knowing we're seconds from being late and not

wantingittogetanyworse."Besides,Ialreadyhadbreakfast."

"Ever,please!"Hedropstohisknees,palmspressedtogether,eyeswideandpleading."Pleasedon't

makemegointhere.Ifyouhaveanykindnessatall,youwon'tmakemedoit."

Ipressmylipsandtrynottolaugh.Watchingmygorgeous,elegant,sophisticatedboyfriendbegging

onhiskneesisasightIneverthoughtI'dsee.Butstill,Ijustshakemyheadandsay,"Comeon,getup,
bell'saboutto—"AndIdon'tevenfinishthesentencebeforeit'salreadyrung.

Hesmiles,risingtohisfeet,wipinghisjeans,andthentuckinghisarmaroundmywaistashesays,

"Youknowwhattheysay,betterano-showthanatardy."

"Who'sthey?"Iask,shakingmyhead."Soundmorelikeyou."
Heshrugs."Hmmm,maybeitisme.Nonetheless,Iguaranteetherearemuchbetterwaystospenda

morning.BecauseEver,"hesays,squeezingmyhand,"Wedon'thavetodothis.And,youdon'thaveto
wearthis."Heremovesmysunglassesandlowersmyhood."Theweekendstartsnow"

AndeventhoughIcanthinkofamilliongoodandvalidreasonswhyweabsolutelyshouldnotditch,

whytheweekendshouldwaituntilthreeo'clockjustlikeanyotherFriday,whenhegazesatme,hiseyes
aresodeepandinviting,Idon'tthinktwice,Ijustdiverightin.

BarelyrecognizingthesoundofmyownvoicewhenIhearmyselfsay,"Hurrybeforetheylockthe

gate."

Wetakeseparatecars.Becauseeventhoughitwentunspoken,it'sprettyobviouswehavenoplansto

return. And as I follow Damen up the sweeping curves of Coast Highway, I gaze out at the dramatic
stretchofcoastline,thepristinebeaches,thenavybluewaters,andmyheartswellswithgratitude,feeling
soluckytolivehere,tocallthisamazingplacehome.ButthenIrememberhowIendeduphere—andjust
likethat,thethrillisgone.

HemakesaquickrightandIpullintothespacebesidehim,smilingashecomesaroundtoopenmy

door."Haveyoubeenhereyet?"heasks.Igazeatthewhiteclapboardhutandshakemyhead.

"I know you said you weren't hungry, but their shakes are best. You should definitely try the date

malt,orthechocolatepeanutbuttershake,orboth,it'smytreat."

"Dates?"Icrinklemynoseandmakeaface."Um,Ihatetosayit,butthatsoundsawful."
Buthejustlaughsandpullsmetowardthecounter,orderingoneofeach,andthencarryingthemover

tothepaintedbluebenchwherewetakeaseatandgazedownatthebeach.

"Sowhichone'syourfavorite?"heasks.
I try them each again, but they're both so thick and creamy, I remove their lids and use a spoon.

"They'rebothreallygood,"Isay."Butsurprisingly,IthinkIlikethedateonebest."ButwhenIslideit
toward him so he can taste too, he shakes his head and pushes it back. And something about that small
simpleactpiercesstraightthroughme.

There'sjustsomethingabouthim,somethingmorethanjustthestrangemagictricksanddisappearing

acts.Imean,foronething,thisguynevereats.

ButnosoonerhaveIthoughtitthanhereachesforthestrawandtakesalongdeeppull,andwhenhe

leansintokissmehislipsareicycold.

"Let'sheaddowntothebeach,shallwe?"
He takes my hand and we walk along the trail, shoulders bumping into each other, as we pass the

milkshakesbackandforth,eventhoughI'mdoingmostalloftheslurping.Andaswemakeourwaydown
tothebeach,weremoveourshoes,rollupourhems,andwalkalongtheshore,allowingthefrigidwater
towashoverourtoesandsplashonourshins.

"Doyousurf?"heasks,takingtheemptycupsandplacingoneinsidetheother.
Ishakemyhead,andstepoverapileofrocks.
"Wouldyoulikealesson?"Hesmiles.

"Inthiswater?"Iheadtowardabankofdrysand,mytoesnumbandbluefromjustthatquickdip.

"Nothanks."

"Well,Iwasthinkingwe'dwearwetsuits,"hesays,comingupbehindme.
"Onlyifthey'refurlined."Ilaugh,smoothingthesandwithmyfoot,makingaflatspaceforustosit.

Buthetakesmyhandandleadsmeaway,allthewaypastthetidepools,andintoahiddennaturalcave.

"Ihadnoideathiswashere,"Isay,gazingaroundatthesmoothrockwalls,therecentlyrakedsand,

andthetowelsandsurfboardspiledupinthecorner.

"Nobodydoes."Hesmiles."That'swhyallmystuffisstillhere.Blendsintothetock;mostpeople

walkrightbywithoutevenseeingit.Butthen,mostpeoplelivetheirwholeliveswithoutevernoticing
what'sdirectlyinfrontofthem."

"Sohow'dyoufindit?"Iask,sittingontothelargegreenblankethe'slaidoutinthemiddle.
Heshrugs."IguessI'mnotlikemostpeople."
Heliesdownbesideme,thenpullsmedowntoo.Restinghischeekonthepalmofhishand,hegazes

atmeforsolong,Ican'thelpbutsquirm.

"Whydoyouhideunderthosebaggyjeansandhoodies?"hewhispers,hisfingersstrokingtheside

ofmyface,pushingmyhairbehindmyear."Don'tyouknowhowbeautifulyouare?"

Ipressmylipstogetherandlookaway,likingthesentimentbutwishinghe'dstop.Idon'twanttogo

downthisroadofhavingtoexplainmyself,defendwhyIamthewayIam.

Obviouslyhe'dprefertheoldme,butit'stoolateforthat.Thatgirldiedandleftmeinherplace.A

tearescapesdownmycheek,andItrytoturn,notwantinghimtosee.Butheholdsmetightandwon'tlet
mego,erasingmysadnesswithabrushofhislipsbeforemergingwithmine.

"Ever,"hegroans,voicethick,eyesburning,shiftinguntilhe'sdrapedrightacrossme,theweightof

hisbodyprovidingthemostcomfortingwarmththatsoonturnstoheat.

I run my lips along the line of his jaw, the square of his chin, my breath coming in short shallow

gaspsashishipspressandcirclewithmine,elicitingallofthefeelingsI'vefoughtsohardtodeny.But
I'mtiredoffighting,tiredofdenying.Ijustwanttobenormalagain.Andwhatcouldbemorenormalthan
this?

I close my eyes as he removes my sweatshirt, surrendering, yielding, allowing him to unbutton my

jeansandremovethemtoo.Consentingtothepressofhispalmandpushofhisfingers,tellingmyselfthat
thisgloriousfeeling,thisdreamyexuberancesurginginsidemecouldonlybeonething—couldonlybe
Love.

ButwhenIfeelhisthumbsanchoredintheelasticofmypanties,guidingthemdown,Isitupabruptly

andpushhimaway.Partofmewantingtocontinue,topullhimbacktome—onlynothere,notnow,notin
thisway.

"Ever," he whispers, his eyes searching mine. But I just shake my head and turn away, feeling his

warmwonderfulbodymoldaroundmine,hislipsonmyearsaying,"It'sallright.Really.Nowsleep."

"Damen?" I roll over, squinting in the dim light, as my hand explores the empty space beside me.

Pattingtheblanketagainandagain,untilI'mconvincedhe'strulynotthere.

"Damen?"Icallagain,glancingaroundthecave,thedistantsoundofcrashingwavestheonlyreply.
I slip on my sweatshirt and stumble outside, staring into the fading afternoon light, scanning the

beach,expectingtofindhim.ButwhenIdon'tseehimanywhere,Iheadbackinside,seeingthenotehe
leftonmybag,andunfoldingittoread:

Gonesurfing.Bebacksoon.

—D
I run back outside, note still in hand, rushing up and down the shore, scanning for surfers, one in

particular.Buttheonlytwoouttherearesoblondandpale,it'sclearthey'renotDamen.

ChapterTwenty-One

WhenIpullintothedrivewayI'msurprisedtoseesomeonesittingonthefrontsteps,butwhenIget

closer,I'mevenmoresurprisedtoseethatit'sRiley.

"Hey,"Isay,grabbingmybagandslammingthecardoor,alittleharderthanplanned.
"Sheesh!"shesays,shakingherheadandstaringatme."Ithoughtyouweregonnarunmeover."
"Sorry,IthoughtyouwereDamen,"Isayheadingforthefrontdoor.
"Ohno,what'dhedonow?"Shelaughs.ButIjustshrugandunlockthedoor.I'mcertainlynotgoing

tofillherinonthedetails.

"Whathappened,yougetlockedout?"Iask,leadingherinside.
''Veryfunny."Sherollshereyesandheadsintothekitchen,takingaseatatthebreakfastbarasIdrop

mybagonthecounterandstickmyheadinthefridge.

"So, what's up?" I glance at her, wondering why she's so quiet, thinking maybe my bad mood is

contagious.

"Nothing."Sherestsherchininherhandandgazesatme.
"Doesn'tseemlikenothing."IgrababottleofwaterinsteadofthequartoficecreamIreallywant,

and lean against the granite counter, noticing how her black hair is tangled, and the Wonder Woman
costumemorethanalittledroopy.

Sheshrugs."So,whatareyougonnado?"sheasks,leaningbackonthestoolinawaythatmakesme

cringe,eventhoughshecan'tpossiblyfallandgethurt."Imean,thisislikeateendreamcometrue,right?
Housetoyourself,nochaperones."Shewigglesherbrowsinawaythatseemsfalse,likeshe'stryingtoo
hardtoputupagoodfront.

Itakeaswigofwaterandshrug,partofmewantingtoconfideinher,unburdenmysecrets,thegood,

bad,andthecompletelyrevolting.Itwouldbesonicetogetitoffmychest,notbearallthisweightonmy
own. But when I look at her again, I remember how half her life was spent waiting to turn thirteen,
viewing each passing year as the one that brought her closer to the important double digits. And I can't
helpbutwonderifthat'swhyshe'shere.SinceIrobbedherofherdream,she'sleftwithnochoicebutto
liveitthroughme.

"Well,Ihatetodisappointyou,"Ifinallysay."ButI'msureyou'vealreadyguessedwhatacolossal

failure I am in the teen dream department." I gaze up at her shyly, my face flushing when she nods in
agreement. "And that promise I showed back in Oregon? With the friends, and the boyfriend, and the
cheerleading?Gone.Kaput.O-V-E-R.AndthetwofriendsImanagedtomakeatBayView?Well,they're
not speaking to each other. Which, unfortunately means they're barely speaking to me. And even though

through some weird, unexplainable, unimaginable fluke I managed to snag a gorgeous, sexy boyfriend,
wellthetruthis,it'snotallit'scrackeduptobe.Becausewhenhe'snotactingweird,orvanishinginto
thinair,well,thenhe'sconvincingmetoditchschoolandbetatthetracksandallsortsofsordidbusiness
likethat.He'skindofabadinfluence."Icringe,realizingtoolatethatIshouldn'thavesharedanyofthat.

ButwhenIlookatheragain,it'sclearshe'snotlistening.She'sstaringatthecounter,fingerstracing

theblackgraniteswirls,ashermindwandersinsomeotherplace.

"Pleasedon'tbemad,"shefinallysays,gazingatmewitheyessowideandsomberit'slikeapunch

inthegut."ButIspentthedaywithAva."

I press my lips, thinking: I don't want to hear this. I absolutely do not want to hear this! I grip the

counterandbraceforwhatfollows.

"I know you don't like her, but she has some good points, and she's really making me think about

things.Youknow,thechoicesI'vemade.And,well,themoreIthinkaboutit,themoreIrealizeshejust
mightberight."

"Whatcouldshepossiblyberightabout?"Iask,talkingpastthelumpinmythroat,thinkingthisday's

gonefromreallybad,toextremelybadandit'salongwayfromover.

Rileylooksatme,thenglancesaway,herfingersstilltracingthoserandomswirls,asshesays,'Ava

saysIshouldn'tbehere.ThatI'mnotsupposedtobehere."

''Andwhatdoyousay?"Isuckinmybreath,wishingshe'dstoptalkingandtakeitallback.There's

nowayIcanloseher,notnow,notever.She'sallIhaveleft.

Her fingers stop moving as she looks up at me. "I say I like being here. I say that even though I'll

nevergettobeateenager,atleastIcankindofliveitthroughyou.Youknow,vicariously."

Andeventhoughhercommentmakesmefeelguiltyandhorrible,andconfirmsallmythoughts,Itry

tolightentheloadwhenIsay,"Jeez,Riley,youcouldn'thavepickedaworseexample."

Sherollshereyesandgroans."Tellme."Buteventhoughshelaughs,thelightinhereyesisquickly

extinguishedwhenshesays,

"Butwhatifshe'sright?Imean,whatifitiswrongformetobehereallthetime?"
"Riley—"Istart,butthenthedoorbellrings,andwhenIglanceatheragain,she'sgone.
"Riley!"Iyell,gazingaroundthekitchen."Riley!"Ishout,hopingshe'llreappear.Ican'tleaveitlike

that.Irefusetoleaveitlikethat.ButthemoreIshout,yell,andscreamforhertoreturn,themoreIrealize
I'mshoutingatair.

Andasthedoorbellcontinuestoring,onetime,followedbytwo,IknowHaven'soutside,andIneed

toletherin.

"Thegateguardwavedmethrough,"shesays,stormingintothehouse,herfaceamessofmascara

andtears,hernewlyredhairatangled-upmess."TheyfoundEvangeline.She'sdead."

"What?Areyousure?"IstarttoshutthedoorbehindherwhenDamendrivesup,leapsfromhiscar,

andrunstowardus."Evangeline—"Istart,soshockedbythenewsI'veforgottenI'vedecidedtohatehim.

HenodsandmovestowardHaven,peeringatherashesays,'Areyouokay?"
Sheshakesherheadandwipesherface."Yeah,Imean,it'snotlikeIknewherallthatwell,weonly

hungoutafewtimes,butstill.It'ssoawful,andthefactthatImayhavebeenthelastonetoseeher..."

"Surelyyouweren'tthelasttoseeher."
IgapeatDamen,wonderingifhemeantitassomekindofsickjoke,buthisfaceisdeadlyserious,

andhisgazefaraway.

"Ijust—Ijustfeelsoresponsible,"shemumbles,buryingherfaceinherhands,groaningohGod,oh

God,ohGod,overandoveragain.

Imovetowardher,wantingtocomfortherinsomeway,butthensheliftsherhead,wipeshereyes,

andsays,"I—Ijustthoughtyoushouldknow,butIshouldgetgoing,IneedtogettoDrina's."Sheraises
herhandandjanglesherkeys.

Hearing her say that is like fuel for the fire, and I narrow my eyes at Darnen, staring accusingly.

BecauseeventhoughHaven'sfriendshipwithDrinaseemslikeafluke,I'msurethatitisn't.Ican'tshake
the feeling it's somehow connected. But Damen ignores me as he grabs Haven's arm and peers at her
wrist.

"Where'd you get that?" he says, his voice tight, controlled, but with an undercurrent of edge,

reluctantlylettinggoassheyanksfreeandcoversitwithherhand.

"It's fine," she says, clearly annoyed. "Drina gave me something to put on it, some salve, said it

wouldtakeaboutthreedaystowork."

Damenclencheshisjawsotighthisteethgnashtogether.
"Doyouhappentohaveitwithyou?Thissalve?"
She shakes her head and moves for the door. "No, I left it at home. I mean, jeez, what's with you

guys,anyway?Anymorequestions?"Sheturns,hereyesdartingbetweenus,herauraabrightflamingred.
"BecauseIdon'tappreciatebeinginterrogatedlikethis.Imean,theonlyreasonIstoppedbyinthefirst
place was because I thought you might want to know about Evangeline, but since all you want to do is
gawkatmytattooandmakestupidcomments,IthinkI'lljustgo."Shestormstowardhercar.

And even though I call after her, she just shakes her head and ignores me. And I can't help but

wonderwhathappenedtomyfriend.She'ssomoody,sodistant,andIrealizeshe'sbeenlosttomefora
whilenowEversinceshemetDrina,IfeellikeIhardlyevenknowher.

Iwatchasshegetsinhercar,slamsthedoor,andbacksdownthedrive.ThenIturntoDamenand

say,"Well,thatwaspleasant.Evangeline'sdead,Havenhatesme,andyouleftmealoneinacave.Ihope
youatleastcaughtsomekillerwaves."Ifoldmyarmsacrossmychestandshakemyhead.

"Asamatteroffact,Idid,"hesays,gazingatmeintently.
"AndwhenIreturnedtothecaveIsawyouhadleftandIracedrightover."
Ilookathim,myeyesnarrowed,mylipspressedtogether.Ican'tbelieveheactuallyexpectsmeto

believethat.

"Sorry, but I looked, and there were only two surfers out there. Two blond surfers, which pretty

muchrulesouteitheroneofthembeingyou."

"Ever,wouldyoulookatme"hesays."Reallylookatme.HowdoyouthinkIgotthisway?"
SoIdo,Ilowermyglaretotakeitallin.Noticinghiswetsuitthat'sdrippingsaltwateralloverthe

floor.

"ButIchecked.Iranupanddownthebeach,Ilookedeverywhere,"Isay,convincedofwhatIsaw,

orinthiscase,didn'tsee.

But he just shrugs. "Ever, I don't know what to tell you, but I didn't abandon you. I was surfing.

Really.Now,canyoupleasegetmeatowel,andmaybeanotherforthefloor?"

We head into the backyard so he can hose down his wet suit, while I sit on the lounge chair and

watchhim.Iwassosurehe'dditchedme.Ilookedeverywhere.ButmaybeIdidmisshim.Imean,itisa
longbeach.AndIwasreallyangry.

"Sohow'dyouknowaboutEvangeline?"Iask,watchingashedrapeshiswetsuitovertheoutdoor

bar,unwillingtoletgoofmyangerquitesoeasily.'Andwhat'supwithDrinaandHavenandthatcreepy
tattoo?And,justfortherecord,I'mnotsureIbuyyourstoryaboutsurfing,seriously.Becausebelieveme,
Ichecked,andyouwerenowhereinsight."

Helooksatme,hisdeepdarkeyesobscuredbyarimoflushlashes,hislean,sinuousbodywrapped

inatowel.Andwhenhemovestowardme,hisstepissolightandsure,he'sasgracefulasanyjunglecat.

"Thisismyfault,"hefinallysays,shakinghisheadashesitsdownbesideme,foldingmyhandsinto

his,butthendroppingthemjustasquickly."I'mnotsurehowmuch..."hestarts,andwhenhefinallylooks
atme,hiseyesaresadderthanIevercould'veimagined."Maybeweshouldn'tdothis,"hefinallysays.

''Are you—are you breaking up with me?" I whisper, the wind rushing right out of me, like an ill-

fatedballoon.Allmysuspicionsconfirmed:Drina,thebeach,allofit.Everything.

"No,Ijust..."Heturnsaway,leavingboththesentence,andme,todangle.
And when it's clear he has no plans to continue I say, "You know, it would really be nice if you'd

stoptalkingincode,finishasentence,andtellmewhattheheckisgoingon.BecauseallIknowisthat
Evangelineisdead,Haven'swristisaredoozingmess,youditchedmeatthebeachbecauseIwouldn't
goalltheway,andnowyou'rebreakingupwithme."Iglareathim,waitingforsomeconfirmationthat
these seemingly random events are easily explained and not at all related. Even though my gut says
otherwise.

He's silent for a while, staring at the pool, but when he finally looks at me he says, "None of it's

related." Though he hesitated for so long I'm not sure I believe him. Then he takes a deep breath and
continues."TheyfoundEvangeline'sbodyinMalibucanyon.IwasonmywayherewhenIhearditonthe
radio," he says, his voice becoming sure, steady, as he visibly relaxes and regains control. ' And yes,
Haven'swristdoesappeartobeinfected,butsometimesthosethingshappen."HebreaksmygazeandI
suckinmybreath,waitingfortherest,thepartaboutme.Thenhegrabsmyhandandcoversitwithhis,
flipping it over and tracing the lines on my palm as he says, "Drina can be charismatic, charming and
Haven'sabitofalostsoul.I'msureshejustlikestheattention.Ithoughtyou'dbegladshetransferredher
affectionstoDrinafromme."Hesqueezesmyfingersandsmiles."Nowthere'snoonestandingbetween
us."

"But maybe there's something standing between us?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper. Knowing I

should be more concerned with Haven's wrist and Evangeline's death, but unable to focus on anything
other than the planes of his face, his smooth dark skin, his deep narrowed eyes, and the way my heart
surges,mybloodrushes,andmylipsswellinanticipationofhis.

"Ever,Ididn'tditchyoutoday.AndI'dneverpushyoutodoanythingyouweren'treadyfor.Believe

me."Hesmiles,cradlingmyfaceinthepalmsofhishandsashislipspartagainstmine.

"Iknowhowtowait."

ChapterTwenty-Two

Even though Haven refused to answer our calls, we managed to get a hold of Miles. And after

convincinghimtostopbyafterrehearsals,heshowedupwithEric,andthefourofusspentareallyfun
nighteatingandswimmingandwatchingbadscarymovies.Anditwassonicetohangoutwithmyfriends
in such a nice relaxed way, that it almost made me forget about Riley, Haven, Evangeline, Drina, the
beach—and all of that afternoon's drama. Almost made me oblivious to the faraway look Damen got
wheneverhethoughtnoonewaslooking.Almostmademeignoretheundercurrentofworrybubblingjust
underthesurface.Almost.Butnotquite.AndeventhoughImadeitperfectlyclearthatSabinewasoutof
townandDamenwasmorethanwelcometostay,hestayedjustlongenoughformetofallasleep,thenhe
quietlylethimselfout.

Sothenextmorning,whenheshowsuponmydoorstepwithcoffee,muffins,andasmile,Ican'thelp

butfeelalittlerelieved.

WetrytocallHavenagain,andevenleaveamessageortwo,butit'snotlikeittakesapsychicto

know she doesn't want to speak to either of us. And when I finally call her house and talk to her little
brother,Austin,Icantellhe'snotlyingwhenhesayshehasn'tseenher.

Soafterafulldayofloungingoutsidebythepool,I'mjustabouttoorderanotherpizzawhenDamen

grabsthephoneoutofmyhandandsays,"IthoughtI'dmakedinner."

"Youcancook?"Iask,thoughIdon'tknowwhyI'msurprised,becausethetruthis,I'veyettofind

anythinghecan'tdo."I'llletyoubethejudgeofthat."Hesmiles.

"Doyouneedhelp?"Ioffer,eventhoughmykitchenskillsareseverelylimitedtoboilingwaterand

addingmilktocereal.

Buthejustshakeshisheadandheadsforthestove,soIgoupstairstoshowerandchange,andwhen

hecallsmedownfordinner,I'mamazedtofindthediningroomtabledressedwithSabine'sfinestchina,
linens,candles,andalargecrystalvasefilledwithdozensof—bigsurprise—redtulips.

"Mademoiselle."Hesmilesandpullsoutmychair,hisFrenchaccentliltingandperfect.
"Ican'tbelieveyoudidthis."Igazeattheheapingplatterslinedupbeforeme,sopiledwithfoodI

wonderifwe'reexpectingguests.

"It'sallforyou."Hesmiles,answeringthequestionIhadn'tyetasked.
"Just me? Aren't you going to have any?" I watch as he fills my plate with perfectly prepared

vegetables,finelygrilledmeats,andasaucesorichandcomplexIdon'tevenknowwhatitis.

"Ofcourse."Hesmiles."ButmostlyImadeitforyou.Agirlcan'tliveonpizzaalone,youknow."
"You'dbesurprised."Ilaugh,cuttingintoajuicypieceofgrilledmeat.

While we eat, I ask questions. Taking advantage of the fact that he's barely touching his food by

askingallofthethingsI'vebeendyingtoknowbutalwaysseemtoforgetthemomentbelooksinmyeyes.
Thingsabouthisfamily,hischildhood,theconstantmoves,theemancipation—partlybecauseI'mcurious,
but mostly because it feels weird to be in a relationship with someone I know so little about. And the
morewetalk,themoresurprisedIambyhowmuchWeshareincommon.Foronething,bothofusare
orphaned,thoughheatamuchyoungerage.Andeventhoughhe'salittlesketchyonthedetails,it'snot
likeIvolunteertotalkaboutmysituationeither,soIdon'treallypushit.

"Sowhere'dyoulikebest?"Iask,havingjustcleanedmyplateofeverylastmorselandfeelingthe

beginningsofanicelanguidfullness.

"Right here." He smiles, having barely eaten a thing but making a pretty good show of moving his

foodallaround.

I squint my eyes, not quite believing it. "I mean, sure, Orange County's nice, but it can't possibly

comparetoallofthoseexcitingEuropeancities,canit?"

"Seriously.I'mveryhappyhere."Henods,lookingrightatme.
"Andyouweren'thappyinRome,Paris,NewDelhi,orNewYork?"
Heshrugs,hiseyessuddenlytingedwithsadnessastheydriftawayfrommineandhetakesasipof

hisstrangereddrink.

"Andwhatexactlyisthat?"Iask,peeringatthebottle.
"Youmeanthis?"hesmiles,holdingitupformetosee.
"Secretfamilyrecipe."Heswirlsthecontentsaround,andIwatchasthecolorglowsandsparksas

it runs up the sides and splashes back down. Looking like a cross between lightning, wine, and blood
mixedwiththetiniesthintofdiamonddust.

"CanItryit?"Iask,notentirelysurethatIwantto,butstillcurious.
He shakes his head. "You won't like it. Tastes just like medicine. But that's probably because it is

medicine."

MystomachsinksasIgapeathim,imaginingawholehostofincurablediseases,horribleafflictions,

graveailments—Iknewhewastoogoodtobetrue.

Buthejustshakeshisheadandlaughsashereachesformyhand."Noworries.Ijustgetalittlelow

onenergysometimes.Andthishelps."

"Wheredoyougetit?:'Isquint,searchingforalabel,animprint,somekindofmark,butthebottleis

clear,smooth,andappearsalmostseamless.

Hesmiles."Itoldyou,secretfamilyrecipe,"hesays,takingalongdeepswigand.finishingitoff.

Thenhepushesawayfromthetableandhisstill-fullplate,ashesays,"Shallwegoforaswim?"

"Aren'tyousupposedtowaitanhouraftereating?"Iask,peeringathim.
Buthejustsmilesandreachesformyhand."Don'tworry.Iwon'tletyoudrown."
Sincewespentmostofthedayinthepool,wedecidetohangintheJacuzziinstead.Andwhenour

fingersandtoesstarttoresemblesmallprunes,wewrapourselvesinoversizedtowelsandheaduptomy
room.

Hefollowsmeintomybathroom.Idropmydamptowelonthefloor,thenhecomesupbehindme,

pullsmetohim,andholdsmesocloseourbodiesmeldrighttogether.Andwhenhislipsbrushacrossthe
napeofmyneck,IknowIbetterlaydownsomegroundruleswhilemybrainisstillworking.

"Um,you'rewelcometostay,"Imumble,pullingaway,mycheeksburningwithembarrassmentwhen

Imeethisamused,gaze."Imean,whatImeanttosaywas,Iwantyoutostay.Ido.But,well,I'mnotsure
thatweshould—youknow—"

Oh god, what am I saying? Um, hello, like he doesn't know what I mean; Like he wasn't the one

gettingpushedawayinthecaveandjustabouteverywhereelse.Whatiswithyou?

Whatareyoudoing?Anygirlwouldkillforamomentlikethis,along,lazyweekendwithnoparents

orchaperonesandyet,hereIam,enforcingsomestupidsetofrules—fornogoodreason.

He places his finger under my chin and lifts my face until it's level with his. "Ever, please, we've

beenoverthis,"hewhispers,tuckingmyhairbehindmyearandbringinghislipstomyneck."Iknowhow
towait,really.I'vealreadywaitedthislongtofindyou—Icanwaitevenmore."

With Damen's warm body curled around mine, and his reassuring breath in my ear, I fall right to

sleep.AndeventhoughIwasworriedI'dbewaytoofreakedbyhispresencetogetanyrest,it'sthewarm
securefeelingofhavinghimrighttherebesidemethathelpsmedriftoff.ButwhenIwakeat3:45A.M.,
only to discover he's no longer there, I throw the covers aside and rush to the window, reliving that
momentinthecavealloveragainasIsearchthedriveforhiscar,surprisedtofindit'sstillthere.

"Lookingforme?"heasks.
Iturntofindhimstandinginthedoorway,myheartbeatingwildly,myfacegonecrimson.
"Oh, I—I rolled over and you weren't there, and—" I press my lips, feeling ridiculous, small,

embarrassinglyneedy.

"Iwentdownstairsforsomewater."Hesmiles,takingmyhandandleadingmebacktothebed.
But as I lay down beside him, my hand drifts to his side, brushing across sheets so cold and

abandoned,itseemshe'sbeengoneforamuchlongertime.

ThesecondtimeIwake,I'maloneagain.ButwhenIhearDamenbangingaroundinthekitchen,Ipull

onmyrobeandheaddownstairstoinvestigate.

"Howlonghaveyoubeenup?"Iask,gazingataspotlesskitchen,thepreviousnight'smesshaving

vanished,replacedbyalineupofdonuts,bagels,andcerealsthatdidn'toriginateinmycupboard.

"I'manearlyriser."Heshrugs."SoIthoughtI'dcleanupabitbeforerunningtothestore.Imayhave

gone a little overboard, but I didn't know what you'd want." He smiles, coming around the counter and
kissingmeonthecheek.

Isipfromtheglassoffresh-squeezedorangejuicehesetsbeforemeandask,"Wantsome?Orare

youstillfasting?"

