by Russo, Jessa
“To me, Toby. This all happened to me. To my family.”
Toby’s mouth opened and closed, then his eyebrows slowly slid back down to their usual place, and he brought his gaze back to the road without saying another word.
I turned my attention to the world passing by my passenger side window, even though not much was visible under the early morning sliver of light. Minutes passed, and my brief chatty feeling dissipated. Why had he looked at me like that? Surprised at first, but then he’d seemed so…destroyed. Was I wrong? Was it not me, my mom, and even Ariadne that were totally thrown by these recent developments? Had I somehow missed something huge that involved Toby?
Aside from being forced to babysit you?
In my selfishness, I overlooked the fact that his life now consisted of running away, keeping me safe, and driving toward an area of the United States that he’d once wanted desperately to leave. The Pacific Northwest. Of course he was mad. He had to drop everything to cart me around. Who wouldn’t be pissed?
“You’re mad because Ted ruined your life.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
Toby slowed down and pulled to the side of the near-empty highway. He grabbed my hands, pulling them to his lap, so I turned toward him. He focused his dark eyes intently on mine and leaned forward.
“Listen to me, and listen good. No one ruined my life, Ever. You are my life. I haven’t been the same since we parted ways, and I realize now that I never will be. There’s a huge gaping space in my chest when you’re not around. So, whether you want this to work”—he waved our clasped hands between us—“or whether you even want to try, I know now that I have to be in your life, in one form or another.”
Wow. Um… What was I supposed to say to that?
“And if you’ll allow it”—he reached up, tucking a long dark strand of hair behind my ear, then brought his hand back down over our entwined fingers—“I want to try to be your boyfriend again. But if that’s not what you want, I’ll be your friend. However you’ll have me.”
I sucked in a breath, struggling to process this declaration and the meaning behind his words. He wanted to be my boyfriend again, and that brought back such chaotic feelings. Feelings of love and excitement, but also of disappointment and—
“Will you have me?”
I focused on his bottom lip, realizing that he chewed on it as he awaited my response.
The air felt charged as I pondered the question, as though the air itself was on edge, waiting for my answer. A feeling like someone holding a balloon just above the fine hair on my arms slowly covered my body, and every hair stood on end. It was both strange and comforting at once, and my stomach flip-flopped in response to the feeling, or possibly in response to what I knew was coming.
Toby’s gaze didn’t waiver, and as he held my focus, my pulse accelerated. Butterflies danced and twirled in my belly.
Would I have him?
Yes.
As a babysitter? A friend?
Or as a boyfriend?
I nodded, unable to think of an appropriate response for the boy who just poured his heart out to me, not completely ready to commit to anything specific. Toby’s face split into a grin—so much more than the usual half-smile he was known for. I smiled in response, unable to help myself. I wasn’t ready to be his girlfriend again, but I wasn’t about to say goodbye to him either. And deep down, something in my heart just knew. Knew that this was right. That he was right. That I was exactly where I was supposed to be, with whom I was supposed to be with.
“Can I kiss you again?”
No! my conscience warned, but the voice was subtle, growing easier to ignore as time passed by. I nodded again, though it may have been more of a jerking movement than an actual nod. I just wanted his lips on mine and for the strange charge in the air around us to either ignite or disappear.
Toby wasted no time pulling me toward him. With both hands in my hair, he brought my lips to his and kissed me in an all-consuming way that made me want to melt into him.
“Well, well, isn’t this interesting.”
The now-familiar voice startled us apart, and I pushed myself back against the car door as much as I could. The Seeker sat in the center of the back seat, exactly where he’d been the last time he’d surprised me in the Mustang. Toby turned in his seat, trying to cover me but unable to do so in the cramped car.
The old ghost laughed a gravelly laugh, and I was surprised to hear a hint of honest amusement in the sound. When he finished, he turned toward Toby, ignoring me completely.
“What have you gotten yourself into, Collector?”
