by Sky Chase
I didn’t really remember what it was like before Everest came. It was funny to know so much about someone and have them know nothing about you.
Everest turned the steering wheel, his jaw slightly clenched.
“You honestly think I’m going to get better?” he whispered, eyes still set on the road.
“I know you will,” I said.
He stopped at a red light. “Are you going to tell me where you live now?”
I didn’t want him to know where I lived. Not because I didn’t trust him or anything, but because I was embarrassed. I lived in a run-down apartment with two bedrooms. It couldn’t compare with his mansion. Our kitchen faucet didn’t even work sometimes, while he had a beautiful sculptured fountain in front of his house.
I mumbled incoherently. I looked out the window and concentrated on the sky. It was a mix of purplish blue tonight.
“Come on, Bev.”
I hid my oncoming smile at the use of his nickname for me. Maybe it was the way he called me Bev, or maybe it was because he was doing that side-smile, I didn’t know. All I knew was that I caved. I told him my address and hoped I hadn’t made the wrong decision.
“This it?” he asked when he pulled into the parking lot. He glanced around the area and I expected him to snort, but he didn’t say anything. His eyes scanned all around, to the shoes hanging above on the telephone wire to the plastic bag slowly dragged against its will by the gentle wind. I wanted to get out of the car before he thought poorly of me. I opened the door in a rush, but a not-too-obvious rush.
“Bye, Ev,” I chirped quickly, but as soon as my feet hit the concrete, he grabbed my arm.
I guessed it was pretty obvious.
“Hold up Speedy Gonzales—do you want me to walk you up?”
I chuckled. “No, I’m fine.”
I watched as he unclipped his seat belt, turned off the car, and pulled out his keys out of the ignition. What was he doing?
He climbed out of the car and shut the door behind him. The sound of his heavy footsteps came around the car and in my direction.
“What are you doing?” I asked slowly.
“I’m walking you up,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“But I just said—”
“I know.”
“So, basically you asked me . . . but I really had no say in the matter?” I asked, confused.
“Basically. But I wanted you to feel like you had a choice.” There went that smirk. “Lead the way, Ms. Davis,” he laughed softly. I wondered what his real laugh sounded like—the one that he was constantly fighting.
I walked up the ancient concrete steps, the paint chipped from age. Everest walked behind me, his Doc Martens practically slamming down with each step.
As we approached my door, I turned to face Everest. “I want you to know that you were absolutely amazing tonight. I had no clue.” Everest’s big blue-green eyes stared at me intently, and a half smile hung from his lips. “Lily said you’re welcome to play anytime you’d like.”
“Seriously?” he asked incredulously.
“Yeah, she wanted me to tell you.” I smiled, watching his reaction. It would be great if Everest was at 21 Daisies—to have my only friend there.
Just then his smiled dropped. “I’ll think about it.”
I wondered why his mood changed so quickly. “Just give it some thought,” I said quickly. “You made everyone feel something tonight. You sang from your soul, and that was just about the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He stared at me for a second and then chuckled. “You need to get out more.”
“Laugh all you want, but I know it felt good to get your emotions out that way,” I told him. “I saw your smile, Everest. I don’t know. It was . . . s-something special. I know you were happy in that moment.”
He looked at the floor outside my door.
“When was the last time you were really happy?” I asked curiously.
“You’re going to think it’s stupid.”
“No I won’t, Scout’s honor.” I twisted my fingers.
“Were you even a Scout?” he asked.
“No,” I answered with a chuckle.
“Okay, I was ten. I was over at my grandma’s house, and she made this fort with me. It was the craziest fort too—it stretched from one end of the hall and into the living room. My gram even put Christmas lights all through the tunnels of blankets, so it was easier to see. She baked brownies and watched Disney movies with me that night.” The faint dimple in his left cheek made an appearance.
“That’s actually really cute.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, snapping out of his daze. “Good night, Bev.”
He abruptly turned to leave, but I didn’t miss the boyish smile on his face.
The next day at school, I didn’t expect Everest to approach me at my locker. I actually didn’t expect him to acknowledge me with the exception of the library or outside of school. He wore a beanie today, and I thought it looked really nice.
“Can I come over your apartment today?” he asked me, completely oblivious to everyone staring at us.
His voice echoed in the background, and eyes zoned in us. I’d been in the shadows for so long, but I’d imagined what it would feel like to have all the attention on me. The feeling was surreal.
“Bev?” Everest said, waving his hand in front of my face, trying to gain my attention.
“Everyone is staring,” I whispered. He turned his head to look at the curious eyes before he shrugged.
“So?” he said nonchalantly. But he was used to the stares; I wasn’t.
He stood in front of me, blocking the eyes and hushed whispers. “Do you think I could come over today?” he asked again.
I was a little caught off guard—why my apartment? It didn’t have arcades or a home theater. “Sure . . .”
“Give me your phone. I’ll text you when I’m coming.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the latest iPhone. I groaned inwardly—of course Everest would have the most high-tech gadget.