"Fasting?"Heliftshisbrowandgazesatme.
Irollmyeyes."Please.YoueatlessthananyoneIknow.Youjustsipyour...medicineandpushyour

foodallaround.Ifeellikeacompletepignexttoyou."

"Isthisbetter?"Hesmiles,pickingupadonutandbitingitinhalf,hisjawworkingovertimetobreak

downtheglazed,doughymass.

I shrug and gaze out the window; still unused to this California weather, a seemingly endless

successionofwarmsunnydays,eventhoughsoonitwillofficiallybewinter.

"So,whatshouldwedotoday?"Iask,turningtolookathim.
Hegazes'athiswatchandthenbackatme."Ineedtotakeoffsoon."
"ButSabinewon'tbebackuntillate,"Isay,hatinghowmyvoicesoundssowhinyandneedy,andthe

waymystomachcurlswhenhejangleshiskeys.

"I need to get home and take care of a few things. Especially if you want to see me at school

tomorrow"hesays,hislipsgrazingmycheek,myear,thenapeofmyneck.

"Oh, school. Do we still go there?" I laugh, having successfully avoided thinking about my recent

boutoftruancy,andtherepercussionstofollow.

"You're the one who thinks it's important." He shrugs. "If it was up to me, every day would be

Saturday."

"But then Saturday wouldn't be special. It'd all be the same," I say, picking off a piece of glazed

donut."Anever-endingflowoflonglazydays,nothingtoworktoward,nothingtolookforwardto,just
onehedonisticmomentafteranother.Afterawhile,itwouldn'tbesogreat."

"Don'tbesosure."Hesmiles.
"Sowhatexactlyarethesemysteriouschoresofyours,anyway?"Iask,hopingtogetaglimpseinto

hislife,ofthemoremundanethingsthatoccupyhistimewhenhe'snotwithme.

He shrugs. "You know, stuff" And even though he laughs when he says it, it's pretty obvious he's

readytoleave.

"Well,maybeIcan—"ButbeforeIcanevenfinishthesentencehe'salreadyshakinghishead.
"Forgetit.Youarenotdoingmylaundry."Heshiftshisweightfromonefoottotheother,asthough

warmingupforarace.

"ButIwanttoseewhereyoulive.I'veneverbeeninthehomeofsomeonewho'semancipated,and

I'mcurious."AndeventhoughItriedtosoundlighthearted,itcameoutmorewhinyanddesperate.

Heshakeshisheadandgazesatthedoorasthoughit'sapotentialloverhecan'twaittomeet.And

eventhoughit'sobviouslytimetowavemywhiteflagandcryuncle,Ican'tkeepfromgivingitonelastgo
whenIsay,"Butwhy?"ThenIpeerathim,waitingforareason.

Helooks,atme,hisjawtensewhenhesays,"Becauseit'samess.Ahorriblefilthymess.AndIdon't

wantyoutoseeitlikethatandgetthewrongideaaboutme.Besides,I'llneverbeabletostraightenitup
with you around, you'll only distract me." He smiles, but his lips are stretched tight and his eyes are
impatient,andit'sclearthey'rejustwordsmeanttofillupthespacebetweennowandwhenhefinallygets
toleave."I'llcallyoutonight,"hesays,showingmehisbackasheheadsforthedoor.

"AndwhatifIdecidetofollowyou?Whatwillyoudothen?"Iask,mynervouslaughterhaltingthe

secondheturnsbacktome.

"Don'tfollowme,Ever."
Andthewayhesaysitmakesmewonderifhesaid,Don'tfollowmeever,orDon'tfollowme,Ever.

Buteitherway,itmeansthesamething.

WhenDamenleaves,IpickupthephoneandtrytocallHaven,butwhenitgoesstraightintovoice

mail,Idon'tbotherwithleavinganothermessage.Becausethetruthis,I'veleftseveralalready,andnow
it'suptohertocallme.SoafterIheadupstairsandshower,Isitatmydesk,determinedtogetthroughmy
homework,butnotgettingveryfarbeforemythoughtsreturntoDamen,andallofhisweird,mysterious
quirksthatIcannolongerignore.Stufflike:HowdoeshealwaysseemtoknowjustwhatI'mthinking
whenIcan'tgettheslightestreadonhim?Andhow,injustseventeenshortyears,didhefindtimetolive
in all of those exotic places, mastering art, soccer, surfing, cooking, literature, world history, and just
abouteveryothersubjectIcanthinkof?Andwhat'supwiththewayhemovessofastheactuallyblurs?
Andwhatabouttherosebudsandtulipsandmagicalpen?Nottomentionhowoneminutehe'stalkinglike
a normal guy, and the next he sounds like Heathcliff, or Darcy, or some other character from a Bronte
sister's book. Add to that the time he acted like he saw Riley, the fact that he has no aura, the fact that
Drinahasnoaura,thefactthatIknowhe'shidingsomethingabouthowhereallyknowsher—andnowhe
doesn'twantmetoknowwherehelives?Afterweslepttogether?

Okay,maybeallwedidwassleep,butstill,IthinkIdeserveanswerstoatleastsome(ifnotall)of

myquestions.AndeventhoughI'mnotreallyupforbreakingintotheschoolandsearchingforhisrecord,
Iknowsomeonewhois.OnlyI'mnotsureIshouldinvolveRileyinthis.NottomentionhowIdon'teven
knowhowtosummonhersinceI'veneverhadtobefore.Imean,doIcallouthername?Lightacandle?
Closemyeyesandmakeawish?

Sincelightingacandleseemsalittlehokey,Isettleforjuststandinginthemiddleofmyroom,eyes

shuttight,asIsay,

"Riley?Riley,ifyoucanhearmeIreallyneedtotalktoyou.Well,actuallyIkindofneedafavor.

Butifyoudon'twanttodoit,thenItotallyunderstand,andtherewillbenohardfeelings,sinceIknowit's
alittleweird,andum,Ifeelkindofdumbrightnow,standingheretalkingtomyself,soifyoucanhear
me,couldyoumaybegivemesomekindofsign?"

And when my stereo suddenly blasts the Kelly Clarkson song she always used to sing, I open my

eyesandseeherstandingbeforeme,laughinghysterically.

"Omigod—youlookedlikeyourweretwosecondsawayfromclosingtheblinds,lightingacandle,

andpullingtheOuijaboardoutfromunderthebed!"Sheshakesherheadandlooksatme.

"Ohjeez,Ifeellikeanidiot,"Isay,myfaceturningred.
"Youkindoflookedlikeanidiot."Shelaughs."Okay,soletmegetthisstraight,youwanttocorrupt

yourlittlesisterbymakingherspyonyourboyfriend?"

"How'dyouknow?"Istareather,amazed.
"Please."Sherollshereyesandplopsdownonmybed.
"Youthinkyou'retheonlyonearoundherewhocanreadminds?"
"Andhow'dyouknowthat?"Iask,wonderingwhatelseshemightknow.
"Ava told me. But please don't be mad, because it really does explain some of your more recent

fashionblunders."

"Andwhataboutyourmorerecentfashionblunders?"Isay,motioningtoherStarWarsgetup.
Butshejustshrugs."Soyouwannaknowwheretofindyourboyfriendornot?"
Imovetothebedandsitdownbesideher."Honestly?I'mnotsure.Imean,yeahIwanttoknow;butI

don'tfeelrightaboutinvolvingyou."

"ButwhatifIalreadydidit?WhatifIalreadyknow?"shesays,wigglingherbrows.
"Youbrokeintotheschool?"Iask,wonderingwhatelseshe'sbeenuptosincewelasttalked.
Butshejustlaughs."Evenbetter,Ifollowedhimhome,"Igapeather."Butwhen?Andhow?"she

shakesherhead.

"Comeon,Ever,it'snotlikeIneedwheelstogetwhereIwanttogo.Besides,Iknowhowyou'reall

inlovewithhim,andit'snotlikeIblameyou,heisprettydreamy.Butrememberthatdaywhenheacted
likehesawme?"Inod.Imean,howcouldIforget?

"Well,itfreakedmeout.So,Idecidedtodoalittleinvestigation."
Ileantowardher."And?"
"And, well, I'm not sure how to say this, and I hope you won't take it the wrong way, but—he's a

littleodd."Sheshrugs."Imean,helivesinthisbighouseoverinNewportCoast,whichisstrangeenough
consideringhisageandall.Imeanwheredoeshegetthemoney?Becauseit'snotlikeheworks."

Irememberthatdayatthetrack.Butdecidenottomentionit.
"Butthat'snoteventhestrangestpart,"shecontinues.
"Becausewhat'sreallyweirdisthatthehouseiscompletelyempty.Like,nofurniturewhatsoever."
"Well,heisaguy,"Isay,wonderingwhyIfeeltheneedtodefendhim.
Sheshakesherhead."Yeah,butI'mtalkingseriouslyweird.Imean,theonlythingsinthereareone

ofthoseiPodwalldocksandaflat-screenTV.Seriously.That'sit.Andbelieveme,Icheckedthewhole
house.Well,otherthanthisoneroomthatwaslocked."

"Since when do locked rooms stop you?" I say, having seen her walk through plenty of walls this

pastyear.

"Believeme,itwasn'tthedoorthatstoppedme.Itwasmethatstoppedme.Imean,jeez,justbecause

I'mdeaddoesn'tmeanIcan'tgetscared,"Sheshakesherheadandscowlsatme.

"But, he hasn't really lived here all that long," I say, rushing to make more excuses, like the worst

kind of codependent fool. "So maybe he just hasn't gotten around to furnishing it yet. I mean, that's
probablywhyhedoesn'twantmetocomeover;hedoesn'twantmetoseeitlikethat."AndwhenIreplay
mywordsinmyhead,Ican'thelpbutthink:Oh,God,I'mevenworsethanIthought.

Rileyshakesherheadandlooksatmelikeshe'sabouttoletmeinonthetruthbehindthetoothfairy,

theEasterbunny,andSanta,allinonesitting.Butthenshejustshrugsandsays,"Maybeyoushouldsee
foryourself."

"Whatdoyoumean?"Iask,knowingshe'sholdingsomethingback.
Butshegetsupfromthebedandgoesovertothemirror,gazingatherreflectionandadjustingher

costume.

"Riley?"Isay,wonderingwhyshe'sactingsomysterious.
"Listen,"shesays,finallyturningtowardme."MaybeI'mwrong.Imean,whatdoIknow;I'mjusta

kid."Sheshrugs.

"Andit'sprobablynothing,but..."
Shetakesadeepbreath."ButIthinkyoushouldseeforyourself"
"Sohowdowegetthere?"Iask,alreadyupandreachingforthekeys.
Sheshakesherhead."Noway.Forgetit.I'mconvincedhecanseeme."
"Wellweknowhecanseeme,"Iremindher.
Butshestandsfirm."Sonothappening.ButI'lldrawyouamap."
Since Riley's not so great at drawing maps, she settles for making a list of street names instead,

indicatingtheirleftandrightturns,sincenorth,south,east,andwestalwaysconfuseme.

"Sureyoudon'twanttocome?"Ioffer,grabbingmybagandheadingoutofmyroom.
Shenodsandfollowsmedownstairs."Hey;Ever?"Iturn.
"Youcould'vetoldmeaboutallthepsychicstuff.Ifeelbadaboutmakingfunofyourclothes."
Iopenthefrontdoorandshrug."Canyoureallyreadmymind?"
Sheshakesherheadandsmiles."Onlywhenyou'retryingtocommunicatewithme.Ifigureditwas

justamatteroftimebeforeyou'dwantmetospyonhim."Shelaughs.

"But,Ever?"
Iturntolookatheragain.
"IfIdon'tcomearoundforawhile,it'snotbecauseI'mmadatyouortryingtopunishyouoranything

likethat,okay?IpromiseI'llstilllookinandmakesureyou'reallrightandstuff,but,well,Imightbe
goneforawhile.Imightbekindofbusy."

Ifreeze,thefirsthintofpanicbeginningtostir."Youarecomingbackthough,right?"
Shenods."It'sjust,well..."Sheshrugs."IpromiseI'llbeback,Ijustdon'tknowwhen."Andeven

thoughshesmiles,it'sobviouslyforced.

"You'renotleavingme,areyou?"Iholdmybreath,exhalingonlywhensheshakesherhead.
"Okay; well, good luck then," I say, wishing I could hug her, hold her, convince her to stay, but

knowingthat'snotpossible,Iheadformycarandstarttheengineinstead.

ChapterTwenty-Three

Damenlivesinagatedcommunity.AdetailRileyfailedtoreveal.Iguesssincethepresenceofbig

irongatesanduniformedguardscouldneverstopsomeonelikeher,itdidn'tseemveryimportant.Though
Iguessitdoesn'treallystopsomeonelikemeeither,sinceIjustsmileattheattendant,andsay,"Hi,I'm
Megan Foster. I'm here to see Jody Howard." Then I watch as she scrolls down her computer screen,
searchingforthenameIjusthappentoknowislistedasentrynumberthree.

"Leavethisinyourwindow,onthedriver'sside,"shesays,handingmeapieceofyellowpaper,the

wordVISITORandthedatedearlymarkedonitsfront."Andnoparkingontheleftsideofthestreet,right
sideonly."Shenods,returningtoherboothasIdrivethroughtheopengate,hopingshewon'tnoticewhen
IpassrightbyJody'sstreetasImakemywaytowardDamen's.

I'vealmostreachedthetopofthehillwhenIseethenextstreetonmylist,andaftermakingaleft,

quickly followed by another, I stop at the end of his block, kill the engine, and realize I've lost all my
nerve.

Imean,whatkindofpsychogirlfriendamI?Whointheirrightmindwouldeventhinkofenlisting

their dead little sister to help spy on their boyfriend? But then again, it's not like anything in my life is
remotelynormal,sowhyshouldmyrelationshipsbeanydifferent?

I sit in my car, focusing on my breath, fighting to keep it slow and steady despite the fact that my

heart is pounding like crazy and my palms are slick with sweat. And as I gaze around his clean, tidy,
affluentneighborhoodIrealizeIcouldn'thavepickedaworsedaytodothis.

Firstofall,it'shot,sunny,andglorious,whichmeanseveryone'seitherridingtheirbikes,walking

theirdogs,orworkingintheirgardens,whichprettymuchmakesforsomeoftheworstspyingconditions
you could ask for. And since I spent the entire drive just concentrating on getting here and not even
consideringwhatI'ddoonceImadeit,it'snotlikeIhaveaplan.

Though it probably doesn't matter much anyway. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? I get

caughtandDamenconfirmsI'mafreak?Aftermyclingy,needy,desperateactthismorning,he'sprobably
alreadythere.

Iclimboutofmycarandheadtowardhishouse,theoneattheveryendofthecul-de-sacwiththe

tropicalplantsandmanicuredlawn.ButIdon'tcreep,orskulk,ordoanythingthatwilldrawunwanted
attention, I just stroll right along, as though I have every right to be there, until I'm standing before his
largedoubledoorswonderingwhattodonext.

Itakeastepbackandgazeupatthewindows,theirblindsdrawn,drapesclosed,andeventhough

I'venoideawhatI'llsay,Ibitedownonmylip,pushthebell,holdmybreath,andwait.

Butafterafewminutespasswithnoanswer,Iringagain.
And when he still doesn't answer, I turn the handle, confirm that it's locked, then I head down the

walk, making sure none of the neighbors are watching as I slip through the side gate and slink around
back.

Istayclosetothehouse,barelyglancingatthepool,theplants,andtheamazingwhitewaterview,as

Igostraightfortheslidingglassdoor,which,ofcourse,islockedtoo.

Then just as I'm ready to cut my losses and head home, I hear this voice in my head urging—the

window,theonebythesink.Andsureenough,Ifinditcrackedjustenoughtoslipmyfingersunderand
opentherestoftheway.Iplacemyhandsontheledgeanduseallofmystrengthtohoistmyselfin.And
thesecondmyfeethitthefloorI'veofficiallycrossedovertheline.

Ishouldn'tcontinue.Ihavenorighttodothis.Ishouldclimbrightbackoutandmakearunformy

car.GetbacktomysafequiethousewhileIstillcan.Butthatlittlevoiceinmyheadisurgingmeon,and
sinceitgotmethisfar,IfigureImayaswellseewhereitleads.

Iexplorethelargeemptykitchen,thebareden,thediningroomdevoidoftableandchairs,andthe

bathroom with only a small bar of soap and a Single black towel, thinking how Riley was right—this
place is vacant in a way that seems abandoned and creepy, with no personal mementos, no photos, no
books. Nothing but dark wood floors, off-white walls, bare cupboards, a fridge stuffed with countless
bottlesofthatweirdredliquid,andnothingmore.AndwhenIgettothemediaroom,Iseetheflat-screen
TV

Riley mentioned, a recliner she didn't mention, and a large pile of foreign-language DVDs whose

titlesIcan'ttranslate.ThenIpauseatthebottomofthestairsknowingIshouldleave,thatI'veseenmore
thanenough,butsomethingIcan'tquitedefineurgesmeon.

Igripthebanister,cringingasthestairsgroanbeneathme,theirhigh-pitchedprotestalarminglyloud

inthisvastvacantspace.AndwhenImakemywaytothelanding,IcomefacetofacewiththedoorRiley
foundlocked.Onlythistimeit'sleftopen,pushedslightlyajar.

Icreeptowardit,summoningthevoiceinmyhead,desperateforsomekindofguidance.Buttheonly

answerIgetisthesoundofmyownbeatingheartasIpressmypalmflatagainstit,thengaspasitopens
toaroomsoornate,soformal,sogrand,itseemsstraightoutofVersailles.

Ipauseinthedoorway,strugglingtotakeitallin.Thefinelywoventapestries,theantiquerugs,the

crystalchandeliers,thegoldencandelabras,theheavysilkdraperies,thevelvetsettee,themarble-topped
table piled with tomes. Even the walls, the entire area between the wainscoting and crown molding is
covered by large gilt-framed paintings—all of them capturing Damen in costumes that span several
centuries,includingoneofhimastrideawhitestallion,silverswordbyhisside,wearingtheexactsame
jacketheworeHalloweennight.

Imovetowardit,myeyesseekingtheholeontheshoulder,thefrayedspothejokinglyblamedon

artillery fire. Startled to find it right there in the picture, as I run my finger along it, spellbound,
mesmerized,wonderingwhatkindoffreakyelaboraterusehe'sconcoctedasmyfingertipsgrazeallthe
waydowntothesmallbrassplaqueatthebottomthatreads:

DAMENAUGUSTEESPOSITO,MAY1775

Iturntotheonebesideit,myheartracingasIgazeataportraitofanunsmilingDamen,cloakedina

severedarksuit,surroundedbyblue,itsplaquebearingthewords:

DAMENAUGUSTEASPAINTEDBYPABLOPICASSOINI902

Andtheonenexttothat,itsheavilytexturedswirlsformingthelikenessof

DAMENESPOSITOASPAINTEDBYVINCENTVANGOGH

And on it goes, all four walls displaying Damen's likeness painted by all the great masters, I sink

onto the velvet settee, eyes bleary, knees weak, my mind racing with a thousand possibilities, each of
themequallyridiculous.ThenIgraspthebooknearesttome,fliptothetitlepage,andread:

ForDamenAugusteEsposito.SignedbyWilliamShakespeare.

Idropittothefloorandreachforthenext,

WutheringHeights,forDamenAuguste,signedbyEmilyBronte.

Every book made out to Damen Auguste Esposito, or Damen Auguste, or just Damen. All of them

signed by an author who's been dead for more than a century. I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on
slowing my breath as my heart races, my hands shake, telling myself it's all some kind of joke, that
Damen'ssomefreakyhistorybuff,antiquecollector,anartcounterfeiterwho'sgonetoofar.Perhapsthese
areprizedfamilyheirlooms,leftfromalonglineofgreat,great,great,grandfathers,allbearingthesame
nameanduncannyresemblance.

ButwhenIlookaroundagain,thechilldownmyspinetellstheundeniabletruth—thesearen'tmerely

antiques, nor are they heirlooms. These are Damen's personal possessions, the favored treasures he's
collected through the years. I stagger to my feet and stumble into the hall, feeling shaky, unstable,
desperatetoescapethiscreepyroom,thishideous,gaudy,overstuffedmausoleum,thiscrypt-likehouse.
Wanting to put as much distance between us as I possibly can, and to never, ever, under any
circumstances,comebackhereagain.

I've just reached the bottom stair when I hear a loud piercing scream followed by a long muffled

moan,andwithouteventhinking,Iturnandracetowardit,followingthesoundtotheendofthehalland
rushingthroughthedoor,findingDamenonthefloor,hisclothestorn,hisfacedrippingwithblood,while
Haventhrashesandmoansunderneathhim.

"Ever!"heshouts,springingtohisfeetandholdingmebackasIlunge,fight,andkick,desperateto

gettoher.

"Whathaveyoudonetoher?"Ishout,glancingbetweenthem,seeingherpaleskin,hereyesrolling

backinherhead,andknowingthere'snotimetowaste.

"Ever, please, stop," he says, his voice sounding too sure, too measured for the incriminating

circumstanceshe'sin.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?!!" I scream, kicking, hitting, biting, screaming, scratching,

usingeveryounceofmystrength,butit'snomatchforhim.Hejuststandsthere,holdingmewithonehand,
whileabsorbingmyblowswithbarelyagrimace.

"Ever, please, let me explain," he says, dodging my furiously kicking feet that are aiming right for

him.

As I stare at my friend who's bleeding profusely, grimacing in pain, a terrible realization sweeps

rightthroughme—thisiswhyhetriedtokeepmeaway!

"No!That'snotitatall.You'vegotitallwrong.Yes,Ididn'twantyoutoseethis,thoughit'snotwhat

youthink."

Heholdsmeuphigh,mylegsdanglinglikearagdoll,anddespiteallmypunchingandfighting,he

hasn'tevenbrokenasweat.ButIdon'tcareaboutDamen.Idon'tevencareaboutme.AllIcareaboutis
Haven,whoselipsareturningblue,asherbreathgrowsalarminglyweak.

"Whathaveyoudonetoher?"IglareathimwithallthehateIcanmuster."Whathaveyoudoneto

her,youfreak?"

"Ever,please,Ineedyoutolisten,"hepleads,hiseyesbeggingmine.
And despite all my anger, despite my adrenaline, I can stilt! feel that warm languid tingle of his

handsonmyskin,andIfightlikehelltoignoreit.Yellingandscreamingandkickingmyfeet,aimingfor
hismostvulnerableparts,butalwaysmissingsince.he'ssomuchquickerthanme.

"Youcan'thelpher,trustme,I'mtheonlyonewhocan."
"You'renothelpingher,you'rekillingher!"Ishout.
Heshakeshisheadandlooksatme,hisfaceappearingtiredwhenhewhispers,"Hardly."
Itrytopullawayagain,butit'snouse,Ican'tbeathim.SoIstop,allowingmyselftogolimpasI

closemyeyesinsurrender.Thinking:Sothisishowithappens.ThisishowIdisappear.Andthemoment
herelaxeshisgrip,IkickmyfootashardasIcan,myboothittingitstargetasheloosenshisgripandI
droptothefloor.

IspringtowardHaven,myfingersslippingtoherbloodcoveredwristasIsearchforapulse,my

eyesfixedonthetwosmallholesinthecenterofhercreepytattoo,asIbeghertokeepbreathing,tohang
on.AndjustasIreachformycell,intendingtocall911,Damencomesupbehindme,grabsthephoneout
ofmyhand,andsays,"IwashopingIwouldn'thavetodothis."

ChapterTwenty-Four

WhenIwake,I'mlyinginbedwithSabineloomingoverme,herfaceamaskofrelief,herthoughtsa

mazeofconcern.

"Hey,"shesays,smilingandshakingherhead."Youmust'vehadsomeweekend."
Isquintfirstatherandthenattheclock.ThenIspringoutofbedwhenIrealizethetime.
"Areyoufeelingokay?"sheasks,trailingbehindme."YouwerealreadyasleepwhenIgothomelast

night.You'renotsickareyou?"

Iheadfortheshower,notsurehowtoanswer.BecauseeventhoughIdon'tfeelsick,Ican'timagine

howIsleptsolongandsolate.

"AnythingIshouldknowabout?Anythingyouneedtotellme?"sheasks,standingoutsidethedoor.
Iclosemyeyesandrewindtheweekend,rememberingthebeach,Evangeline,Damenstayingover

andmakingmedinner,followedbybreakfast—"No,nothinghappened,"Ifinallysay.

"Well,youbetterhurryifyouwanttomakeittoschoolontime.Yousureyou'reallright?"
"Yes,"Isay,tryingtosoundclear-cut,unambiguous,sureassurecanbe,asIturnonthetapsandstep

intothespray,notsureifI'mlyingorifit'strue.

ThewholewaytoschoolMilestalksaboutEric.Givingmethelowdown,theentirestep-by-stepof

theirSundaynightmessagebreakup,tryingtoconvincemethathecouldn'tcareless,thatheiscompletely
andtotallyoverhim,whichprettymuchprovesthathe'snot.

"Areyouevenlisteningtome?"Hescowls.
"Ofcourse,"Imumble,stoppingatalight,justablockfromschool,mymindrunningthroughmyown

weekend events, and I always ending at breakfast. No matter how hard I try, I can't remember anything
afterthat.

"Could'vefooledme."Hesmirksandlooksoutthewindow:
"Imean,ifI'mboringyou,justsayso.Becausebelieveme,IamsooverEric.DidIevertellyou

aboutthattimewhenhe—"

"Miles,haveyoutalkedtoHaven?"Iask,glancingathimbrieflybeforethelightturnsgreen.
"Idon'tthinkso."Ipressdownonthegas,wonderingwhyjustsayinghernamefillsmewithdread.
"Youdon'tthinkso?"Hiseyesgowideasheshiftsinhisseat.
"NotsinceFriday"Ipullintotheparkinglot,myheartbeatingtripletimewhenIseeDameninhis

usualspot,leaningagainsthiscar,waitingforme.

"Well,atleastoneofushasashotathappilyeverafter,"Milessays,noddingatDamenwhocomes

aroundtomyside,asingleredtulipinhand.

"Goodmorning."Hesmileshandingmetheflowerandkissingmycheek,asImumbleanincoherent

replyandheadforthegate.ThebellringsasMilessprintstowardclassandDamentakesmyhandand
leadsmeintoEnglish.

"Mr. Robins is on his way," he whispers, squeezing my fingers as he leads me past Stacia, who

scowlsatmeandsticksoutherfoot,beforemovingitoutofmywayattheverylastsecond.

"He'soffthesauce,tryingtogethiswifeback."HislipscurveagainstmyearasIpickupthepace

and move away I slide onto my seat and unload my books, wondering why my boyfriend's presence is
makingmefeelsoedgyandweird,thenreachinsidemyiPodpocketandpanicwhenIrealizeIleftitat
home.

"You don't need that," Damen says, reaching for my hand and smoothing my fingers with his. "You

havemenow."

Iclosemyeyes,knowingMr.Robinswillbehereinjustthree,two,one
"Ever,"Damenwhispers,hisfingerstracingovertheveinsonmywrist."Youfeelingokay?"Ipress

mylipstogetherandnod.

"Good."Hepauses."Ihadagreatweekend,Ihopeyoudidtoo."
IopenmyeyesjustasMr.Robinswalksin,noticinghowhiseyesaren'taspuffy,hisfacenotasred,

thoughhishandsarestillalittleshaky

"Yesterday was fun, don't you think?" I turn to Damen, gazing into his eyes, my skin infused with

warmthandtinglemerelybecausehishandisonmine.ThenInodinagreement,knowingit'stheresponse
hewants,eventhoughI'mnotsurethatit'strue.

Thenextcoupleofhoursareablurofclassesandconfusion,andit'snotuntilIgettothelunchtable

thatIlearnthetruthaboutyesterday.

"Ican'tbelieveyouguyswentinthewater,"Milessays,stirringhisyoghurtandlookingatme."Do

youhaveanyideahowcolditis?"

"Sheworeawetsuit."Damenshrugs."Infact,youleftitatmyhouse."
Iunwrapmysandwich,notrememberinganyofit.Idon'tevenownawetsuit.DoI?"Um,wasn't

thatFriday?"Iask,blushingwhenalltheeventsofthatdaycomerushingbacktome.

Damenshakeshishead."Youdidn'tsurfonFriday,Idid.SundaywaswhenIgaveyoualesson."
Ipeelthecrustoffmysandwich,andtrytoremember,butitkeepscomingupblank.
"So,wassheanygood?"Milesasks,lickinghisspoonandgazingfromDamentome.
"Well,itwasprettyflatsotherewasn'tmuchtosurf.Mostlywejustlayonthebeach,undersome

blankets.Andyeah,she'sprettygoodatthat."Helaughs.

IgazeatDamenwonderingifmywetsuitwasonoroffunderthoseblankets,andwhat,ifanything

happenedunderthere.IsitpossiblethatItriedtomakeupforFriday,thenblockeditoutsoIcan'teven
rememberit?

Mileslooksatme,browsraised,butIjustshrugandtakeabiteofmysandwich.
"Whichbeach?"heasks.
ButsinceIcan'tremember,IturntoDamen."CrystalCove,"hesays,sippinghisdrink.
Miles shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Please tell me. I you're not turning into one of those

coupleswheretheguy,doesallthetalking.Imean,doesheorderforyouinrestaurantstoo?"

IlookatDamen,butbeforehecananswerMilesgoes,"No,I'maskingyou,Ever."
I think back to our two restaurant meals, one that wonderful day at Disneyland that ended so

strangely,andtheotherattheracetrackwhenwewonallthatmoney."Iordermyownmeals,"Isay.And
thenIlookathimandgo,"CanIborrowyourSidekick?"

Hepullsitfromhispocketandslidesittowardme."Why?Youforgetyourphone?"

"YeahandIwanttotextHavenandseewheresheis.Ihavetheweirdestfeelingabouther."Ishake

myhead,notknowinghowtoexplainittomyself,muchlesstothem."Ican'tstopthinkingabouther,"I
say,fingerstappingthetinykeyboard.

