The Second Life of Everly Beck: The Tethered Soul Series Book 2

by Laura C. Reden

  The dean furrowed her eyebrows and I could tell her trust towards me was fading.

  “For a donation of course.” It was a Hail Mary. I had to try. I watched her expression change from one of annoyance to slight interest. I had to strike while the iron was hot. “Perhaps—”

  “Mr. Green, with all due respect, I don’t think you’re capable of a bribe bountiful enough to bend the rules. Now, if you don’t mind, I have quite a bit of work to do, and I’d prefer to get back to it. Thank you for coming in.” With that, she picked up her pen and began to work while I was still seated in her office.

  My mind raced in circles. Should I take the janitorial position? Would that get me closer to Beck? Should I donate the money I took from Clouse and forgo buying a home in Clover? Somehow all of my options were terrible. None managed to inch out above the others. I ran my hands through my hair and stood to make my exit. I walked slowly, giving myself the time to change my mind within the seconds I had left in the dean’s office. When I heard her voice again, I knew it was fate giving me a fighting chance.

  “Mr. Green?” The dean asked.

  A smile spread across my face and I spun on my heels to face her. “Yes, Dean?”

  “The tag is sticking out of your blazer collar.” The dean smiled as she watched my face heat. By the time the door had closed behind me, my mouth was parched, I had no security at Norton, and I was utterly humiliated. I reached behind my collar and ripped the tag off throwing it in the trash on my way past the counselor.

  By the time I reached the parking lot, I’d come up with a Plan B. I wasn’t proud of Plan B, but when push came to shove, I had no other choice. I’d show up on the days Beck went to class, and I’d pretend I had class too. I’d lie. Simply lie, until one day—and hopefully, that day was sooner than later—she would remember me. Our life. Our love. And I could be in her life beyond school. But until then, it looked like I had some acting to do. Luckily for me, I had practice.

  I must have played the exact moment the dean smiled at my embarrassment a hundred times before I arrived at the Clover Real Estate’s office of Tina McFay. Since I hadn’t just donated my savings to weasel my way into college, I would have enough for a down payment on a home. I wrapped my hand around the cold metal doorknob, and just as I pulled the door open, Tina just about fell out. She stumbled on her heels before standing tall and adjusting her clothing.

  “You must be Easton! So nice to meet you. Thank you for coming in today!”

  I shook her hand, which was petite and warm. She was attractive enough to be on a magazine cover. And if I had to choose which type of magazine, I’d have to say swim. Her pencil skirt hugged her curves, which resembled an hourglass figure. Her teeth were perfectly straight and perfectly white, and her hair was long and lustrous.

  “We have two houses to look at this afternoon. Let me just grab my notes and we can get a move on it.” Tina turned to grab her notes, and my eyes dropped slightly. I wondered how much her looks played into her job. Did she sell more houses because she was easy on the eyes?

  I took a deep breath and examined my surroundings. Her office could have been a spread in a magazine, but not from a swim edition—more like home decor. I gave my head a shake, dispelling my thoughts as I moved to the entryway table, on which sat a stunning bouquet of tulips and a bowl of etched wooden balls. Everything matched and flowed effortlessly. It was probably a language Beck understood, being in graphic design, but all I could do was appreciate it.

  “Do you stage the houses you sell?” I asked.

  “I do! Most of them need it!” Tina said as she shoved a notebook into her bag.

  “I like what you’ve done here.” I vaguely pointed to the shelves that were lined with photographs in heavy farmhouse framing.

  “Thank you! It’s a fun pastime. Are you ready?”

  “Yeah!” I clapped my hands and then followed Tina to her car. When I stepped inside her car, I was thankful that it was clean and odor-free. It was a simple task, but one that was unattainable by most.

  “So the first house we’re going to is the smaller one. It’s about twelve hundred square feet, but it has a nice location. It’s at the end of a cul-de-sac, which personally, I enjoy. And if you plan on having children, I just think it’s a safer option, as well.”

