Never (The Ever Series Book 2) (20 page)

My fifth period independent study class has turned out to be a great time to get ahead on my homework, and I’m feeling less nervous about catching up now. But when the bell for sixth period rings, I groan internally. I really liked ending the day at Springview with English and History. My last class here is Chemistry with Mrs. Dewan. As I sit down at my lab station, I glance at my seatmate and suddenly put two and two together. She’s the blonde girl who was watching Alex with rapt attention in the cafeteria the day before. Great.

“Hey,” she says. “You’re Rhonda, right?”

I smile.

“Wren actually. Kayla, right?”

“Did you just transfer?” she asks.

I nod.

“You know that guy you’ve been sitting with at lunch?”

“You know him?” I ask curiously.

She frowns.

“You don’t? I thought you guys, like, came here together or something.”

“Wait. He doesn’t go here?” I mumble in confusion.

She shakes her head.

“I never saw him before this week. I was hoping you knew something about him …”

And that you aren’t going out with him
, she thinks. I swallow.

“Um, I just met him. His name’s Alex. … That’s all I know.”

How’d she get so lucky
?

I look down, annoyed at myself for reading her thoughts. Funny, I don’t feel lucky. When Mrs. Dewan starts going over the details for today’s lab, I face forward and pretend like I haven’t already done the same one in Mr. Van Houten’s class. At the bell, Kayla turns and asks if I want to have lunch with her and her friends tomorrow.

“Sure. Is it okay if I invite Alex?”

“Uh, yeah!”

Walking from class, all I can think is:
Uh, yeah
, I totally wasn’t the intended recipient of her invitation. Oh, well.

On the drive to my dad’s house, I think about what my lab partner said—about Alex appearing in school the same day as I did. My skin prickles, but I refuse to get so paranoid that I think some guy I never saw before a week ago moved to Laguna Niguel just to stalk me. Parking at the curb, I go inside and change into my workout clothes. I’m still sketched out by yesterday’s parade of weirdo creepers, but that’s even more of a reason to get out for some exercise. I want to be able to
outrun
them if necessary. Looking down at my phone, I reach over and type out
I miss you
to my mom, but I stop just short of pressing send.

Going down the hall into the kitchen, I open the refrigerator and take out some coconut water, which might be the only dietary preference I share with Jessica. Finishing it in a few gulps, I walk outside and continue to the end of the cul-de-sac before easing into a slow jog. When I take a right on Crown Valley Parkway, I pick up the pace a little. I purposely didn’t bring my music, and every time a car comes up behind me I make sure that it’s not slowing down. It only takes about fifteen minutes before I reach the coast highway, so I’m guessing I’ve gone about a mile and a quarter.

On the jog back, I debate whether running away from things was the right thing to do. But I keep coming back to the same conclusion: there was no other choice. I couldn’t live in the same house with my mom knowing she didn’t really want me there. It wouldn’t be fair to either one of us.

Later in the evening when my dad comes home, I look up from my spot on the carpet in the living room where I’ve been doing homework and watching Ben after Jessica disappeared into their bedroom. I’m not surprised to see he’s carrying two bags of takeout food. As he puts down his briefcase and scoops up Ben in his free hand, I trail behind him into the kitchen. Moments later, Jessica appears from the master bedroom reeking of perfume. She’s attaching a pair of gaudy earrings.

“Oh! Tom, didn’t I tell you I have book club tonight? We’re going for Mexican.”

She air kisses his cheek and picks up a giant purse that looks like it’s meant for an ogress.

“Ben’s had dinner! I’ll be back in a few hours!” she calls as she walks toward the garage. “’Bye, Wrennie!”

Going to the cupboard, I pull out a couple of plates, relieved I won’t have to sit through Jessica’s retelling of her day of shopping and spa appointments. My dad arranges Ben in the high chair and then sits down across from me.

“How’s school?”

I think of the almost-fight I witnessed, the fact that I’ve been having lunch with my stalker—and that the only reason my lab partner invited me to sit with her tomorrow is because she thinks it’s the best way to get to my stalker. Nope, nope, and nope. Nothing to tell there.

“Fine. All my teachers gave me extensions to catch up.”

“Have you talked to your mom?”

I look up at him and swallow.

“No.”

I wait for him to tell me that I should call her, but he doesn’t. I start telling him about the trip to Aliso over the weekend and my attempt to get to West Street Beach—leaving out the part where I got chased by drunken lunatics. He frowns.