"She's at home, sick," Miles says. "Some kind of flu. Plus she's sad about Evangeline, though she

swearsshenolongerhatesus."

"Ithoughtyousaidyouhadn'ttalkedtoher."Ipauseandgazeupathim,surethat'swhathesaidinthe

car.

"Isentheratextinhistory."
"Soshe'sokay?"IstareatMiles,mystomachajumbleofnervesthoughIcan'tbegintograspwhy.
"Pukinghergutsout,mourningthelossofherfriend,butyeah,basicallyfine."
IreturntheSidekicktoMiles,figuringthere'snouseinbotheringherifshe'snotfeelingwell.Then

Damen puts his hand on my leg, Miles goes on about Eric, and I pick at my lunch, going through the
motionsofnoddingandsmiling,butunabletoshaketheunease.

Wouldn'tyouknowit,theonedayDamendecidestospendthewholedayatschooljusthappensto

be the day I wish he would've ditched. Because every time I get out of class, I find him standing right
outside the door, anxiously waiting, and asking if I'm feeling okay. And it's really starting to get on my
nerves.

Soafterart,whenwe'rewalkingtotheparkinglotandheofferstofollowmehome,Ijustlookat

himandsay,"Um,ifit'sokaywithyou,Ineedtobebymyselfforawhile."

"Iseverythingokay?"heasksforthemillionthtime.
ButIjustnodandclimbinside,anxioustoclosethedoorandputsomedistancebetweenus."Ijust

needtocatchuponafewthings,butI'llseeyoutomorrow,okay?"Andnotgivinghimachancetoreply,I
backoutofmyspaceanddriveaway.

When I get home, I'm so incredibly tired I head straight for my bed, planning to take a short nap

beforeSabinecomeshomeandstartsworryingaboutmeagain.ButwhenIwakeupinthemiddleofthe
night, with my heart pounding and my clothes soaked with sweat, I have this undeniable feeling I'm not
aloneinmyroom.

Ireachformypillow,graspingittightlyasthoughthosesoftdownyfeatherswillserveassomesort

of shield, then I peer into the dark space before me, and whisper, "Riley?" Even though I'm pretty sure
it's'nother.

Iholdmybreath,hearingasoftmummersound,likeslippersoncarpet,overbytheFrenchdoors,

andIsurprisemyselfbywhispering,"Damen?"asIpeerintothedark,unabletomakeoutanythingother
thanasoftswishingsound.

Ifumbleforthelightswitch,squintingagainstthesuddenbrightness,andsearchingfortheintruder,

so sure I had company, so positive I wasn't alone, that I'm almost disappointed when I find my room
empty.

Iclimboutofbed,stillclutchingmypillow,asIlocktheFrenchdoors.ThenIpeekintomycloset

andundermybed,likemydadusedtodothoselongagonightshereportedforboogeymanduty.Butnot
findinganything,Icrawlbackinbed,wonderingifitwaspossiblymydreamthatsparkedallthesefears.

It was similar to the one I had before, where I was running through a dark windswept canyon, my

filmywhitedressapoordefenseagainstthecold,invitingthewindtolashatmyskin,chillingmestraight
throughtomybones.AndyetIbarelynoticed,Iwassofocusedonrunning,mybarefeetcarvingintothe
damp,muddyearth,headingtowardahazyrefugeIcouldn'tquitesee.

AllIknowisthatIwasrunningtowardasoftglowinglight.AndawayfromDamen.

ChapterTwenty-Five

The next day at school, I park in my usual space, jump out of my car, and run right past Damen,

headingforHavenwho'swaitingbythegate.AndeventhoughInormallydoeverythingpossibletoavoid
physicalcontact,Igrabontohershouldersandhugherrighttome.

"Okay,okay,Iloveyoutoo."Shelaughs,shakingherheadandpushingmeaway."Imean,jeez,it's

notlikeIwasgoingtostaymadatyouguysforever."

Herdyedredhairisdryandlimp,herblacknailpolishischipped,thehollowsunderhereyesseem

darkerthanusual,andherfaceisdecidedlypale.Buteventhoughsheassuresmeshe'sokay,Ican'thelp
butreachoutandhugheragain.

"How're you feeling?" I ask, eyeing her carefully, trying to get a read, but other than her aura

appearinggray,weak,andtranslucent,Ican'tseemuchofanything.

"Whatisgoingonwithyou?"shesays,shakingherheadandpushingmeaway."What'swithallthe

loveandaffection?Imean,youofallpeople,youoftheeternaliPodhoodiecombo."

"Iheardyouweresick,andthenwhenyouweren'tatschoolyesterday—"Istop,feelingridiculous

tobehoveringlikethis.

Butshejustlaughs."Iknowwhat'sgoingonhere."Shenods."Thisisyourfault,isn'tit?"Shepoints

atDamen.

"Youjusthadtocomealongandthawoutmyicycoldfriend,turningherintoasentimental,warm,

fuzzysap."

AndeventhoughDamenlaughs,itdoesn'tquitereachhiseyes.
"Itwasjusttheflu,"shesaysasMilesloopshisarmthroughhersandweheadpastthegate."AndI

guessbeingalldepressedaboutEvangelinemadeitthatmuchworse.Imean,Iwassofeverish,Iactually
blackedoutafewtimes."

"Seriously?"IbreakawayfromDamensoIcanwalkalongsideher.
"Yeah,itwastheweirdestthing.EverynightIwouldgotobedwearingonething,andwhenIwoke

up I'd be wearing something entirely different. And when I'd go looking for what I had on before, I
couldn'tfindit.Itwaslikeit'dvanishedorsomething."

"Well,yourroomisprettymessy."Mileslaughs."Ormaybeyouwerehallucinating,youknowthat

canhappenwhenyouhaveamonsterfever."

"Maybe." She shrugs. "But all my black scarves were gone, so I had to borrow this one from my

brother."Sheliftstheendofherbluewoolscarfandwavesitaround.

"Wasanyonetheretotakecareofyou?"Damenasks,comingupbesidemeandtakingmyhand,his

fingersintertwiningwithmine,sendingafloodofwarmththroughmysystem.

Havenshakesherheadandrollshereyes."Areyoukidding?
I may as well be emancipated like you. Besides, I had my door locked the whole time. I could've

diedinthereandnobodywould'veknown."

"WhataboutDrina?"Iask,mystomachclenchingatthementionofhername.
Haven gives me a strange look and says, "Drina's in New York. She left Friday night. Anyway, I

hopeyouguysdon'tgetit,becauseeventhoughsomeofthedream-statestuffwasprettycool,Iknowyou
guyswouldn'tbeintoit."Shestopsnearherclassandleansagainstthewall.

"Didyoudreamaboutacanyon?"Iask,droppingDamen'shand,andmovingsocloseI'mrightupin

herfaceagain.

But Haven just laughs and pushes me away. "Um, excuse me, boundaries!" She shakes her head.

"Andno,therewerenocanyons.JustsomewildGothstuff,hardtoexplain,thoughplentyofbloodand
gore."

Andthesecondshesaysthat,thesecondIheartheword"blood,"everythinggoesblackasmybody

tiltstowardthefloor.

"Ever?"Damencries,catchingmejustsecondsbeforeIcrashtotheground."Ever,"hewhispers,his

voicetingedwithworry.

AndwhenIopenmyeyestomeethis,somethingabouthisexpression,somethingabouttheintensity

ofhisgazeseemssofamiliar.Butjustasthememorybeginstoform,it'serasedbythesoundofHaven's
voice.

"That's exactly how it starts." She nods. "I mean, I didn't pass out until later, but still, it definitely

startedwithamajordizzyspell."

"Maybeshe'spregnant?"Milessays,loudenoughforseveralpassingstudentstohear.
"Not likely," I say, surprised by how much better I feel, now that I'm wrapped in Damen's warm,

supportivearms."I'mokay,really."Istaggertomyfeetandmoveaway.

"Youshouldtakeherhome,"Milessays,lookingatDamen.
"Shelooksawful."
"Yeah."Havennods."Youshouldrest,seriously.Yousodon'twanttocatchit."
ButeventhoughIinsistongoingtoclass,nobodylistenstome.AndthenextthingIknow,Damen's

armiswrappedaroundmywaistandhe'sleadingmebacktohiscar.

"Thisisridiculous,"Isay,ashepullsoutoftheparkinglotandheadsawayfromschool."Seriously,

I'mfine.Nottomentionthatwe'retotallygonnagetbustedforditchingagain!"

"Noone'sgettingbusted."Heglancesatmebriefly,beforefocusingbackontheroad."MayIremind

youthatyoufaintedbackthere?You'reluckyIcaughtyouintime."

"Yes, but that's the thing, you did catch me in time. And now I'm fine. Seriously. I mean, if you're

reallysoworriedaboutme,thenyoushould'vetakenmetotheschoolnurse.Youdidn'thavetokidnap
me."

"I'mnotkidnappingyou,"hesays,clearlyannoyed."Ijustwanttolookafteryou,makesUreyou're

okay."

"Oh,sonowyou'readoctor?"Ishakemyheadandrollmyeyes.
Buthedoesn'tsayanything.HejustcruisesupCoastHighway,passingrightbythestreetthatleads

tomyhouseuntileventuallystoppingbeforeabigimposinggate.

"Whereareyoutakingme?"Iask,watchingashenodsatafamiliarattendant,whosmilesandwaves

usrightthrough.

"Myhouse,"hemumbles,drivingupasteephillbeforemakingaseriesofturnsthatleadintoacul-

de-sacandabigemptygarageattheend.

ThenhetakesmyhandandleadsmethroughawellappointedkitchenandintothedenwhereIstand,

hands on hips, taking in all of his beautiful furnishings, the exact opposite of the frat-house chic I
expected.

"Isthisreallyallyours?"Iask,runningmyhandoveraplushchenillesofaasmyeyestourexquisite

lamps,Persianrugs,acollectionofabstractoilpaintings,andthedarkwoodcoffeetablecoveredinart
books, candles, and a framed photo of me. "When'd you take this?" I lift it off the table and study it
closely,havingabsolutelynomemoryofthemoment.

"Youactlikeyou'veneverbeenherebefore,"hesays,motioningformetosit.
"Ihaven't."Ishrug.
"Youhave,"heinsists."LastSunday?Afterthebeach?I'veevengotyourwetsuithangingupstairs.

Nowsit."Hepatsthesofacushion"Iwanttoseeyouresting."

Isinkdownintotheoverstuffedcushions,stillclutchingthephotoandwonderingwhenitwastaken.

My hair is long and loose, my face is slightly flushed, and I'm wearing a peach colored hoodie I'd
forgottenIhad.ButeventhoughIappeartobelaughing,myeyesaresadandserious.

"Itookthatonedayatschool.Whenyouweren'tlooking.Iprefercandidshots,it'stheonlywayto

reallycapturetheessenceofaperson,"hesays,removingitfrommygripandreturningittothetable.

"Now,closeyoureyesandrest,whileImakeyousometea."
Whentheteaisreadyheplacesthecupinmyhands,thenbusieshimselfwiththethickwoolthrow,

tuckingitinallaroundme.

"Thisisreallyniceandall,butit'snotnecessary,"Isay,placingthecuponthetableandglancingat

mywatch,thinkingifweleaverightnow,Icanstillmakeittosecondperiodintime.

"Seriously.I'mfine.Weshouldgetbacktoschool."
"Ever,you fainted," hesays, sitting downbeside me, his eyessearching my faceas he touches my

hair.

"Stuffhappens."Ishrug,embarrassedbyallthefussing,especiallywhenIknownothing'swrong.
"Notonmywatch,"hewhispers,movinghishandfrommyhairtothescaronmyface.
"Don't."Ipullawayjustbeforehecantouchit,watchingashishandfallsbacktohisside.
"What'swrong?"heasks,peeringatme.
"Idon'twantyoutocatchit,"Ilie,notwantingtoadmittothetruth—thatthescarisforme,andme

only.Aconstantreminder,ensuringI'llneverforget.That'swhyIrefusedtheplasticsurgeon,refusedto
lethim"fix"it.Knowingwhathappenedcouldneverbefixed.It'smyfault,myprivatepain,whichiswhy
Ihideitundermybangs.

Buthejustlaughswhenhesays,"Idon'tgetsick."
Iclosemyeyesandshakemyhead,andwhenIopenthemIsay,"Ohsonowyoudon'tgetsick?"
Heshrugsandbringsthecuptomylips,urgingmetodrink.
Itakeasmallsipthenturnmyheadandpushitaway,saying,"Solet'ssee,youdon'tgetsick,you

don't get in trouble for truancy, you get straight Xs despite said truancy, you pick up a paint brush and
voila, you make a Picasso better than Picasso. You can cook a meal as good as any five-star chef, you
usedtomodelinNewYork—whichwasrightbeforeyoulivedinSantaFe,whichcameafteryoulivedin
London,Romania,Paris,andEgyptyou'reunemployedandemancipated,yetyousomehowmanagetolive
inaluxuriouslydecoratedmultimillion-dollardreamhome,youdriveanexpensivecar,and—"

"Rome,"hesays,givingmeaseriouslook.
"What?"
"YousaidIlivedinRomania,whenitwasactuallyRome."

Irollmyeyes."Whatever,thepointis—"Istop,mywordscaughtinmythroat.
"Yes?"Heleanstowardme."Thepointis..."
Iswallowhardandavertmygaze,mymindgraspingtheedgesofsomething,something
that's been gnawing at me for some time. Something about Damen, something about that almost,

otherworldly,qualityofhis—isheaghostlikeRiley?No,that'simpossible,everyonecanseehim.

"Ever,"hesays,hispalmonmycheek,turningmyheadsoI'mfacinghimagain."Ever,I—"
Butbeforehecanfinish,I'moffthecouchandoutofhisreach,tossingthethrowfrommyshoulders

andrefusingtolookathimwhenIsay,"Takemehome."

ChapterTwenty-Six

The second Damen pulls into my drive, I jump out of the car and hit the ground running, racing

throughthefrontdoorandtakingthestairstwoatatime,hopingandprayingthatRileywillbethere.I
needtoseeher,needtotalktoheraboutallthecrazythoughtsthatarebuildinginsideme.She'stheonly
oneIcanevenbegintoexplainitto,theonlyonewhojustmightunderstand.

Icheckmyden,mybathroom,mybalcony,Istandinmyroomandcallouthername,feelingstrange,

hectic,shaky,panickedinawaythatIcan'tquiteexplain.

Butwhenshefailstoappear,Icrumbleontomybed,curlmybodyintoasmalltightball,andrelive

herlossalloveragain.

"Ever,honey,areyouokay?"Sabinedropsherbagsandkneelsdownbesideme,herpalmcooland

sureagainstmyhotclammyskin.

Iclosemyeyesandshakemyhead,knowingthatdespitethefaintingspell,despitemyrecentboutof

exhaustion,I'mnotsick.Atleastnotinthewaythatshemeans.It'smorecomplicatedthanthat,andnotso
easilycured.

Irollontomyside,usingtheedgeofmypillowcasetowipeatmytears,thenIturntoherandsay,

"Sometimes sometimes it just hits me, you know? And, it's not getting any easier," I choke, my eyes
floodingalloveragain.

Shegazesatme,herfacesoftenedbysorrowasshesays,
"I'm not sure that it will. I think you just get used to the feeling, the hollowness, the loss, and

somehowlearntolivearoundit."Shesmiles,removingmytearswithherhand.

Andwhensheliesdownbesideme,Idon'tpullaway.Ijustclosemyeyesandallowmyselftofeel

herpain,andmypain,untilit'sallmixedtogether,rawanddeepwithnobeginningorend.Andwestay
likethat,cryingandtalkingandsharinginthewayweshould'vedonelongago.IfonlyI'dletherin.If
onlyIhadn'tpushedher,away.

And when she finally gets up to make us some dinner, she pilfers through her tote bag and says,

"Look what I found in the trunk of my car. I borrowed it ages ago after you first moved here. I didn't
realizeIhaditallthistime."

Thenshetossesmethepeachhoodie.TheoneI'dforgottenallabout.TheoneIhaven'twornsince

thefirstweekofschool.TheoneIwaswearinginthepictureonDamen'scoffeetableeventhoughwe
hadn'tyetmet.

Thenextdayatschool,IdriverightpastDamen,andthatstupidspothealwayssavesforme,and

parkinwhatseemsliketheothersideoftheworld.

"Whatthehell?"Milessays,gapingincredulously."Youdroverightpastit!Andnowlookhowfar

wehavetowalk!"

Islam my doorand storm acrossthe lot, marching rightpast Damen who'sleaning against his car,

waitingforme.

"Um,hello!Talldarkandhandsomeatthreeo'clock,youwalkedrightbyhim!Whatisgoingonwith

you?"Milessays,grabbingmyarmandlookingatme."Areyouguysinafight?"

ButIjustshakemyheadandpullaway."Nothing'sgoingon,"Isay,stridingtowardthebuilding.
EventhoughthelasttimeIcheckedDamenwaswellbehindmewhenIwalkintoclassandheadfor

my seat, he's already there. So I raise my hood and switch on my iPod, making a point to ignore him,
whileIwaitforMr.Robinstocallroll.

"Ever,"Damenwhispers,asIstarestraightahead,focusingonMr.Robins'srecedinghairline,just

waitingformyturntosay"here."

"Ever,Iknowyou'reupset.ButIcanexplain."
Istarestraightahead,pretendingnottohear.
"Ever,please,"Damenbegs.
But I just act like he's not even there. And just when Mr. Robins gets to my name, Damen sighs,

closeshiseyes,andsays,"Fine.Justremember,youaskedforit."

AndthenextthingIknow;ahorriblethwonk!resonatesthroughouttheroom,asnineteenheadshitthe

topsoftheirdesks.

Everyone'sheadbutDamen'sandmine.
Igazeallaround,mouthgaping,eyestryingtocomprehend,andwhenIfinallyturnbacktoDamen,

staringaccusingly,hejustshrugsandsays,"ThisisexactlywhatI'dhopedtoavoid."

"What've you done?" I stare at all the limp bodies, a terrible understanding beginning to

emerge."Omigod, you killed them! You killed everyone!" I shout, my heart pounding so fast I'm sure he
canhearit.

Buthejustshakeshisheadandsays,"Comeon,Ever.Whatdoyoutakemefor?Ofcourse,Ididn't

killthem.They'rejusttakingalittle...siesta,that'sall."

Iscoottotheedgeofmyseat,myeyesfixedonthedoor,plottingmyescape.
"Youcantry,butyouwon'tgetveryfar.YouseehowIbeatyoutoclasseventhoughyouhadahead

start?"Hecrosseshislegsandgazesatme,hisfacecalm,voicesteadyascanbe.

"Youcanreadmymind?"Iwhisper,recallingsomeofmymoreembarrassingthoughts,mycheeks

growinghotasmyfingersgriptheedgeofmydesk.

"Usually."Heshrugs."Well,prettymuchalways,yes."
"Forhowlong?"Istareathim,partofmewantingtotakemychanceonescape,whiletheotherpart

wantstogetafewquestionsansweredbeforemymostcertaindemise.

"Since the first day I saw you," he whispers, his gaze locked on mine, sending a flood of warmth

throughmybody.

"And when was that?" I ask, voice trembling, remembering the photo on his table, and wondering

justhowlonghe'sbeenstalkingme.

"I'mnotstalkingyou."Helaughs."Atleastnotinthewaythatyouthink."
"WhyshouldIbelieveyou?"Iglare,knowingbetterthantotrusthim,nomatterhowtrivial.
"BecauseI'veneverliedtoyou."
"You'relyingnow!"
''I'veneverliedtoyouaboutanythingimportant,"hesays,avertinghisgaze.
"Oh really? What about the fact that you took a photo of me long before you were even enrolled

here?Wheredoesthatfallonyourlistofimportantthingstoshareinarelationship?"Iglare.

Hesighs,hiseyesappearingtiredwhenhesays,"Andwheredoesbeingaclairvoyantwhohangsout

withherdeadlittlesisterfalluponyours?"

"You don't know anything about me." I stand, hands sweaty and shaky, heart slam-dancing in my

chest,asIstareatalloftheslumped-overbodies,Staciawithhermouthhangingopen,Craigsnoringso
loudhe'svibrating,Mr.RobinslookingmorehappyandpeacefulthanI'veeverseenhim.

"Isitthewholeschool?Orjustthisroom?"
"I can't be sure, but I'm guessing it's the whole school." He nods, smiling as he glances around,

clearlypleasedwithhishandiwork.

Andwithoutanotherword,Ispringfrommyseat,raceoutthedoor,sprintdownthehall,acrossthe

quad,andthroughtheoffice.Fleeingpastalltheslumped-oversecretariesandadministratorssleepingat
theirdesks,beforeburstingthroughthedoorandintotheparkinglot,runningtowardmylittleredMiata,
whereDamenisalreadywaiting,mybagdanglingfromtheverytipsofhisfingers.

"Itoldyou."Heshrugs,returningmybackpack.
I stand before him, sweaty, frantic, completely freaked out. All of those long-forgotten moments

flashingbeforeme—hisblood-coveredface,Haventhrashingandmoaning,thatweirdcreepyroom—and
Iknowhedidsomethingtomymind,somethingtokeepmefromremembering.AndeventhoughI'mno
matchforsomeonelikehim,Irefusetogodownwithoutafight.

"Ever!"hecries,reachingtowardme,thenlettinghishandfalltohisside."YouthinkIdidallofthis

sothatIcankillyou?"Hiseyesarefullofanguish,franticallysearchingmyface.

"Isn'tthattheplan?"Iglare."Haventhinksit'sallsomewild,goth,feverdream.I'mtheonlyonewho

knowsthetruth.I'mtheonlyonewhoknowsjusthowbigofamonsteryoureallyare.TheonlythingI
don'tgetiswhyyoudidn'tjustkillusbothwhileyouhadthechance?Whybothersuppressingthememory
andkeepingmealive?"

"Iwouldneverhurtyou,"hesays,hiseyespinchedwithpain."You'vegotitallwrong,Iwastrying

tosaveHaven,notharmher.Youjustwouldn'tlisten."

"Thenwhydidshelooklikeshewasonthebrinkofdeath?"Ipressmylipstogethertostopthem

fromquivering,myeyesfixedonhisbutrefusingtheirheat.

"Becauseshewasonthebrinkofdeath,"hesays,soundingannoyed."Thattattooonherwristwas

infectedintheworstway—itwaskillingher.WhenyouwalkedinonusIwassuckingtheinfectionright
outofher,likeyoudowithasnakebite."

Ishakemyhead."IknowwhatIsaw."
He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and taking a long deep breath

beforehelooksatmeandsays,"Iknowhowitlooks.AndIknowyoudon'tbelieveme.ButI'vebeen
tryingtoexplainandyoujustwouldn'tletme,soIdidallofthistogetyourattention.Because,Ever,trust
me,you'vegotitallwrong."

Helooksatme,hiseyesdarkandintense,hishandsrelaxedandopen,butI'mnotbuyingit.Nota

single word. He's had hundreds, maybe thousands of years to perfect such an act, resulting in a really
goodshow,butstillonlyashow.AndeventhoughIcan'tbelieveI'mabouttosayit,eventhoughIcan't
quitegetmymindwrappedaroundit,there'sonlyoneexplanation,nomatterhowcrazy.

"AllIknow isthatI wantyouto gobackto yourcoffin, oryourcoven, orwhereverit isthatyou

livedbeforeyoucamehereand—"Igaspforbreath,feelinglikermtrappedinsomehorriblenightmare,
wishingI'dwakeupsoon."Justleavemealone—justgoaway!"

Hecloseshiseyesandshakeshishead,stiflingalaughashesays."I'mnotavampire,Ever."
"Oh,yeah?Proveit!"Isay,myvoiceshaky,myeyesonhis,fullyconvincedI'mjustarosary,garlic

clove,andwoodenstakeshortofendingallthis.

Buthejustlaughs."Don'tberidiculous.There'snosuchthing."
"IknowwhatIsaw,"Itellhim,picturingtheblood,Haven,thatstrangeandcreepyroom,knowing

thatassoonasIseeit,he'llseeittoo.Wonderinghowhe'llpossiblytrytoexplainhisfriendshipwith
Marie Antoinette, Picasso, Van Gogh, Emily Bronte, and William Shakespeare—when they lived
centuriesapart.

He shakes his head, then looks at me and says, "Well, for that matter, I was also a good friend of

Leonardo da Vinci, Botticelli, Francis Bacon, Albert Einstein, and John, Paul, George, and Ringo." He
pauses, seeing the blank look on my face and groaning when he says, "Christ, Ever, the Beatles!" He
shakes his head and laughs. "God, you make me feel old." I just stand there, barely breathing, not
comprehending,butwhenhereachesforme,Istillhavethegoodsensetopullaway.'I'mnotavampire,
Ever.I'manimmortal."

Irollmyeyes."Vampire,immortal,samedifference,"Isay,shakingmyheadandfumingundermy

breath,thinkinghowridiculousitistoargueoveralabel.

"Ah,butithappenstobealabelwortharguingover,asthereisabigdifference.Yousee,avampire

is a fictional, made-up creature that exists only in books, and movies, and, in your case, overactive
imaginations."Hesmiles.

"Whereas I am an immortal. Which means I've roamed the earth for hundreds of years in one

continuouslifecycle.Though,contrarytothefantasyyou'veconjuredinyourhead,myimmortalityisnot
reliantonbloodsucking,humansacrifice,orwhateverunsavoryactsyou'veimagined."

Isquint,suddenlyrememberinghisstrangeredbrewandwonderingifthathassomethingtodowith

hislongevity.Likeit'ssomekindofimmortaljuiceorsomething.

"Immortaljuice."Helaughs."Goodone.Imaginethemarketingpossibilities."ButwhenheseesI'm

notlaughing,hisfacesoftenswhenhesays,"Ever,please,you'venoneedtofearme.I'mnotdangerous,
orevil,andIwouldneverdoanythingtohurtyou.I'msimplyaguywho'slivedaverylongtime.'Maybe
toolong,whoknows?Butthatdoesn'tmakemebad.Justimmortal.AndI'mafraid..."

He reaches for me, but I back away, my legs shaky, unstable, refusing to hear any more. "You're

lying!"Iwhisper,myheartfilledwithrage."Thisiscrazy!You'recrazy!"

He shakes his head and gazes at me, eyes filled with unfathomable regret. Then he takes a step

towardmeandsays,"Rememberthefirstmomentyousawme?Righthereintheparkinglot?Andhowthe
second your eyes met mine you felt an immediate rush of recognition? And the other day, when you
fainted?Howyouopenedyoureyesandlookedrightintomine,andyouweresoclosetoremembering,on
theveryvergeofrecollection,butthenyoulostthethread?"

I stare at him, immobile, transfixed, sensing exactly what he's about to say, but refusing to hear it.

"No!" I mumble, taking another step back, my head dizzy, my body off balance as my knees begin to
buckle.

"I'mtheonewhofoundyouthatdayinthewoods.I'mtheonewhobroughtyouback!"
Ishakemyhead,myeyesblurredwithtears.No!
"Theeyesyoulookedinto,onyour—return—weremine,Ever.Iwasthere.Iwasrighttherebeside

you.Ibroughtyouback.Isavedyou.Iknowyouremember.Icanseeitinyourthoughts."

"No!"Iscream,coveringmyearsandclosingmyeyes.
"Stopit!"Iyell,notwantingtohearanymore.
"Ever."Hisvoiceinvadesmythoughts,mysenses."I'msorrybutit'strue.Thoughyouhavenoreason

tofearme.'"

I crumble to the ground, face pressed against my knees, as I break into violent, gasping, shoulder-

shakingsobs."Youhadnorighttocomenearme,norighttointerfere!It'syourfaultI'mafreak!It'syour
faultI'mstuckwiththishorriblelife!Whydidn'tyoujustleavemealone,whydidn'tyoujustletmedie?"

"I couldn't stand to lose you again," he mumbles, kneeling down beside me. "Not this time. Not

again."

Iliftmygazetohis,havingnoideawhathemeans,buthopinghewon'ttrytoexplainit.I'veheard

aboutallIcantake,andIjustwantittostop.Ijustwantittoend.

Heshakeshishead,apainedexpressionmaskinghisface.
"Ever,pleasedon'tthinkthatway,pleasedon't—"
"So—soyoujustrandomlydecidetobringmebackwhilemywholefamilydies?"Isay,gazingupat

him,mysorrowconsumedbyacrushingrage."Why?Whywouldyoudosuchathing?Imean,ifwhatyou
say is true, if you're so powerful you can raise the dead, then why didn't you save them too? Why only
me?"

Hewincesatthehostilityinmygaze,tinyarrowsofhatedirectedathim.Thenhecloseshiseyes

when he says, "I'm not that powerful. And it was too late, they'd already moved on. But you—you
lingered.AndIthoughtthatmeantyouwantedtolive."

Ileanagainstmycar,closingmyeyes,gaspingforbreath,thinking:Soitreallyismyfault.BecauseI

procrastinated,lingered,wanderedthroughthatstupidfield,distractedbythose

pulsatingtreesandflowersthatshivered.Whiletheymovedon,crossedover,andIfellforhisbait...
Helooksatmebriefly,thenavertshisgaze.
And wouldn't you know it, the one time I'm so angry I could actually kill someone, my anger's

directedattheonepersonwhoclaimstobe,well,unkillable.

"Go away!" I finally say, ripping the crystal-encrusted horseshoe bracelet from my wrist and

throwingitathim.Wantingtoforgetaboutthat,abouthim,abouteverything.Havingseenandheardmore
thanIcantake."Just—goaway.Ineverwanttoseeyouagain."

