Ever (The Ever Trilogy)

by Jessa Russo

  This is bad, very bad. That silly little voice tried to warn me again. Shh.

  His arms were crossed, but the tightness in his muscles showed he was fit. He wasn’t bulky like someone who spent every waking moment in the gym lifting weights, but he was sculpted and lean like a swimmer. Matching the whole swimming notion, his skin was golden tanned.

  Unlike Frankie’s ghostly pallor. Damn. Frankie. What am I doing out here?

  My body was stuck in place as I intensely examined the new stranger, and it continued to be completely at odds with the cautionary voice in my head.

  He was gorgeous. Where Frankie was the all-American rockabilly musician type, always dreaming of the classic cars he’d never get to own, Toby was total badass, boots and all.

  Maybe the complete lack of a normal relationship had caused me to become this crazy person who stands outside, silently examining strangers. Maybe harboring my impossible feelings for a ghost for so long turned me into a socially inept freak. I didn’t know why, but I found myself really wanting to touch him.

  He leaned forward, like he was about to walk toward me, and startled me out of my examination of him. I stepped back a foot or so and realized my hand was outstretched in his direction. Oh my god! I’ve actually been reaching for him! I yanked my hand back to my side, hoping he hadn’t noticed, and cursed my own stupidity.

  Settling back against the tree, an amused smirk pulled at his face. Of course he’d noticed. He probably thought his new neighbor was a complete nutcase.

  I should say something to convince him otherwise.

  I couldn’t come up with anything. I stood there dumbstruck and unable to speak. Gah! I am a freak. But really, what could I say after such a ridiculous gesture as reaching out to touch a total stranger? It occurred to me, too late, that I could have pretended I was going for a handshake.

  Idiot.

  “Hey.”

  Oh geez, he was speaking to me. “Hey.”

  As he watched me, he obviously found amusement in my awkwardness. His smirk slowly curved into a full-blown smile.

  Fantastic.

  “I’m Toby. I just moved in next door.” He hitched a thumb in the direction of Frankie’s old house, and my stomach twisted ever so slightly.

  “Yeah. Cool.”

  Ah! I sound like such a tool!

  “And you are … ?”

  My eyes widened. “Oh. Sorry. I’m Ever.”

  His eyebrows drew together. “Ever? Like, ‘forever and ever‘?”

  “Yep. Just like that. It’s a nickname.” Shoot! Why had I said that? I knew he’d be tempted to ask what it was short for – people always were. Don’t ask. Don’t ask.

  “Oh yeah? That’s cool. What’s it short for?”

  Damn. Um … “My initials. E, V, V, R.”

  “Four initials, huh?”

  “Yeah, well, my last name is Van Ruysdael, so two for that.” Please don’t ask about my first name. I was relieved when he didn’t. Maybe he saw a silent warning in my wide eyes.

  “Cool. So what do you do for fun around here, Ever?”

  “Um.” I shrugged, trying to figure out what to say. Did I confess, and tell him that I stayed home a lot because I was secretly in love with my best-friend-turned-ghostly-roommate who was stuck inside my house? Probably not. At least, not if I wanted to keep the freak factor to a minimum. “I don’t know … there’s lots of stuff. The mall. The beach. Irvine Spectrum … .”

  “Can I take you out some time?”

  Oh. Well, that was unexpected. I ran my hands through my hair. I wanted so badly to say yes. I wanted so badly to escape my purgatory. Yet I felt so guilty for wanting that. My mouth opened, and for a second, I feared that the word might actually fly out against my better judgment. Yes.

  “No. I have a boyfriend.”

  Seriously? I lied instead of just saying yes and letting this hot new guy take me out? Wow. I actually was a freak. He cocked his head, and I swear I saw him look past me to my window as if he knew my “boyfriend” was actually right inside the house. I swallowed hard, hoping Frankie’s pale face wasn’t at the window.

  “Huh. Really? Well, that’s a bummer.”

