One Past Midnight (26 page)

“It's Finnish,” he answered, surprising me with the clue. “You haven't answered my question.”

I folded the list and shrugged vaguely.

He didn't let it drop. “I think it's because you aren't sure at all. I think there's a part of you that wishes you could find a way to have both lives and make them work together.”

I started to get onto the bed, wanting my second-to-last Shift to be as smooth as possible. Ethan moved down to the end, giving me room.

“And I think you think too much,” I mumbled.

At 11:45, I could feel the panic building, the blood draining from my face. Ethan's words played on my mind, eroding my confidence. I needed to get him away from me. I didn't want to be vulnerable tonight.

“You want to know why? I just want to convince you so
you'll agree to give Maddie the letters I've written for her, since I know my parents won't.”

I heard his gulp. I expected him to take the comment as the slap it was intended to be and storm out of the room, leaving me to shift pathetically on my own.

The silence was broken when he finally started to move, the bedsprings squeaking. To my surprise, instead of getting off the bed, he lay down behind me and put his arm around me, steadying my trembling body.

“I can see right through you, Sabine,” he murmured in my ear, pulling me closer, his wintergreen scent envelop-

ing me. My shivers remained, but the reason for them changed entirely.

No one had ever come this close to knowing me. If anyone could see through the layers, down to the real version of myself that even I didn't know, it was Ethan.

“I'm here. I won't let go. As long as I'm here, I promise you, I won't let go.”

My heart raced at both his words and his nearness, my body's reaction conflicting with my still-angry and confused mind.

“Ethan? What's going on?” I whispered.

He sighed and I felt his warm breath move around my exposed neck, as if it were claiming me. “There are things I want to tell you, things you
need
to know. But not yet. Please, Sabine, try to trust me when I say you need to make your
decision thinking only of yourself. It didn't come out right the other night. I didn't mean it the way it sounded.”

“It was pretty clear.”

“Then why am I here?”

I had absolutely no idea.

“Just think about it. Keep thinking about this decision you're making. Keep thinking about all the conversations we've had, all the things you've told me—how extraordinary your life is. In this world, Sabine. Don't just think about how much better everything would be if you only had your other world; think about what you would miss if you didn't have
this
world.”

“Why, Ethan? Why is it so important to you?”

“You said you wanted someone to know you. Maybe I just want to have someone know me too. Without you in this world, the memories of every moment we've shared together will be gone. We only exist because others see us. Part of my existence . . .” he said with a swallow, “. . . an important part, only exists because you are here to see it.”

What he said was . . . beautiful. Earth-shatteringly, profoundly beautiful. And frightening. Totally and utterly terrifying.

I found myself half-laughing to stop from crying. “You know everyone thinks I'm crazy. They think Wellesley is my imaginary world. I was thinking about it today, thinking that maybe they were right—maybe I am insane. But the thing is,
who says it's my Wellesley world that isn't real? Maybe it's this life that doesn't exist.”

“Is that your way of telling me I'm just a figment of your imagination?”

“Maybe.”

“That's impossible, Sabine.” His arm tightened around me. “If I were a creation of your mind, you'd never have made me this way, believe me.” I opened my mouth to question him, but before I could speak he went on. “And anyway, some things are so real you can feel them to your core. It doesn't matter where you go, they go with you. Anywhere.”

I didn't know what to believe anymore. I was so tired of it all. Literally exhausted and bone weary. And Ethan was turning out to be a complication I seemed to understand less and less every day.

“It's your graduation day in your other world, isn't it?”

The lump in my throat stopped me from answering, but I managed a small nod.

“Don't . . .” He paused. “Don't forget to bring me my words,” he murmured, reminding me that I still needed to gather his proof.

The Shift was coming. My stomach sank and I rolled over to face him, not bothering to hide my tears. For a moment I thought he was going to say something else, but he was quiet. “You may as well just say you still don't believe me.”

His hand clasped the side of my face, tilting it back, his fingers biting into the back of my neck. “That's not what I'm saying. I just want you to get the translation.”

His eyes softened and I couldn't seem to tear my own away. We stayed locked like that, his hand on my face, and before I knew what I was doing my own arms went out, wrapping around him. If only this once, I needed to hold him.

I barely managed to whisper, “Ethan, it's almost midnight. What is it you couldn't tell me?”

He shook his head. “I refuse to believe you've made your final decision, and you need to do that first. I don't want this to influence it.” He took a deep breath. “And I wish I wasn't so selfish, I do . . . but Sabine?”

I shot a look at the clock. So did he. One minute till midnight.

“What?”

“Don't.”

“Don't what?”

“Don't do it tonight . . . with Dex. Don't. Come back to me, Sabine.” His hand slipped all the way around my neck. “Please forgive me, but . . . I love you.” He pulled me to him, his lips going to mine hungrily as he gripped me so tight I could feel his arms trembling. He kissed me in a way I'd never imagined possible.
I
kissed
him
in a way I'd never thought possible.

How had I never known a kiss could shatter everything?