"Ever,pleasedon'tsaythatifyoudon'treallymeanit,"hesays,hisvoicepleading,sorrowful,weak.
Iplacemyheadinmyhands,toowearytocry,tooshatteredtospeak.Andknowinghecanhearthe

thoughtsinmyhead,Ishutmyeyesandthink:Yousayyou'dneverharmme,butlookwhatyou'vedone!
You'veruinedeverything,wreckedmywholelife,andforwhat?SoIcouldbealone?SoIcouldlivethe
restofmylifeasafreak?Ihateyou—Ihateyouforwhatyou'vedonetome—Ihateyouforwhatyou've
mademe—Ihateyouforbeingsoselfish!AndInever,everwanttoseeyouagain!

Istaylikethat,headinmyhands,rockingbackandforthagainstthewheelofmycar,allowingthe

wordstoflowthroughme,overandoveragain.

Justletmebenormal,pleasejustletmebenormalagain.Justgoaway,leavemealone.BecauseI

hateyou—Ihateyou—Ihateyou—Ihateyou—

WhenIfinallylookup,I'msurroundedbytulips—hundredsofthousandsoftulips,allofthemred.

Thosesoftwaxypetalsglintinginthebrightmorningsun,fillinguptheparkinglotandcoveringallthe
cars.AndasIstruggletomyfeetandbrushmyselfoff,Iknowwithoutlooking:theirsenderisgone.

ChapterTwenty-Seven

It's weird in English, not having Damen beside me, holding my hand, whispering in my ear, and

actingasmyoffswitch.IguessI'dgrownsousedtohavinghimaroundI'dforgottenjusthowmeanStacia
andHonorcouldbe.Butwatchingthemsmirk,astheytexteachotherwithmessageslike—Stupidfreak,
nowonderheleft—IknowI'mbacktorelyingonmyhoodie,sunglasses,andiPodagain.

Thoughit'snotlikeIdon'tseetheirony.It'snotlikeIdon'tgetthejoke.Becauseforsomeonewho

sobbedinaparkinglot,beggingherimmortalboyfriendtodisappearsothatshecouldfeelnormalagain,
well,obviously,thepunchlineisme.

Becausenow,inmynewlifewithoutDamen,alloftherandomthoughts,theprofusionofcolorsand

sounds, are so overwhelming, so tremendously crushing, my ears constantly ring, my eyes continuously
water, and the migraines appear so quickly, invading my head, hijacking my body, and rendering me so
nauseousanddizzyIcanjustbarelyfunction.

ThoughitisfunnyhowIwassoworriedaboutmentioningourbreakuptoMilesandHaventhatafull

week passed by before his name was even mentioned. And even then, I'm the one who brought it up. I
guess they'd gotten so used to his erratic attendance they didn't see anything unusual about his latest
extendedabsence.

Sooneday,duringlunch,Iclearedmythroat,glancedbetweenthem,andsaid,"Justsoyouknow,

DamenandIbrokeup."Andwhentheirmouthsdroppedopenandtheybothstartedtospeak,Iheldupmy
handandsaid,"And,he'sgone."

"Gone?"theysaid,foureyesbugging,twojawsdropping,bothofthemreluctanttobelieveit.
AndeventhoughIknewtheywereconcerned,eventhoughIknewIowedthemagoodexplanation,I

justshookmyhead,pressedmylipstogether,andrefusedtosayanythingfurther.ThoughMs.Machado
wasn'tsoeasy.AfewdaysafterDamenleft,shewalkedrightuptomyeasel,didherbesttoavoiddirect
eyecontactwithmyVanGoghdisaster,andsaid,"IknowyouandDamenwereclose,andIknowhow
hardthismustbeforyou,soIthoughtyoushouldhavethis.Ithinkyou'llfinditextraordinary."

Shepushedacanvastowardme,butIjustleaneditagainstthelegofmyeaselandkeptpainting.I

hadnodoubtaboutitsbeingextraordinary;everythingDamendidwasextraordinary.Butthenagain,when
you'veroamedtheearthforhundredsofyears,you'veplentyoftimetomasterafewskills.

"Aren'tyougoingtolookatit?"sheasked,confusedbymylackofinterestinDamen'smasterpiece

replicaofamasterpiece.

ButIjustturnedtoher,forcingmyfaceintoasmilewhenIsaid,"No.Butthankyouforgivingitto

me."

Andwhenthebellfinallyrang,Idraggeditouttomycar,tosseditintomytrunk,andslammeddown

thehood,withoutonceevenlooking.

And when Miles asked, "Hey, what was that?" I just jammed the key in the ignition and said,

"Nothing."

But the one thing I didn't expect was how lonely I felt. I guess I failed to realize just how much I

relied on Damen and Riley to fill up the gaps, to seal all the cracks in my life. And even though Riley
warned me she wouldn't be around all that much, when it hit the three-week mark, I couldn't help but
panic.

BecausesayinggoodbyetoDamen,mygorgeous,creepy,quitepossiblyevil,immortalboyfriend,

washarderthanI'lleveradmit.ButnotgettingtosaygoodbyetoRileyismorethanIcanpossiblybear.

Saturday,whenMilesandHaveninvitemetotagalongontheirannualWinterFantasypilgrimage,I

accept.Knowingit'stimetogetoutofthehouse,outofmyslump,andrejointheliving.Andsinceit'smy
firsttimethere,they'reprettyexcitedaboutshowingmearound.

"It's not as good as the summer Sawdust Festival," Miles says, after we buy our tickets and head

throughthegates.

"That'sbecauseit'sbetter,"Havensays,skippingaheadandturningtosmileatus.
Miles smirks. "Well, other than the weather it doesn't really matter since they both have

glassblowers,andthat'salwaysmyfavoritepart."

"Bigsurprise."Havenlaughs,loopingherarmthroughMiles'sasIfollowalongsidethem,myhead

spinning from the crowd generated energy, all of the colors, sights, and sounds swirling around me,
wishingI'dhadthegoodsensetojuststayhomewhereit'squieter,safer.

I've just lifted my hood and am about to insert my earbuds when Haven turns to me and says,

"Really?You'reseriouslydoingthathere?"

AndIstop,andslipthembackintomypocket.BecauseeventhoughIwanttodrowneveryoneout,I

don'twantmyfriendstothinkI'mtryingtodrownthemouttoo.

"Comeon,you'vegottoseetheglassblower,he'samazing,"Milessays,leadinguspastanauthentic-

looking Santa and several silversmiths before stopping in front of some guy crafting beautiful,
multicoloredvasesusingonlyhismouth,alongmetaltube,andfire."Ihavegottolearnhowtodothat."
Hesighs,completelytransfixed.

Istandbesidehim,watchingtheswirlofliquidcolorsmoldandtakeshape,thenIheadovertothe

nextbooth,wheresomereallycoolpursesaredisplayed.

Ihoistasmallbrownbagoffitsshelfandstrokeitssoftbutteryleather,thinkingitmightmakeagood

ChristmasgiftforSabine,sinceit'ssomethingshe'dneverbuyforherself,butmightsecretlywant.

"How much for this one?" I ask, wincing as my voice reverberates through my head in a never-

endingpercussion.

"Onehundredandfifty."
I gaze at the woman, taking in her blue batik tunic, faded jeans, and silver peace-sign necklace,

knowingshe'spreparedtogolower,muchlower.Butmyeyesarestingingsobad,andthethrobbinginmy
head'ssosevereIdon'thavethestrengthtobarter.Infact,Ijustwanttogohome.

IputitbackwhereIfounditandstarttoturnaway,whenshesays,"Butforyou,onethirty."
AndeventhoughI'mwellawarethatshe'sstillatthetopofheroffer,thatthere'splentymoreroomto

bargain,Ijustnodandmoveaway.

Thensomeonebehindmesays,"NowyouandIbothknowherabsolutebottomlineisninety-five.So

why'dyougiveupsoeasily?"

AndwhenIturn,Iseeapetiteauburn-hairedwomansurroundedbythemostbrilliantpurpleaura.

'Ava."Shenods,extendingherhand.

"Iknow"Isay,makingapointtoignoreit.
"How'veyoubeen?"sheasks,smilingasthoughIdidn'tjustdosomethingincrediblycoldandrude,

whichmakesmefeelevenworseforhavingdoneit.

Ishrug,glancingovertotheglassblower,searchingforMilesandHaven,andfeelingthefirsthintof

panicwhenIdon'tseethem.

"YourfriendsarestandinginlineatLagunaTaco.Butdon'tworry,they'reorderingforyoutoo."
"Iknow,"Itellher,eventhoughIdidn't.Myheadhurtsfartoomuchtogetareadonanyone.
AndjustasIstarttomoveawayagain,shegrabsholdofmyarmandsays,"Ever,Iwantyoutoknow

myofferstillstands.I'dreallyliketohelpyou."Shesmiles.

Myfirstinstinctistopullaway,togetasfarfromheraspossible,butthemomentsheplacedher

handonmyarm,myheadstoppedpounding,myearsstoppedringing,andmyeyesstoppedmanufacturing
tears. But when I look in her eyes, I remember who she really is the horrible woman who's stolen my
sister.

AndInarrowmygazeandyankmyarmfree,glaringatherasIsay,"Don'tyouthinkyou'vehelped

enoughalready?"Ipressmylipstogetherandglare."You'vealreadystolenRiley,sowhatmorecouldyou
possiblewant?"Iswallowhardandtrynottocry.

Shelooksatme,browsmergingwithconcern,herauraabeautifulvibrantbeaconofviolet."Riley

wasneveranyone'stotake.Andshe'llalwaysbewithyou,evenifyoucan'tactuallyseeher,"shesays,
reachingformyarm.

ButIrefusetolisten.AndIrefusetolethertouchmeagain,nomatterhowcalming."Just—juststay

outofmylife,"Isay,movingaway.'Justleavemealone.RileyandIwerefineuntilyoucamealong."

But she doesn't leave. She doesn't go anywhere. She just stays right there, gazing at me in that

horribly annoying, soft, caring way. "I know about the headaches," she whispers, her voice light and
soothing."Youdon'thavetolivelikethis,Ever.Really,Icanhelp."

AndeventhoughI'dloveabreakfromtheonslaughtofnoiseandpain,Iturnonmyheelandstorm

away,hopingIneverseeheragain.

"Whowasthat?"Havenasks,plungingatortillachipintoatinycupofsalsaasIsitdownbesideher

andshrug.

"Noone,"Iwhisper,cringingasmywordsvibrateinmyears."Lookslikethatpsychicladyfromthe

party."

IreachfortheplateMilesslidestowardmeandpickupaplasticfork.
"Wedidn'tknowwhatyouwantedsowegotalittleofeverything,"hesays."Didyoubuyapurse?"
Ishakemyhead,thenimmediatelyregretitsinceitonlyintensifiesthepounding."Tooexpensive,"I

say,coveringmymouthasIchew;thecrunchreverberatingsobadlymyeyesfillwithtears."Yougeta
vase?"ButIalreadyknowthathedidn't,andnotjustbecauseI'mpsychic,butbecausethere'snobag.

"No,Ijustliketowatch'emblow."Helaughs,takingasipofhisdrink.
"Heyyouguys,shh!Isthatmyphone?"Havendigsthroughheroversized,overstuffedbagthatoften

standsinforhercloset.

"Well, since you're the only one at this table with a Marilyn Manson ring tone..." Miles shrugs,

ignoringhistacoshellandeatingonlytheinsides.

"Offthecarbs?"Iask,watchingashepicksathisfood.
Henods.'JustbecauseTracyTurnblad'sfatdoesn'tmeanIhavetobe."
I take a sip of my Sprite and gaze at Haven. And when I see the elated expression on her face, I

know.

Sheturnsawayfromus,coversherotherear,andsays,
"Omigod!Itotallythoughtyou'dvanished—I'moutwithMiles—yeah,Ever'sheretoo—yeah,they're

right here—okay." She covers the mouthpiece and turns toward us, her eyes lighting up when she says,
"Drinasayshi!"Thenshewaitsforustosayhiback.Butwhenwedon't,sherollshereyes,getsup,and
walksaway,saying,"Theysayhitoo."

Milesshakeshisheadandlooksatme."Ididn'tsayhi.Didyousayhi?"
Ishrugandmixmybeansintomyrice.
"Trouble,"hesays,gazingafterherandshakinghishead.
AndeventhoughIsensethatit'strue,I'mwonderingwhatexactlyhemeans.Becausetheenergyin

this place is bubbling and swirling like a big cosmic soup, too lumpy to slog through or try to tune in.
"Whatdoyoumean?"Iask,squintingagainsttheglare.

"Isn'titobvious?"
Ishrug,myheadpoundingsobadlyIcan'tgetinsidehis.
"There'ssomethingjustso—creepyabouttheirfriendship.Imean,aharmlessgirlcrushisonething.

Butthis—thisjustdoesn'tmakeanysense.Majorcreepfactor."

"Creepyhow?"Itearapieceoffmytacoshellandlookathim.
Heignoreshisriceandfavorsthebeans."Iknowthisisgoingtosoundhorrible,andtrustme,Idon't

meanittobe,butit'salmostlikeshe'sturningHavenintoanacolyte."

Iraisemybrows.
"Afollower,aworshipper,aclone,aMini-Me."Heshrugs.
"And,it'sjustso—"
"Creepy,"Iprovide.
HesipshisdrinkandglancesbetweenHavenandme."Lookathowshe'sstarteddressinglikeher,

thecontacts,thehaircolor,themakeup,theclothing,sheactslikehertoo—oratleastshetriesto."

"Isitjustthat,oristheresomethingelse?"Iask,wonderingifheknowsanythingspecific,orifit's

justageneralsenseofdoom.

"Youneedmore?"Hegapes.
Ishrug,droppingmytacoontomyplate,nolongerhungry.
"But between you and me, that whole tattoo thing takes it to a whole new level. I mean, what the

hell?"hewhispers,glancingatHaven,makingsureshecan'thear."What'sitevensupposedtomean?"He
shakeshishead."Imean,okay,Iknowwhatitmeans,butwhatdoesitmeantothem?Isitthelatestin
vampirechic?BecauseDrina'snotexactlygoth.I'mnotsurewhatshe'stryingtobewithherfittedsilk
ladydressesandpursesthatmatchhershoes.Isitacult?Somekindofsecretsociety?Anddon'tgetme
startedonthatinfection.Nasty.And,bytheway,sonotnormallikeshethinks.It'sprobablywhatmade
hersosick."

Ipressmylipsandstareathim,notsurehowtorespond,howmuchtoshare.Andyet,wondering

whyI'm(sodeterminedtokeepDamen'ssecrets—secretsthatbringcreepytoawholenewlevel.Secrets
that,whenIthinkaboutit,havenothingtodowithme.ButIhesitatefortoolong,andMilescontinues,
ensuringthevaultstayslocked,atleastfortoday.

"Thewholethingisjustso—unhealthy."Hecringes.
"What's unhealthy?" Haven asks, plopping down beside me and tossing her phone back into her

purse.

"Notwashingyourhandsafteryougotothebathroom,"Milesquips.
"And that's what you guys were talking about?" She eyes us suspiciously. "Like I'm supposed to

believethat?"

"I'm telling you, Ever refuses to suds up, 'and I was just trying to warn her of the dangers she's

exposingherselfto.Exposingallofusto."Heshakeshisheadandlooksatme.

Irollmyeyes,myfaceturningcrimsoneventhoughtit'snottrue.WatchingasHavendigsthroughher

bag,pushingpaststraytubesoflipstick,acordlesscurlingiron,straybreathmints—theirwrapperslong
gone—beforecomingacrossasmallsilverflask,unscrewingthetop,anddumpingafairamountofclear,
odorlessliquidintoeachofourdrinks.

"Well,that'sallveryamusing,butit'sobviousyouweretalkingaboutme.Butyouknowwhat?I'mso

freakinghappyIdon'tevencare."Shesmiles.

Ireachforherhand,determinedtostopherfrompouring.EversincethenightIpukedmygutsoutat

cheerleadingcamp,afterdrinkingmorethanmyshareofthecontrabandbottleRachelsmuggledintoour
cabin,I'veswornoffthevodka.ButthemomentItouchherI'movercomewithdread,seeingacalendar
flashbeforemewithDecember21circledinred.

"Jeez,relax,already.Stopbeingsoclenched.Livealittle,willya?"Sheshakesherheadandrolls

hereyes.'Aren'tyougoingtoaskmewhyI'msohappy?"

"No,becauseIknowyou'lltellusanyway,"Milessays,discardinghisplate,havingeatenallofthe

proteinandsavingtherestforthepigeons.

"You'reright,Miles,you'reabsolutelyright.Thoughit'salwaysnicetobeasked.Anyway,thatwas

Drina.She'sstillinNewYork,enjoyingamajorshoppingspree.Sheevenboughtabunchofstuffforme,
ifyoucanbelieveit."Shelooksatus,hereyeswide,butwhenwedon'trespond,shemakesafaceand
continues.'Anyway,shesaidhieventhoughyoucouldn'tbebotheredtosayhiback.Anddon'tthinkshe
didn't know it," she says, scowling at us. "But, she's heading back soon, and she just invited me to this
reallycoolpartyandItotallycannotwait!"

"When?" I ask, trying not to sound as panicked as I feel. Wondering if it could possibly be on the

twenty-firstofDecember.

Butshejustsmilesandshakesherhead."Sorry,nosay.Ipromisednottotell."
"Why?"MilesandIbothsay.
"Becauseit'ssuperexclusive,invitationonly,andtheydon'tneedabunchofcrashersshowingup."
"Andthat'showyouseeus?Aspartycrashers?"
Havenshrugsandtakesaheartysipofherdrink.
"Nowthat'sjustwrong."Milesshakeshishead."We'reyourbestfriends,sobylaw,youhavetotell

us."

"Notthis,"Havensays."I'msworntosecrecy.JustknowthatI'msoexcitedIcouldburst!"
Igazeather,sittingbeforeme,faceflushedwithahappinessthatsetsmeonedge,butmyheadhurts

sobadly,andmyeyesarereallytearing,andheraura'ssomerged/witheveryoneelse's,Ican'tgetaread.

Itakeasipofmydrink,forgettingaboutthevodkauntilatrailofhotliquidslipsdownmythroat,

coursesintomybloodstream,andmakesmyheadsway.

"Youstillsick?"Havenasks,shootingmeaworriedlook.
"Youshouldtakeiteasy.Maybeyou'renotcompletelyoverit."
"Overwhat?"Isquint,takinganothersip,andthenanother,mysensesbluntedalittlemorewitheach

taste.

"The fever-dream flu! Remember how you fainted that day at school? I told you the whole dizzy

nausea thing is just the beginning. Just promise to tell me if you have the dreams, because they're
amazing."

"Whatdreams?"
"Didn'tItellyou?"

"Notindetail."Itakeanothersip,notinghowmyheadfeelswoozyyetclear,allthevisions,random

thoughts,colors,andsoundssuddenlyshrinkingandfadingaway.

"Theywerewild!Anddon'tgetmad,butDamenwasinsomeofthem,thoughit'snotlikeanything

happened.Itwasn'tthatkindofdream.Itwasmorelikehewassavingme,likehewasfightingtheseevil
forcestosavemylife.Sobizarre."Shelaughs."Oh,speakingof,DrinasawDameninNewYork."

IstareatHaven,mybodygrowingcold,despitethealcoholblanketingmyinsides.ButwhenItake

anothersip,thechillslipsaway,takingmypainandanxietywithit.

SoItakeanother.
Andthenanother.
ThenIsquintatherandsay,"Whydidyoujusttellmethat?"
ButHavenjustshrugs."Drinajustwantedyoutoknow."

ChapterTwenty-Eight

Afterthefestival,wepileintoHaven'scar,makeaquickstopatherhousetorefillherflask,then

headintotownwhereweparkonthestreet,stuffthemeterfullofquarters,andstormthesidewalks,three
across,armslinked,makingalltheotherpedestriansmoveoutofourway,aswesing"(YouNever)Call
Me When You're Sober," at the top of our lungs and wildly off-key. Staggering in fits of laughter every
timesomeonesnickersandshakestheirheadatus.

And when we pass one of those New Age bookstores advertising psychic readings, I just roll my

eyesandavertmygaze,thrilledthatI'mnolongerpartofthatworld,nowthatthealcohol'sreleasedme,
nowthatI'mfree.

WecrossthestreettoMainBeach,andstumblepastHotelLaguna,untilwefallontothesand,legs

overlapping,armsentwined,passingtheflaskbackandforth,andmourningitslossthemomentit'sempty

"Crap!" I mumble tilting my head all the way back and tapping hard on the bottom and sides,

strainingforeverylastdrop.

"Jeez,takeiteasy."Mileslooksatme.'Justsitbackandenjoythebuzz."
ButIdon'twanttositback.AndIamenjoyingthebuzz.Ijustwanttomakesureitcontinues.Now

thatmypsychicbondshavebeenbroken,Iwanttoensuretheystaybroken."Wannagotomyhouse?"I
slur,hopingSabine'snotathomesowecangettotheleftoverHalloweenvodkaandkeepthebuzzrolling.

ButHavenshakesherhead."Forgetit,"shesays."I'mwrecked.I'mthinkingofditchingthecarand

crawlingbackhome."

"Miles?"Igazeathim,myeyespleading,notwantingthepartytoend.ThisisthefirsttimeI'vefelt

solight,sofree,sounencumbered,sonormal,since—well,sinceDamenwentaway.

"Can't." He shakes his head. "Family dinner. Seven-thirty sharp. Tie optional. Straightjacket

required."Helaughs,fallingontothesand,asHaventopplesoverandjoinshim.

"Well, what about me? What am I supposed to do?" I cross my arms and glare at my friends, not

wantingtobeleftonmyown,watchingastheylaughandrollaroundtogether,oblivioustome.

Thenextmorning,eventhoughIoversleep,thefirstthingIthinkwhenIopenmyeyesis:Myhead's

notpounding!Atleastnotintheusualway.

ThenIrollover,reachundermybed,andretrievethebottleofvodkaIstashedtherelastnight,taking

a long deep swig and I closing my eyes as its warm wonderful numbness blankets my tongue and sinks
downmythroat.

And when Sabine peeks her head in my room to see if I'm up, I'm thrilled to. see her aura has

vanishedfromsight.

"I'm awake!" I say, shoving the bottle under a pillow and rushing over to hug her. Anxious to see

whatkindofenergyexchangetherewillbe,andelatedwhenthereisnone.

"Isn'titabeautifulday?"Ismile,mylipsfeelingclumsyandlooseastheyunveilmyteeth.
Shegazesoutthewindowandbackatme."Ifyousayso."Sheshrugs.
Ilookpastmyfrenchdoorsandintoadaythat'sgray,overcast,andrainy.Butthenagain,Iwasn't

referringtotheweather.Iwasreferringtome.Thenewme.Thenew,improved,nonpsychicme!

"Remindsmeofhome."Ishrug,slippingoutofmynightgownandintotheshower.
ThesecondMilesgetsinmycarhetakesonelookatme,andgoes,"Whatthe—?"Igazedownatmy

sweater,denimmini,andballetflats,relicsSabinesavedfrommyoIdlife,andsmile.

"I'msorry,butIdon'tacceptridesfromstrangers,"hesays,openingthedoorandpretendingtoclimb

backout.

"It'sme,really.Crossmyheartandhopeto—well,justtrustthatit'sme."Ilaugh."Andcloseyour

dooralready,Idon'tneedyoufallingoutandmakinguslate."

"I don't get it," he says, gaping at me. "I mean, when did this happen? How did this happen? Just

yesterday you were practically wearing a burka, and now it looks like you've raided Paris Hilton's
closet!"

Ilookathim.
"Onlyclassier,wayclassier."
Ismile,pushingdownonthegas,mywheelsslidingandliftingoffthesoggywetstreetandeasingup

onlywhenIrememberhowmyinternalcopradarisgoneandMilesstartsscreaming.

"Seriously,Ever,whatthehell?Omigod,areyoustilldrunk?"
"No!"Isay,alittletooquickly."I'mjust,youknow,comingoutofmyshell,that'sall.Icanbekindof

—shy,forthefirstseveral—months."Ilaugh."Buttrustme,thisistherealme."I,nod,hopinghebuysit.

"Doyourealizeyou'vepickedthewettest,mostmiserabledayoftheyeartocomeoutofyourshell?"
IshakemyheadandpullintotheparkinglotasIsay,"Youhavenoideahowbeautifulitis.Reminds

meofhome."

Iparkintheclosestavailablespace,thenweraceforthegate,backpacksheldoverourheadslike

makeshift umbrellas, as the soles of our shoes splash water onto our legs. And when I see Haven
shiveringundertheeaves,Ifeellikejumpingwith,gleewhenIseeshe'saura-free.

"Whatthe—?"shesays,eyesbuggingasshelooksmeupanddown.
"Youguysreallyneedtolearnhowtofinishasentence."Ilaugh.
"Seriously,whoareyou?"shesays,stillgawkingatme.
Mileslaughs,wrapshisarmsaroundbothofus,andleadsuspastthegate,saying,"Don'tmindMiss

Oregon,shehappenstothinkit'sabeautifulday."

WhenIwalkintoEnglish,I'mrelievedthatIcannolongerseeorhearanythingI'mnotmeantto.And

eventhoughStaciaandHonorarewhisperingbackandforth,scowlingatmyclothes,myshoes,myhair,
eventhemakeupIwearonmyface,Ijustshrugitoffandmindmyownbusiness.BecausewhileI'msure
they'renotsayinganythingremotelykind,thefactthatInolongerhaveaccesstotheactualwordsmakesa
wholeworldofdifference.AndwhenIcatchthembothlookingatmeagain,Ijustsmileandwaveuntil
they'resofreakedouttheyturnaway.

Butbythird-periodchemistry,thebuzzisnearlygone.Givingwaytoabarrageofsights,colors,and

soundsthatthreatentooverwhelmme.

AndwhenIraisemyhandandaskforthehallpass,I'mbarelyoutthedoorbeforeI'mtakenover

completely.

I stagger toward my locker, spinning the dial around and around, trying to remember the correct

numbersequence.Isit24-18-12-3?Or12-18-3-24?

Iglancearoundthehall,myheadpounding,myeyestearing,andthenIhitit—18-3-24-12.AndIdig

throughapileofbooksandpapers,knockingthemalltothegroundbutpayingnoattentionastheysplay
around my feet, just wanting to get to the water bottle I've hidden inside, longing for its sweet liquid
release.

Iunscrewthecapandtiltmyheadback,takingalongdeeppull,soonfollowedbyanother,andthen

another,andanother.Andhopingtomakeitthroughlunch,I'mtakingonelastswigwhenIhear:

"Holdit—smile—no?That'sokay,Istillgotit."
And I watch in horror as Stacia approaches, camera held high, an image of me, guzzling vodka,

clearlydisplayed.

"Whowould'vethoughtyou'dbesophotogenic?Butthenagain,it'ssorarewegetthechancetosee

youwithoutyourhood."Shesmiles,hereyesgrazingoverme,frommyfeettomybangs.

Istareather,andeventhoughmysensesarebluntedfromdrink,herintentionsareclear.
"WhowouldyoupreferIsendthistofirst?Yourmom?"Sheliftsherbrowsandcovershermouthin

mockhorror,asshesays,"Oh,sosorry,myapologies.WhatImeanttosaywasyouraunt?Orperhapsone
of your teachers? Or maybe all of your teachers? No? No, you're right, this should go straight to the
principal,onebird,onestone,aquickandeasykill,astheysay."

"It's a water bottle," I tell her, leaning down to pick up my books and shoving them back in my

locker,strivingfornonchalance,actingasthoughIdon'tevencare,knowingshecansniffoutfearbetter
than any police-trained bloodhound. "All you have is a photo of me, drinking from a water bottle. Big
effin'deal."

"Awaterbottle."Shelaughs."Yes,andsoitis.AndsoveryoriginalImightadd.I'msureyou'rethe

absoluteveryfirstpersontoeverthinkofpouringvodkaintoawaterbottle."Sherollshereyes."Please.
You are so going down, Ever. One quick sobriety test, and it's good bye Bay View, hello Academy for
LosersandAbusers."

Igazeatherstandingbeforeme,sosure,sosmug,socompletelyoverconfident,andIknowshehas

everyrighttobe,shecaughtmered-handed.Andeventhoughtheevidencemayappearcircumstantial,we
bothknowthatitisn't.Webothknowthatshe'sright.

"Whatdoyouwant?"Ifinallywhisper,figuringeverybodyhasaprice,Ijustneedtofindhers.I've

heardenoughthoughtsoverthepastyear,seenenoughvisions,toconfirmthisistrue.

"Well, for starters, I want you to quit bothering me," she says, folding her arms across her chest,

anchoringtheevidencesnuglyunderherarmpit.

"ButIdon'tbotheryou,"Isay,thewordsslightlyslurred.
"Youbotherme."
"Aucontraire."Shesmiles,lookingmeover,eyesscathing.
"Justhavingtolookatyoudayafterdayisabother.Ahugehorriblebother."
"You want me to transfer out of English?" I ask, still holding that stupid bottle, unsure what to do

with it. If I leave it in my locker, she'll nark and have it confiscated—and if I stow it in my backpack,
samething.

"Youknowyoustillowemeforthatdressyoudestroyedinyourspasticrampage."
Sothat'sit,blackmail.GoodthingIwonallthatmoneyatthetrack.
Idigthroughmybackpackandlocatemywallet,morethanwillingtoreimburseherifit'llputanend

toallthis."Howmuch?"Isay.

Shelooksmeover,tryingtocalculatemyimmediatenetworth."Well,likeIsaid,itwasdesigner—

andnotsoeasilyreplaced—so—"

"Ahundred?"IpickoffaBenFranklinandofferittoher.
Sherollshereyes."WhileItotallygethowyou'recompletelycluelessaboutfashionandallthings

worthhaving,youreallyneedtouptheoffer.Aimalittlehigher,atadbitsteeper,"shesays,eyeballing
mywad.

Butsinceblackmailershaveawayofreturningandconstantlyuppingtheante,Iknowit'sbetterjust

todealwithitnow,beforeitcangoanyfurther.SoIlookatherandsay,"Sincewebothknowyoubought
thatdressattheoutletmall,onyourwayhomefromPalmSprings"—Ismile,rememberingwhatIsawthat
day in the hall—"I'll reimburse you for the cost of the dress, which, if memory serves, was eighty-five
dollars.Inwhichcase,ahundredseemslikeaprettygenerousdeal,wouldn'tyousay?"