  Toby stared at me a little longer than necessary, and I felt my heart rate increase before he shrugged casually and walked back toward Frankie’s house. His house. I swear Toby doubted me, though I couldn’t see how. There’s no way he could have known anything about me before today.

  “See ya ‘round, Ever,” he called over his shoulder as he retreated.

  I turned back to my house to see three faces shamelessly peering out the window. Below them, a fourth face, covered in fur, lost interest immediately and started staring down the street, probably looking for a rabbit to dream about chasing later. I noticed my mom’s wide eyes and enthusiastic smile, before she politely turned and pretended to be doing something else.

  Jessie had the biggest, most ridiculous grin on her face that I’d ever seen. Before I could even begin to make my way back inside, she was already making her way outside to pester me with the first of what I was sure would be a thousand questions. She’d been trying to convince me to get over my feelings for Frankie to no avail, so seeing me interact with someone else was probably the greatest thing in the world as far as Jessie was concerned.

  The other face, characteristically pale and translucent, looked even paler—as if he’d just seen a ghost. No pun intended. Frankie looked almost … broken. My heart pinched, and my stomach turned over. But why would he look that way? Why would he be … sad? Before I had much of a chance to ponder why Frankie would look so disappointed about me talking to the new neighbor, he quickly made his expression one of boredom then headed off to the back of the house. I’m pretty sure that was his way of avoiding me, though I’ll admit, I’m not sure why he needed to.

  Shaking my head at the absurdity of it all, my ridiculous guilt at the top of the list, I prepared to face Jessie, who was eager to pounce on me with her newscast-worthy interrogation.

  Finally in bed, I was unable to rest peacefully because I couldn’t stop thinking about Toby. And Frankie. And Frankie and Toby. They would rotate and twist, but they were both equally front and center in my brain, preventing me from my much desired sleep.

  I hadn’t seen Toby again all evening. I kept sneaking glances out the living room window, hoping for a glimpse of him, but nothing happened. At some point, the moving truck must have left, because when I looked outside a little after ten, the driveway was empty. I hadn’t seen Frankie again all night either.

  He was mad at me—that much I could tell—but I didn’t know why.

  Now, thanks to both of them, I was sick with guilt, my stomach in knots.

  But on the other hand, there was a spark of something I hadn’t felt in a very long time slowly forming inside of me.

  Anticipation.

  I tried to ignore it, without much luck. I had an intense curiosity building inside me, and I wanted to know everything there was to know about Toby. Of course, being the complete glutton for punishment that I am, my intense curiosity fueled my intense guilt, and I figured I’d never get to sleep again.

  Luckily, pondering all of my problems proved too boring to keep me awake, and sleep eventually found me. I woke up off and on throughout the night from terrifying nightmares. At some point, I changed out of my pajamas after waking up drenched, stripping off the flannel pants and t-shirt, and exchanging them for black and white checkered hipster panties and a black sports bra.

  This time, I was panting and scared, but like the dreams I’d had earlier in the night, I couldn’t remember a thing about what terrified me. Only the fear remained, relentlessly gripping me even after I opened my eyes and assessed my position on the floor.

  Sweating in a tangle of sheets and blankets, my toes were so cold they felt like they’d been soaking in ice. The strange combination made me feel clammy and gross, and I considered taking a shower. Gollum was nowhere to be found; obviously annoyed by my tossing and turni
ng, he must have left my room for the couch.

  The clock blinked in red, the annoying glare telling me it was 4:30 a.m. I leaned back against the frame of my bed and noticed Frankie sitting on the edge of the chair at my writing desk.

  I gasped.

  He sat with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped between them, watching me with both concern and … something else I couldn’t quite place.

  Regardless of my mom and dad’s rules about boys never being allowed in my room—even dead ones—Frankie was a welcome presence, and my heart lifted after the initial shock faded away. Guilt still tried to creep through my mind, and I figured that it must have been the cause of my troubled sleep. But with him there in front of me, I felt only relief. We silently stared at each other in the darkness for a long time while my breathing returned to normal.

  “What were you dreaming about, Doll?”