“West Street? Didn’t you nearly drown there when you were a little kid?”

I nod and take a bite of my stir-fry.

“The cove is really pretty.”

“Yeah, well remember there’s a bad rip current. Be careful if you go out there by yourself. The lifeguards don’t come on ’til Memorial Day.”

When we’re done with dinner and I’ve cleaned up, I go to my room and find several more shopping bags lined up next to the door. Taking them, I stack them in the closet with the others. I sigh. Jessica, methinks, has a serious problem. I spend a few minutes organizing my school stuff. Then, since I’m pretty much caught up on homework, I shower and brush my teeth. As soon as I’m in my pajamas, I prop myself up in bed and pick up my book. But I only manage to read a few chapters before I start feeling sleepy. I keep reading anyway.

Opening my eyes, I look down at the book, which has slid onto the comforter. The lamp on the nightstand is on, which means I must have drifted off. Reaching for my phone to see what time it is, my eyes travel to the chair sitting in front of the glass desk across the room. My breath hitches at the sight of someone sitting perfectly still less than ten feet from me. Without the overhead light, I can’t see much—only his otherworldly green eyes and a halo of golden hair. Several seconds pass with us staring at one another before it occurs to me that I
should
scream.

But I don’t, because I’m transfixed by the sight of this creature. He’s beautiful, impossibly so. When I finally blink and my eyes refocus, he’s gone. I shake my head. Was it a dream? I sit for several minutes wondering if I’m going insane before deciding that it had to be a dream. A
really
realistic dream. I reach over and switch off my lamp. When I wake up in the morning, I stare warily at my surroundings. I’m alone, and in the daylight, I can see the small window on the opposite wall is impenetrable from outside without breaking the glass, which remains perfectly intact.

I shake my head. My dreams are usually weird, but I don’t ever remember them being so beautiful before.

It makes me wonder, though. Rather than making up something, why didn’t my brain just conjure Alex’s image? He’s certainly dream worthy. Then again, I’m glad. Dreaming about him would complicate the whole
just friends
thing. And complicated is the last thing I need.

At school, when I get to French, I have another pang of homesickness. I liked Mrs. Gilbert. My new French teacher is snippy and takes every little mispronunciation like it’s a personal offense. However, I like my new Algebra teacher Mr. Dennis, since he actually takes the time to explain each lesson. But I would take Mr. Bellarmine back in a heartbeat if it meant going back to Portland.

When the bell rings for lunch, my pulse spikes at the thought of seeing Alex again, which is so
not
good. Walking into the lunch area, I look around and see him at his table. He looks up and smiles at me when I stop beside him and then gestures to the empty seat across from him. I shake my head, and he frowns.

“Are you having another brat from hell episode?” he asks playfully.

I shake my head.

“Not today. Come on. We’re having lunch with your fan club.”

He doesn’t move, so I go over and grab his hand. The resulting shock of electricity reminds me what a bad idea physical contact is.

“Only because you asked,” he says, rising, but not releasing my hand.

I pull away and start looking for my lab partner. I spot her, mostly because she’s waving furiously.

“I
had
been enjoying our alone time.”

“Seriously? Are you sulking? I’m doing you a favor! This school is swarming with girls dying to meet you.”

“And I’ve already met the only one I want to meet.”

I spin around and smile crookedly at him.

“Don’t tease me. It’s not nice.”

“I’m not.”

When I see the serious expression on his face, I look down.

“Well, I’ve got issues, so—”

“As do I.”

Looking at his beautiful face—and the completely serious expression on it, I’m suddenly irate.

“Oh my God! That does not make us a good match, you lunatic.”

“No, it makes us a
perfect
match.”

“That is just wrong … on so many levels,” I seethe.

I turn and keep walking quickly. When I reach Kayla’s table, I take the end seat, leaving Alex nowhere to sit except across from his new fan and two of her friends. He shoots me a dirty look as he sits down, and I shrug, watching as my lab partner immediately begins peppering him with questions. I try not to pay attention, but every time he says something, I get the distinct feeling that nothing coming out of his mouth is the truth. He mentions moving around a lot, but I decide it’s not a good idea to fixate on him. The only way to do that is by distracting myself, so I turn to the guy from my U.S. History class.

“Hey, you have Kahn second period, right?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Wren.”

“Chris.”

His eyes shift toward Alex and the growing fan club at the end of the table.