She looks me over, her face twisting into a grin, as she takes the bill and shoves it deep into her

pocket. Then she glances between the water bottle and me, and smiles when she says, "So, aren't you
goingtooffermeadrink?"

If someone had told me just yesterday that I'd be hanging in the bathroom, getting whacked with

StaciaMiller,Ineverwould'vebelievedit.Butsureenough,that'sexactlywhatIdid.Trailedherright
insidesowecouldhuddleinthecornerandsuckdownawaterbottlefullofvodka.

Nothinglikesharedaddictionsandhiddensecretstobringpeopletogether.
And when Haven walked in and found us like that, her eyes bugged out when she said, "What the

fug?"

And I fell over in fits of howling laughter, as Stacia squinted at her and slurred, "Welthome gosh

girthl."

"Am I missing something?" Haven asked, gazing between us, eyes narrowed, suspicious. "Is this

supposedtobefunny?"

And the way she looked, the way she stood there so authoritative, so derisive, so serious, so not

amused,madeuslaughevenmore.Thenassoonasthedoorslammedbehindher,wegotbacktodrinking.

ButgettingtankedinthebathroomwithStaciadoesnotensureaccesstotheVIPtable.Andknowing

betterthantoeventry,Iheadformyusualspot,myheadsopolluted,mybrainsofuzzy,ittakesamoment
beforeIrealizeI'mnotwelcomethereeither.

Iplopmyselfdown,squintatHavenandMiles,thenstartlaughingfornoapparentreason.Oratleast

notonethat'sapparenttothem.Butiftheycouldonlyseethelooksontheirfaces,Iknowthey'dlaughtoo.

"What'supwithher?"Milesasks,glancingupfromhisscript.Havenscowls."She'sbent,totallyand

completelybent.Icaughtherinthebathroom,gettingtwistedwith,ofallpeople,StaciaMiller."

Milesgapes,hisforeheadallscrunchedinawaythatmakesmestartlaughingalloveragain.And

whenIwon'tquietdown,heleanstowardme,pinchesmyarm,andsays,

"Shh!"Heglancesallaroundandthenbackatme.
"Seriously,Ever.Areyoucrazy?Jeez,eversinceDamenleftyou'vebeen—"
"EversinceDamenleft—what?"IpullawaysofastIlosemybalanceandnearlyfalloffthebench,

rightingmyselfjustintimetoseeHavenshakeherheadandsmirk."Comeon,Miles,spititoutalready."I
glareathim."Youtoo,Haven,spititout."Onlyitcomesoutmorelike,schthpititowt,anddon'tthinkthey
don'tnotice.

"Youwantustoschthpititowt?"MilesshakeshisheadasHavenrollshereyes."Well,I'msurewe'd

behappytoifweonlyknewwhatitmeant.Doyouknowwhatitmeans?"HelooksatHaven.

"SoundsGerman,"shesays,glaringatme.
Irollmyeyes,andgetuptoleave,onlyIdon'tcoordinateitsowell,andIendupbangingmyknee.

"Owww"Icry,slumpingbackontothebench,grippingmylegasmyeyessquinchinpain.

"Here, drink this," Miles urges, pushing his Vitamin Water toward me. "And hand over your keys,

becauseyouaresonotdrivingmehome."

Miles was right. I so did not drive him home. That's because he drove himself home. I got a ride

fromSabine.

Shegetsmesettledinthepassengerseat,thengoesaroundtoherside,andwhenshestartstheengine

andpullsoutofthelot,sheshakesherhead,clenchesherjaw;glancesatme,andsays,"Expelled?How
doyougofromhonorrolltoexpelled?Canyoupleaseexplainthattome?"

Iclosemyeyesandpressmyforeheadagainstthesidewindow;thesmooth,cleanglasscoolingmy

skin.

"Suspended,"Imumble.
"Remember?Youpleadeditdown.Andquiteimpressively,Imightadd.NowIknowwhyyouearn

thebigbucks."Ipeeratherfromthecornerofmyeyejustastheshockofmywordstransformherface
from concern to outrage, rearranging her features in a way I've never seen. And even though I know I
shouldfeelbad,ashamed,guilty,andworse—thefactis,it'snotlikeIaskedhertolitigate.It'snotlikeI
askedhertopleadextenuatingcircumstances.Claimingthatmydrinkingonschoolgroundswas:clearly
mitigatedbythegravityofmysituation,thehugetolloflosingmyentirefamily.

And even though she said it in good faith, even though she truly believes it to be true, that doesn't

meanthatitistrue.

Becausethetruthis,Iwishshehadn'tsaidanything.Iwishshe'djustletthemexpelme.
Themomenttheycaughtmeinfrontofmylocker,thebuzzfadedandtheday'seventscamerushing

right back like a preview for a movie I'd rather not see. Pausing on the frame where I forgot to make
Staciadeletethatphoto,andplayingitoverandoveragain.Thenlater,intheoffice,whenIlearnedthatit
was actually Honor's phone that was used, that Stacia had gone home sick with an unfortunate bout of
"foodpoisoning"(thoughnotbeforearrangingforHonortosharethephoto,alongwithher"concerns"to
PrincipalBuckley),well,Ihavetoadmit,thateventhoughIwasinbigtrouble,Imean,big,huge,youcan
besurethiswillgoonyourpermanentrecordkindoftrouble,therewasstillthissmallpartofmethat
admiredher.Thispartthatshookitstinyheadandthought:Bravo!Welldone!

BecausedespitethetroubleI'mfacing,notonlywiththeschool,butSabinetoo,Stacianotonlymade

goodonherpromisetodestroyme,butshemanagedtobagonehundreddollarsandtheafternoonofffor
hertroubles.Andthatisseriouslyadmirable.

Atleastinacalculating,sadistic,sinisterkindofway.
Andyet,thankstoStacia,Honor,andPrincipalBuckley'scoordinatedefforts,Idon'thavetogoto

schooltomorrow.Orthenextday.Orthedayafterthat.WhichmeansI'llgetthewholehousetomyself,
all day, every day, allowing me plenty of privacy to continue my drinking and build up my tolerance,
whileSabine'sbusyatwork.

BecausenowthatI'vefoundmypathtopeace,nobody'sgonnastandinmyway.
"Howlonghasthisbeengoingon?"Sabineasks,unsurehowtoapproachme,howtohandleme."Do

Ihavetohideallthealcohol?DoIneedtogroundyou?"Sheshakesherhead."Ever,I'mspeakingtoyou!
Whathappenedbackthere?Whatisgoingonwithyou?Wouldyoulikeformetoarrangeforyoutospeak
withsomeone?BecauseIknowthisgreatcounselorwhospecializesingrieftherapy..."

Icanfeelherlookingatme,canactuallyfeeltheconcernemanatingoffherface,butIjustclosemy

eyesandpretendtosleep.There'snowayIcanexplain,nowayIcanunloadthewholesordidtruthabout
aurasandvisionsandspiritsandimmortalex-boyfriends.Becauseeventhoughshehiredapsychicforthe
party, she did it as a joke, a lark, a spooky bit of good clean fun. Sabine is left-brained, organized,
compartmentalized, operating on pure black-and-white logic and avoiding all gray. And if I was ever
dumbenoughtoconfideinher,torevealtherealsecretsofmylife,she'ddomorethanjustarrangeforme

tospeakwithsomeone.She'dhavemecommitted.

Justlikeshepromised,Sabinehidesallthealcoholbeforesheheadsbacktowork,butIjustwaittil

she'sgone,thenslinkdownstairsandheadforthepantry,retrievingallthebottlesofvodkaleftoverfrom
theHalloweenparty,theonessheshovedinthebackandforgotallabout.AndafterIhaul'emuptomy
room,Iplopdownonmybed,thrilledbytheprospectofthreefullweekswithoutanyschool.Twenty-one
long glorious days all sprawled out before me like food before an overfed cat. One week for my
pleadeddown suspension, and two for the conveniently scheduled winter break. And I plan to make the
mostofeverysinglemoment,spendingeachlonglazydayinavodka-fueledhaze.

Ileanbackagainstthepillowsandunscrewthecap,determinedtopacemyselfbylimitingeachsip,

allowingthealcoholtotrailallthewaydownmythroatandintomybloodstreambeforetakinganother.
Noguzzling,nogulping,nochuggingallowed.Justaslowandsteadystreamuntilmyheadstartstoclear
andthewholeworldgrowsbrighter.Sinkingdownintoamuchhappierplace.Aworldwithoutmemories.
Ahomewithoutloss.

AlifewhereIonlyseewhatIamsupposedto.

ChapterTwenty-Nine

OnthemorningofDecember21,Imakemywaydownstairs.Anddespitebeingdizzy,blearyeyed,

andcompletelyhungover,Iputonaprettygoodshowofbrewingcoffeeandmakingbreakfast,wanting
Sabinetoleaveforworkconvincedalliswell,soIcanreturntomyroomandsinkbackintomyliquid
haze.

AndthesecondIhearhercarleavethedrive,IpourtheCheeriosdownthedrainandheadupstairs

tomyroom,retrievingabottlefromunderthebedandunscrewingthecap,anticipatingtherushofthat
warmsweetliquidthatwillsoothemyinsides,eraseallmypain,gnawawaymyanxietiesandfearsuntil
nothingremains.

Thoughforsomereason,Ican'tstopstaringatthecalendarhangingovermydesk,thedatejumping

out at me, shouting and waving and nudging like an annoying poke in the ribs. So I get up and move
towardit,peeringatitsblankemptysquare,noobligations,noappointments,notabirthdayreminderin
sight,justthewordsWINTERSOLSTICEintinyblacktype,adatethepublisherdeemsimportant,though
itmeansnothingtome.

Iplopbackdownonmybed,myheadproppedonamoundofpillowsasItakeanotherlongpull

fromthebottle.Closingmyeyesasthatwarmwonderfulheatcoursesrightthroughme,flushingmyveins
andsoothingmymind-likeDamenusedtodowithmerelyagaze.

Itakeanothersip,andthenanother,toofast,tooreckless,notatalllikeI'vepracticed.Butnowthat

I've resurrected his memory, I only want to erase it. So I continue like that, drinking, sipping, guzzling,
gulping—untilIcanfinallyrest,untilhe'sfinallyfadedaway.

When I wake, I'm filled with the warmest, most peaceful feeling of all-consuming love. Like I'm

bundledinarayofgoldensunlight,sosafe,sohappy,sosecure,Iwanttostayinthatplaceandlivethere
forever.Iclenchmyeyesshut,graspingthemoment,determinedtohangon,untilatickleonmynose,an
almostimperceptibleflutter,makesmeopenthemagainandboltfrommybed.

Iclutchatmychest,myheartpoundingsohardIcanfeelit,asIgazeatthesingleblackfeatherthat

wasleftonmypillow.

ThesameblackfeatherIworethenightIdressedasMarieAntoinette.
ThesameblackfeatherDamentookasasouvenir.AndIknowhewashere.
Iglanceattheclock,wonderinghowIcould'vepossiblysleptforsolong.AndwhenIgazeacross

theroom,IseethepaintingI'dleftinthetrunkofmycarisnowproppedagainstthefarwall,leftformeto
see.ButinsteadofDamen'sversionofWomanwithYellowHairIexpected,I'mconfrontedwithanimage
ofapaleblondgirlrunningthroughadark,foggycanyon.

Acanyonjustliketheoneinmydream.
Andwithoutknowingwhy,Igrabmycoat,shovemyfeetintosomeflip-flops,thenraceintoSabine's

room,retrievingthecarkeysshehidinherdrawer,beforesprintingdownstairsandintothegarage,no
ideawhereI'mgoing,orwhy.IjustknowIhavetogetthere,andthatI'llknowitwhenIseeit.

I drive north on PCH, heading straight for downtown Laguna. Weaving my way through the usual

MainBeachbottleneck,beforeturningonBroadwayanddodgingpedestrians.AndthemomentI'mfreeof
those overcrowded streets, I punch the gas and drive on instinct, burying some miles between me and
downtown,beforecuttinginfrontofanoncomingcar,brakinginthelotforthewildernesspark,pocketing
mykeysandcellphone,andrushingtowardthetrail.

Thefogisrollinginfast,makingithardtosee,andeventhoughthere'sthispartofmetellingmeto

turn back, go home, that being here in the dark, all by myself, is nothing but crazy, I can't stop, I'm
compelledtomoveon,asthoughmyfeetaremovingoftheirownaccord,andallIcandoisjustfollow.

Iburymyhandsinmypockets,shiveringagainstthecold,asIstumblealong,withnoideawhereI'm

going,nodestinationinmind,it'sthesameashowIgothere,I'lljustknowitwhenIseeit.

AndwhenIstubmytoeonarock,Ifalltotheground,howlingwithpain.Butbythetimemycell

phonerings,I'vetoneditdowntobarelyawhimper.

"Yeah?"Isay,strugglingtostand,mybreathcomingshallowandquick.
"Isthathowyouansweryourphonethesedays?Becausethatissonotworkingforme."
"What's up, Miles?" I brush myself off and continue down the trail, this time with a little more

caution.

"Ijustwantedyoutoknowthatyou'remissingaprettywildparty.Andsinceweallknowhowmuch

youliketopartythesedays,IthoughtI'dinviteyou.Though,tobehonest,Ishouldn'tbuilditupsomuch
becauseit'sreallymorefunnythanfun.Imean,youshouldseeit,there'slike,hundredsofgothsfillingup
thecanyon,itlookslikeaDraculaconventionorsomething."

"IsHaventhere?"Iask,mystomachinvoluntarilyclenchingwhenIsayhername.
"Yeah,she'ssearchingforDrina.Rememberthebigsecretevent?Well,thisisprettymuchit.That

girlcannotkeepasecret,evenherown."

"Ithoughttheyweren'tintogothanymore?"
"SodidHaven,andbelieveme,she'sprettypissedaboutgettingthedresscodeallwrong."
I'vejustmadeittothecrestofahillwhenIseethevalleyfloodedwithlight."Didyousayyou'rein

thecanyon?"

"Yeah."
"Metoo.Infact,I'malmostthere,"Isay,startingdowntheotherside.
"Wait—you'rehere?"
"Yeah,I'mheadingtowardthelightaswespeak."
"Did you go through a tunnel first? Haha, get it?" And when I don't respond, he says, "How'd you

evenknowaboutit?"

Well, I woke up in a drunken stupor with a black feather tickling my nose and an eerily prophetic

paintingproppedagainstmywall,soIdidwhatanyinsanepersonwoulddo,Igrabbedacoat,slippedon
someflip-flops,andranoutofthehouseinmynightgown!

KnowingIcan'texactlysaythat,Idon'tsayanything.Whichonlymakeshimevenmoresuspicious.
"DidHaventellyou?"heasks,adefiniteedgetohisvoice.
"BecauseshesworeIwastheonlyoneshetold.Imean,nooffenseoranything.Butstill."
"No,Miles,Iswearshedidn'ttellme,Ijustfoundout.Anyway,I'malmostthere,soI'llseeyouina

minute—ifIdon'tgetlostinthefog..."

"Fog?There'snofo—"
And before he can finish, the phone is yanked out of my hand, as Drina smiles and says, "Hello,

Ever.Itoldyouwe'dmeetagain."

ChapterThirty

IknowIshouldrun,scream,dosomething.ButinsteadIjustfreeze,myrubberflip-flopsstickingto

thegroundasthoughthey'vegrownroots.AndIstareatDrina,wonderingnotonlyhowIendeduphere,
butwhatshecouldpossiblyhaveinmind.

"Ain'tloveabitch?"Shesmiles,headcockedtothesideasshelooksmeover."Justwhenyoumeet

themanofyourdreams,aguywhoseemstoogoodtobetrue,justlikethat,youfindoutheistoogoodto
betrue.Atleasttoogoodforyou.Andthenextthingyouknowyou'remiserableandalone,andwell,let's
face it, drunk a good deal of the time. Though I must say, I have enjoyed watching your descent into
adolescent addiction. So predictable, sotextbook. You know what I mean? The lying, the sneaking, the
stealing, all of your energy focused on securing your fix. Which only made my task that much easier.
Because every drink you took just weakened your defenses, blunted all the stimuli, yes, but it also left
yourmindvulnerable,open,andeasierformetomanipulate."Shegrabsholdofmyarm,hersharpnails
pressingintomywrist,asshepullsmerighttoher.AndeventhoughItrytoyankfree,it'snouse.She's
freakishlystrong.

"Youmortals."Shepursesherlips."You'resuchfuntotease,sucheasytargets.YouthinkIsetupthis

whole elaborate ruse just to end it so soon? Sure, there are easier ways to do this. Hell, if I wanted, I
could'vedoneawaywithyouinyourbedroom,whileIwassettingthestage.Itwould'vebeensomuch
quicker,lesstimeconsuming,thoughdearly,notnearlyasfun.Foreitherofus,don'tyouagree?"

Igapeather,takinginherflawlessface,coifedhair,perfectlytailoredblacksilkdress,nippingand

flowinginalltherightplaces,allofithighlightingherbreathtakingbeauty,andwhensherunsherhand
throughhershinycopper-tingedhair,Iseeherouroborostattoo.ButassoonasIblink,it'svanishedagain.

"Solet'ssee,youthoughtDamenwasleadingyouhere,summoningyou,againstyourwill.Sorryto

disappoint you, Ever, but it was me, the whole elaborate ruse, created by me. I just love December
twenty-first,don'tyou?Thewintersolstice,orlongestnight,allofthoseridiculousgothspartyinginsome
dopeycanyon."Sheshrugs,herelegantshouldersrisingandfalling,thetattooonherwristcominginand
outofview"Pardonmyflairforthedramatic.Thoughitdoeskeeplifeinteresting,don'tyouagree?"Itry
topullawayagain,butshegripsmethatmuchtighter,hernailsdiggingin,elicitingaterriblesharpache
astheypiercerightthroughmyflesh.

"Nowlet'sjustsaythatIdidletyougo.Whatwouldyoudo?Runaway?I'mfaster.Lookforyour

friend? Oops, my bad. Haven's not even here. It seems I've sent her to the wrong party, in the wrong
canyon. She's wandering around as we speak., pushing and shoving through hundreds of ridiculous
vampirewannabes,lookingforme."Shelaughs.

"Ithoughtwe'denjoyasmaller,moreintimategathering."Shesmiles,hereyessweepingoverme.

"Anditlookslikeourguestofhonorishere."

"Whatdoyouwant?"Isay,grittingmyteethasshetightensherhold,thebonesinmywristgiving

way,crushingagainsteachotherinunbearablepain.

"Don'trushme."Shenarrowsheramazinggreeneyesonmine."AIIingoodtime.NowwherewasI

beforeyousorudelyinterrupted?Ah,yes,weweretalkingaboutyou,howyouendeduphere,andhow
it'snotturningoutanythinglikeyouexpected.Butthen,nothinginyourlifeiswhatyouexpected,isit?
And,truthbetold,itneverhas,was,orIsuspect,willbe.Yousee,DamenandIgowayback.I'mtalking
way,way,way,way,way—well,yougetthepicture.Andyet,despiteallofthoseyearstogether,despite
ourlongevity,youjustkeepshowingupandgettingintheway"

Igazeattheground,wonderinghowIcould'vebeensostupid,sonaive.Noneofthiswaseverabout

Haven—itwasallaboutme.

"Aw, don't be so hard on yourself. This isn't the first time you've made this mistake. I've been

responsibleforyourdemise,for,let'ssee—howmanylifetimes?"Sheshrugs.

"Well,IguessIlostcount."
AndsuddenlyIrememberwhatDamensaid,intheparkinglot,aboutnotbeingabletolosemeagain.

ButwhenIlookatherandseeherfacehardenandchange,Iclearmymindofsuchthoughts,knowingshe
canreadthem.

She walks around me, swinging my arm as she goes, making me spin in circles before her as she

cluckshertongueagainsttheinsideofhercheek."Let'ssee,ifmemoryserves,anditalwaysdoes,then
thelastfewtimesweplayedalittlegamecalledTrickorTreat.AndIthinkit'sonlyfairtoinformyouup
frontthatitdidn'treallyworkoutsowellforyou.Still,youneverseemtotireofit,soIthoughtperhaps
you'dliketotryitagain?"

I gaze at her, dizzy from the spinning, the residual alcohol clinging to my veins, her thinly veiled

threat.

"Everwatchacatkillamouse?"Shesmiles,eyesglowing,ashertonguesnakesaroundtheoutside

ofherlips."Howtheytoywiththeirpoorpatheticpreyforthelongesttime,untiltheyfinallygetbored
andfinishthejob?"

Iclosemyeyes,notwantingtohearanymore.Thinkingthatifshe'ssointentonkillingmethenwhy

doesn'tshejusthurryupanddoitalready?

"Wellthatwouldbethetreat,atleastforme."Shelaughs.
"And the trick? Aren't you curious about the trick?" And when I don't respond, she sighs. "Well,

you'reratherdull,aren'tyou?ThoughIsupposeI'lltellyouanywayYousee,thetrickis—Ipretendtolet
yougo,thenIstandbackandwatchasyourunaroundincircles,tryingtoevademe,untilyoufinallywear
yourself out, and I proceed toward the treat. So what'll it be? Slow death? Or agonizingly slow death?
Comeon,hurryup,clock'sticking!"

"Whydoyouwanttokillme?"Ilookather."Whycan'tyoujustletmebe?DamenandIaren'tevena

couple,Ihaven'tseenhimforweeks!"

But she just laughs. "Nothing personal, Ever. But Damen and I always seem to get along so much

betteronceyou'vebeeneliminated."

AndeventhoughIthoughtIwantedaquickdemise,I'venowchangedmymind.Irefusetogiveup

withoutafight.Evenifit'soneI'mdestinedtolose.Sheshakesherheadandlooksatme,disappointment
marringherface."Andsoitis.Youchoosetrick,right?"Sheshakesherhead.''Verywellthen,offyou
go!"

SheletsgoofmyarmandIfleethroughthecanyon,knowingthere'sprobablynothingthatcansave

me,butknowingIstillhavetotry.Ipushthehairfrommyeyesandraceblindlythroughthefog,hopingto
locatethetrail,getbacktowhereIstarted.

Mylungsthreateningtoexplodeinmychest,asmyflipflopsbreakandabandonmyfeet,butstillI

run. Running as the sharp cold rocks slice into my soles. Running as a searing hot pain burns a hole
throughmyribs.Runningpasttreeswhosesharp,unadornedbranchessnatchatmyjacketandripitright
offme.Runningformylife—eventhoughI'mnotsureit'sworthliving.

AndasI'mrunning,IrememberanothertimeIranlikethis.Butalsolikemydream,Ihavenoidea

howitends.

I'vejustreachedtheedgeoftheclearingthatleadsbacktothetrail,whenDrinastepsoutofthemist

andstandsrightbeforeme.AndeventhoughIdodge,andtrytomovepasther,sheliftsonelanguidleg
andassistsmeinafaceplant.

I lie on the ground, blinking into a pool of my own blood, listening to the derisive laughter she

directsrightatme.AndwhenItentativelytouchmyface,mynoseflopstotheside,andIknowthatit's
broken.

Istruggletostand,spittingrocksfrommymouth,cringingindismayasastreamofbloodandteeth

tumbleouttoo.AndIwatchassheshakesherheadandsays,"Wow,youlookawful,Ever."Shegrimaces
indisgust."Seriouslyawful.OnewonderswhatDameneversawinyou."

My body's racked with pain, my breath's shallow, unsteady, as mouthfuls of blood coat my tongue

withatastethat'smetallicandbitter.

"Well, I suppose you'll want all the details, even though you won't remember them the next time

around.Still,it'salwaysfuntoseetheshockonyourfacewhenIexplainittoyou."Shelaughs."Idon't
knowwhy,butforsomereason,Ineverboreofthisparticularepisode,nomatterhowmanytimeswere-
runit.Plus,ifI'mgoingtobeperfectlyhonest,thenIhavetoadmititallowsforadeliciouslyprolonged
pleasure. Kind of like foreplay, not that you would know anything about that. All these lifetimes and
somehowyoualwaysdieavirgin.Whichwouldbesosad,ifitwasn'tsofunny."Shescoffs."So,where
tobegin,wheretobegin?"Shelooksatme,lipspursed,red-manicurednailstappingthesidesofherhips.
"Okay,well,asyouknow,I'mtheonewhoswappedthepicturefromtheoneinyourtrunk.Imean,youas
thewomanwiththeyellowhair?I.Don't.Think.So.Andbetweenyouandme,Picassowould'vebeen
furious.Still,Idolovehim.Damen,thatis.Notthatolddeadartist."Shelaughs.'Anywho,let'ssee,I
plantedthefeather."Sherollshereyes."Damencanbeso—maudlin.Oh,

Ievenplantedthatdreaminyourhead.How'sthatformonthsofmysteriousforeshadowing?Andno,

I'mnotgoingtoexplainallthehowsandwhysbecausethatwouldtaketoolong,and,quitefrankly,it's
hardlyimportantwhereyou'regoing.Toobadyoudidn'tjustdieinthataccident,becauseyoucould've
savedusbothalotoftrouble.Doyouhaveanyideahowmuchdamageyou'vecaused?Imean,becauseof
youEvangelineisdeadandHaven—well,lookhowcloseshecame.Imean,reallyEver,howselfishof
you."

ShelooksatmebutIrefusetorespond.Wonderingifthatqualifiesasanadmissionofguilt.
Shelaughs."Well,you'reabouttoexitnow,soyes,noharminconfessing."Sheliftsherrighthandas

thoughsolemnlyswearing."I,DrinaMagdalenaAuguste"—sheraisesherbrowatmewhenshesaysthat
last part—"effectively eliminated Evangeline a.k.a. June Porter, who, by the way, was contributing
nothingandonlytakingupspacesoit'snotnearlyassadasyouthink.Ineededtogetheroutofthewayso
I'd have full access to Haven." She smiles, her eyes grazing over me. "Yes, just like you suspected, I
purposelystoleyourfriendHaven.Whichissoeasytodowiththoselostandunlovedoneswhoareso
desperatelycravingattentionthey'lldojustaboutanythingforsomeonewhogivesthemthetimeofday.
Andyes,Iconvincedhertogetatattoothatnearlykilledher,butonlybecauseIcouldn'tdecideifIshould

killher—killher,orkillhersothatIcouldbringherbackandmakeherimmortal.It'sbeensolongsinceI
lasthadanacolyte,andImustsay,Ireallydidenjoyit.But,thenagain,indecisivenesshasalwaysbeena
weakness of mine. When you have so many options spread out before you and an eternity to see them
playedout,well,it'shardnottogetgreedyandwanttochoosethemall!"Shesmiles,likeachildwho's
simply been naughty, but nothing more. "Still, I waited too long, and then Damen stepped in—well
meaning,altruisticsapthatheis—and,well,youknowtherest.Oh,andIgotMilesthatpartinHairspray.
Though,inallfairness,heprobablycould'venailedithimself,becausethekidhasloadsoftalent.Still,I
couldn'ttakeanychances,soIclimbedinsidethedirector'sheadandswungthevoteinhisfavor.Oh,and
Sabine and Jeff? My bad. But still, it worked out beautifully, don't you think? Imagine, your smart,
successful,savvyauntfallingforthatloser."Shelaughs."Pathetic,andyet,quitefunny,don'tyouthink?"

Butwhy?Whywouldyoudothis?Ithink,nolongerabletospeaksinceI'mmissingmostofmyteeth

and gagging on my own blood, but knowing it's not necessary, knowing she can hear the thoughts in my
head.Whyinvolveeveryoneelse,whynotjustgoafterme?

"Iwantedtoshowyouhowlonelyyourlifecanbe.Iwantedtodemonstratehoweasyitisforpeople

to abandon you in favor of something better, more exciting. You're all alone, Ever. Isolated, unloved,
alone. Your life is pathetic and hardly worth living. So, as you can see, I'm doing you a favor." She
smiles."ThoughI'msureyouwon'tthankme."

Igazeather,wonderinghowsomeonesoamazinglybeautifulcouldbesouglyinside.ThenIstare

intohereyesandtakeatinystepback,hopingshewon'tnotice.I'mnotevenwithDamenanymore.We
brokeupalongtimeago.Sowhydon'tyougofindhim,wecangoourseparateways,andforgetthisever
happened!Ithink,hopingtodistracther.

She laughs and rolls her eyes. "Trust me, you're the only one who will forget this ever happened.

Besides,it'sreallynotthatsimple.Youhavenoideahowthisworks,doyou?"

She'sgotmethere.
"You see, Damen is mine. And he's always been mine. But unfortunately, you keep showing up, in

yourstupid,boring,repetitivesoulrecycle.Andsinceyouinsistondoingthat,it'sbecomemyjobtotrack
youdownandkillyoueachtime."ShetakesasteptowardmeasItakeastepback,thebloodysoleofmy
footlandingonapointysharprockasIclosemyeyesandwinceinunbearablepain.

"Youthinkthathurt?,'Shelaughs."Justwait."
Iglancearoundthecanyon,eyesdartingfuriously,scanningforawayout,somekindofescape.Then

Itakeanotherstepbackandstumbleagain.Myhandbrushingthegroundasmyfingerscurlaroundasharp
rockthatIhurlatherface,smackinghersquareinthejawandtearingachunkfromhercheek.

She laughs, the hole in her face spurting blood and revealing two missing teeth. Then I watch in

horrorasitrightsitselfagain,returningherbacktoherpureseamlessbeauty.

"Thisagain."Shesighs."Comeon,trysomethingnew,seeifyoucanamusemeforachange."
She stands before me, hands on hips, brows raised, but I refuse to run. I refuse to make the next

move.Irefusetogiveherthesatisfactionofyetanotherfool'srace.Besides,everythingshesaidistrue.
Mylifereallyisalonelyhorriblemess.AndeveryoneItouchgetsdraggeddowninittoo.