“Who do you work for, Seeker?”
The Seeker clucked his tongue. “Tsk-tsk, Collector. It is quite rude to respond to a question with a question. But, not to worry, I see with my own two eyes what you’ve gotten yourself into. Falling in love with a Mark. Can’t say I haven’t heard of this before, but it is quite rare. And for good reason. You know the score, boy, yet you allow yourself to feel for her. Why?”
“That’s none of your business. What do you want? Who do you work for?”
“Who I work for doesn’t matter. As you can see, I’m not turning her in.”
Toby chanced a glance back at me, and his eyebrows drew down in thought. I shrugged, unable to answer the question in his eyes. I mean, shouldn’t Toby be the one answering my questions?
We both turned our attention back to the Seeker.
“Eleanor. I told you I liked you, and I meant it. Clearly, your character is not in question here or lover boy wouldn’t risk”—he paused, and the vague outline of his eyebrows rose over his blurred forehead—“my, my, was I wrong? Have you decided to keep her for yourself?”
Keep me for himself? What does that mean?
“Hmm,” the Seeker continued in his raspy drawl. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“No.”
Geez, didn’t he at least want to know what the deal was before he answered? I did.
The Seeker turned toward Toby. “I’m sorry. No?”
“No. I don’t negotiate with Seekers.”
“Oh, yes, the silly pride of a Collector. You really think you’re better than me, boy?”
Toby’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond.
“Indeed. Well then”—he brought his gaze to mine and leaned into the front seat—“Eleanor, here’s the deal: I will allow you to continue on your way—for now—but as soon as you hit the Oregon/Washington border, I will collect you myself and turn you in. However, should you find a way to talk some sense into your boyfriend here, I would be willing to forgo this deal for a much more…mutually beneficial arrangement. Don’t delay; I won’t renege on my promise.”
As the final word hit the air, the Seeker vanished, and with him the charged feeling I’d sensed in the air before Toby and I kissed. It hadn’t been a spark between us at all, but an indication that our Seeker wanted us to know he was near. Silly girl.
“Dammit!” Toby’s fist connected with the steering wheel, snapping me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t even noticed him turn around to face the front of the car.
“What does he want from you?”
“You can’t guess?” he snapped.
“Um, no. What is it?”
“He wants his life back, Ever. I give him his life back, and he leaves you alone.”
“Oh.”
Well, what could the harm be in that? I mean, Frankie got his life back, no problem. Had Ariadne not been such a vindictive bitch, I wouldn’t be in danger and Frankie would just be enjoying his second chance at life. So, if this Seeker got his life back, he’d leave us alone and that would be one less Seeker to worry about. And frankly, he’s the only one who’d found us so far, so maybe there weren’t many after me. Right?
Right. “Well, okay, so what if—?”
“No,” Toby snapped. “It’s out of the question. I’m not discussing this with you, and I don’t make deals with Seekers. Let’s just keep moving.”
“That�
��s it? You’re just not going to discuss it with me? Are you serious?”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Toby said as he pulled the Mustang back onto the highway. “I can’t do it, Ever. I can’t take the risk, and he’s just one of many Seekers. I can’t likely give them all their lives back.”
“But, I don’t understand. He’s the only one who’s even managed to track us. Why can’t you at least talk to him about it?”
“Ever! Think about what you’re asking me here! What if he’s a serial killer? Or a rapist? What if he was a pedophile when he was alive? We have no idea who he was or what his story is. I can’t just go around giving random ghosts their lives back. I’m not God!”
“That didn’t stop Ariadne,” I mumbled toward the passing scenery. I didn’t like the way Toby was so freaked out about this, and his reluctance to talk it over was irritating.
“I’m not Ariadne!”
