Waiting for April

by Jaime Loren

  “She would be a miracle in every sense of the word.”

  “She is.” I gripped my knee hard with my right hand. “She’s currently living her twentieth life. She has never made it past the age of seventeen.”

  The professor sat back, mystified. “What sort of proof do you have? Do you have photos—?”

  I shook my head emphatically. “No. No photos. No one can know who she is.”

  The look in his eyes turned from a thirst for knowledge to understanding.

  He nodded. “You love her.”

  I cleared my throat. “I do.”

  “And I take it Mr. Spencer is not your real name.”

  “It’s not.”

  His chair creaked as he leaned forward. “I would need some sort of evidence to examine this case further. I can’t just take your word for it,” he laughed.

  “I’m aware of that.” I stood up and placed my briefcase on his desk. His eyes widened when I popped it open. “That’s one million. If you can find me some answers, there’s nine more waiting for you.”

  He scoffed, then laughed, then looked up at me in utter disbelief. If he had any doubts as to whether I was joking, the serious look on my face was answer enough.

  He shook his head, his eyes fixed on the money. “I—I’m speechless.”

  “There’s only one condition.” He looked up. “I don’t want anybody knowing about this. The money is yours, not the university’s. I can’t stress that enough. If I so much as hear or read one word about my plight—”

  “You have my word.”

  He stood, and didn’t break eye contact. I had to remember that April’s mortal and eternal life was at stake, and that exposing myself was a risk to both of us, but it was no longer a choice.

  “When I called to arrange this meeting, I asked you to sharpen your most valuable knife,” I reminded him.

  He laughed again, still in shock. “I must admit, I found the request a little odd.”

  “Your knife?” I urged.

  He pulled open his drawer and held it out. “This isn’t one of those moments where you present me with money to build my hopes, and then stick the knife in my gullet, is it?” he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

  “No. The point is, Professor, you’re going to stick it in mine.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  I smirked. “At least, you’re going to attempt to.”

  He shook his head. “I—I don’t understand.”

  I took a deep breath and unburdened him of the knife. “You see, Professor—”

  “Please, call me Tom. There are one million reasons why we’re now on a first name basis.”

  I nodded and removed my shirt. “Tom … my existence is linked to hers. But where she dies, I … live.” I quickly plunged the knife into my stomach. Tom let out a short yell and lunged forward. He turned a ghostly white, his eyes wide as he looked at my stomach, then up at me.

  The fact April had been resuscitated hadn’t restored my vulnerability. Her soul had crossed over, and the powers that be had stepped in. Apparently rules were rules, and I’d have to wait for her to confess her love again.

  I prayed she’d wake up in order to do that.

  I pulled the knife away to reveal my unmarked, un-punctured flesh. Tom stumbled from his side of the desk to mine, holding his hand out for the knife. I turned it around and offered him the handle. He took it and turned his wrist, letting the light reflect and bounce off the blade, and then reached for the tip. I grabbed his hand.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  He swallowed hard. There was a red apple sitting on his desk. I picked it up and placed it closer to him. He glanced at it, then at me, and balanced the blade in the center. With very little force, the blade cut through the apple like butter. When I laid my bare arm next to the two halves, he swallowed hard again. His hand shook, but he dragged the blade across my arm. When no amount of force would break my skin, he dropped the knife and stumbled back.

  “I’ve seen ghosts,” he said. “I’ve seen creatures that look like they’ve crawled straight out of Hell, and proved eleven cases of reincarnation. Poltergeists, psychics, black magic, people with extra-human strength—”

  “But you’ve never seen an immortal?”

  He shook his head and sank into the chair next to mine. “No. I’m sorry if I’m coming across as a little unprofessional right now.”

  Taking my seat next to him, I smiled to make him feel more at ease. “Tom, I didn’t come here because I thought you’d have all the answers. I came in the hope that you could point me in the direction of someone who might.”

