by Russo, Jessa
Again, I inhaled a deep breath and blew it into her mouth.
Again, she didn’t respond.
“Ever! Help! Somebody! Help me…” I sat up on my knees and looked around, remembering we were in the middle of the lake, in the middle of the night. “Help me.”
I looked back down at the stubborn, stupid girl in my arms. “What have you done?” I whispered, holding her face in my hands. “What have you done?”
Tears dripped from my eyes, falling onto her cheeks. I ran my thumbs over the wetness coating her soft cheeks.
“What have you done, baby? Please come back to me, Ever.”
I rested my head against hers, pulling her slack body into my arms and holding her chest to mine. Her head flopped back, and I heard myself wail.
“Ever!”
My chest suddenly swelled with emotion. Heat filled me, sending warmth into my veins; a sensation so good I knew I’d never felt anything like it before. Liquid heat surged through me, warming me to my very core. As I tried to catch my breath, something whispered across my mind.
“It worked,” she murmured, her voice faint and…impossibly far away.
“Ever?” I lifted her body, staring down into her lifeless face, then looked around, sure that someone must be messing with me. “What the…? Who’s out there?”
I laid her out on the seat, then stood, looking out across the water, scanning the surface and the surrounding lakefront homes. Not a boat or person in sight; not even a ripple on the dark water. I looked back down at Ever and heard a sob escape my lips as more tears fell.
“I’m here, Toby.”
The voice was closer now, not quite as hard to hear. I mean, it sounded like it was…in my—
No way. I’m losing my mind.
“No you’re not,” she cautioned inside my head. “You gained mine.”
Ever? I felt ridiculous answering the voice inside my head, but… What did you do?
“I gave you my soul. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad. It was all I could think of. I know you’ll keep it safe.”
I crumpled, hitting the floor of the boat, my knees crashing into the fiberglass. My fingers tangled in my hair, frustration, fear and joy fighting for center stage in my mind. She wasn’t dead!
“What were you thinking?” I shouted into the night.
“It was the only way to save Frankie, Toby. Don’t be mad.”
“Mad?” I asked, knowing anyone who happened to come across me talking to myself would absolutely think I was mad. “You’re worried I’ll be mad, Ever? Have you lost your mind? Do you know—?”
She giggled, her soft laugh filling my mind. “I don’t think I lost it exactly. I gave it to you, remember?”
“This isn’t funny! I thought I lost you!”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you. You would have never let me—”
“You’re damn right I would have never let you do this! God, Ever! You practically just died in my arms!”
“But I—”
“How? How did you do this?” Tell me how you even knew how.
“I spoke with Samuel. The Seeker. He told me—”
“What?” I snapped. “When? How?”
“Stop yelling. I’m right here.”
“Ever. Tell me.”
“When you were in the shower. I just came outside and he was—”
“You went outside alone? You knew better!”
“It wasn’t an accident, Toby!” Her voice reverberated through my mind, quite a bit louder than she’d been thus far.
Ouch. Damn, it hurts when she yells.
“It hurts me when you yell,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to remain calm. But you have to understand how crazy this all is, Ever. You have to see what a mistake this was.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. I had to do it.”
“What did he tell you? What happens now?”
“Well…don’t be mad, okay?”
“Shit.” I’m not mad. Go on.
“I promised him you’d give him his life back, and he told me how to transfer my soul to you.”
I shook my head, closing my eyes as the gravity of her actions sank in. Ted and the other Originals would shit bricks when they found out what she’d done, what I’d allowed her to do by leaving her alone. They’ll murder me for sure—
“No they won’t. They’ll understand.”
“Shit.” I forget you can hear me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice becoming faint. “I know it’s weird, and I know you’re mad at me…”
“Wait, Ever. Please don’t go.”
“I have nowhere to go, Toby.”
“But you were quiet just then, like your voice was further away or something.” God, that sounds so stupid.
“No it doesn’t.”
“What else did he want? What’s the catch?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“You don’t know. Of course you don’t. How do we get your soul back into your body?”
Silence.
“You don’t know that either. Fantastic.”
“I’m sorry. It was the only way. Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad!”
She sighed.
I’m sorry, Ever. I’m trying to stay calm.
I looked down at her beautiful face, so calm—like she merely slept.
“I’m going to fix this,” I said to her still lifeless body. I searched the floor of the boat for her pajama pants, then went to put them on. “Um, I’m going to dress you now, is that okay?”
“You didn’t ask permission when you undressed me,” she said, giggling again.
I smiled, then shook my head. This was too crazy. I pulled the pants up her legs—
“Huh.”
“Huh what?” I asked aloud.
“I just thought I was fatter than that.”
I paused. You thought you were fat?
She didn’t respond.
“You’re perfect,” I whispered. Did you hear that? Perfect. I sighed. Wait. You can see what I see?
Silence.
Ever?
“Sorry. I nodded. Or thought I did. That’s weird.”
“I think weird is an understatement, babe.”