I didn’t say another word, though snarky comments floated through my mind from time to time. We rode in silence, again, for a number of hours. Toby didn’t move much, save for switching his iPod song list around every so often. First, we heard a long mix of The Misfits—which I assumed was his angry music—then he switched it over to a mix of Tom Petty songs, then a few old favorites by The Black Keys—reminding me of when we were together before—then a little of the Alabama Shakes.
I’d been relieved to find a couple books in my luggage, something my mom must have remembered and stuffed away for me. I was grateful for her ability to know what I’d need even when I’d had no idea how to prepare for this trip. Although, she was probably thinking about downtime in hotel rooms when she packed the books, not awkward car rides with my grumpy ex-boyfriend.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
I tilted my head up and looked at Toby. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, what do you want me to say?”
“That you forgive me.”
“You didn’t ask for forgiveness.”
“Well, then, Ever…will you please forgive me for snapping at you?”
“Will you please not do that again? You were kind of a jerk, you know.”
“I do. And I won’t snap at you again. This is just really…stressful. I know this is stressful for you, so I don’t have to explain, but it is for me, too.”
“I know it is. But why can’t we just talk about it? This is the shit that used to drive me so crazy with you. You had so many secrets and always kept me in the dark. You said you wouldn’t do that anymore, remember?”
“You’re right. I did say that. And I meant it. I guess it’s just easier for me to keep you in the dark, to protect you. Old habits and all that.”
“Stop it. Talk to me. We’re in this together, aren’t we? I have to be able to trust you, and I can’t do that if I think you’re going to shut down every time things get too scary for poor defenseless Ever.”
Toby turned to me, his eyebrows drawn down over his eyes. “Poor defenseless Ever? Is that how you think I treat you?”
I raised one eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Wow, um, that sucks. I’m sorry. I don’t think of you that way.” He glanced at me again, then back to the road before us. “I think you’re strong, one of the strongest girls I’ve ever met.”
Well, that may be a stretch. I brought my attention back to my book and read the same line about fifteen times. Damn. I hate when I can’t focus. I looked out the window as we approached the first sign of humanity in a long while.
“You hungry?” Toby asked. “I have to stop for gas anyway. Want to eat?”
I glanced at the clock as my stomach growled. We’d been in the car for almost four hours. “Sure. I could eat.” And pee. I could definitely use a bathroom break.
“Central Weed,’” I read aloud as we exited the freeway. “I don’t get it.”
“That’s the name of the town.”
“What’s the name of the town?”
“Weed.”
“Weed? Like, pot?”
“Doubtful,” Toby said with a smirk. “But that would be less unfortunate than being named after a plant group everybody hates, don’t you think?”
“Um. It’s a toss-up,” I answered as I gazed back out the window. At some point during the drive from Sacramento, the scenery had changed. I’d either been too focused on reading or too focused on being mad at Toby to notice that the brown desert of Sacramento—and most of Southern California, who was I kidding?—had slowly given way to pine trees.
“‘Weed Like to Welcome You,’” I read as we entered the small town. “Wow. That’s terrible.”
Toby laughed. “Terribly clever.”
“Oh, look! A souvenir shop! What do you think they sell there? Weed or weeds?”
“Ha. She’s got jokes. What do you want to eat?”
We passed a Shell station on our right, then a Laundromat on the left. An old motel painted in southwest pastels. A liquor store. A Chevron.
“I don’t think we have a lot of choice in the matter. I have yet to see even one food option.”
“Well,” Toby said. “I’d be prone to agree with you, had I not been here before.”
“You’ve actually been here before? This tiny town in the middle of nowhere? Why?”
“Driving down from Seattle.”
“Oh. Yeah. Because you’re not from Montana.”
He smiled a weak half-smile. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” I said with a deep breath, changing the subject. “Where to then, captain?”
Toby slowed down in front of a Subway, but instead of turning into the parking lot like I thought he’d been about to do, he flipped a U-turn. He drove back to the motel we’d just passed, pulling into a parking space in front of the Hi-Lo Café.