  I thought about it. Children. I’d never once seriously considered it. The first time I died, I was just a child myself. After I found out what I was, or more rather, who I was, I didn’t think it would be fair to have children. Now, after all of these years, I was positive I was incapable of having kids. The chances of a mishap would have happened by now, and no such thing had. I was sterile alright.

  “I’d love a family one day,” I said.

  Tina smiled a warm and endearing smile. “I would too.”

  My stomach dropped with unease. “I already have the engagement ring, so as soon as the time is right, I’m going to ask my girlfriend to marry me. I doubt she will want to wait long to have kids.” I made my stance clear as day. Tina’s eyes lost their sparkle. But the uneasiness in my stomach went away.

  We pulled up to the first house. Option A. It was indeed tiny—old too. Red brick peeked out from behind the overgrown weeds and covered the bottom portion of the house. An abandoned scooter rest against a tree. The driveway was long and skinny, and the windows needed replacement.

  “I know it’s not much on the outside, but if you can imagine a facelift, and some yard work, I think this would be a beautiful fixer-upper.” Tina framed the house with her hands. I nodded, unsure if I could see her vision.

  We stepped inside, and the stale smell of mildew escaped into the open air. I looked at Tina with a doubtful expression, but she charged forward with confidence.

  “This is the living room!” she said. I stared at the brown shag carpet, and my eyes flicked to various stains, which reminded me of the spots on a cow’s hide.

  It couldn’t have been more than ten steps into the home before Tina said, “And this is the kitchen,” in the same cheerful tone. Small was an understatement; we didn’t need to walk any further than the front door to see the kitchen, living room, and dining room. In fact, I could see the backyard from where I stood as well. Though larger than an apartment, this house felt smaller than a cardboard box. I followed Tina into each room, the tour lasting a full two minutes. When she finally stopped to examine my face, she agreed we should look at Option B.

  Once outside in the fresh evening air, I took a deep breath. Expanding my lungs as full as they could stretch. The smell of overgrown grass never smelled so clean. A part of me wanted to stop Tina right then and there and tell her that whatever the second house looked like, I’d take it, because it couldn’t be worse than this one. But in true Easton fashion . . . I was wrong.

  Option B was worse. The house was larger, which was nice, and the smell was at least tolerable. But it was . . . sinister. And if I had to guess, I’d say the house was haunted. As if the subtle constriction of my throat and the icy pockets of stale air weren’t enough to convince me, Tina had to disclose the multiple deaths that had taken place over the last few years in the house, and it was more than any one home should endure. I wondered what mysteries lay inside. No, I had enough on my mind; I didn’t need to lie awake at night and feel encapsulated by the darkness and evil that lived there. I’d rather spend my free time ripping out brown carpet and breathing in mold.

  To say I was disappointed with how my day turned out was an understatement. Although I found the perfect gift for Beck’s birthday, I had no job, no tie to her schedule at the college, and now, the only two homes in Clover were nothing short of atrocious. But if I didn’t attend Norton as I said and I didn’t have a home where I said, then what did I have? I was desperate to make my story plausible. Desperate to give myself a shot.

  Just when I thought I had no chance in hell of ever laying down roots in Clover, I had to remind myself of the ending to my recurring nightmare. The boulder had crushed my leg, or so I thought
. Despite the momentum it had from barreling down the hill, however, something had stopped it dead in its tracks—just above my ankle. When the fear subsided, I could see that there was a perfect tunnel etched into the perfectly round boulder. My foot was free, and I could slide out unscathed. I crawled out from underneath the boulder and I stood inches from it, marveling at the hazard that had never touched me but almost killed me.

  I had to remind myself that losing the ring wasn’t the end, Beck forgetting me wasn’t the end, and this wouldn’t be how my story ended either. It was then that I pictured Beck wearing a hard hat and a tool belt. It’s when I saw her laughing in the kitchen with a spatula. And it was when I saw her running through the tiny house wearing nothing but a bedsheet that I put an offer in on the house.

  I came in low, even lower than what the house was worth, but Tina said that the home had been on the market for a year, and had no offers to date. We were sure my offer would be accepted. And at the end of the day, Tina would have some cash in her pocket, and I would have one less lie to carry on my shoulders.