Iwatchassheadvancesonme,smilinginanticipation,knowingmyendisnear.SoIclosemyeyes

andrememberthemomentrightbeforetheaccident.BackwhenIwashealthyandhappyandsurrounded
by family. Imagining it so vividly I can feel the warm leather seat beneath my bare legs, I can sense
Buttercup's tail thumping against my thigh, I can hear Riley singing at the top of her lungs, her voice
inharmonious,horriblyoff-key.Icanseemymom'ssmileassheturnsinherseat,herhandreachingoutto
chuckRiley'sknee.Icanseemydad'seyes,bothofusgazingintotherearviewmirror,hissmileknowing,
kind,andamused—Iholdontothatmoment,cradlingitinmymind,experiencingthefeel,thescents,the

sounds, the emotions, as though I'm right there. Wanting this to be the last moment I see before I go,
relivingthelasttimeIwastrulyhappy.

AndjustwhenI'msofarin,it'sasthoughI'mrightthere,IhearDrinagasp."Whatthehell?"
And I open my eyes to see the shock on her face, her eyes sweeping over me, her mouth hanging

open.ThenIgazedownatagownthat'snolongertorn,feetthatarenolongerbloody,kneesthatareno
longerscraped,andwhenIrunmytonguearoundafullsetofteethandbringmyhandtomynose,Iknow
thatmyfaceishealedtoo.AndeventhoughI'venoideawhatitmeans,IknowIneedtoactfast,before
it'stoolate.

AndasDrinastepsback,hereyeswide,fullofquestions,Imovetowardher,notsurewhatthenext

stepwillbring,ortheoneafterthat.AllIknowisthatI'mrunningoutoftime,asIrushforwardandsay,
"HeyDrina,trickortreat'?"

ChapterThirty-One

Atfirstshejuststares,greeneyeswideandunbelieving,thensheliftsherchinandbaresherteeth.

Butbeforeshecanattack,Ilungetowardher.Determinedtogettoherfirst,totakeherdownwhileIcan.
ButjustasIspringforward,Iseethisshimmeringveilofsoftgoldenlight,aluminouscirclejustofftothe
side, glowing and beckoning, like the one in my dream. And even though Drina planted those dreams,
eventhoughit'sprobablyatrap,Ican'thelpbutveertowardit.

Itumblethroughabrillianthaze,ashoweroflightsoloving,sowarm,sointense,itcalmsmynerves

andsoothesallmyfears.AndwhenIlandinafieldofvibrantgreengrass,thebladesholdme,support
me,andcushionmyfall.

I gaze at the meadow around me, its flowers blooming with petals that seem lit from within,

surroundedbytreesthatreachfarintothesky,theirbranchessaggingwithripejuicyfruit.AndasIlie
therequietly,takingitallin,Ican'thelpbutfeellikeI'vebeenherebefore.

"Ever."
I spring to my feet, poised and ready to fight. And when I see that it's Damen, I take a step back,

havingnoideawhosesidehe'sreallyon.

"Ever,relax.It'sokay."Henods,smilingasheoffershishand.ButIrefusetotakeit,refusetofall

forhisbait.SoItakeanotherstepbackasmyeyessearchforDrina.

"She'snothere."Henods,hiseyesfixedonmine."You'resafe,it'sjustme."
I hesitate, debating whether or not to believe him, doubting he could ever be thought of as safe.

Staring at him, while weighing my options (which are admittedly few), until I finally ask, "Where are
we?"Inplaceofmyactualquestion:AmIdead?

"Iassureyou,you'renotdead."Helaughs,readingmythoughts."You'reinSummerland."
Ilookathim,withoutevenahintofunderstanding.
"It'sasortof—placebetweenplaces.Likeawaitingroom.Orareststop.Adimensionbetweenthe

dimensions,ifyouwill."

"Dimensions?"Isquint,thewordsoundingforeign,unfamiliar,atleastinthewaythatheusesit.And

when he reaches for my hand, I quickly pull away, knowing it's impossible to see anything clearly
wheneverhetouchesme.

Hegazesatme,thenshrugs,motioningformetofollowhimthroughameadowwhereeveryflower,

everytree,everysinglebladeofgrassbendsandswaysandtwistsandcurveslikepartnersinaninfinite
dance.

"Closeyoureyes,"hewhispers.AndwhenIdon'theadds,"Please?"

Iclosethem.Halfway.
"Trustme."Hesighs."Justthisonce."SoIdo."Nowwhat?"
"Nowimaginesomething."
"Whatdoyoumean?"Iask,immediatelypicturingagiantelephant.
"Imaginesomethingelse,"hesays,"quickly."
Iopenmyeyes,startledtoseeaginormouselephantchargingrightatus,thenIgaspinamazement

when I transform him into a butterfly—a beautiful Monarch butterfly that lands right on the tip of my
finger.

"How—?"IglancebetweenDamenandthebutterfly,itsblackantennaetwitchingatme.
Damenlaughs."Wanttotryagain?"
Ipressmylipsandlookathim,tryingtothinkofsomethinggood,somethingbetterthananelephant

orabutterfly.

"Goahead,"heurges."It'ssomuchfun.Itnevergetsold."
Iclosemyeyesandimaginethebutterflyturningintoabird,andwhenIopenthemagainacolorful

majesticmacawisperchedonmyfinger.Butwhenamessytrailofbirdpoopdripsdownmyarm,Damen
handsmeatowelandsays,"Howaboutsomethingwithalittleless—cleanup?"

Isetthebirddownandwatchitflyaway,thenIclosemyeyes,ferventlywishing,andwhenIopen

themagain,OrlandoBloomhastakenhisplace.

Damengroansandshakeshishead.
"Ishereal?"Iwhisper,gapinginamazementasOrlandoBloomsmilesandwinksatme.
Damenshakeshishead."Youcan'tmanifestactualpeople,onlytheirlikeness.Luckily,itwon'tbe

longbeforehefades."

Andwhenhedoes,Ican'thelpbutfeelalittlesad.
"What'sgoingon?"Iask,lookingatDamen."Wherearewe?Andhowisthisevenpossible?"
Damensmilesandmakesabeautifulwhitestallionappear.Aftergettingmemountedandsettled,he

makesablackoneforhim."Let'sgoforaride,"hesays,leadingmedownatrail.

Weridesidebyside,downabeautiful,manicuredpath,cuttingrightthroughthevalleyofflowers

andtreesandasparklingstreamthecolorofrainbows.AndwhenIseemyparrotperchednexttoacatI
veerfromthetrail,readytoshoohimaway,butDamengrabsthereinsandsays,"Noworries.Thereare
noenemies.Allisatpeacehere."

WerideinsilenceasIgapeatthesurroundingbeauty,strugglingtotakeitallin,thoughit'snotlong

beforemymindstartsreelingwithallsortsofquestionsandnocluewheretobegin.

"Theveilyousaw?Theoneyouweredrawnto?"Helooksatme."Iputitthere."
"Inthecanyon?"
Henods."Andinyourdream."
"ButDrinasaysshecreatedthedream."Ilookathim,seeinghowherideswithsuchconfidence,so

sure in the saddle. But then I remember the painting on his wall, the one of him mounted on the white
stallion,swordbyhisside,andIfigurehe'sbeenatitforawhile.

"Drinashowedyouthelocation,Ishowedyoutheexit."
"Exit?"Isay,myheartpoundingagain.
He shakes his head and smiles. "Not that kind of exit. I already told you, you're not dead. In fact,

you're more alive than ever. Able to manipulate matter and manifest anything you want. The ultimate in
instantgratification."Helaughs.

"Butdon'tcomeheretoooften.BecauseI'mwarningyou,it'saddictive."
"Soyoubothcreatedmydreams?"Iask,squintingathim,tryingtogetahandleonallthesebizarre

events."Like—likeacollaboration?"

Henods.
"SoIdon'tevencontrolmyowndreams?"Isay,myvoicerising,notlikingthesoundofanyofthis.
"Notthatparticulardream,no."Iscowlathim,shakingmyheadwhenIsay,"Well,excuseme,but

don'tyouthinkthat'sjustalittleinvasive?Imean,jeez!Andwhydidn'tyoutrytostopit,ifyouknewit
wascoming?"

He looks at me, his eyes tired and sad. "I didn't know it was Drina. I was just observing your

dreams,youwerefrightenedbysomething,soIshowedyouthewayhere.Thisisalwaysasafeplaceto
cometo."

"Sowhydidn'tDrinafollowme?"Isay,lookingaroundforheragain.
Hereachesformyhandandsqueezesmyfingers."BecauseDrinacan'tseeit,onlyyoucouldseeit."
Isquintathim.Everything'ssoweird,sostrange,andnoneofitmakesanysense.
"Don'tworry,you'llgetit.Butfornow,whynotjusttrytoenjoyit?"
"Whydoesitseemsofamiliar?"Isay,feelingthetugofrecognition,butunabletoplaceit.
"BecausethisiswhereIfoundyou."Ilookathim.
"I found your body outside the car, true. But your soul had already moved on and was lingering

here."

He stops both our horses, and helps me dismount, then he leads me to a warm patch of grass, so

brilliantandsparklinginthewarmgoldenlightthatdoesn'tseemtoemanatefromanyoneplace,andthe
nextthingIknowhe'smanifestedabigcushycouchandamatchingottomanforourfeet.

"Caretoaddanything?"Hesmiles.
Iclosemyeyesandimagineacoffeetable,somelamps,afewknickknacks,andanicePersianrug,

andwhenIopenthemagainwe'reinafullyfurnishedoutdoorlivingroom.

"Whathappenswhenitrains?"Iask
"Don't..."butit'stoolate,we'realreadysoaked.
"Thoughtscreate,"hesays,makingagiantumbrella,therainslopingsteadilyoffthesidesandonto

therug."It'sthesameonEarth,itjusttakesalotlonger.ButhereinSummerland,it'sinstant."

"Thatremindsmeofwhatmymomusedtosay—'Becarefulwhatyouwishfor,youjustmightgetit!

I''Ilaugh.

Henods."Nowyouknowwherethatoriginates.Caretomakethisrainstop,sowecandryoff?"He

shakeshiswethairatme.

"How—"
"Justthinkofsomeplacewarmanddry."Hesmiles.
AndthenextthingIknowwe'relyingonabeautifulpinksandbeach.
"Let'sleaveitatthis?Shallwe?"HelaughsasImakeusaplushybluetowelandaturquoiseocean

to match. And when I lie back and close my eyes against the warmth, he confirms it. Not that I didn't
alreadystarttofigureitoutformyself,butstillnothavingitstatedinacompletesentence.Onethatbegins
with:

"I'manimmortal."Andendswith:"Andyouaretoo."
Isnotsomethingyouheareveryday.
"So,we'rebothimmortals?"Isay,openingoneeyetopeerathim,wonderinghowIcouldhavesuch

abizarreconversationinsuchanormaltoneofvoice.Butthenagain,I'minSummerland,anditdoesn't
getmorebizarrethanthat.

Henods.
"AndyoumademeanimmortalwhenIdiedinthecrash?"Henodsagain.

"Buthow?Doesithavesomethingtodowiththatweirdreddrink?"
Hetakesadeepbreathbeforeanswering."Yes."
"ButhowcomeIdon'thavetodrinkitallthetime,likeyou?"
Heavertshisgazeandlooksouttowardthesea."Eventuallyyouwill."
I sit up picking at a loose string on my towel, still unable to fully wrap my mind around this.

Remembering a time in the not so distant past when I thought just being psychic was a curse, and now
look.

"It'snotasbadasyouthink,"hesays,placinghishandovermine."Lookaround,itdoesn'tgetany

betterthanthis."

"Butwhy?Imean,diditeveroccurtoyouthatmaybeIdon'twanttobeanimmortal?Thatmaybe

youshould'vejustletmego?"

Iwatchashecringes,avertinghisgaze,lookingallaround,focusingoneverythingbutme.Thenhe

turnstomeandsays,"Firstofall,you'reright.Iwasselfish.Becausethetruthis,Isavedyoumorefor
myselfthanforyou.Icouldn'tbeartoloseyouagain,notafter..."Hestopsandshakeshishead."Butstill,
Iwasn'tsureifitworked."

"Obviously I knew I'd brought you back, but I wasn't sure for how long. I wasn't sure I'd actually

turnedyouuntilIsawyouinthecanyonjustnow—"

"Youwerewatchingmeinthecanyon?"Istareathimincredulously.
Henods.
"Youmeanyouwerethere?"
"No,Iwaswatchingyouremotely."Herubshisjaw."It'salottoexplain."
"So let me get this straight. You were watching me, remotely, but still, you could see everything

goingon,andyetyoudidn'ttrytosaveme"AndwhenIsayitoutloudI'msomadIcanbarelybreathe.

He shakes his head. "Not until you wanted to be saved. That's when I made the veil appear, and

urgedyoutomovetowardit."

"Youmeanyouweregoingtoletmedie?"Iscootawayfromhim,notwantingtobeanywherenear

him.

Helooksatme,hisfacecompletelyseriouswhenhesays,
"Ifthat'swhatyouwanted,thenyes."Heshakeshishead.
"Ever,thelasttimewespoke,intheparkinglot,yousaidyouhatedmeforwhatIhaddone,forbeing

selfish, for separating you from your family, for bringing you back. And even though your words really
stung, I knew you were right. I had no business interfering. But then, in the canyon, when you filled
yourselfwithsuchlove,well,thatloveiswhatsavedyou,restoredyou,andit'sthenthatIknew."

Butwhataboutthehospital?Whycouldn'tIrestoremyselfthen?WhydidIhavetosufferthroughall

ofthecasts,andcuts,andcontusions?Whycouldn'tIjust—regenerate,likeIdidinthecanyon?Ithink,
foldingmyarmsacrossmychest,notfullybuyingit.

"Only love heals. Anger, guilt, and fear can only destroy and separate you from your true

capabilities."Henods,hiseyesgrazingoverme.

"Andthat'sanotherthing."Iglareathim."Yourabilitytoreadmymind,whenIcan'treadyours.It's

notfair."

Helaughs."Doyoureallywanttoreadmymind?Ithoughtmyairofmysterywasoneofthethings

youlikedaboutme?"

I gaze down at my knees, my cheeks burning as I think of all the embarrassing thoughts he's been

privyto.

"Therearewaystoshieldyourself,youknowmaybeyoushouldgoseeAva."

"YouknowAva?"Igape,feelingsuddenlygangedupon.
Heshakeshishead."MyonlyconnectiontoAvaisthroughyou,yourthoughtsaboutAva."
Ilookaway,watchingafamilyofbunnieshopby,thenbackathim."Sotheracetrack?"
"Premonition,youdidittoo.""Whatabouttheraceyoulost?"
Helaughs."Ihavetoloseafew,otherwisepeopletendtogetsuspicious.ButIcertainlymadeupfor

it,don'tyouthink?"

"Andthetulips?"
He smiles. "Manifesting. Same way you made the elephant, and this beach. It's simple quantum

physics. Consciousness brings matter into being where there was once merely energy. Not nearly as
difficultaspeoplechoosetothink."

Isquint,notreallygettingit.Nomaterhowsimplehethinksitis."Wecreateourownreality.And

yesyoucandoitathome,"hesays,anticipatingmynextquestion,theonethatjustformedinmyhead."In
fact,youalreadydo,you'rejustnotawareofitbecauseittakessomuchlonger."

"Itdoesn'ttakelongerforyou."
Helaughs."I'vebeenaroundawhile,plentyoftimetolearnafewtricks."
''Howlong?"Iask,gazingathim,rememberingthatroominhishouseandwonderingexactlywhat

I'mdealingwith.

Hesighsandlooksaway."Verylong."
"AndnowI'llliveforevertoo?"
"That'suptoyou."Heshrugs."Youdon'thavetodoanyofthis.Youcansimplyputthewholething

outofyourmindandgoonwithyourlife.Choosingtoletgowhenthetimeisright.Ionlyprovidedthe
ability,butthechoiceisstillyours."

Istareoutattheocean,itssparklingwaterssobrilliant,sobeautiful,Icanhardlybelieveitexists

becauseofme.Andeventhoughit'sfuntoplaywithsuchpowerfulmagic,mythoughtssoonturntodarker
things.

"IneedtoknowwhathappenedwithHaven.ThatdayIcaughtyou..."Igrimaceatthememory."And

whataboutDrina?She'simmortaltoo,right?Didyoumakeherthatway?Andhowdidthisevenbegin?

How did you become immortal in the first place? How does such a thing even happen? Did you

knowshekilledEvangeline,andalmostkilledHaventoo?Andwhat'supwithyourcreepyroom?"

"Canyourepeatthequestion?"Helaughs.
"Oh,andanotherthing,whattheheckdidDrinameanwhenshesaidshe'skilledmeoverandover

again?"

"Drinasaidthat?"Hiseyesgowideashisfacedrainsofcolor.
"Yeah."Inod,rememberinghersmugandhaughtyfaceasshebrokethenews."Shewasall,'Here

wegoagain,stupidmortal,youalwaysfallforthisgame,blahblahblah.'Ithoughtyouwerewatching,I
thoughtyousawthewholething?"

Heshakeshishead,mumbling."Ididn'tseethewholething,Itunedinlate.OhGod,Ever,it'sallmy

fault,allofit.Ishould'veknown,Ishould'venevergottenyouinvolved,Ishould'veleftyoualone—"

"ShealsosaidshesawyouinNewYork.OratleastshetoldHaventhat."
"She lied," he mumbles. "I didn't go to New York." And when he looks at me his eyes are etched

withsuchpain,Ireachforhishandandholditinmine.Shakenbyhowsadandvulnerablehelooksand
wantingonlytoeraseit.Ipressmylipsagainsthiswarmwaitingmouth,hopingtoconveythatwhateverit
is,there'saprettygoodchanceI'llforgivehim.

"Thekissgetssweeterwitheveryincarnation."Hesighs,pullingawayandbrushingmyhairoffmy

face."Thoughweneverseemtomakeitfurtherthanthat.AndnowIknowwhy."Hepresseshisforehead

to mine, infusing me with such joy, such all consuming love, then sighing deeply before pulling away.
"Aw,yes,yourquestions,"hesays,readingmymind."Wheretobegin?"

"Howaboutthebeginning?"
Henods,hisgazedriftingaway,allthewaybacktothebeginning,asIcrossmylegsandsettlein.

"Myfatherwasadreamer,anartist,adabblerinsciencesandalchemy,apopularideaatthetime—"

"Which time?" I ask, hungry for places, dates, things that can be nailed down and researched, not

somephilosophicallitanyofabstractideas.

"Alongtimeago."Helaughs."Iamatadbitolderthanyou."
"Yes, but how old exactly? I mean, what kind of age difference am I dealing with here?" I ask,

watchingincredulouslyasheshakeshishead.

"Allyouneedtoknowisthatmyfather,alongwithhisfellowalchemists,believedthateverything

could be reduced down to one single element, and that if you could isolate that one element, then you
couldcreateanythingfromit.Heworkedonthattheoryforyears,creatingformulas,abandoningformulas,
andthenwhenheandmymotherboth...died,Icontinuedthesearch,untilIfinallyperfectedit."

"Andhowoldwereyou?"Iask,tryingagain.
"Young."Heshrugs."Quiteyoung."
"Soyoucanstillage?"
Helaughs."Yes,Igottoacertainpoint,andthenIjuststopped.Iknowyoupreferthefrozenintime

vampiretheory,butthisisreallife,Ever,notfantasy."

"Okay,so..."Iurge,anxiousformore.
"So,myparentsdied,Iwasorphaned.Youknow,inItaly,whereI'mfrom,lastnamesoftendepicted

aperson'soriginsorprofession.Espositomeansorphan,orexposed.Thenamewasgiventome,thoughI
droppeditacenturyortwoago,sinceitnolongerfit."

"Whydidn'tyoujustuseyourreallastname?"
"It'scomplicated.Myfatherwas...hunted.SoIthoughtitbettertodistancemyself."
"AndDrina?"Iask,mythroatconstrictingatthemerementionofhername.
He nods. "Poverina—or, little poor one. We were wards of the church, that's where we met. And

whenshegrewill,Icouldn'tbeartoloseher,soIhadherdrinktoo."

"Shesaidyouweremarried."Ipressmylipstogether,mythroatfeelinghotandconstricted,knowing

shedidn'tactuallysaythat,thoughitwasdefinitelyimpliedwhenshestatedhername,herfullname.

Hesquintsandlooksaway,shakinghisheadandmumblingunderhisbreath.
"Isittrue?"Iask,mystomachinknots,myheartpressinghardagainstmychest.
Henods."Butit'shardlywhatyouthink,ithappenedsolongagoithardlymattersanymore."
"Sowhydidn'tyougetdivorced?Imean,ifithardlymatters,"Isay,mycheekshot,myeyesstinging.
"So you're proposing I show up in court with a wedding certificate dating back several centuries,

andaskforadivorce?"

Ipressmylipsandlookaway,knowinghe'sright,butstill.
"Ever,please.You'vegottocutmesomeslack.I'mnotlikeyou.You'veonlybeenaround,wellin

this life anyway, seventeen years, while I've lived hundreds! More than enough time to make a few
mistakes.Andwhiletherearecertainlyplentyofthingstojudgemeon,Ihardlythinkmyrelationshipwith
Drina is one of them. Things were different back then. I was different. I was vain, superficial, and
extremelymaterialistic.Iwasoutformyself,takingallthatIcould.ButthemomentImetyoueverything
changed, and when I lost you, well, I never knew such agonizing pain. But then later, when you
reappeared—"Hestops,hisgazefaraway."Well,nosoonerhadIfoundyou,thanIlostyouagain.And
soitwent,overandover.Anendlesscycleofloveandloss—untilnow"

"So,we...reincarnate?"Isay,thewordsoundingstrangeonmytongue.
"Youdo—notme."Heshrugs."I'malwayshere,alwaysthesame."
"So,whowasI?"Iask,notsureifIreallybelieveit,yetfascinatedwiththeconcept."Andwhycan't

Iremember?"

He smiles, happy to change the subject. "The journey back involves a trip down the River of

Forgetfulness.You'renotmeanttoremember,you'reheretolearn,toevolve,topayoffyourkarmicdebts.
Eachtimestartingfresh,forcedtofindyourownway.Because,Ever,lifeisnotmeanttobeanopenbook
test."

"Thenaren'tyoucheating,bystayinghere?"Isay,smirkingatMr.LetMeTellYouHowtheWorld

Works.

Hecringes."Somemightsay."
"Andhowcanyoupossiblyknowallofthisifyou'veneverdoneityourself?"
"I'vehadplentyofyearstostudylife'sgreatestmysteries.AndI'vemetsomeamazingteachersalong

the way. All you need to know about your other selves is that you were always female." He smiles,
tuckingmyhairbehindmyear.

"Alwaysverybeautiful.Andalwaysimportanttome."
Istareatthesea,manifestafewwavesjustfortheheckofit,thenmakeitallgoaway.Everything.

Allofit.Returningustoouroutdoorlivingroom.

"Changeofscenery?"Hesmiles.
"Yes,butonlythescenery,notthesubject."
Hesighs."SoafteryearsofsearchingIfoundyouagain—andyouknowtherest."
Itakeadeepbreathandstareatthelamp,clickingitoffandon,onandoffwithmymind,tryingto

getagriponallthis.

"IbrokeoffwithDrinaalongtimeago,butshehasthisawfulhabitofreappearing.Andthenightat

theSt.Regis?

When you saw us together? I was trying to convince her to move on, once and for all. Though

obviously, it didn't quite work. And yes, I know she killed Evangeline, because that day at the beach,
whenyouwokeupalone?"

Inarrowmyeyes,thinking:Iknewit!Iknewhewasn'tsurfing!
"I'd just found her body, but it was too late to save her. And yes, I know about Haven too, though

luckily,Iwasabletosaveher."

"Sothat'swhereyouwerethatnight—whenyousaidyouweregettingadrinkofwater..."
Henods.
"Sowhatelsehaveyouliedabout?"Iask,foldingmyarmsacrossmychest."Andwhere'dyougo

Halloweennight,afteryouleftmyparty?"

"I went home," he says, gazing at me intently. "When I saw the way Drina looked at you, well, I

thoughitbettertodistancemyself.OnlyIcouldn't.Itried.I'vebeentryingallalong.ButIjustcouldn'tdo
it.Ican'tstayawayfromyou."Heshakeshishead."Andnowyouknoweverything.ThoughIthinkit's
obviouswhyIcouldn'tbequitesoforthcomingatthetime."

Ishrugandlookaway,notwillingtogiveinsoeasily,evenifit'strue.
"Oh,andmy'creepyroom'asyoucallit?Well,itjustsohappenstobemyhappyplace.Notunlike

thememoryyouholdofthoselastblissfulmomentsinthecarwithyourfamily."Andwhenhelooksatme,
Iavertmygaze,ashamedforhavingsaidit."ThoughIhavetoadmit,IhadagoodlaughwhenIrealized
youthoughtIwasabloodsucker."Hesmiles.

"Oh,wellexcuseme.Imeansincethereareimmortalsrunningaround,Ifigurewemayaswellbring

onthefaeries,wizards,werewolves,and—"Ishakemyhead."Imeanjeez,youtalkaboutallthislikeit's
normal!"

Hecloseshiseyesandsighs.Andwhenheopensthemagainhesays,"Formeitisnormal.Thisis

mylife.Andnowit'syourlifetoo,ifyouchooseit.It'snotasbadasyouthink,Ever,really."Helooksat
meforalongtime,andeventhoughpartofmestillwantstohatehimformakingmethisway,Ijustcan't.
AndwhenIfeelthatoverwhelminglywarm,tinglypull,Igazedownatthehandthathe'sholdingandsay,
"Stopit."

"Stopwhat?"Helooksatme,hiseyestired,theskinsurroundingthemtenseandpale.
"Stopmakingthatwarm,tingly,youknow.Juststopit!"Isay,mymindtornbetweenloveandhate.
"I'mnotmakingthat,Ever."Hiseyesareonmine.
"Ofcourseyouare!You'remakingithappenwithyour...whatever."Irollmyeyesandfoldmyarms

acrossmychest,wonderingwherewepossiblygofromhere.

"I'mnotmanifestingthat...Iswear.I'dneverusetrickerytoseduceyou."
"Oh,yeah,likethetulips?"
He smiles. "You have no idea what they mean, do you?" I press my lips and look away. "Flowers

havemeaning.There'snothingrandomaboutit."

I take a deep breath and rearrange the table with my mind, wishing I could rearrange my mind

instead.

"There'ssomuchtoteachyou,"hesays."Thoughit'snotallfunandgames.Youneedtotakecaution,

proceedwithcare."Hepausesandlooksatme,makingsurethatI'mlistening."Youhavetoguardagainst
themisuseofpower.Drina'sagoodexampleofthat.Andyoumustbediscreet—whichmeansyoucan't
sharethiswithanyone,andImeannoone,understand?"

Ijustshrug,thinking:Whatever.Knowinghe'sreadmythoughtswhenheshakeshisheadandleans

towardme.

"Ever,I'mserious,youcannottellasoul.Promiseme."Ilookathim.
Heraiseshisbrow,hishandsqueezingmine."Scout'shonor,"Imumble,lookingaway.
He lets go of my hand and relaxes, leaning back against the cushions when he says, "But in the

interestoffulldisclosureyouneedtoknowthatthere'sstillawayout.Youcanstillcrossover.Infact,
youcould'vediedrightthereinthecanyon,butinstead,youchosetostay."

"ButIwaspreparedtodie,Iwantedtodie."
"Youempoweredyourselfwithyourmemories.Youempoweredyourselfwithlove.It'slikeIsaid

earlierthoughtscreate.Andinyourcase,theycreatedhealingandstrength.Ifyoureallywantedtodieyou
would'vesimplygivenup.Onsomedeeperlevelyoumust'veknownthis."

AndjustwhenI'mabouttoaskhimwhyhewassneakingintomyroomwhileIslept,hesays,"It'snot

whatyouthink."

"Thenwhatwasit?"Iask,wonderingifIreallywanttoknow.
"Iwasthereto...observe.Iwassurprisedyoucouldseeme,Iwastransmuted,sotospeak."
Iwrapmyarmsaroundmykneesandbringthemclosetomychest.Everythinghejustsaidwentright

overmyhead,butIgetjustenoughofthegisttobesuitablycreepedout.

Heshrugs."Ever,Ifeelresponsibleforyou,and—"
"Andyouwantedtocheckoutthegoods?"Ilookathim,eyebrowsraised.
Buthejustlaughs."MayIremindyouofyourpenchantforflannelpajamas?"
Irollmyeyes."Soyoufeelresponsibleforme,like—likeadad?"Isay,laughingashecringes.
"No,notlikeadad.ButEver,Iwasonlyinyourroomthatonetime,thenightwesaweachotherat

theSt.Regis,iftherewereothertimes—"

"Drina." I cringe, picturing her creeping around my room, spying on me. "Are you sure she can't

comehere?"Iask,glancingaround.

He takes my hand and squeezes, wanting to reassure me when he says, "She doesn't even know it

exists.Doesn'tknowhowtogethere.Asfarasshe'sconcerned,yousimplyvanishedintothinair."

"Buthow'dyougethere?Didyoudieonce,likeme?"
Heshakeshishead."Therearetwotypesofalchemyphysical,whichIstumbleduponbecauseofmy

father,andspiritual,whichIstumbleduponwhenIsensedsomethingmore,somethingbigger,something
granderthanme.Istudiedandpracticedandworkedhardtogethere,evenlearnedTM."Hestopsand
looksatme."TranscendentalMeditationfromMaharishiMaheshYogi."Hesmiles.

"Um,ifyou'retryingtoimpressme,it'snotreallyworking,Ihavenoideawhatanyofthatmeans."
He shrugs. "Let's just say it took hundreds of years for me to translate it from the mental to the

physical. But you—from the moment you wandered into the field, you were granted a sort of backstage
pass,yourvisionsandtelepathyareby-productsofthat."