I dug in my bag, fighting my embarrassment, and pulled out my phone. It wasn’t even a touch screen. I had put a butterfly sticker over the low-budget logo, but it was still pretty obvious. Even though I had a job, I’d been saving up for college. And it wasn’t like I had any friends to talk to, so a top-notch phone wasn’t high on my priorities.
When I handed him my phone, his bottom lip instantly pulled into his mouth.
“I know. It’s bad,” I said.
“No, no, it’s not bad.” He held it between his fingers, examining it, his lips fighting against an amused expression. “Does it still work?”
“Ha, ha, ha,” I said sarcastically, and grabbed the phone out of his grasp. “And for the record, it works like a charm.”
He laughed louder than he usually did, but still not to his full potential. “I like the butterfly sticker.”
“I’ll see you later,” I said as I pushed passed him playfully, scurrying to class, hoping not to be late.
I took my usual seat in French class and pulled out my notes, waiting for the teacher to begin.
“So, are you new?” Martha, a cheerleader from Cara’s clique, asked as she approached my desk.
I couldn’t find any words—the answer was on the tip of my tongue but wasn’t strong enough to pull through with the message.
“N-No,” I stuttered.
She flicked her glossy brown hair over her shoulder, a snarky, sly look on her face. “Really? I know everyone, and yet I don’t know you.”
I looked around the room for some form of help, but everyone just watched. The teacher, busy checking email, hadn’t even looked up from her screen. “Yeah . . .” I responded, feeling uncomfortable.
“Hey, Martha! Your extension fell out,” Nami shouted across the ro
om, and Martha immediately looked at the ground.
“Made you look,” Nami laughed, and Tiffany, on her opposite side, was also cackling. People started to join in, and I was relieved the attention was off of me. That wasn’t the kind of attention I wanted.
Martha huffed away, her manicured nail flicking off Nami. Today was the first day I was acknowledged by someone other than Everest.
14
Everest
Confession: I worry too much about there not being enough time that I end up wasting it.
—CF, November 22, 1998
I was starting to run out of cigarettes so I stopped by the Basement. Mikey offered me a blunt, but I didn’t want it. The last time I smoked weed, I couldn’t even remember my name.
“I saw you talking to that black girl today,” Aurora said, attempting to start a conversation.
“You go to school?” I asked, dodging the question.
“Only when Mikey goes,” she laughed.
“You guys are a thing?” I asked, taking a quick shot of vodka. Only one shot, though, because I was going over to Beverly’s today.
Mikey took a seat next to me on the couch. The long part of his dark-brown hair was thrown up in a small man bun.
“We hooked up a few times, but we aren’t, like, exclusive,” he explained nonchalantly, shoulders shrugging.
Aurora’s face was pure disappointment, but when she saw that I noticed, she picked up a beer bottle and drank.
“Did you and Cara break up? Or are you guys taking a break? Because I hate to be the one to break it to you, bro, but she and Nash are getting pretty close.” It didn’t matter if the two of them were getting close—Nash was gay. But of course, I wouldn’t tell anyone that. I shrugged.
“I don’t care.”
Mikey nodded his head and puffed on the joint.
On the drive to Beverly’s, I thought about Cara, wondering if she ever thought of me, or if she missed me at all. Did Nash feel guilty for unfriending me when I needed a friend the most?
I wasn’t going to sit here and lie. It sucked knowing that my suspicions were true; that Nash and Cara never really cared about me.
I pulled into Bev’s lot and realized I hadn’t sent her a text that I was coming. Sitting in my car, I typed the note quickly, giving her time to do whatever. My vehicle was starting to smell like Beverly, and I honestly didn’t know how I felt about that.
Ten minutes later she replied with an okay. I didn’t know if she was just busy or if her phone signal sucked. I was going to go with the latter because her phone had been around since prehistoric times. I waited for a bit longer before I made my way to her door and knocked once. She opened it in a hurry.
Beverly’s demeanor was flustered, her hair shaking from her quick movement, and her eyes slightly wide.
“Hi.” She smiled, and her voice breathy.
I couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her frazzled look. “Hey.”
The warmth from her apartment crept upon my chilled face. A whiff of something sweet filled my nose, and I wanted to find out what it was. Beverly stared at me intently, my gray hoodie still keeping her body warm. I’d kind of forgotten about it. I should get it from her later today.
“So, you going to let me in?” I asked, amused.
“Oh yeah, sorry.” She pulled the door open wider.
A tunnel. Tunnels made of blankets. I looked at Beverly, speechless.
“W-What is this?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“It’s a fort so epic that it wraps all around my apartment,” she said excitedly. “I had to hurry up since you came so early, and the cookies are still in the oven. So if we want them to watch with our movies, you are going to have to crawl through the tunnel to get them.”
I couldn’t. My brain refused to form coherent thoughts. Why would someone do all this just to see me happy? She’d re-created my happiest moment, and I didn’t know how to take it.