  “I … I don’t know,” I answered, shaking my head. “I can’t remember any of it.” I paused, wondering about something that had nothing to do with my nightmare, and added, “How long have you been in here, Frankie?”

  He stood and walked to the side of my bed, reaching out to help me up, even though he couldn’t actually make physical contact with me or my bedding, or really be of any help at all. Old habits are hard to ignore, even for a ghost. He clenched his fists and dropped them to his sides.

  “Not long. You were calling my name.”

  “Oh. I was?” Another thought occurred to me, and I wondered if he had a creepy ‘watch you while you sleep‘ thing going on, but I didn’t voice that part. “Do you come in here very often?”

  “No, Doll. Give me some credit, please. I’m not a three-hundred-year-old vampire with boundary issues.”

  I shook my head, unable to suppress my smile. I swore sometimes he read my mind, even though I knew that was impossible. Untangling myself from the sheets on the floor, I stood and stretched before I climbed back into bed. I paused at the sound of Frankie sucking in a quick breath.

  The noise registered in my mind as odd because I was well aware that ghosts don’t actually need to breathe. I turned to look at him, my eyebrows drawn together and head tilted in confusion—only to realize my lack of clothing was the cause of his sudden intake of breath. His eyes were glued to my chest, which was spilling out of my sports bra.

  My own breath caught in my throat as I looked down at myself. Almost all of me was exposed. Part of me felt self-conscious and vulnerable, but only for a second.

  My eyes found Frankie’s face again, and pushing aside my discomfort, I watched his gaze slowly travel over me. He seemed captivated by my lack of clothing, and took his sweet time before meeting my gaze. When I should have been flush with embarrassment, I wasn’t. Instead I was alive, on fire … and well, I don’t really know what I felt. Brazen. Bold. I was suddenly sure … and confident. The way Frankie’s eyes took me in made me feel like I was the most beautiful girl in the world. Was I imagining it? I watched him watch me slowly slide back into bed, his eyes lingering on me in a way I’d never seen him look at me before. Something thick and confusing lingered in the air between us. A desire that was just out of reach.

  You’re imagining this.

  I watched him for a few long seconds, holding my breath the entire time, wondering if he was also aware of the heated moment happening between us, or if the feelings were all my own. Was it just wishful thinking on my part? Was I imagining the heated look in his eyes because I wanted to see it there so badly?

  Once back in bed, and in spite of my lack of clothing, I found that I was feeling very calm with Frankie in my bedroom, as if his presence there wasn’t abnormal at all, and was just as it should be. The fear from my nightmare relented, and the strange intensity between us was slipping away, back to the safety of my harbored feelings for him. Frankie stood next to my bed like a protective guard, and I sighed, my eyes closing as I did so.

  He was my own personal guardian angel.

  Ever?”

  I slept like a rock the rest of the night, and I would have kept sleeping if not for my mom’s voice and a knock on my doorjamb. No more nightmares plagued me in the night, and upon opening my eyes, I found I was in exactly the same position in which I fell asleep. The only difference being that Frankie no longer stood guard.

  Frankie! My gaze darted to my mom in the open doorway as I panicked that she’d catch Frankie in my room. A quick glance around showed me I was alone, and I fell back on the pillow in short-lived relief. My cheeks flared up with embarrassment as my next realization popped into my mind: my overly exposed body and the fact that Frankie had seen me almost naked during the night. Oh, wow. What came over me? If he had still been here and seen me like this, in the daytime, I would have freaked.

  “I’m sorry I scared you, honey, but are you going to sleep all day, sleepy head?”

  “Hey, Mom. Sorry. I guess I’m just a little tired.” Frankie was in my room all night, I thought, my cheeks slightly flushing. Like it mattered. Like anything could have happened between us anyway. Ugh, I seriously needed to get a life. Or a real boyfriend. Preferably both.