“Are you ready for the AP test?” I ask.

“Not really,” he shrugs.

I smile and look down, trying to think of something else to say. I had every intention of trying to be moderately sociable today, but this guy isn’t helping. I glance over at Alex. He’s staring at me like,
See, I was right
, and I can’t help thinking about the fact that I can’t get a normal guy to even look at me. Not that I care really. Looking back at Chris, I don’t feel the slightest flicker of interest. I imagine he feels the same about me, which makes us even.

“So, are you going to the dance on Saturday?” Kayla asks Alex.

Chris suddenly turns to me with renewed interest.

“What about you?”

I smirk. Well,
hello, Jeff Summers
. I’ve been down this road before, and I don’t need somebody using me to get attention. I shake my head.

“We are, in fact,” Alex says.

Absorbing that he just said
we
, I look at Alex and then at Kayla, wondering who looks more shocked—Kayla or me. Fantastic. Right after I told her that I don’t know Alex, here he is acting like we’re old friends … or something else. He’s crazier than I thought. My heart pounds, and the second the bell rings for sixth, I jump up and storm toward the doors. I make it to my locker only seconds before Alex arrives next to me.

“Are you trying to make things overly complicated?” I demand.

“No, I’m trying to ask a girl to a dance.”

I scowl up at him.

“Would you like a list of reasons why that’s not a good idea?”

“You can read it to me on Saturday night.”

He starts walking away, and I feel a brief urge to run after him and strangle him.

“Yeah, well I don’t have a dress, so—sorry!” I call after him.

He looks back at me and smiles.

“Taken care of.”

Exasperated, I stalk toward Chemistry, dreading my lab partner. Not surprisingly, when I get to class, she doesn’t look happy to see me.

“Hey, look,” I start. “I know Alex was thinking we could go as a group, because he didn’t ask me.”

And, technically, he didn’t
ask
. And I
didn’t
say yes.

“Oh, yeah. I figured,” she says huffily.

“I wasn’t actually going to go in the first place …” I mumble.

“Do you even have a dress?” she asks.

I shrug. I feel like I’m getting hunted by this freaking dance. And Alex
is
making things complicated. But it doesn’t matter. At this point, I refuse to get involved in anyone else’s drama, which means I’ll be leaving Alex to do his own one-man act.

I
’m relying on something terrible to save me from Saturday’s dance. World destruction or mass hysteria, maybe. At least that’s what happened right before Springview’s dance, I think bitterly. I have a hazy memory of being really excited about the dance, which makes zero sense.

Dancing in public has always represented mortal embarrassment to me. Sure, if I had gone to the dance at Springview I would have gotten the chance to hang out with my friends, but I could have done that at school or any other time without humiliation being the central theme. I comfort myself by remembering that even if disaster doesn’t give me an excuse to skip this dance, I can still back out, seeing as Alex will have more than enough female attention to keep him company.

When I get to lunch on Thursday, I sit at Kayla’s table with her friends and I do a pretty good imitation of a normal high school student while watching most of the girls drool over Alex. He really is remarkably perfect looking. In fact, the more I look at him, the more he stands out against the backdrop of the rest of us mere mortals, like he’s glowing. I’m not going to tell him this, of course. What’s the point in inflating his ego, which is currently being fed by a group of giggling girls? When he gets up and sits down next to me, I lean toward him and cup my hand to his ear.

“Needed a break from your worshippers?” I whisper jokingly.

As I lean away, he grasps my hand under the table and doesn’t release it for several seconds. By the time he finally lets go, my cheeks are hot and my breathing is a little choppy. He leans closer and tilts his head toward mine. When I feel his lips at my ear, I shiver.

“I’m only here to be closer to you.”

I pull away from him and don’t say anything, because arguing doesn’t work with him. Instead, I get up. I need water and space. Part of my brain is screaming at me to ignore reality and just give in. So what if his fixation on me of all people doesn’t make sense? And if I’ve accidentally entered into some parallel universe, why not just enjoy it? I can’t do it, though. Because I can tell it will only cause me pain.

After refilling my water bottle, I return to the table and squeeze in next to Chris. His behavior, at least, I can understand. His thoughts, at least, I can read. And just looking at him doesn’t make my heart bump in my chest and cause my breathing to speed up. I glance at Alex to confirm that just one look into his crystal blue eyes makes my chest tighten.