I began to wrap a blanket around her body, worried that it may somehow still feel cold—though feeling completely psychotic thinking that way.
Can you feel your body?
“I don’t… I don’t think so.”
I wrapped her up anyway, then stood and took a deep breath. I stepped over to the steering wheel and turned the key in the ignition. I drove back to Louis and Cora’s as quickly as I could, ignoring wake zones and speed limits and almost crashing into their old dock.
Are you still there? I thought at her, then closed my eyes because this whole thing felt really absurd.
“I’m here.”
“Do you feel it?” I asked, running my hand over my chest.
“Yes. It feels good.”
“It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. You…you’re so warm. I can’t even…I don’t think I have the words. You feel like…safety…like happiness, like…love. The deepest love I’ve ever—”
“Toby?”
“Yeah?” I asked, slightly winded. I stared down at my chest, expecting to see something different. A feeling this intense had to be visible, tangible. Red. I anticipated a bright red glow to pour out from the center of my chest, but nothing had changed. Nothing on the outside, at least.
“I love you…but you talk too much.”
I love you, too. But what have you done? “Why didn’t you let me fix this? Why didn’t you let me—?”
“What? Save me? Don’t you see? I didn’t want you to fix it. I didn’t want the Originals to be in control of my life, or Frankie’s, or yours… I had to do this myself.”
“You’re so stubborn…”
“You love me.”
I love you so damn much, Ever. More than you know, you stubborn, stubbor
n girl.
I swear I felt her soul warm inside me, like she was…smiling. Or blushing. I rubbed my hand over my chest, then scooped her body up into my arms, cradling her head to my chest.
I sucked in a deep breath, then went inside, bracing myself for the shit show I knew I’d create when I carried her limp body inside.
Thank You For Reading
© 2013 Jessa Russo
http://www.jessarusso.com
An unashamed super fan of all things paranormal romance, Jessa Russo reads, writes and breathes paranormal YA, rarely straying from her comfort zone. When not writing or reading, Jessa enjoys making memories with her awesome family and amazingly supportive friends, while secretly planning her next trip to New Orleans. She’s won a few flash fiction contests and had a short story published, but feels her greatest accomplishment is raising the coolest kid ever – a little girl with a Tim Burton obsession and a desire to save every animal she sees.
Jessa will always call Southern California home, where she lives with her husband Jon, their daughter Faith, Bronco the Great Dane and Lola the Chihuahua.
Acknowledgements
Before I thank the handful of people who helped me take EVADE from concept to the finished product you hold in your hands, I want to first acknowledge something we don’t often discuss, and when we do, I find we censor our words and leave bits out…the dreaded trilogy syndrome, and more specifically, the second book of a trilogy nightmare.
Now, plenty of writers have addressed this syndrome from a storyline standpoint: how do you create more tension than the first book, or up the stakes, or how do you answer some questions but not all so that you have plenty to tie up in the final installment…stuff like that. But, I want to address what it was like for me to write EVADE after I began receiving mixed reviews on EVER.
See, I’m not a plotter. I wish I was, I honestly do. But I’m not. And every time I try to be a plotter, I just find myself writing again and heading blindly where the characters lead me. Maybe this will change someday. Maybe it won’t. But I can’t try to fix something that isn’t truly broken, so I’m just going to accept the fact that I fly by the seat of my pants while writing.
That should have been fine for me, and would have, had I finished the series before I published EVER. But, alas, I was a newbie author and had no idea what was to come. See, I understood that some people wouldn’t like EVER. They’d think the storyline was overdone, boring, predictable…find my main character too this or too that…you name it. I went into it expecting negativity. Not a lot, obviously, because I’m vain enough to think my work is awesome, but I did expect to receive some negative reviews. I was okay with that.
What was not expected, and no one can truly prepare you for, was the way those reviews affected me. As a person. As a writer. As a woman.
Let me rewind a bit… EVER was my first completed manuscript. Ever herself was the first character I truly formed, fully created, and wholeheartedly poured myself into. She’s flawed and immature, wishy washy, and often does or says the wrong thing. Like many (if not all) teenage girls, she’ll make you want to pull your hair out at times.
Some people loved her. Related to her. Understood her. Some people accepted her for her flaws, loved her beyond her quirks.
But some didn’t.
So when I began writing EVADE, I constantly found myself hitting the wall. Ever became someone she shouldn’t be, made decisions that were not true to her character, or didn’t fit with her level of growth in specific points of the story. I’d have to stop, step away, and redirect her. She was becoming who the critics wanted her to be, not who she was.
So, it’s taken me over a year to write EVADE. I am not someone who writes a book in a week, but DIVIDE (unrelated to EVER) was written mostly in a month, polished, edited and ready to query in under four months, so the fact that EVADE took me so long to write is very telling. I’d often find myself saying things like, “I hate this story,” or “I hate this character.” I allowed the negative reviews to overshadow the good ones, but worse than that, I allowed them to overshadow the story inside of me.