  Mom went straight for the window, and I braced myself as she purposely blinded me with the late-morning sun—which she proceeded to point out, was already very high in the sky, thank you very much. Content that she’d blinded me enough to get my butt out of bed, she wasted no time going straight into all the details she’d learned about the new family next door while I’d been sleeping all day. Her words, not mine. Eleven was by no means all day, especially on a Saturday when I had no work or school to attend.

  She followed me around as I went through my morning routine, occasionally trying in vain to shoo Gollum—who had returned sometime in the early hours of the morning—off my bed, and talking incessantly.

  She continued talking as I grabbed my bikini and a sundress, and the only peace I was able to obtain was during my ten-minute shower, and only then because I practically pushed her out of the bathroom. Although, if I know my mom, she may have continued talking long after I closed the door in her face.

  After I dressed, I replaced my towel on the hook and opened the door to hear she hadn’t missed a beat. I was right about the talking going on while I’d been showering. As I brushed my teeth and braided my hair, I barely registered what she was saying because my mind was so jumbled with thoughts. Once done in the bathroom, she followed me back into the bedroom and absently picked up around my room while I checked my emails.

  “… and the dad. You should hear Sharon go on about him! Apparently he’s quite the looker. She couldn’t stop raving about him. She kept saying, ‘Oohwee, if I was single!’”

  Ugh. This was so not the conversation I wanted to be having right now. No offense to Sharon, but hearing about how hot my mom’s friend thinks Toby’s dad is doesn’t rank very high on my meter of important facts. On top of that, talking about Toby’s dad was doing absolutely nothing to reduce my thoughts of Toby, throwing him right back to the forefront of my mind. My mom rambled on for a few more minutes, completely oblivious to the glazed look in my eyes. I was only catching bits and pieces of the one-sided conversation going on around me.

  “… no idea where the mom is … Sharon says she just up and left one day … the dad’s a traveling salesman, so they move a lot … or wait, maybe she said he was military … oh I can’t remem—”

  “Mom, you know Sharon’s a gossip and a busy-body.”

  She continued right through my interruption, as if I hadn’t even spoken aloud. But that was typical too—she loved Sharon, gossip mill or not. I was taking my boots to the closet when she finally said something that warranted my attention. My full attention.

  “… and when he came over this morning, he was so polite! Oh, Ever, I just know you two will hit it off! And for him to bring you flowers!”

  Um, what? I’m pretty sure I actually heard my jaw hit the floor. Oh wait, that was my boots hitting the floor with a thud. Whatever, it could have been my mouth.
>
  “… seems like a really nice boy … Dad will want to know more about him, I’m sure, but …”

  “Mom, stop. What did you just say?”

  “Hmm? Oh, I was saying that of course Dad will want to meet him, and …”

  “No, no, no. Before that. He was here? At the house?”

  Frankie.

  “Oh! That! Yes, silly, don’t you listen to anything I say?” She glanced over at me and shook her head before continuing, pulling a chunk of her dark waves behind her ear. “He came by earlier this morning with some flowers for you and some jelly filled croissants for Dad and me. They were store bought of course, but it’s the thought that counts. And really, we should have been bringing a welcome gift to them, but they moved in only yesterday, and frankly, it hadn’t even occurred to me yet … .”

  I was already out the door and down the hall, running for the front half of the house.

  “Ever! He’s gone now, honey! That was hours ago!”

  The flowers were sitting on the kitchen table, staring at me with their big black eyes.

  White petals with black centers.

  Anemones.

  He knew my favorite flower. How did he know my favorite flower? The coincidence was more than strange. Anemones aren’t your average ‘run to the store and pick up some flowers’ variety. Roses? Sure. That would have made sense, even if they’d been a little formal and kind of creepy. Daisies? Absolutely. A mixed springtime arrangement of colorful blooms wrapped in plastic? Yup. Definitely.

  But not black and white anemones.

  “Ever, honey, I know he’s cute and all, but I wasn’t done with my story!” My mom entered the kitchen behind me. “He said that he and his dad were leaving for the day. Returning the moving truck or something.” She paused, looking off into space with an almost dreamy-eyed look on her face. “Can you believe he brought your favorite flower? Amazing.”