By Friday, I decide to avoid the whole thing, and when the lunch bell rings, I don’t look for Alex, and I avoid Kayla’s table. When I find a quiet corner, I sit down on the ground against the wall. Eating intermittent bites of an awful chicken salad sandwich, I pull out my book. The plot has taken a turn I wasn’t expecting. The spy and his love interest have just escaped some plot for world domination. But she’s wounded. A couple of pages ago, I was confident that she was going to survive for the happy ending. Now I’m not so sure.

“Deserter.”

I look up and see Alex smirking down at me.

“You left me to fend for myself,” he accuses.

“I left you to enjoy unadulterated adulation.”

“I stand corrected, then. Unadulterated adulation? Quite. And
now
who’s using SAT words?”

I smile.

“I suck at math, so I had to go with my strength. I keep a vocabulary builder on my desk.”

He nods and picks up my backpack. When he holds out his hand, I scowl at him.

“What?” I demand.

“You’re coming with me,” he says.

“Um, no. That depends on where you’re going.”

“I have something for you.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“A surprise.”

My heart rate picks up.

“No offense, but I don’t like surprises.”

“No trust,” he chides.

After a moment’s hesitation, I’m finally curious enough to hold out my hand, and he lifts me a little too easily into a standing position. I study him surreptitiously. He’s well built—I blush even admitting this to myself—but he doesn’t look freakishly muscle-bound. When he gestures for me to follow him, I do, reluctantly. At the administrative offices, I cringe as I see a teacher walking straight toward us. She looks directly at Alex and doesn’t say a thing as we walk off school grounds right in front of her. So much for a closed campus. At the student parking lot, I shake my head.

“You never get caught at anything, do you?”

“Do you want to know the secret to getting away with things?” he asks cheerfully. “It’s not feeling guilty.”

“Oh,” I half-laugh. “Well,
I
feel guilty, so we should have gotten caught by now. What are we doing in the parking lot anyway? You know we can’t leave during lunch, right?”

“We’re not leaving. I’m simply giving you something.”

He stops in front of a midnight blue sedan. I don’t recognize the emblem immediately, but I can tell that the car is ridiculously expensive.

“Who are you?” I gulp, remembering what my new lab partner said about him showing up at school on Monday—like me. “And what are you doing here—really?”

“I am someone with a large fortune and very little happiness to show for it,” he says.

I sigh.

“You know, I’ve got plenty of my own issues, so I’m not going to push it. Someday, though, you’re going to have to tell me the truth, or this friendship thing isn’t going to work anymore.”

“Fair enough. Then I will ask you a question someday and expect the truth,” he says somberly.

Staring back at him and seeing nothing but his perfectly blue eyes, I wonder which one of us has the bigger secret. As the trunk of the car opens, I look down and see a garment bag lying inside. Alex takes it out and unzips it. I flinch at the sight of a black dress with a sweetheart neckline. It looks expensive, and I’m already shaking my head.

“Absolutely not! I can’t accept this. We barely know each other, remember?”

He laughs.

“Wren, this isn’t a marriage proposal. It’s a dress. Give it back to me at the end of the night, burn it, donate it to a worthy cause if you don’t want it after Saturday. Whatever you wish. Now, where is your car?”

I nod toward the other side of the parking lot and start walking. When we stop in front of my car, Alex laughs.

“What?” I snap.

“Nothing. It’s just that when we first met, I expected you to drive a cute little automatic.”

“Huh. Thanks. I’ll bet I drive stick better than you do, stalker man.”

Oops. Blushing, I remember the fact that I showed off my great driving skills when I flooded the engine right before Alex magically appeared and saved from those two Neanderthals at the beach. Without another word, I open the trunk and watch as Alex lays down the dress. Then, from his other hand, he produces a shoebox.

“The glass slippers,” he smiles.

“You don’t know my size.”

“Stalker, remember?” he says, placing the box in the trunk.

The bell rings, and we begin walking back toward the school.

“However, assuming it won’t earn me any points if I use my vast talents as a stalker to show up at your house without ever having been there, I will need your address,” Alex says.

I gesture for him to hand me his phone.

“Here, I’ll put the address in your phone.”

“Tell me. I’ll remember.”

I recite my dad’s address and wobble as the ground beneath shudders. Alex grasps my elbow and steadies me. Recovering from the shock—of his touch and the earthquake—I laugh.

“I guess that’s my official welcome back to So Cal.”

I look at Alex and feel my smile fade. He looks seriously disturbed.