"God,nowonderyouhatehighschool,"Isay,wantingtochangethesubjecttosomethingconcrete,

somethingIcanactuallyunderstand."Imean,youmust'vefinishedlike,agazillion,bazillionyearsago,
right?" And when he winces, I realize his age is a serious sore spot, which is actually pretty funny,
consideringhowhechosetoliveforever."Imean,whybother?Whyevenenroll?"

"That'swhereyoucomein."Hesmiles.
"Oh,soyouseesomechickinbaggyjeansandahoodie,andyoujusthavetohavehersobad,you

decidetorepeathighschool,justtogettoher?"

"Soundsaboutright."Helaughs.
"Couldn't you have found another way to ingratiate yourself into my life? It just doesn't make any

sense."Ishakemyheadandrollmyeyes,gettingworkedupalloveragain,untilhetrailshisfingersdown
thesideofcheekandgazesintomyeyes.

"Loveneverdoes."
I swallow hard, feeling shy, euphoric, and unsure all at once. Then I clear my throat and say, "I

thought you said you suck at love." I narrow my eyes on his, my stomach like a cold bitter marble,
wonderingwhylcan'tjustbehappywhenthemostgorgeousguyontheplanetprofesseshislove.Why
doIinsistongoingallnegative?

"Iwashopingthistimewouldbedifferent"hewhispers.
Iturnaway,mybreathcominginshort,shallowgaspsasIsay,"Idon'tknowifI'mupforallthis.I

don'tknowwhattodo."

He pulls me tight against his chest, his arms wrapped around me, as he says, "There's no rush to

decide."

AndwhenIturn,hehasthisfarawaylookinhiseyes.
"What'sthematter?"Iask."Whyareyoulookingatmelikethat?"
"BecauseIsuckatgoodbyes,"hesays,attemptingasmilethatnevergetspasthismouth."See,now

there'stwothingsIsuckat—loveandgoodbyes."

"Maybethey'rerelated."Ipressmylipstogether,warningmyselfnottocry."Sowhereyougoing?"I

fighttokeepmyvoicecalmandneutral,eventhoughmyheartdoesn'twanttobeat,andmybreathdoesn't
wanttocome,andIfeellikeI'mdyinginside.

Heshrugsandlooksaway.
"Areyoucomingback?"
"Uptoyou."Thenhelooksatmeandsays,"Ever,doyoustillhateme?"
Ishakemyhead,butholdhisgaze.

"Doyouloveme?"
I turn my head and look away. Knowing I do, knowing I love him with every strand of hair, with

everyskincell,witheverydropofblood,thatI'mburstingwithlove,boilingover,butIjustcan'tbring
myselftosayit.Butthenagain,ifhecantrulyreadmymind,thenIshouldn'thavetosayit.Heshouldjust
know.

"It'salwaysnicerwhenit'sspoken,"hesays,tuckingmyhairbehindmyear,andpressinghislipsto

mycheek.

"Whenyoudodecide,aboutme,aboutbeingimmortal,justsaythewordandI'llbethere.Ihaveall

of eternity laid out before me, you'll find I'm quite patient." He smiles, then reaches into his pocket,
retrieving the silver, crystalencrusted, horse-bit bracelet he bought me at the track. The one I returned
whenIthrewitathimthatdayintheparkinglot."MayI?"hegestures.

Inod,mythroattooconstrictedtospeak,asheclosestheclasp,thencradlesmyfacebetweenthe

palmsofhishands.Brushingmybangstotheside,andpressinghislipstomyscar,infusingmewithallof
theloveandforgivenessIknowIdon'tdeserve.ButwhenItrytopullaway,heholdsmethatmuchtighter
andsays,"Youhavetoforgiveyourself,Ever.You'renotresponsibleforanyofit."

"Whatdoyouknow?"Ibitedownonmylip.
"Iknowyoublameyourselfforsomethingthat'snotyourfault.Iknowyouloveyourlittlesisterwith

allofyourheartandyouaskyourselfeverydayifyou'redoingtherightthingbyencouraginghervisits.I
knowyou,Ever.Iknoweverythingaboutyou."

I turn away, my face wet with tears I don't want him to see."None of that's true. You've got it all

wrong.I'mafreak,andbadthingshappentoeveryoneIcomenear,eventhoughI'mtheonewhodeserves
it."Ishakemyhead,knowingIdon'tdeservetobehappy,don'tdeservethiskindoflove.

Hepullsmeintohisarms,histouchcalmandsoothing,butunabletoerasethetruth."Ihavetogo,"he

finallywhispers.

"ButEver,ifyouwanttoloveme,ifyoutrulywanttobewithme,thenyou'llhavetoacceptwhatwe

are.I'llunderstandifyoucan't."

And then I kiss him, pressing into him, needing the feel of his lips against mine, basking in the

wonderful, warm glow of his love, the moment growing and swelling and expanding until it fills every
space,everynook,everycranny.

AndwhenIopenmyeyesandpullaway,I'mbackinmyroom,allalone.

ChapterThirty-Two

"Sowhathappened?Welookedeverywhereandneverfoundyou.Ithoughtyouwereonyourway?"
Irollover,turningmybacktothewindowandchidingmyselfforfailingtocraftanexcuse,which

putsmeintheawkwardpositionofwingingit."Iwas,butthen—well,Ikindofgotcramps,and—"

"Stoprightthere!"Milessays."Seriously,saynomore."
"Did I miss anything?" I ask, closing my eyes against the thoughts in his head, the words scrolling

beforemelikealatebreakingnewsribbononCNN:Ew!Disgusting!Whydotheyinsistontalkingabout
thatstuff?

"Other than the fact that Drina never showed? Nope, not a thing. I spent the first part of the night

helping Haven look for her, and the second part, trying to convince her she's better off without her. I
swear,you'dthinktheyweredating.Creepiestfriendshipever,Ever!Ha!Getit?"Helovesmakingpunof
myname.

Iclutchmyheadandcrawloutofbed,realizingit'sthefirstmorninginoveraweekthatI'vewoken

withoutahangover.AndeventhoughIknowthatqualifiesasaverygoodthing,thatdoesn'tchangethe
factthatIfeelworsethanever.

"Sowhat'sgoingon?CaretoindulgeinalittleFashionIslandChristmasshopping?"
"Can't.I'mstillgrounded,"Isay,pilferingthroughapileofsweatshirtsandpausingwhenIgettothe

oneDamenboughtmeonourDisneylanddate,beforeeverythingchanged,beforemylifewentfromvery
weirdtoextraordinarilyweird.

"Howmuchlonger?"
"No say." I drop the phone on my dresser and pull a lime green hoodie over my head, knowing it

doesn't really matter how long Sabine grounds me, if I want to go out, I'll go out, I'll just make sure to
return before she gets home. I mean, it's hard to contain a psychic. Though it does provide the perfect
excusetostayhome,laylow,andavoidallthatrandomenergy,whichistheonlyreasonI'mgoingalong
withit.

IpickupthephonejustintimetohearMilessay,"Okay,well,callmewhenyou'rereleased."
Istepintosomejeans,thensitdownatmydesk.Andeventhoughmyhead'spounding,myeyesare

burning, and my hands are shaking, I'm determined to get through the day without the aid of alcohol,
Damen,orillicittripstotheastralplanes.WishingI'dbeenmoreinsistent—demandedthatDamenshow
mehowtoshieldmyself.Imean,whydoesthesolutionalwaysseemtoflowbacktoAva?

Sabine tentatively knocks on my door and I turn as she steps into my room. Her face is pale and

pinched,hereyesrimmedwithred,andheraurahasgoneallspottyandgray.AndIcringewhenIrealize

it's all because of Jeff, and the fact that she finally uncovered his mountain of lies. Lies I could've
unveiled from the very beginning, sparing her all of this heartache, if only I hadn't put my needs before
hers.

"Ever,"shesays,pausingbymybed."I'vebeenthinking.SinceI'mnotreallycomfortablewiththis

wholegroundingbusiness,andsinceyou'realmostanadult,IfigureImayaswelltreatyoulikeoneso—"
Soyou'renolongergrounded,Ithink,finishingthesentenceinmyhead.ButwhenIrealizeshestillthinks
mytroublesareduetomygrief,myfaceburnswithshame."—you'renolongergrounded."Shesmiles,a
gestureofpeaceIdonotdeserve.

"ThoughIwaswonderingifyouchangedyourmindabouttalkingtosomeone,becauseIknowthis

therapistwho—"

Ishakemyheadbeforeshecanfinish,knowingshemeanswell,thoughrefusinganypartofit.And

whensheturnstoleave,Isurprisemyselfbysaying,"Hey,youwanttogooutfordinnertonight?"

Shehesitatesinthedoorway,clearlysurprisedbytheoffer.
"My treat." I smile encouragingly, having no idea how I'll possibly get through a night in a big,

crowdedrestaurant,butfiguringIcanusesomeofmyracetrackmoneytocoverthebill.

"Thatwouldbegreat,"shesays,tappingthewallwithherknucklesbeforeheadingintothehall."I'll

behomebyseven."

ThesecondIhearthefrontdoorcloseandthedeadboltclick,intoplace,Rileytapsonmyshoulder

andshouts,

"Ever!Ever!Canyouseeme?"
AndInearlyjumpoutofmyskin.
"Jeez, Riley, you scared the hell out of me! And why are you yelling?" I say, wondering why I'm

actingsocrabby,whenthetruthis,I'moverjoyedjusttoseeheragain.

Sheshakesherheadandplopsontomybed."Foryourinformation,I'vebeentryingtogetthroughto

youfordays.ThoughtyoulostyourabilitytoseemeandIwastotallystartingtofreak!"

"Ididlosemyability.ButonlybecauseIstarteddrinkingheavily.AndthenIgotexpelled."Ishake

myhead."Itwasamess."

"Iknow"Shenods,browsknitwithconcern."Iwaswatchingthewholetime,jumpingupanddown

infrontofyou,yellingandscreamingandclappingmyhands,anythingtotrytogetthroughtoyou,butyou
weretoowhackedtoseeme.Rememberthatonetime,whenthebottleflewoutofyourhand?"Shesmiles
andcurtsiesbeforeme."Thatwasme.Andyou'reluckyIdidn'tconkyouovertheheadwithitinstead.
So,whattheheckhappened?"

Ishrugandgazedownattheground,knowingIoweherananswer,avalidexplanationtoeaseher

concern, but not sure where to begin. "Well, it's like, all that random energy just became so
overwhelming,Icouldn'ttakeitanymore.AndwhenIrealizedhowalcoholshieldedmefromit,IguessI
justwantedtokeepthatgoodfeelinggoing,Ididn'twanttogobacktothewayIwasbefore."

"Andnow?"
"And now—" I hesitate, looking at her. "And now I'm right back where I started. Sober and

miserable."Ilaugh.

"Ever—"Shepauses,avertinghergazebeforelookingatme.
"Pleasedon'tgetmad,butIthinkyoushouldgoseeAva."AndwhenIstarttobalk,sheraisesher

handandsays,

"Justhearmeout,okay?Ireallythinkshecanhelpyou.InfactIknowshecanhelpyou.She'sbeen

tryingtohelpyoubutyouwon'tlether.Butnow,well,it'sprettyclearthatyou'rerunningoutofoptions.I
mean,youcaneitherstartdrinkingagain,hideinyourroomfortherestofyourlife,orgoseeAva.Pretty

muchano-brainer,don'tyouthink?"

I shake my head despite all the pounding, then I look at her and say, "Listen, I know you're all

enamoredwithher,andfine,whatever,that'syourchoice.Butshe'sgotnothingforme,sopleasejust—
justgiveitarestalready,wouldyou?"

Rileyshakesherhead."You'rewrong.Avacanhelpyou.Besides,whatcouldithurtforyoutogive

heracall?"

Isitthere,kickingmybedframeandstaringattheground,thinkingtheonlythingAva'severdonefor

me is make my life even worse than it is. And when I finally look at Riley again, I notice how she's
ditchedtheHalloweencostumesforthejeans,T-shirt,andConversesneakersofanormaltwelve-year-
oldkid,butshe'salsoturnedfilmy,translucent,andpracticallyseethrough.

"WhathappenedwithDamen?Thatdayyouwenttohishouse?Areyoustilltogether?"sheasks.
ButIdon'twanttotalkaboutDamen,Iwouldn'tevenknowwheretobegin.Besides,Iknowshe's

justtryingtoshifttheattentionfromherselfandherlucentappearance.

"What'sgoingon?"Iask,myvoicerising,frantic."Whyareyoufadinglikethat?"
Butshejustlooksatmeandshakesherhead."Idon'thavemuchtime."
"What do you mean—you don't have much time? You're coming back, right?" I shout, panicking as

shewavesgoodbyeanddisappearsfromsight,leavingAva'scrumpled-upcardinherplace.

ChapterThirty-Three

BeforeIcanevenshiftintopark,she'satthefrontdoor,waiting.
Eithershereallyispsychic,orshe'sbeenstandingtheresincewehungup.
ButwhenIseetheconcernonherface,Ifeelguiltyforthinkingit.
"Ever,welcome,"shesays,smilingassheushersmeup,thefrontstepsandintoanicelydecorated

livingroom.

Igazeallaround,takingintheframedphotos,theelaboratecoffeetablebooks,thematchingsofaand

chairs,amazedbyhownormalitis.

"You were expecting purple walls and crystal balls?" She laughs, motioning for me to follow her

into a bright sunny kitchen with beige stone floors, stainless steel appliances, and a sunlit skylight
overhead."I'llmakeussometea,"shesays,settingthewatertoboilandofferingmeaseatatthetable.

Iwatchasshebusiesherself,placingcookiesontoaplate,andsteepingourtea,andwhenshetakes

theseatacrossfrommine,Ilookatherandsay."Um,sorryforactingsorudeand—everything."Ishrug,
cringingathowawkwardandinadequateIsound.

ButAvajustsmiles,andplacesherhandovermine,andthemomentshemakescontact,Ican'thelp

butfeelbetter."I'mjustgladyoucame,I'vebeensoworriedaboutyou."

Igazedownatthetable,myeyesfixedonthelimegreenplacemat,notknowingwheretobegin.But

sinceshe'sincharge,shehandlesitforme."HaveyouseenRiley?"sheasks,hereyesonmine.

AndIcan'tbelieveshechosetostartthere."Yes,"Ifinallysay."Andforyourinformation,she'snot

lookingsogood."Ipressmylipstogetherandavertmygaze,convincedthatshe'ssomehowresponsible.

ButAvajustlaughs—laughs!"Trustme,she'sfine."Shenods,takingasipofhertea.
"Trust your—" I gape, shaking my head. Watching her sip her tea and nibble at her cookie in that

serenecalmwaythatreallysetsmeonedge."WhyshouldI?You'retheonewhobrainwashedher!You're
theonewhoconvincedhertostayaway!"Ishout,wishingIhadn'tevencomehere.Whatahugecolossal
mistake!

"Ever,Iknowyou'reupset,andIknowhowmuchyoumissher,butdoyouhaveanyideawhatshe's

sacrificedinordertobewithyou?"

I gaze out her window, my eyes grazing over the fountain, the plants, the small statue of Buddha,

bracingmyselfforareallystupidanswer.

"Eternity."
Irollmyeyes."Please,allshe'sgotistime."
"I'mreferringtosomethingmore."

"Yeah,likewhat?"Iask,thinkingIshouldjustsetthecookiedownandgetthehelloutofthere.Ava's

anutbag,aphony,andshetalkswithsuchauthorityaboutthemostoutrageousthings.

"Riley'sbeingherewithyoumeansshecan'tbewiththem."
"Them?"
"YourparentsandButtercup."Shenods,tracingherfingeralongtherimofhercupwhilelookingat

me.

"How'dyouknowabout—"
"Please,Ithoughtwewerepastthis?"shesays,hereyesrightonmine.
"This is ridiculous," I mumble, averting my gaze, wondering what Riley could ever see in such a

person.

"Isit?"Shebrushesherauburnhairfromherface,revealingaforeheadthat'sunlinedandsmooth,

freeofallworry.

"Fine.I'llbite.Ifyouknowsomuch,thentellme,justwheredoyouthinkRileyiswhenshe'snot

withme?"Iask,myeyesmeetinghers.Thinking:Thisoughttobegood.

"Wandering."Sheliftshercuptoherlipsandtakesanothersip.
"Wandering?Oh,okay."Ilaugh."Likeyouwouldknow"
"Shehasnootherchoicenowthatshe'schosentobewithyou."
Igazeoutthewindow,mybreathfeelinghot,abbreviated,tellingmyselfthere'snowaythisistrue.
"Rileydidn'tcrossthebridge."
"You'rewrong.Isawher."Iglare."Shewavedgoodbyeandeverything,theyallwavedgoodbye.I

shouldknow,Iwasthere."

"Ever,I'venodoubtwhatyousaw,butwhatImeanttosaywas,Rileydidn'tmakeittotheotherside.

Shestoppedhalfwayandranbacktofindyou."

"Sorry, but you're wrong," I tell her. "That's not at all true." My heart pounding in my chest as I

remember that very last moment, the smiles, the waves, and then—and then nothing they disappeared,
whileIfoughtandbeggedandpleadedtostay.

Theyweretaken,whileIremained.Andit'sentirelymyfault.Itshould'vebeenme.Everybadthing

canbetracedbacktome.

"Rileyturnedbackattheverylastsecond,"shecontinues.
"Whennoonewaslooking,andyourparentsandButtercuphadalreadycrossed.Shetoldme,Ever,

we'vebeenthroughitmanytimes.Yourparentsmovedon,youcamebacktolife,andRileygotstuck,left
behind.Andnowshespendshertimewanderingbetweenvisitstoyou,me,oldneighborsandfriends,and
afewnaughtycelebrities."Shesmiles.

"Youknowaboutthat?"Ilookather,eyeswide.
Shenods."It'sonlynatural,thoughmostearthboundentitiesboreofitprettyquickly."
"Earthboundwhat?"
"Entities, spirits, ghosts, it's all the same. Though it's quite different from those who've crossed

over."

"Soyou'resayingRileyisstuck?"
Shenods."Youhavetoconvincehertogo."
I shake my head, thinking: It's hardly up to me. "She's already gone. She barely comes around

anymore,"Imumble,glaringatherlikeshe'sresponsible,butthat'sonlybecausesheis.

"Youhavetogiveheryourblessing.Youhavetoletherknowit'sokay."
"Listen," I say, tired of this discussion, of Ava butting into my business, telling me how to run my

life."Icamehereforhelp,nottolistentothis.IfRileywantstostickaround,thenfine,that'sherbusiness.

Justbecauseshe'stwelvedoesn'tmeanIcantellherwhattodo.She'sprettystubbornyouknow?"

"Hmmm,wonderwhereshegetsit?"Avasays,sippingherteaandgazingatme.Buteventhoughshe

smiles,triestomakelikeit'sajoke,Ijustlookatherandsay,"Ifyou'vechangedyourmindabouthelping
me,thenjustsayso."Irisefrommyseat,myeyesteary,mybodypanicky,myheadpounding,yetfully
preparedtoleaveifIhaveto.Rememberingwhatmydadtaughtmeaboutthekeyto

negotiatingthatyouhavetobewillingtowalkawaynomatterwhat.
Shelooksatmeforamoment,thenmotionsformetosit.
"Asyouwish."Shesighs."Here'showyoudoit."
BythetimeAvawalksmeoutside,I'msurprisedtoseethatit'salreadydark.IguessIspentmore

timeintherethanIrealized,goingthroughastep-by-stepmeditation,learninghowtogroundmyselfand
createmyownpsychicshield.Buteventhoughthingsdidn'tstartoffsowell,especiallyallthatstuffabout
Riley,I'mstillgladIcame.It'sthefirsttimeI'vefeltcompletelynormal,withoutthecrutchofalcoholor
Damen,inaverylongtime.

Ithankheragain,andheadformycar,andjustasI'mabouttoclimbin,Avalooksatmeandsays,

"Ever?"

I gaze at her, seeing her framed only by the soft yellow light of her porch now that her aura is no

longervisible.

"Ireallywishyou'dletmeshowyouhowtoundotheshield.Youmightbesurprisedandfindthat

youmissit,"shecoaxes.

Butwe'vealreadybeenthroughthis,morethanonce.Besides,I'vemademydecisionandthere'sno

goingback.I'msayinghellotoanormallife,andgoodbyetoimmortality,Damen,Summerland,psychic
phenomenon,andeverythingelsethatgoeswithit.Eversincetheaccident,allIwantedwastobenormal
again.AndnowthatIam,Iplantoembraceit.

Ishakemyheadandstickmykeyintheignition,lookingupagainwhenshesays,"Ever,pleasethink

aboutwhatIsaid.You'vegotitallwrong.You'vesaidgoodbyetothewrongperson."

"What're you talking about?" I ask, just wanting to get home, so I can start enjoying my life once

again.

Butshejustsmiles."IthinkyouknowwhatImean."
Nolongergroundedandreleasedofallthatpsychicbaggage,Ispendthenextfewdayshangingwith

MilesandHaven,meetingforcoffee,goingshopping,seeingmovies,trollingarounddowntown,watching
his rehearsals, thrilled to have my life back to normal again. And on Christmas morning, when Riley
appears,I'mrelievedIcanstillseeher.

"Hey,waitup!"shesays,blockingthedoorjustasI'mabouttoheaddownthestairs.
"No way are you opening your presents without me!" And when she smiles, she's so radiant and

clearsheappearsalmostsolid,nothingflimsy,filmy,ortranslucentabouther.

"Iknowwhatyou'regetting!"Shegrins."Wantahint?"
Ishakemyheadandlaugh."Absolutelynot!Ilovenotknowingforachange,"Isay,smilingasshe

walksovertothemiddleofmyroomandexecutesaperfectseriesofcartwheels.

"Speakingofsurprises."Shegiggles."JeffboughtSabinearing!Canyoubelieveit?Hemovedout

ofhismom'shouse,gothisownplace,andisbegginghertocomebackandstartover!"

"Serious?"Isay,takinginherfadedjeansandlayeredtees,gladtoseeshe'sdonewiththecostumes

andnolongercopyingme.

Shenods."ButSabinewillsenditrightback.Imean,atleastfromwhatIcantell.It'snotlikeshe's

actuallyreceivedtheringyet,soIguesswe'llwaitandsee.Still,peoplerarelysurpriseyou,youknow?"

"Stillspyingoncelebrities?"Iask,wonderingifshehasanydish.

Shemakesafaceandrollshereyes."Godno.Iwasbeingseriouslycorrupted.Besides,it'salways

thesameoldthing,shoppingbinges,foodbinges,drugbinges,followedbyrehab.Wash,rinse,andrepeat
yawn."

Ilaugh,wishingIcouldreachoutandhugherinstead.IwassoafraidI'dlosther.
"What'reyoulookingat?"sheasks,peeringatme.
"You."Ismile.
"And,I'msogladyou'rehere.AndthatIcanstillseeyou.IwasafraidI'dlostthatabilitywhenAva

showedmehowtomakethatshield."

Shesmiles."Tobehonest,youdid.Ireallyhadtorampupmyenergysoyoucouldseeme.Infact,

I'musingsomeofyours.Doyoufeeltired?"

Ishrug."Alittle,butthenagain,Ijustwokeup."Sheshakesherhead.
"Doesn'tmatter.It'sstillme."
"HeyRiley."Ilookather.'Areyoustill...visitingAva?"Iask,holdingmybreathasIwaitforthe

answer.

Sheshakesherhead."Nah.I'moverthattoo.Nowcomeon,Icannotwaittoseeyourfacewhenyou

unwrapyournewiPhone!Oops!"Shelaughs,placingherhandoverhermouthasshebacksrightthrough
theclosedbedroomdoor.

"You'rereallystaying?"Iwhisper,makingmyexitthetraditionalway."Youdon'thavetoleave,or

besomewhereelse?"

Sheclimbsontopofthebanisterandslidesherwaydown,lookingbackatmeandsmilingwhenshe

says,"Nope,notanymore."

Sabinereturnedthering,IhadanewiPhone,Rileywasbacktovisitingeveryday,sometimeseven

accompanyingmetoschool,MilesstarteddatingoneoftheHairspraybackupdancers,Havendyedher
hairdarkbrown,sworeoffeverythinggoth,beganthepainfulprocessoflaseringoffhertattoo,burnedall
of her Drina-dresses, and replaced them with emo. New Year's came and went, marked by a small
gathering at my house that included sparkling cider for me (I was officially off the sauce), contraband
champagneformyfriends,andamidnightdipintheJacuzzi,whichwasprettytameasfarasNewYear's
partiesgo,butnotatallboring.StaciaandHonorstillglaredatme,prettymuchthesameasbefore,even
worse on the days when I wore something cute, Mr. Robins got a life (one without his daughter or his
wife),Ms.Machadostillcringedwhenshelookedatmyart,andbetweenitallwasDamen.

Like caulk around a tile, like binding in a book, he filled all of my blank empty spaces and held

everything together, kept it all contained. Through every pop quiz, every shampoo, every meal, every
movie,everysong,everydipintheJacuzzi,Iheldhiminmymind,comfortedjustbyknowinghewasout
theresomewhere—eventhoughI'ddecidedagainsthim.

ByValentine'sDay,MilesandHavenareinlove—thoughnotwitheachother.Andeventhoughwe

sit together at lunch, I may as well have been on my own. They were too busy hovering over their
Sidekickstonoticemyexistence,whilemyiPhonesatbesideme,silentandignored.

"Omigod, this is hilarious! You can't believe how brilliant he is!" Miles says, for the gazillionth

time,gazingupfromhistext,hisfaceflushedwithlaughter,ashethinksoftheperfectreply.

"Omigod, Josh just gifted me like, a ton of songs! I am so not worthy," Haven mumbles, thumbs

tappingaresponse.

AndeventhoughI'mhappyforthem,happythatthey'rehappyandallthat,mymindisonsixth-period

art, and I'm wondering if I should ditch. Because here at Bay View High, today is not only Valentine's
Day,it'salsoSecretHeartDay.Whichmeansthatthosebig,red,heart-shapedlollipops,theoneswiththe
littlepinklovenotesthey'vebeenpushingallweek,arefinallydistributed.AndwhileMilesandHaven

are fully expecting to receive theirs even though their boyfriends don't go here, I'm just hoping to get
throughtheday,somewhatsane,andmostlyunscathed.

AndeventhoughIfullyadmitthatditchingtheiPodhoodie-darksunglassescombohasallowedfora

considerableamountofrenewedmaleinterest,it'snotlikeI'minterestedinanyofthem.Becausethetruth
is,there'snotoneguyinthisschool(onthisplanet!),whocouldevercomparetoDamen.Noone.Nada.
Justnotpossible.Andit'snotlikeI'minahurrytolowermystandards.

ButbythetimetheSixth-periodbellrings,IknowIcan'tditch.Myditchingdays,likemydrinking

days,areprettymuchover.SoIsuckitupandheadtoclass,immersedinmylatest,illfatedassignment—
tomimiconeoftheisms.AndIhappenedtochoosecubism-makingthemistakeofthinkingitwouldbe
easy.Butit'snot.Infact,it'sfarfromit.

And when I sense someone standing behind me, I turn and say, "Yeah?" Peering at the lollipop he

holdsinhishand,thenfocusingbackonmywork,assumingit'sacaseofmistakenidentity.Butwhenhe
tapsmeagain,thistimeIdon'tbotherlooking,Ijustshakemyheadandsay,"Sorry,wronggirl."

He mumbles something under his breath, then clears his throat and says, "You're that Ever chick,

right?"

Inod.
"Thentakeitalready."Heshakeshishead."Igottagetthroughthisentireboxbeforethebellrings."
Hetossesmethelollipopandmakesforthedoor,andIsetdownmycharcoal,flipthecardopen,

andread:

Thinkingofyoualways.Damen

ChapterThirty-Four

Iracethroughthedoor,anxioustogetupstairssoIcanshowRileymylollipopvalentine,theonethat

madethesunshine,thebirdssing,andturnedmywholedayaround,eventhoughIrefusetohaveanything
todowiththesender.

ButwhenIseehersittingaloneonthecouch,secondsbeforesheturnsandseesme,somethingabout

the way she looks, so small and alone, reminds me of what Ava said—that I've said good bye to the
wrongperson.Andtheairrushesrightoutofme.

"Hey,"shesays,grinningatme."Youcan'tbelievewhatIjustsawonOprah.There'sthisdogwho's

missing his two front legs, and yet he can still—" I drop my bag on the floor and sit down beside her,
grabbingtheremoteandpushingmute.

"What'sup?"shesays,scowlingatmeforsilencingOprah.
"Whatareyoudoinghere?"Iask.
"Um,hangingonthecouch,waitingforyoutocomehome..."Shecrosseshereyesandsticksouther

tongue."Duh."

"No,Imean,whyareyouhere?Whyaren'tyou—someplaceelse?"
ShetwistshermouthtothesideandturnsbacktotheTV,herbodystiff,faceimmobile,preferringa

silentOprahtome.

"Why aren't you with Mom and Dad and Buttercup?" I ask, watching as her bottom lip starts to

quiver,atfirstonlyslightly,butsoon,afull-blowntremble,makingmefeelsoawful,Ihavetoforcethe
words to continue. "Riley." I pause, swallowing hard. "Riley, I don't think you should come here
anymore."

"You'reevictingme?"Shespringstoherfeet,eyeswidewithoutrage.
"No,It'snothinglikethat,Ijust—"
"Youcan'tstopmefromvisiting,Ever!IcandoanythingIwant!Anything!Andthere'snothingyou

candoaboutit!"shesays,shakingherheadandpacingtheroom.

"I'mawareofthat."Inod."ButIdon'tthinkIshouldencourageyoueither."
Shecrossesherarmsandmashesherlipstogether,thenplopsbackdownonthecouch,kickingher

legbackandforthlikeshedoeswhenshe'smad,upset,frustrated,orallthree.