Too many emotions ran through me, and all I could do was laugh. I must have looked crazy, but I didn’t worry about that anymore. Because I was crazy. I laughed and laughed, and Beverly just stood there.
“You all right?” She raised an eyebrow.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to contain myself, but I couldn’t. All the holding it in, it was now coming out, like a broken dam gushing water.
“I’m going to go and check on the cookies, since you can’t stop laughing,” she teased, then disappeared under the blankets.
Tears hit my cheeks and I wanted to punch something. I really needed to pull myself together because I was freaking myself out. Laughing and crying? Really, dude? I literally laughed so hard I cried.
“Get a grip.” I said it two more times.
Straightening myself up, I climbed under. There were Christmas lights lining the fort just like I had told her. I touched them gently, and smiled.
“In here!” she called from the opposite direction from what I would imagine would be her living room.
This fort was huge. It wasn’t too low or too high—it was perfect. Beverly lay on a pile of pillows surrounded by a laptop and DVD cases. There were bowls of popcorn and the plate of chocolate chip cookies. I turned my head to follow the smell coming from a plate of pizza rolls sitting on a pillow.
“C’mon, do you want to watch Toy Story or Finding Nemo first?”
I crawled closer and glanced around. The lights, the movies, the snacks. “Why did you do this for me?”
She sat up on her elbows and said: “You’ve been sad for too long. I wanted to do something and show you that it’s okay to be happy, so this is your reminder. Now shut up and enjoy it.”
“Thank you, Bev, this is . . . this is great.” I meant every word.
This wasn’t just great; this was amazing. She was amazing.
“It was really nothing,” Beverly said. “Now sit back and enjoy it, my friend.”
I really didn’t want to watch The Little Mermaid, but Beverly told me it was one of her favorites so we put it on, and it actually was pretty good.
Suddenly, I was ten again and my grandmother had cheeks budding like roses, and her hair was a towering mess of gray and blond. The same color of rose on her lips left a print on my forehead for my mom to scrub off later.
I glanced at my phone and it was only eight thirty. Beverly didn’t have work today so I knew she didn’t have to go in, but I did wonder where her family was.
“When do your parents come home?” I asked. The last thing I wanted was for her parents to catch me under the blankets with their daughter.
She picked up the plates and bowls, and said, “My mom won’t be home for a long time and my dad won’t be coming at all because he died when I was small.”
“Hey, I’m sorry.” I bit my lip nervously. “So, what do you want to do now? Want to put in another movie?”
“It’s okay, it’s been a long time. Let’s take a little movie break,” she suggested as she crawled away toward the kitchen.
While she was gone, I lay on my back and stared at the star-hemmed blanket at the top. I smiled knowing that Beverly had strategically put it there.
“That’s my favorite,” Beverly said, and I didn’t even know she had already come back.
“It’s a nice blanket,” I said.
She crawled closer to me, then lay on her back and stared at it, side by side with me. Her swirls of hair tickled the side of my arm.
“When I was younger, I used to think the moon followed me.” She tugged on one of her curls. “I remember thinking that I was special because something so beautiful and bright wanted to be with me. It could have gone anywhere it wanted, but it was with me.”
She continued, “I wanted to follow the moon, I actually wanted to be it . . . I know I’m sounding looney.”
I knew what it was like to be in awe. “When I was aro
und six or seven, I was obsessed with my dad. I used to put on his shoes and his ties the best way I could, and pretend I was him,” I told her, but don’t ask me why because I honestly didn’t even know anymore.
“That’s cute,” she said, laughing, but I thought otherwise. My dad had paid me no attention, but even then I wanted him to notice me.
“I have very faint memories of my father. Just a few flashes but they don’t really mean anything,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “I think I liked him, though.”
I looked at her and instantly felt bad.
“What happened?” Maybe I was stepping beyond boundaries here, but the question came out as a thought.
“Car crash when I was four. My parents were young—way too young to have a child on their hands. My mom told me she met my dad at a party, and he was the most charismatic person she knew. He loved to party, and their relationship moved so fast. But they were in love. So I guess that kinda makes up for the speed at which they went. She wanted him to slow down when I was born, but he was a free spirit, and I guess there’s no slowing down a free spirit. Car racing at a party went wrong and he was gone.”
I stared at her, and now I understood why she hid. She didn’t want to be reckless and young, because of the risks. She’d rather sit in a library behind a book than go to a party. She needed to get out of her shell, and I was going to be the one to help her do it.
“I think we should watch Monsters, Inc. now,” I said.
“I’ll pop more popcorn.” Beverly rolled over to get up.
“Can you make pizza rolls too?” I asked as she was crawling away.
Her head turned toward me, an amused expression playing upon her features. “You have an unhealthy obsession, Ev. Another plate of pizza rolls coming right up.”
I had a lot of problems, but pizza rolls were certainly not one.
15
Beverly
The sound of my phone ringing jolted me awake. We must have fallen asleep during the last movie. Rubbing my eyes, I tried figure out where I was. Groping blindly in the direction of the ringing, I answered.