  “But … why me? Why not Worthington or—or Evans?”

  “Because you’re the black sheep.” His mouth twitched. “I need someone willing to take a risk. Someone who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty and break some rules.”

  He took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Then you’ve made the right choice.” I sighed with relief. He nodded again as he rose to his feet and crossed the room to retrieve a bound leather notebook. After collecting a black pen and taking his seat again, he flipped the notebook open. “Your immortality is dependent upon her death?”

  I closed my eyes, picturing April, and prayed to God and anyone who would listen, asking for a miracle. “She’s the love of my life …”

  Chapter 30

  (April)

  Rowan had been the first person I’d seen when I’d woken up. The initial confusion had had me questioning whether or not we’d even gone to the cabin for spring break, but the fact I was in a hospital bed in Bangor, Maine, quickly proved otherwise. When my heart and lungs had turned against me, they’d put me in an induced coma for three weeks. The coma had allowed my body the rest it needed to fight the damage that’d been done, and miraculously, it’d worked wonders. There was no sign of brain damage, and I would gain more strength every day with a little help from my physical therapist.

  I’d staved off death. For now.

  As it turned out, Rowan was here because Scott had called and told him what’d happened. Scott had also left me a note—the only word I’d had from him since I’d woken up.

  My Dearest April,

  If you are reading this, then you are alive, and I am overjoyed. But I am also heartbroken, because you now know I have broken my promise to you.

  You are the love of my life, and it is for that very reason I cannot risk your health or safety in my search for answers.

  I will not rest until you have celebrated your eighteenth birthday. Know that I will carry with me the memory of our last night together, and see your beautiful face whenever I close my eyes.

  Please, do not look for me. My existence is only bearable if I know you are safe.

  Goodbye for now, my beautiful April Fletcher.

  My heart and soul, forever,

  Scott

  It was a pain worse than death, and had caused a reaction worthy of two extra days’ sedation.

  Returning to school wasn’t high on my agenda. Thankfully my parents agreed it would be best if I took it easy, and they arranged a part-time schedule with my teachers. It worked on a number of levels. The less time I spent at school, the less time I spent listening to whispers that I’d freaked out on Rowan, gone on an all-night bender, participated in an orgy with Scott and a number of nameless guys, then gone skinny-dipping and nearly drowned. The thing that hurt the most was, those whispers had elements of truth to them. I had freaked out. I did have sex with Scott. And obviously, I’d nearly drowned. The three events that’d had the biggest impact on my life—this life—had all happened within one week. The best and worst week I’d ever had.

  So yes, time away from school was a good thing. The only downfall about being home was that I could see Henry’s house from my bedroom, and every day that Big Blue remained absent from the Brice driveway was another day I’d spent without Scott. Every night I sat on my armchair, watching from my window. Waiting. Hoping. Praying his bedroom light would suddenly b
righten the far end of Henry’s house.

  It never did.

  The only good news to come from the past month was the fact Joshua had also woken up and was making a nice recovery. Having almost lost their children, both Stella’s and Joshua’s parents had counted their lucky stars, and agreed to allow them to see each other. Considering he seemed to do better with Stella by his side, he’d been transferred to Burlington where he could be closer to her, and was undergoing daily physical therapy. His speech was slurred and he would never regain full use of his leg, but he was improving with each session. Stella rushed home from the hospital to update me almost every day, and I thanked God he was still alive. That Stella was happy.

  I was happy for her. For them.

  But each night I lay in my bed watching Scott’s window, remembering my pasts and dreading my ominous future.

  *****

  There was a knock on the door at seven o’clock. Dog-earing the page of my novel, I glanced at Mom, who avoided my eyes.

  “You want to get that, honey?” she asked.

  I turned to my dad, who was sitting at the dining table reading the sports section of the Mountain Gazette. Either he hadn’t heard the door, or he’d decided not to acknowledge it. I weighed up my options, then decided that if someone was going to randomly attack me, they probably weren’t going to knock on my door first. Sighing, I slid from the couch. For a second my heart fluttered at the thought it might be Scott. The possibility hastened my steps.