You don’t have to like my book. You don’t have to like me. But I feel like I need to stick up for Ever because I am her voice.
She is boy crazy. As was I.
She is confused and fickle. Like I was.
She leads with her emotions and rarely thinks things through. I still do.
Her dad died when she was sixteen and this wasn’t a plot twist. This was my life.
She loves two boys wholeheartedly, and can’t decide between them. If you only knew the chaos inside my heart at that age.
She wears black but isn’t emo, has a best friend who wears only pink. Oh, if you knew the friends I surround(ed) myself with, you’d understand.
Negative reviews about EVER/Ever nearly caused me to give up on the trilogy. They made me question everything about my story and my characters, but most of all, they made me question myself. Because if I was so much a part of Ever, and she so much a part of me, if no one liked her, did no one like me? Was I a bad person? Were my teenaged mistakes something to be ashamed of? Would I have been judged for my indecision, or my occasional helplessness?
At the end of the day, the answer is and will always be no. Ever is just one portrayal of teenaged girls. She’s the image I understand the best because she is me. You don’t have to love her, and you don’t have to understand why she does the things she does, but I do hope you’ll see that she is just one shade on the spectrum of colors that make up our teenagers, and all of them are amazing in their own right.
Thank you Krystal Wade and Tamara Mataya for never letting me give up on Ever. EVADE is in the world because you two believe in me and accept Ever for her silly mistakes and inconsistency. I can’t imagine my journey without the two of you by my side. Aside from being the most incredible editor and critique partner out there, you two are beautiful friends.
Huge thanks to Kathleen Kubasiak for stripping EVADE down and asking the hard questions. You whipped this book around in a number of days, and I am forever grateful for you and your friendship. Not to mention your husband who continues to stop everything to help me with legal advice and remind me to think with my head, not always my heart. You’ll always be one of my favorite people to banter with, Trent. Now, if only you guys lived closer.
Mom, Jon, and Faith… I think you know how much I love you and value you, and well, if you don’t, I’m telling you now. I am who I am because of you, and I’m constantly growing because you challenge me and demand greatness.
Papa. You know, I dream about you all the time lately. It’s the strangest thing, and people may think I’m crazy, but I really think you’re guiding me in my journey, standing beside me as I learn and grow as a writer.
God, you know my heart and continue to bless me regardless of my flawed faith. Thank you for everything I have and everything I am.
And to you, the readers… I write not just because the need is too great to ignore, but for the moments that I touch your heart with my words. You make this bookish world go ’round, and I love you for your continued devotion to all things written.
And, if you’re Team Frankie, please don’t hate me.
Turn the page for a sneak peek at the brand new paranormal trilogy from New Adult author Caitlin Greer...
ParaWars: Uprising
Book 1 of the ParaWars Trilogy
A New Adult Novel
It’s always an odd thing, running through my neighborhood. The normalcy of before seems a strange backdrop to the difference of now. The buildings are a little more run down, the road unrepaired. But it’s still so much like it was before. Small towns stay small, I guess, even if the world has self-destructed. The grass still grows, and I still run to stay sane.
It’s been two years since the Paranormal Uprising.
My feet carry me past neighborhoods filled with humans and paras alike. We carved out a new life here in Greenbriar. I like it, but it makes me wonder what
it’s like elsewhere. If anyone else has tried to make it work, like we have. Judging by the guns we’ve heard in the distance, it doesn’t sound like it.
The main part of town passes behind me as I settle into the calming rhythm of my run. The thump-thump of my heartbeat. The pounding of my feet on the broken pavement. The in and out of my breathing. Running’s not glamorous, and I’m not good at it, but there’s a sense of release, of escape, an elation that it gives me, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not even chocolate, if we could still get it.
Well, maybe chocolate.
The buildings and people around me fade out and away, taking my thoughts with it. The air around me is heavy and muggy, even in early autumn, like the grey clouds above me are just waiting for the right moment to go. And I kind of wish it would rain. A good storm would clear the air, make it easier to breathe.
There’s a hint of thunder in the distance as my feet leave the pavement, and I smile, my feet crunching on the gravel in a noisy scritch, scritch as I head into the trees. Mom would kill me if she knew just how far I run, but I don’t care. The gravel lane that meanders into the woods has always been my hideaway, even before. It’s where my best friends and I would go to practice our lines for drama. It’s where Jamie Kelley gave me my first real kiss the night before Freshman year started. After the world fell into chaos and the governments imploded, and everyone left for destinations unknown, it became my sanctuary, my place to be alone.
It’s also where I first met Axel.
He dropped out of the stormy sky one day, like a great grey meteor. I’d just finished my run, and all I could do was watch as his wings pulled back, and he stood. All six feet plus of him. Gorgeous, living stone, looking like Michelangelo had stepped out of time and carved him there. Except for the tight black t-shirt, slightly fraying jeans, and black Doc Martens. Such a fascinating contradiction of animated sculpture and modern clothing.