“Come on. That was a baby earthquake, if that.”

Alex nods distractedly. When he doesn’t snap out of it, I wave and start walking toward class.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at seven-thirty,” he calls after me.

I look back at him. The barely contained look of dread lingering on his features makes me shiver. Maybe he has an earthquake phobia. Or maybe he’s never felt one. Which means he’s definitely not from California. I’m almost to class, and the halls are nearly empty. I groan. I’m going to be late, and my independent study teacher doesn’t seem like the forgiving type. Just as I reach the door to Mr. Brummel’s classroom, I see Kayla standing at the end of the hall. I frown and lift a hand, waving tentatively and wondering why she’s not rushing to class. When our eyes lock, she grins at me in such a creepy way that I recoil.

Help me!

I jump as her thought echoes in my head. She leers again and then turns and starts running. My pulse begins pounding. I don’t know what, but
something
is really wrong. Scared and confused, I drop my backpack and take off after her, sprinting just to keep sight of her. I turn the corner, and she stops and stares at me again before swinging open a door and disappearing inside. Reaching the door, I see a sign that says
Roof Access
. When I swing it open, I have to brace myself against the musty smell. Hearing the clatter of hurried steps above, I launch myself onto the stairs and take them two at a time.

“
Kayla
!”

I’m breathing heavily by the time I get to the top, and jerking open the door, I step out onto the gravel. I spin around, searching for Kayla. When I catch sight of her, she’s at the very edge of the rooftop, looking down. I run toward her.

“
Stop
!”

She spins around on one foot, like she’s not even worried about falling over the edge. When I see her face, my skin crawls. Something is wrong with her, but I don’t know what. Her eyes, which had seemed brown before, are now black as coal.

“Kayla! What are you doing?”

“
Kayla
? Kayla’s not here to take your call right now,” she says in a sing-song voice.

My blood runs cold, and I’m suddenly really scared. Summoning all my nerve, I take a step closer.

“Wren? Oh my God, you have to help me,” my lab partner says in a more normal voice.

I still can’t tell what’s happened to her, but I know she needs help. I take another step, trying to figure out how I can pull her away from the edge without falling myself.

“Kayla, just reach out and take my hand.”

“Wren, don’t get any closer to her,” a voice says from behind me. “She will take you down with her.”

Turning carefully so that I can keep Kayla in my peripheral vision, I see Alex right behind me.

“We need to help her!” I cry.

“You have no chance. Just let the girl go,” Alex says, not to me, but to Kayla. “Her mind won’t last more than a day or two.”

Kayla gestures toward
me
and grins lasciviously. My lip curls up in horror at the strangely lecherous look on her face.

“That one will last
forever
.”

“No chance,” Alex says with deadly calm. “Now release the girl.”

“Sorry, no can do,” Kayla says in the same creep-tastic voice.

I turn and watch in slow motion as she whips around and leaps gracefully over the side. My stomach lurches, and Alex grabs me as I jerk forward, trying to reach for her hand.

“
No
!” I shriek.

Ripping myself from Alex’s grip, I run to the side and look over. The sight below causes my chest to tighten. The angel I saw in my dream is standing holding Kayla in his arms. When he starts carrying her away, I panic. I don’t know whether it’s because he has my lab partner, or because I’m terrified of losing sight of him.

“
Wait
!”

He turns back and looks at me once before retreating. Then Alex grabs my arm and pulls me back from the edge. Tears are forming in the corners of my eyes.

“Wren, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Your friend is going to be fine. Like you, she isn’t going to remember any of this. You started feeling ill, so you went to the nurse’s office …”

***

As I walk into Mr. Brummel’s independent study with a pass from the nurse, I’m still feeling sick, but I don’t think I’m going to throw up, so that’s something. I’m glad that I have a period that doesn’t require a lot of attention, because my head is a little foggy. Sitting down, I start on my homework. But I can’t concentrate, so I take out my spy novel, fixated on the spy’s love interest and whether she survives—or not. When the bell rings a few minutes later, I frown, realizing that I must have spent more time in the nurse’s office than I thought. Looking toward the door, I smile before I can stop myself. Alex is waiting for me. I join him and then cock my head when he starts walking with me to Chemistry.

“It’s so weird. I feel like I’ve known you forever, and I don’t even know your last name,” I laugh.

“Rousseau,” he says.

“Well, Mr. Rousseau, why the escort to class? Don’t trust that I’ll make it there intact?” I tease.