  “Hey.” Rowan’s smile brightened his eyes.

  My heart plummeted back down to earth. “Oh, hey.”

  Despite the fact Rowan had been by my side ever since Scott had left, I still didn’t know where I stood with him. And, to be honest, just looking at him made me feel incredibly guilty for how things had turned out.

  My guilt was only somewhat alleviated by the stories I’d heard at school …

  With his hands in his pockets, he scuffed the toe of his boot against the welcome mat. “We haven’t had a chance to really talk about what happened.”

  I watched as Duke sniffed Rowan’s car. “I know.”

  “You haven’t been around at school the last few days.”

  “No, I’ve been sleeping a lot, so …”

  “At least that makes one of us,” he mumbled. “So does that mean you’re rested?”

  I hesitated. “I guess. Why?”

  “I just wanted to know if you were coming to graduation tomorrow.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “I don’t know.” I stepped outside to close the door behind me. “I think I have an orgy scheduled.”

  Rowan set his jaw and looked away. “I didn’t start that rumor, April.”

  “Then who did?”

  He met my eyes. “I may have come home and offloaded some anger after leaving you at the cabin, but I never said you were a slut.”

  “Thanks so much,” I said, reaching for the handle.

  He grabbed my arm. “I was angry,” he admitted. “Furious, even. But I would never do something so stupid. I don’t want to lose you altogether.”

  “I want to believe you, Rowan …”

  “But?”

  “But the truth is … I was horrible to you.” I shrugged out of his grip and shuffled to the stairs to sit down. “After all that time we were together, I … I chose Scott. I know that hurt you, and I’m really sorry.” It felt good to finally say it out loud to him. “You had every right to be furious.”

  Rowan, who’d fallen silent for a full minute, finally came and sat beside me. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then what did he do right?”

  I bunched a section of my skirt in each fist. Everything.

  “Was it because he jumped in front of that SUV for you? Because if I’d been there, I’d have—”

  “No.” Heat flooded my cheeks. “I don’t really know how to say it without upsetting you.”

  “I think we’re past that, Red.”

  I clenched my fists tighter, the sweat from my palms leaching into my skirt.

  “When I saw you in that hospital bed, I didn’t know whether to be furious with Scott that he’d let something like that happen to you, or carve him a fucking medal for saving your life. And for a while I thought … if you woke up, we could go back to the way we were. We could get back what we had, and plan to be together in the future, just like we’ve always talked about.” He turned to face me. “But what we had was all in my mind.”

  I placed my hand on his arm. “That’s not true. I did love you.”

  “But you weren’t in love with me.”

  I dropped my eyes, unable to deny it. “I thought I was.”

  Rowan scoffed. “But then he moved to town.”

  I lowered my head.

  “Just … please tell me he didn’t get what he needed from you and walk away? Because if he did, I’ll fucking kill him.”

  “You’d have to find him first,” I mumbled. And figure out a way to kill an immortal being.

  I looked up to find Rowan’s eyes wide with horror.

  “And no, he didn’t get what he needed from me.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. I didn’t get what I needed from him, either. We’d had one night. It wasn’t enough.

  And it sure as hell wasn’t any of Rowan’s business.

  Rowan’s sigh was one of relief. He nodded quickly and stood up.

  It felt strange to be so close to him physically now. This was the guy I’d been making out with for two years. Shame curdled deep within me. I’d made out with other guys over the centuries, while Scott had remained completely faithful to me. How could he look at me the same way, knowing Rowan had had his tongue in my mouth hundreds of times?

  Then again, it could’ve been worse.

  I silently thanked the powers that be that I’d waited for the right guy when it came to my virginity. Images of that night returned, and for a moment I could hear his delicate whisper in my ear.