  Chapter 9

  I counted down the days until the trip in both anticipation and dread alike. I couldn’t wait to spend more time with Beck. There was a burning in my belly that told me I would inch my way closer to her heart if I had the time to do so. I couldn’t think of a better way than to celebrate our birthdays together on a weekend away. But a nagging sensation gnawed at my thoughts, never letting me forget that Nolan wouldn’t be far away. Behind every smile, every shared moment, and every glitter of hope, Nolan’s eyes would burrow into me like those of a blood-sucking tick.

  The funny part was, I couldn’t blame the guy. He had impeccable taste. It only bothered me that he didn’t feel the way I did for Beck. How could he? Our bond was something no college fling could come close to matching. Still, somewhere deep inside me, and unrelated to my conscious thoughts, I feared our untouchable bond wouldn’t be enough. Or possibly never discovered. And it was foolish if I thought a crystal dragonfly would be the gift that kept on giving. No, it had to be something more. A kiss, perhaps?

  I stumbled over my own two feet at the very thought of kissing Beck again, and I looked around to see if anyone had caught my blunder. If they had, they didn’t care to make a mockery of me. It was about time for Beck’s lunch, and I sat waiting on the bench she frequented. When her friend Brooklyn spotted me, she came to keep me company.

  “Hey there. How are you today?” Brooklyn asked. Her long dark hair was parted down the middle and brushed slightly in front of her eye.

  “Just another day in paradise,” I said.

  Brooklyn laughed, shaking off my sarcasm as she sat down. “I heard you’re going to Sin City with us next weekend. Are you excited?”

  “Yeah, I can’t wait. It’ll be nice to get out of this town and see the city.” I had lied so many times. Pretended I was naive or inexperienced. It flowed out of me like the air expelled from my lungs, and half of the time, I never even realized it. It was a means of survival and nothing more . . . but it could prove the barrier that kept me from getting close to others.

  “Me too! I’ve never been there. So excited!” Brooklyn said in a high-pitched tone. I looked up to catch her eyes, which were so warm and golden, they reminded me of spun honey, but that wasn’t even the most interesting part. It was the boredom reflected in her eyes as she claimed to be excited that interested me the most.

  “Hey,” Nolan said as he took a seat.

  “Hey,” Brooklyn responded.

  “So, what do you guys do in Sin City? Do you gamble?” I asked.

  “I just drink, man. Maybe drink by the pool during the day?” Nolan said. I was slowly peeling back the multiple layers of Nolan, and the more I did, the more that hope crowded out my insecurities.

  “I’m not twenty-one yet,” said Brooklyn, “but I’ve got a fake ID, so I’m covered.”

  Beck kissed Nolan on the cheek, and he swatted her on the rear, making her yelp and drawing attention from those around us. I tried not to show a reaction of any kind. “Can I see it?” I asked Brooklyn.

  “See what?” Beck asked, sitting down and pulling her bag onto her lap.

  “My ID.” Brooklyn handed me her ID from across the table. I looked at it closely for telltale signs of being a fake but couldn’t find any. It was as real as any other I’d seen.

  “Wow, that’s legit. Where did you get it?” I asked.

  “Oh, I have a guy.” Brooklyn placed her hand under her chin and posed like a cherub. I laughed and wondered how far from the truth it really was.

  “And your friend, James, does he have one too?”

  “No, Brooklyn is the baby of the bunch. James is . . . what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? I think he started at Norton late,” Beck said.

  “He didn’t start late. He’s just too dumb to pass his classes!” Nolan barked.

  “Stop that!” Beck smacked him with the back of her hand. “James is actually very smart.”

  Nolan laughed out loud, “Are you serious? Have you met James? He can’t sit still long enough to study! He’s probably never read a book!”

  I looked to Brooklyn during the quarrel, and she offered me an eye-roll. “Where is James? Does he go to school here?”

  “Yes, but our classes don’t align.” I nodded, eager to make up my own theories about the man they called James.