"It'sjust,well,forawhilethereitseemedlikeyouwerebusywithsomethingelse,somewhereelse,

andyouseemedperfectlyhappyandokaywithit.Butnowit'slikeyou'rehereallthetimeagainandI'm
wonderingifit'sbecauseofme.BecauseeventhoughIcan'tbearthethoughtofnothavingyouaround,it's
more important for you to be happy. And spying on neighbors and celebrities, watching Oprah, and

waitingforme,well,Idon'tthinkit'sthebestwaytogo."Istop,takingadeepbreath,wishingIdidn't
havetocontinue,butknowingIdo."Becauseeventhoughseeingyouistheundisputedbestpartofmyday,
Ican'thelpbutthinkthere'sanother—better—placeforyoutobe."ShestaresattheTVasIstareather,
sittinginsilenceuntilshefinallybreaksit.

"Foryourinformation,Iamhappy.I'mperfectlyfineandhappy,sothere."Sheshakesherheadand

rolls her eyes, then crosses her arms against her chest. "Sometimes I live here, and sometimes I live
somewhere else. In this place called Summerland, which is pretty dang awesome, in case you don't
rememberit."Shesneaksapeekatme.

Inod.Oh,Idefinitelyrememberit.
Sheleansbackagainstthecushionsandcrossesherlegs.
"So,bestofbothworlds,right?What'stheproblem?"
Ipressmylipsandlookather,refusingtobeswayedbyherarguments,trustingthatI'mdoingthe

rightthing,theonlything."Theproblemis,Ithinkthere'ssomeplaceevenbetter.SomeplacewhereMom
andDadandButtercuparewaitingforyou—"

"Listen,Ever."Shecutsmeoff."IknowyouthinkI'mherebecauseIwantedtobethirteenandsince

thatdidn'thappenI'mlivingvicariouslythroughyou.Andyeah,maybethat'spartlytrue,butdidyouever
stop and think that maybe I'm here because I can't bear to leave you either?" She looks at me, her eyes
blinkingrapidly,butwhenIstarttospeak,sheholdsupherhandandcontinues."AtfirstIwasfollowing
them,because,well,they'retheparentsandIthoughtIwassupposedto,butthenIsawhowyoustayed
back,andIwenttofindyou,butbythetimeIgotthere,youwerealreadygone,Icouldn'tfindthebridge
again,andthen,well,Igotstuck.ButthenImetsomepeoplewho'vebeenthereforyears,well,theearth
versionofyears,andtheyshowedmearoundand—"

"Riley—"Istart,butshecutsmerightoff.
"Andjustsoyouknow,IhaveseenMomandDadandButtercup,andthey'refine.Actually,they're

morethanfine,they'rehappy.Theyjustwishyou'dstopfeelingsoguiltyallthetime.Theycanseeyou.
Youknowthat,right?Youjustcan'tseethem.Youcan'tseetheoneswhocrossedthebridge,youcanonly
seetheoneslikeme."

ButIdon'tcareaboutthedetailsofwhoIcanandcan'tsee.I'mstillstuckonthatpartaboutthem

wantingmetostopfeelingsoguilty,eventhoughIknowthey'rejustbeingallniceandparental,tryingto
easemyguilt.Becausethetruthis,thecrashismyfault.IfIhadn'tmademydadturnbacksoIcouldgo
getthatstupidPineconeLake

CheerleadingCampsweatshirtI'dforgotten,weneverwould'vebeeninthatspot,onthatroad,atthe

exactsametimethatsomestupidconfuseddeerranrightinfrontofourcar,forcingmydadtoswerve,fly
downtheravine,crashintothetree,andkilleveryonebutme.

Myfault.
Allofit.
Entirelymine.
ButRileyjustshakesherheadandsays,"Ifit'sanyone'sfault,thenit'sDad'sfault,becauseeveryone

knowsyou'renotsupposedtoswervewhenananimaldartsinfrontofyourcar.You'resupposedtojust
hititandkeepgoing.ButyouandIbothknowhecouldn'tbeartodothat,sohetriedtosaveusallbut
endedupsparingthedeer.Butthenagain,maybeit'sthedeer'sfault.Imean,hehadnobusinessbeingon
theroadwhenhehasaperfectlygoodforesttolivein.Orperhapsit'stheguardrail'sfaultfornotbeing
stronger,firmer,madeoftougherstuff.Ormaybeit'sthecarcompany'sfaultforfaultysteeringandcrappy
brakes.Ormaybe—"Shestopsandlooksatme."Thepointis,it'snobody'sfault.That'sjustthewayit
happened.That'sjustthewayitwassupposedtobe."

Ichokebackasob,wishingIcouldbelievethat,butIcan't.Iknowbetter.Iknowthetruth.
"Weallknowit,andacceptit.Sonowit'stimeforyoutoknowitandacceptittoo.Apparentlyit

justwasn'tyourtime."

Butitwasmytime.Damencheated,andIwentalongfortheride!IswallowhardandstareattheTV.

Oprah is over and Dr. Phil has taken her place—one shiny baldhead and a very large mouth that never
stopsmoving.

"RememberwhenIwaslookingsofilmy?That'sbecauseIwasgettingreadytocrossover.Every

dayIcreptcloserandclosertotheothersideofthebridge.ButjustwhenIdecidedtogoalltheway,
well,that'swhenitseemedlikeyouneededmemost.AndIjustcouldn'tbeartoleaveyou—Istillcan't
beartoleaveyou,"shesays.

ButeventhoughIreallywanthertostay,I'vealreadyrobbedherofonelife.Iwon'trobherofthe

afterlifetoo.

"Riley, it's time for you to go," I say, whispering so softly part of me is hoping she didn't actually

hear it. But once it's out, I know it's the right thing to do, so I say it again, louder this time, the words
ringingwithresonance,conviction."Ithinkyoushouldgo,"Irepeat,hardlybelievingmyownears.

Shegetsupfromthecouch,hereyeswideandsad,hercheeksshiningwithcrystallinetears.
AndIswallowhardasIsay,"Youhavenoideahowmuchyou'vehelpedme.Idon'tknowwhatI

would'vedonewithoutyou.You'retheonlyreasonIgotupeachdayandputonefootinfrontoftheother.
ButI'mbetternow,andit'stimeforyou—"Istop,chokingonmyownwords,unabletocontinue.

"Momsaidyou'dsendmebackeventually."Shesmiles.Ilookather,wonderingwhatthatmeans.
"Shesaid,'somedayyoursisterwillfinallygrowupanddotherightthing.'"
And the moment she says it, we both burst out laughing. Laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

Laughingatourmom'spenchantforsaying,"Somedayyou'llgrowupand—fillintheblank"Laughingto
relievesomeofthetensionandpainofsayinggoodbye.Laughingbecauseitfeelssodamngoodtodoso.
Andwhenthelaughterdiesdown,Ilookatherandsay,"You'llstillcheckinandsayhi,right?"

Sheshakesherheadandlooksaway."Idoubtyou'llbeabletoseeme,sinceyoucan'tseeMomand

Dad."

"WhataboutSummerland?CanIseeyouthere?"Iask,thinkingIcangobacktoAva,havehershow

mehowtoremovetheshield,butonlytovisitRileyinSummerland,notforanythingelse.

Sheshrugs."I'mnotsure.ButI'lldomybesttosendsomekindofsign,somethingsoyou'llknowI'm

okay,somethingspecificallyfromme."

"Likewhat?"Iask,panickedtoseeheralreadyfading.Ididn'texpectittohappensoquickly."And

howwillIknow?HowcanIbesureit'sfromyou?"

"Trustme,you'llknow"Shesmiles,wavinggoodbyeasshefades.

ChapterThirty-Five

ThemomentRileyisgone,Ibreakdownandcry,knowingIdidtherightthing,butstillwishingit

didn'thavetohurtsodamnmuch.Istaylikethatforawhile,curleduponthecouch,mybodyfoldedinto
asmalltightball,rememberingeverythingshesaidabouttheaccident,andhowitwasn'treallymyfault.
ButeventhoughIwishIcouldbelieveit,Iknowit'snottrue.Fourliveswereendedthatday,andit'sall
becauseofme.Allbecauseofastupid,powderblue,cheerleadingcampsweatshirt.

"I'llgetyouanotherone,"mydadsaid,gazingintotherearviewmirror;hiseyesmeetingmine,two

matchingsetsofidenticalblues."IfIturnaroundnow,we'llhittraffic."

"Butit'smyfavorite,"Iwhined."TheoneIgotatcheercamp.Youcan'tbuyitinastore."Ipouted,

knowingIwasmeresecondsfromgettingmyway.

"Youreallywantitthatbad?"
Inodded,smilingasheshookhishead,tookadeepbreath,andturnedthecararound,meetingmy

gaze in the rearview mirror the same moment the deer ran onto the road. I wanted to believe Riley, to
retrainmybraintothisnewwayofthinking.ButknowingthetruthprettymuchguaranteedIneverwould.
AndasIwipethetearsfrommyface,IrememberAva'swords.ThinkingifRileywastherightpersonto
saygoodbyeto,thenDamenmustbethewrongone.IreachforthelollipopI'dplacedonthetableand
gaspwhenIseeit'smorphedintoatulip.

Abig,huge,shiny,redtulip.
Then I race for my room, pull my laptop onto my bed, and run a search on flower meanings,

skimmingdownthepageuntilIread:

Intheeighteenhundreds,peopleoftencommunicatedtheirintentionsthroughtheflowerstheysent,as

specificflowersheldspecificmeanings.Hereareafewofthemoretraditionalones:

Iscrolldownthealphabeticallist,myeyesscanningfortulipsandholdingmybreathasIread.
RedTulips—UndyingLove
Then,justforfun,IlookupwhiterosebudsandlaughoutloudwhenIread:
Whiterosebuds—Theheartthatknowsnolove,heartignorantoflove.
AndIknowhewastestingme.Thewholeentiretime.Holdingthishugelife-changingsecretwith

absolutelynoideahowtotellme,notknowingifI'dacceptit,rejectit,orturnhimaway.

FlirtingwithStaciajusttogetareaction,sohecouldeavesdroponmythoughtsandseeifIcared.

AndI'dbecomesoadeptatlyingtomyself,denyingmyfeelingsaboutpracticallyeverything,Iendedup
confusingusboth.

AndwhileIcertainlydon'tcondonewhathedid,Ihavetoadmitthatitworked.Andnow,allIhave

todotoseehimagainisjustsaythewordsoutloudandhe'llmanifestrightherebeforeme.Becausethe
truthis,Idolovehim.I'velovedhimwithoutceasing.I'velovedhimsincethatveryfirstday.Ilovedhim
evenwhenIsworethatIdidn't.Ican'thelpit,Ijustdo.AndeventhoughI'mnotsosureaboutthiswhole
immortalbusiness,Summerlandwasprettycool.Besides,ifRileyisright,ifthereissuchathingasfate
anddestiny;thenmaybeitappliestothistoo?

I shut my eyes and imagine the feel of Damen's warm wonderful body curled around mine, the

whisperofhissoftsweetlipsonmyear,myneck,mycheek,thewayhismouthfeelswhenitpartsagainst
mine—Iholdontothatimage,thefeelofourperfectlove,ourperfectkiss,asIwhisperthewordsI've
heldallthistime,theonesIwastooscaredtospeak,theonesthatwillbringhimbacktome.

Isaythemoverandoveragain,myvoicegainingstrengthastheyfilluptheroom.
ButwhenIopenmyeyes,I'malone.AndIknowIwaitedtoolong.

ChapterThirty-Six

Iheaddownstairs,insearchofsomeicecream,knowingarichandcreamyHaagenDazsBand-Aid

can'tpossiblyhealmybrokenheart,thoughitjustmighthelpsootheit.Andafterretrievingaquartfrom
thefreezer,Icradleitinmyarmsandreachforaspoon,thenthewholethingcrashestothegroundwhenI
hearavoicesay:

"Sotouching,Ever.Sovery,verytouching."
I bend over, squeezing the toes that got nailed by a quart of Vanilla Swiss Almond, as I gape at a

perfectly turned-out Drina legs crossed, hands folded, a prim and proper lady, seated right there at my
breakfastbar.

"SocutehowyoucalledoutforDamenafterconjuringthatchastelittlelovesceneinyourhead."She

laughs, her eyes grazing over me. "Ah, yes, I can still see inside your head. Your little psychic shield?
Thinner than the Shroud of Turin, I'm afraid. Anyway, as far as you and Damen and your happily ever
after,andafter,andafter?"Sheshakesherhead."Well,youknowIcan'tletthathappen.Asitturnsout,
mylife'sworkhasbeendestroyingyou,andlittledoyouknow,Istillcan."

Igazeather,concentratingonmybreath,keepingitslowandsteady,whileItrytodearmymindof

allincriminatingthought,knowingshe'llonlyuseitagainstme.Butthethingis,tryingtodearyourmindis
aboutaseffectiveastellingsomeonetonotthinkaboutelephants—fromthatmomentonthat'sallthey'll
thinkabout.

"Elephants?Really?"Shegroans,alowevilsoundthatvibratestheroom."MyGod,whatdoeshe

seeinyou?"Hereyesrakeoverme,filledwithdisdain."Certainlynotyourintellectorwit,sincewe've
yet to see any evidence it exists. And your idea of a love scene? So Disney, so Family Channel, so
dreadfully boring. Really, Ever, may I remind you that Damen's been around for hundreds of years,
includingthefree-lovesixties?"Sheshakesherheadatme.

"If you're looking for Damen, he's not here," I finally say, my voice scratchy, hoarse, like it hasn't

beenusedfordays.

Sheliftsherbrow."Trustme,IknowwhereDamenis.IalwaysknowwhereDamenis.It'swhatI

do."

"So you're a stalker." I press my lips together, knowing I shouldn't antagonize her, but hey, I have

nothingtolose.Eitherway,she'sheretokillme.

She twists her lips and holds up her hand, inspecting her perfectly manicured nails. "Hardly," she

mumbles.

"Well,ifthat'showyou'vechosentospendthelastthreehundredyears,thensomemightsay—"

"Morelikesixhundred,youdreadfullittletroll,sixhundredyears."Shelooksmeoverandscowls.
Sixhundredyears?Issheserious?
Sherollshereyesandstands.'Youmortals,sodull,sostupid,sopredictable,soordinary.Andyet,

despiteallyourobviousdefects,youalwaysseemtoinspireDamentofeedthehungry,servemankind,
fightpoverty,savethewhales,stoplittering,recycle,meditateforpeace,justsaynotodrugs,alcohol,big
spending, and just about everything else that's worthwhile—one horribly boring altruistic pursuit after
another. And for what? Do you ever learn? Hello! Global warming! Apparently not. And yet, and yet,
somehow

DamenandIalwaysseemtogetthroughit,thoughitcantakefartoolongtodeprogramhim,return

him to the lusty; hedonistic, greedy, indulgent Damen I know and love. Though believe me, this is just
anotherlittledetour,andbeforeyouknowit,we'llbebackontopoftheworldagain."

She moves toward me, her smile growing wider with each approaching step, slinking around the

largegranitecounterlikeaSiamesecat."Quitefrankly,Ever,Ican'timaginewhatitisthatyouseeinhim.
And I don't mean what every other female, and let's face it, most males, see in him. No, I mean, it's
becauseofDamenthatyoualwaysseemtosuffer.It'sbecauseofDamenthatyou'regoingthroughallof
thisnow.Ifonlyyouhadn'tlivedthroughthatdamnaccident."Sheshakesherhead."Imean,justwhenI
thoughtitwassafetoleave,justwhenIwassureyouweredead,thenextthingIknowDamen'smovedto
Californiabecause,surprise,hebroughtyouback!"Sheshakesherheadagain."You'dthinkafterallof
thesehundredsofyears,I'dhavealittlemorepatience.Butthen,youreallydoboreme,andclearlythat's
notmyfault."

ShelooksatmebutIrefusetorespond,I'mstildecipheringherwords—Drinacausedtheaccident?
Shelooksatmeandrollshereyes."Yes,Icausedtheaccident.Whymusteverythingbesospelled

outforyou?"Sheshakesherhead."ItwasIwhospookedthedeerthatraninfrontofyourcar.ItwasI
who knew your father was a sappy, kindhearted fool who'd gladly risk his family's life to save a deer.
Mortalsarealwayssopredictable.Especiallytheearnestoneswhotrytodogood."Shelaughs."Though,
intheend,itwasalmosttooeasytobeanyfun.Butmakenomistake,Ever,thistimeDamen'snothereto
saveyou,andIwillstickaroundtogetthejobdone."

Iscantheroom,searchingforsomesortofprotection,eyeingthekniferackontheothersideofthe

room,butknowingI'llnevergettoitintime.I'mnotfastlikeDamenandDrina.AtleastIdon'tthinkIam.
Andthere'snotimetofindout.

She sighs. "By all means, please, get the knife, see if I care." She shakes her head and checks her

diamondencrustedwatch.'I'dreallyliketogetstartedthough,ifyoudon'tmind.NormallyIliketotake
my time, have a little fun, but, today being Valentine's Day and all, well, I have plans to dine with my
sweetie,justassoonasI'veeliminatedyou."

Hereyesaredarkandhermouthistwisted,andforthebriefestmoment,alltheevilinsidesprings

righttothesurface.Butthenjustasquicklyit'sgoneagain,replacedbyabeautysobreathtaking,it'shard
nottostare.

"Youknow,beforeyoucamealong,inoneofyour...earlierincarnations,Iwashisonetruelove.But

thenyoushowedupandtriedtostealhimaway,andit'sbeenthesameoldcycleeversince."Sheslinks
forward,eachstepsilent,quick,untilshe'sstandingdirectlybeforeme,andI'vehadnotimetoreact."But
nowI'mtakinghimback.Andhealwayscomesback,Ever,beclearaboutthat."

Ireachforthebamboocuttingboard,thinkingIcanslamitoverherhead,butshelungesformeso

fastsheknocksmeoffbalanceandslamsmybodyintothefridge,theblowtomybackstealingmybreath
asIgaspandfumbleandfalltotheground.Hearingthethwonkofmyheadcrackingopenwhenitslams
againstthefloorasatrailofwarmbloodseepsfrommyskulltomymouth.

AndbeforeIcanmoveordoanythingtofightback,she'sontopofme,slashingatmyclothing,my

hair, my face, whispering into my ear, "Just give up, Ever. Just relax and let go. Go join your happy
family,they'reallwaitingtoseeyou.You'renotcutoutforthislife.Youhavenothinglefttolivefor.And
now'syourchancetoleaveit."

Imust'veblackedout,butonlyforamoment,becausewhenIopenmyeyes,she'sstillrightthereon

top of me, her face and hands stained with my blood as she croons and coaxes and whispers, trying to
convincemetoletgo,tojustletmyselfgo,onceandforall,tojustslipawayandbedonewithitall.

Buteventhoughthatmight'vebeentemptingbefore,it'snotanymore.Thisbitchkilledmyfamily,and

nowshe'sgonnapay.

Ishutmyeyes,determinedtogetbacktothatplace—allofusin.thecar,laughing,happy,sofullof

love, seeing it clearer now than ever before, now that it's no longer clouded by guilt, now that I'm no
longertoblame.

AndwhenIfeelmystrengthsurginginsidemeIliftherrightoffmeandthrowheracrosstheroom,

watchingasshefliesrightintothewall,herarmjuttingoutatanunnaturalangleasherbodytiltstothe
floor.

Shelooksatme,eyeswidewithshock,butsoonshe'supandlaughingasshedustsherselfoff.And

whenshelungesatme,Ithrowheroffagain,watchingasshesoarsacrossthekitchenandallthewayinto
theden,crashingthroughtheclosedfrenchdoorsandsendinganexplosionofbrokenshardsthroughthe
room.

"Quitethecrimesceneyou'recreating,"shesays,pluckingglassdaggersfromherarms,herlegs,her

face,thewoundsclosingupassoonasthey'recleared."Veryimpressive.Can'twaittoreadallaboutitin
tomorrow's paper." She smiles, and just like that, she's on me again, fully restored, determined to win.
"You'reinoveryourhead,"shewhispers."Andfrankly,yourpatheticshowofstrengthisgettingalittle
redundant.Seriously,Ever,you'reonelousyhostess.Nowonderyoudon'thaveanyfriends,isthishow
youtreatallyourguests?"

Ipushheroff,readytotossherthroughathousandwindowsifIhaveto.ButI'vebarelycompleted

thethoughtwhenI'msideswipedbyahorrible,sharp,squeezingpain.

WatchingasDrinastepstowardme,facepulledintoagrin,paralyzingmesothatIcan'tevenstop

her.

"That would be the old head in a vise with serrated jaws trick." she laughs. "Works every time.

Though,inallfairness,Ididtrytowarnyou.Youjustwouldn'tlisten.Butreally,Ever,it'syourchoice.I
canratchetupthepain—"Shenarrowshereyesasmybodyfoldsinagony,slumpingtowardtheflooras
mystomachswirlswithnausea."Or,youcanjustletyourselfgo.Niceandeasy.Yourchoice."

Itrytofocusonher,watchingasshemovestowardme,butmyvisionisdistorted,andmylimbsso

rubberyandweak,she'slikeafast-movingblurIknowIcan'tbeat.SoIclosemyeyesandthink:Ican't
letherwin.Ican'tletherwin.Notthistime.Notafterwhatshedidtomyfamily.

AndwhenIswingmyfisttowardher,mybodysofeeble,clumsy,anddefeated,I'msurprisedwhenit

landssquareinherchest,grazingthefrontofher,beforefallingaway.AndIstaggerback,devoidofall
breath,knowingitwasn'tnearlyenough,didn'tdoanygood.

Ishutmyeyesandcringe,waitingfortheend,andnowthatit'sinevitable,Ihopeitcomessoon.But

whenmyheadclearsandmystomachcalms,IopenthemagaintofindDrinastaggeringbacktowardthe
wall,clutchingherchest,andstaringaccusingly.

"Damen!"shewails,lookingrightpastme."Don'tletherdothistome,tous—"
Iturn,toseehimstandingbesideme,gazingatDrinaandshakinghishead."It'stoolate,"hesays,

takingmyhand,entwininghisfingerswithmine."It'stimeforyoutogo,Poverina."

"Don'tcallmethat!"shewails,heronceamazinggreeneyesnowblurredbyred."YouknowhowI

hatethat!"

"Iknow,"hesays,squeezingmyfingersassheshrivelsandagesthenfadesfromoursight,ablack

silkdressanddesignershoestheonlyevidencesheeverexisted.

"How—"IturntoDamen,searchingforanswers.
Buthejustsmiles,andsays,"It'sover.Absolutely,completely,eternallyover."Hepullsmeintohis

arms,coveringmyfaceinatrailofwarmwonderfulkisses,promising,"She'llneverbotherusagain."

"DidI—killher?"Iask,notquitesurehowIfeelaboutthat,despitewhatshedidtomyfamily,and

allthetimessheclaimedtohavekilledme.

Henods.
"But—how?Imean,ifshe'simmortal,thenwasn'tIsupposedtocutoffherhead?"
Heshakeshisheadandlaughs."Whatkindofbooksareyoureading?"Thenhisfacebecomesvery

serious when he says, "It doesn't work like that. There's no beheading, no wooden stakes, no silver
bullets, it all comes down to the simple fact that revenge weakens and love strengthens. Somehow you
managedtohitDrinarightinhermostvulnerablespot."

I squint, not quite understanding. "I hardly touched her," I say, remembering how my fist met her

chest,butjustbarely.

"Thefourthchakrawasyourtarget.Andyouhitthebull'seye."
"Huh?"
"The body has seven chakras. The fourth chakra, or heart chakra as it's sometimes called, is the

centerofunconditionallove,compassion,thehigherself,allofthethingsDrinawaslacking.Andthatleft
herdefenseless,weakened.Ever,herlackofloveiswhatkilledher."

"Butifshewassovulnerable,whydidn'tsheguardit,protectit?"
"She was unaware, deluded, led by her ego. Drina never realized how dark she'd become, how

resentful,howhateful,howpossessive—"

"Andifyouknewallthat,whydidn'tyoutellmebefore?"Heshrugs."ItwasjustatheoryIhad.I've

neverkilledanimmortal,soIwasn'tsureifitwouldwork.Untilnow."

"Youmeanthereareothers?Drina'snottheonlyone?"
Heopenshismouthasiftosaysomething,butthenclosesitfirmly.AndwhenIlookinhiseyesIsee

aflashof—regret,remorse?Butjustasquickly,it'sgone.

"Shesaidsomethingsaboutyou,andyourpast—"
"Ever,"hesays."Ever,lookatme."HetiltsmychinuntilIfinallydo."I'vebeenaroundalongtime

—"

"I'llsay,sixhundredyears!"
Hecringes."Giveortake.Thepointis,I'veseenafewthings,doneafewthings,andmylifehasn't

alwaysbeensogoodorsopure.Infact,mostofit'sbeenquitetheopposite."Istarttopullaway,notsure
if I'm ready to hear this, but he pulls me back to him and says, "Trust me, you're ready to hear this,
becausethetruthisI'mnotamurderer,I'malsonotevil.Ijust—"Hepauses."Ijustenjoyedatasteforthe
goodlife.Andyet,everytimeImetyou,Iwaswillingtothrowitallaway,justtobenearyou."

Iyankfree,thistimesuccessfully.Thinking:Ohjeez!Ohno!
Classiccaseofboylosinggirl,onlythistimeit'soverandoveragain,spanningthecenturies,each

timeendingbeforetheycandothedeed.Nowonderhe'sinterested,I'mtheonewhokeepsgettingaway!
I'm like a living, breathing, forbidden fruit! Does this mean I have to remain a virgin for eternity?
Disappeareveryfewyearsjusttokeephisinterest?Imean,nowthatwe'restuckwitheachotherforall
of eternity, the moment the deed is done it's just a matter of time before this particular train arrives in

BoringTownU.S.A.andhe'llbelookingtoenjoythe"goodlife"again.

"Stuckwithme?That'showyouseeit?Asthoughyou'llbestuckwithme,forallofeternity?"And

thewayhelooksatmeIcan'ttellifhe'samusedoroffended.

My cheeks burn, having temporarily forgotten that my thoughts are not at all private where he's

concerned."No,Iwasafraidyou'dfeelthatwayaboutme.Imean,it'sclassiclovestoryfodder—theone
whogotaway—againandagainandagain!Nowonderyou'veremainedsoentranced!

Ithadnothingtodowithme!You'vespentsixhundredyearstryingtogetinmypants!"
"Petticoats,pantaloons,trustme,pantsdidn'tcomeintofashionuntilmuch,muchlater."ButwhenI

don'tlaugh,hepullsmetohimandsays,"Ever,ithaseverythingtodowithyou.Andifyoudon'tmindmy
saying,it'sbeenmyexperiencethatthebestwaytodealwitheternityisbylivingitonedayatatime."

Hekissesme,butonlybriefly,beforeheshiftshisbodyandstartstopullaway,butIgrabholdofhis

hand,andpullhimbacktome."Don'tgo,"Isay,gazingathim."Pleasedon'teverleavemeagain."

"Noteventogetyousomewater?"Hesmiles.
"Notevenforwater,"Itellhim,myhandsexploringhisface,hisincrediblybeautifulface."I—"The

wordshaltinmythroat.

"Yes?"Hesmiles.
"Imissedyou,"Ifinallymanage.
"Andsoyoudid."Heleansin,pressinghislipstomyforehead,thenquicklypullingaway.
"What?"Isay,seeingthewayhe'slookingatme,hisgrinspreadwideandwarminghisface.ThenI

slidemyfingersundermybangs,andgaspwhenIrealizemyscar'sdisappeared.

"Forgivenessishealing."Hesmiles."Especiallyforgivingyourself."
Igazeathim,lookingrightintohiseyes,knowingthere'ssomethingmoretosay,butnotsureIcango

throughwithit.SoIclosemyeyesinstead,thinkingthatifhecanreadmymindthenIshouldn'thaveto
saythewordsoutloud.

Buthejustlaughs."It'salwaysbetterwhenit'sspoken."
"But I've already said it, that's why you came back, right? I thought you would've come sooner. I

meanitwould'vebeennicetohavehadsomehelp."

"Iheardyou.AndIwould'vecomeevensooner,butIneededtoknowyouweretrulyready,andnot

justlonelyaftersayinggoodbyetoRiley."

"Youknowaboutthat?"
Henods."Youdidtherightthing."
"So,youalmostletmedieinthere,becauseyouwantedtobesure?"
Heshakeshishead."Ineverwould'veletyoudie.Notthistime."
"AndDrina?"
"Iunderestimatedher,Ihadnoidea."
"Youcan'treadeachother'sthoughts?"
Hegazesatme,smoothinghisthumbagainstmycheek.
"Welearnedhowtocloakthemfromeachotherlongago."
"Willyoushowmehowtocloakmine?"
Hesmiles."IntimeI'llteachyoueverything,Ipromise.ButEver,youneedtoknowwhatallofthis

reallymeans. You'll neverbe with yourfamily again. You'll nevercross that bridge.You need to know
whatyou'regettingyourselfinto."Heholdsmychinandlooksinmyeyes.

"ButIcanalways,sortof,just—dropout—right?Youknow,giveup?Likeyousaid?"
Heshakeshishead."Itbecomesmuchharderonceyou'reingrained."
Ilookathim,knowingit'salottogiveup,butfiguringthere'sgottobesomewayaroundit.Riley

promisedmeasign,andI'lltakeitfromthere.Butinthemeantime,ifeternitystartstoday,thenthat'sthe
wayI'mgoingtoliveit.Forthisday,andthisdayonly.KnowingthatDamenwillalwaysbebymyside,I
mean,always,right?

Helooksatme,waiting."Iloveyou,"Iwhisper.
"AndIloveyou."Hesmiles,hislipsseekingmine."Alwayshave.Alwayswill."

Document Outline

Table of Contents
Aura Color Chart:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six

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