“Um—”
“Don’t knock it till you try it,” he said as he stepped out of the Mustang.
Okay. But if I get food poisoning…
Toby made it to my side of the car before I even finished my thought, opening my door for me and reaching out. I looked up at him as I placed my hand in his. His dark gaze held mine, and a shiver of anticipation scurried its way across my skin. How could I still feel so much from just the simple touch of his hand?
We made our way into the Hi-Lo Café, hand in hand. I figured I should let go of his hand, but something blocked the instruction from my brain to my fingers. They remained locked with Toby’s.
A woman named Gracie Lynn led us to a green vinyl booth with a burgundy tabletop, and as I glanced around I realized that neither the restaurant—nor Gracie Lynn—had been updated since the early 80’s. Her hair was a frizzy mess atop her head, held there by a neon scrunchie, and her eye shadow was so perfectly pastel that she could have jumped straight out of a 1976 Cover Girl advertisement.
Our menus were newspapers. The coffee cups on the table were mismatched. I examined mine for old lipstick stains, but didn’t find any, then I scrunched up my nose and looked at Toby.
“Just trust me,” he whispered.
“Fine. What would you suggest I eat?”
“Well, I’ve only been here for breakfast, but judging by the biscuits and gravy here, everything will be amazing.”
“Hmm, and cause a coronary by the look of things,” I said under my breath as I watched a plate of greasy food pass by in Gracie Lynn’s arms. My stomach growled, clearly undeterred by the heart attack I was about to have from eating at the Hi-Lo Café. I reviewed the menu for a few minutes before making my decision. Screw it. When in Rome.
“You kids ready to order?” Gracie Lynn asked.
Toby waved his hand for me to go ahead.
“I’ll have the patty melt, please.”
Toby choked on his coffee, his eyes wide.
“Fries or mashed potatoes, dear?”
“Mmm…fries, please. And a chocolate malt.”
Toby ordered a hamburger and coleslaw, then looked at me with his head tilted sideways and his eyebrows raised. When our server w
as out of earshot, he coughed to get my attention.
“What?” I asked.
“About that coronary you mentioned…”
“Shut it. I’m hungry. And you only live once, right?”
Toby shook his head and put his hands up, palms out. “No, no, I’m not knocking it. I love the way you eat.”
“I’m sorry?” What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“I mean, I love that you just eat what you want. Some girls are just so…”
“I eat salads, too, you know. I just figured, ‘When in Rome,’ right?”
“Right.”
A little while later, Gracie Lynn returned with our massive plates of food. Holy crap. As she set mine down in front of me, my eyes just about bulged out of my head. My patty melt was four inches high, and greasy, just-out-of-the-fryer French fries covered an entire two-thirds of my plate. Toby’s order was no better. His hamburger was mountainous, with a patty at least an inch and a half thick—even the coleslaw was a heaping amount, enough to feed a small family. Our gazes met, then Toby licked his lips and picked up his burger.
“For this, I will gladly suffer a coronary.”
“Speaking of coronaries,” a gravelly voice said behind me. I flipped my head around, staring right into the translucent face of our Seeker. He snapped his fingers. “Such a pity.”
A customer shrieked on the other side of the restaurant. I turned my head in that direction and saw Gracie Lynn lying on the ground in the far corner of the restaurant. Motionless. I watched the people around her rush to her side, then everyone began to slow, moving in relaxed motion and dragging every second out to a painfully sluggish pace. I knew I was imagining it, that my mind wasn’t processing the unfolding scene correctly, but I couldn’t help but want to scream at them to do something!
“Oh my God,” I whimpered. I brought my gaze back to the Seeker. “Did you…?” I couldn’t finish the question. I already knew the answer.
“Don’t be sad, sweet Eleanor, she had it coming. Look at the weight she was carrying around. That’s no good for the old ticker,” he said as he tapped the air around the area where his heart would have been. “Let’s just say I…sped up the process a bit.”