  My heart skipped a beat. I clutched at my chest.

  “You okay?” Rowan asked, his brow furrowed.

  I nodded and stood up, desperate for a change of subject. “Mom told me you got into Norwich?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Congratulations. I’m really happy for you.”

  He shoved his hands in his back pockets and nodded. “Well, when you’ve finished your law degree and have married a Harvard doctor, maybe you’ll be able to afford one of my house designs.”

  I forced a smile. “Maybe.”

  “Anyway, I’d better go. Mike and Craig are waiting for me at the Tav.” He hesitated. “You’re welcome to join us. I’ll even throw in some Bullwinkle impersonations.”

  He always did know how to make me smile.

  “No, thanks.” I glanced at Scott’s house across the field. Unfortunately, my look didn’t go unnoticed. A moment of extreme awkwardness passed between us before I stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Rowan nodded, then headed for his car.

  Chapter 31

  (Scott)

  Jericho, Vermont – May

  The sea of royal blue graduation gowns chopped back and forth as students moved around the lawn to take their seats. The atmosphere was abuzz with a mixture of reminiscence, uncertainty, adrenaline and excitement—most likely for tonight’s party, rather than the graduation ceremony. According to Henry, Rowan and Stella had been pleading that April go to the party, but I didn’t think it wise. With that many drunken teenagers in one place, the potential for accidents was too high to ignore. Then again, she could slip over in the bathroom and hit her head, so hiding in her house wasn’t exactly foolproof.

  Just preferable. And besides, I couldn’t tell her how to live her life. She’d laid that rule down herself.

  I stood out of sight. If she begged me to stay, I wouldn’t be able to leave her again, and she was sliding the downhill slope toward her grave with each passing day. I couldn’t let her down. Not again.

  I should’v
e been there, graduating with her. I’d been named class valedictorian, but considering I’d vanished, it was up to April to deliver the speech. I knew she’d make me pay for that. No doubt her stomach had been churning for days at the thought of getting up in front of everyone, her parents included, and listing all the things her fellow students could look forward to in the future. College. Love. Jobs. Marriage. Children. They could have it all, and I knew she’d envy them for it. I envied them for it.

  She sat on stage, rubbing her hands and bouncing her knees. They had to call her name twice, and my heart sank over the position I’d put her in.

  Craig, who was seated next to her, elbowed her.

  Her head shot up, and she straightened her gown. I noticed Stella giving her a wink as April swept her eyes across their surroundings. When her gaze almost landed on me, I spun behind the tree I’d been leaning on, and closed my eyes.

  But the moment passed, and a few seconds later she was making the lonely walk to the podium.

  A breeze tousled the ends of her hair as she faced the crowd. After taking a deep, shaky breath that made me feel ill, she spotted Henry standing in the distance. For a moment I saw the young man he’d once been. I remembered the two of us taking a seat in a booth at the diner April had worked in with Daphne Porter, and the way Henry used to call her over even though it wasn’t her side to wait on.

  The way I’d try not to give my feelings away whenever she’d looked at me, but at the same time, the way I couldn’t take my eyes off her when she wasn’t looking.

  I remembered posing for a photograph of the three of us together before Henry threw April over his shoulder and spun around, making her squeal with laughter. An old woman passing by had told us to stop acting like a bunch of hooligans in broad daylight, and we’d all burst into laughter once she’d rounded the corner.

  My chest both swelled and ached with the memory. We were just kids having fun, excited and hopeful, the way our class was now.

  Henry, looking frail, gave her a soft smile and nodded his head encouragingly. She balled her speech up in her hand and held onto it tight. It was no longer needed. After clearing her throat again, she told our friends and families how life had many unexpected twists. How things would happen that we couldn’t prevent, and how a lot of these things wouldn’t be easy to endure. But with the lows, there would be highs, and just a minute of happiness—while it wouldn’t erase our bad experiences—would make life worth living.