  A girl walked by on her cell phone, giving everyone a quick wave before meeting up with a guy. “Oh, that’s Payton. She’s coming to Sin City too,” Beck pointed to the girl. Nolan seemed to take a particular interest, but I preferred to watch Beck lick the lid of her yogurt. I pretended to listen to Brooklyn talk about something that happened in her class today, but the truth was, I was too busy stealing glances at Beck. Only when Nolan stood up abruptly and crumpled up his lunch bag to throw in the trash can did I turn my head to peek at Payton. Her arms were wrapped around the guy’s neck, and his hands rested dangerously low on her back. I watched Nolan slam his lunch into the trash. Beck’s eyes flickered about. I didn’t know how unstable her relationship was, but I gathered it may be rocky by the time this group was several drinks deep—in a place called Sin City, nonetheless.

  I showed up on Thursday at Norton University, just long enough to catch Beck passing through the halls. I told her I had an errand to run at lunch, but that I’d see her at the airport. I didn’t have errands to run, but I did fear wearing out my welcome. Figuring if I was going to be with Beck for a full weekend, I’d better give her a little space now. And if all went as planned, the statement “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” would ring true.

  I spent the day at the old dive bar where I used to meet Clyde the second time around. I was reminded of the evenings I labored to make up for leaving him behind in an unfit home. He never did let me in, and ultimately, I realized we were more alike than I ever imagined us to be. Still, I wished I had a third chance to make it right. Simon had been nowhere in sight. I only hoped that he had moved on to a better life. And if I didn’t find him in this one, perhaps I would see him in the next handful of lives to come. Joey no longer worked at the bar, which was to be expected at his age, and all the regulars had been replaced. Somehow, it felt more like home to me than the place I’d grown up. I knew that when I sat down in that dark grungy bar—whether or not I recognized the faces around me—that Clyde was with me.

  After showering the stench of smoke and booze off my body, I packed a bag for the trip. It was nearly everything I had with me when I moved out of my home. Precisely enough to get by and not an ounce more. I sent an e-mail to Tina about the house and dabbled in stocks before I set my alarm for the morning flight. And when I closed my eyes that night, I hoped I would return to Clover a different man.

  I filed onto the plane, careful not to bump the shoulders and elbows of the already seated passengers. The seating was open, and it was clear by the order in which the plane was being boarded that I wouldn’t be sitting with Beck. She took a middle seat, her f
riend Payton by the window, and Nolan on the aisle. I squeezed past Nolan as he placed his carry-on overhead and found the second-closest seats available. Behind them and across the aisle sat James, Brooklyn, and I. Brooklyn would have been my second choice, and I could tell that the feeling was mutual.

  James was a shorter, husky guy. His eyes were as dark as the mole on his left cheek. For what he lacked in height, though, he made up for in noise. I knew the key to his affection was none other than attention. It was the simplest personality to crack. I’d known my fair share of attention-seekers. Loud and boisterous, sometimes reckless and unforgiving. The need to be seen and heard trumped every other need . . . or so it would seem. But somewhere deep down was the need that always came up short—the one that was unmet and hidden away. I expected James to be no different, but what made him the most unique was not how bright his candle burned but how short the wick was. He wouldn’t live a long life.

  The flight attendant gave her spiel about safety, and though I had it memorized, I stared vaguely in her direction so I wouldn’t appear rude. You didn’t have to be an attention-seeker to want to be heard or respected; that was a shared personality trait amongst them all. Myself included.

  Brooklyn fiddled with the air spout above us, and James opened his backpack, revealing a plethora of snacks. Had I not known better, I’d say he robbed the gift shop.

  Brooklyn looked at me with a sympathetic eye. “It’s a shame, huh?” she said, hurt filling her eyes.

  I looked between her and James, and my skin turned warm. “What is?”

  Brooklyn’s gold eyes shifted, and she returned to being the carefree girl that I saw most of the time. “That he didn’t get us any chocolate. Oh, can I have one of these?” She pointed to a roll of Sprees.

  “Yeah, yeah! Take whatever you want,” James said.