I matched his need with my own until I thought I might explode with the sheer intensity of my desire.

Instead, lost in the moment, I shifted.

I rolled right off the bed, searching for Ethan's arms, before realizing he wasn't here. And I wasn't
there
. My hard thud on the floor helped punctuate the point.

I flopped onto my back and lay there, staring at the dark ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe, how to exist. But how could I? Life as I knew it had changed in every way. I didn't know if simply breathing the way I always had would be enough; I didn't know if anything operated on the same playing field anymore. I mean, Ethan had said . . . and then he had . . . and I had . . . and it was . . . and now . . .

What?

Reality came crashing down in the form of one more quick thought.

Was it possible?

Was Ethan playing me still?

Treating me for some illness he thought I had?

I didn't want to believe it, but despite what he'd said, insinuated, done—he still hadn't told me the one thing he knew would change everything, the thing I needed and wanted to hear more than anything else in the world.

“I love you” are admittedly the words most girls want—but what did they really say? I want to spend time with you, I want to get close to you, I care about you. But the weight of those words still didn't give me what I needed from him. Nothing about what he'd said told me that he, Ethan,
believed
me.

Time was ticking.

He knew it as well as I did. He'd made his thoughts clear on the matter. He thought I was wrong and was making a mistake. Was this his way of forcing my hand? And, if so, would I let him walk me down that road?

I stared at the ceiling, wishing that I understood what was happening to me. Wishing I could go back and see his eyes on me after that kiss. I think I would have known then.

But I couldn't, and it was graduation day.

And I still couldn't forget his words.
Not me.

Tears started to slip from my eyes. Ever since the day I'd met Ethan, my worlds had been spiraling out of control. Maybe he was the problem—the part that didn't fit. Maybe getting away from him was the key.

I wiped away the tears and forced myself to stop crying. Today was not the day for puffy eyes. But of course sleep was
out of the question, so I slipped downstairs, microwaved a pot of wax, sliced up a cucumber and carried it all back to my room. After a thorough leg waxing, I placed the cucumbers on my eyes and did everything I possibly could, including singing my school anthem, to stop thinking about Ethan.

I had a plan. A good plan. He didn't know what my lives had been like. He didn't know what it was like when I was seven and woke up after wetting the bed, going into a fit of terrified shock at what my father would say when he discovered the mess. What it was like to feel that kind of intense childish fear only to be pulled from it and thrust into another reality for the next twenty-four hours, knowing all the time that you would be thrown back into that same state of terror at the end. He didn't know what it was like to be constantly thinking about what I was saying, double-checking I wasn't giving anything away, living in fear that eventually someone would find me out, call me insane. And he didn't know what it was like to never truly belong—to have two lives that were so taxing they left you with no idea of who you really were. The truth was, I was no one at all. You can't explain that to someone.

When the sun came up, Mom wasted no time floating into my room, cradling a gorgeous emerald-green knee-length wrap dress.

“I saved this one for last,” she said, holding it out to me proudly. “I ordered it online ages ago, and when it arrived
I knew it would look stunning!” Mom had a slight online-shopping addiction. So far, it had been working out pretty well for me.

I smiled brightly, admiring the dress.

“You look different, you know,” Mom said.

I looked up at her self-consciously. “What do you mean?”

She gave me her proud mom smile. “Grown up, ready to take on the world. I don't know really. It's almost as if you've just woken up with it this morning. You look . . . beautiful.” She swept a hand down my hair and I threw myself at her, hugging her tight.

“Love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Sabine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just . . . all this growing-up stuff is hard sometimes.”

Mom sighed. “This wouldn't have anything to do with Dex and tonight, would it?”

I gulped. “No. I . . . Mom, can we not talk about that?”

She laughed lightly. “We don't have to talk about it. You're a sensible girl. I trust you'll be responsible in your judgment. If things feel right for you, then they probably are. But if they don't, I know you'll listen to that too.” She pushed me gently away from her, staring at me proudly. “Get dressed. Remember, you promised to help Lucy set up. We'll see you there, in the front row. Your father, Lucas, and Aunt Lyndal will be there too.” She eyed the dress. “I can't
wait to see how it looks.” She headed out, but I stayed where I was. I knew she wouldn't be able to resist.

Sure enough, she paused at the door. “Ah, honey. Hair up with that one I think.”

At least some things would always remain the same.

The day flew. When I arrived at the hall, Lucy was already in full melt-down mode. After calming her down we ran around for the next few hours, setting out chairs, placing programs, and arranging the lecterns, photo area, and the tea and coffee stand. By the time we actually lifted our heads from the work, the seats were all filled and the ceremony was about to start.

I couldn't have been happier. Distraction was the best medicine for me.

We received our diplomas and endured the long, drawn-out speeches from the principal and valedictorians—there were two this year, double fun. But it was incredibly satisfying. I'd waited twice as long for this day, and since I was going to miss it in my other life, I soaked up every moment, laughing with friends, getting my graduation handshake, tossing my hat into the air. Miriam received a special mention for her history grades, I received a special mention for my achievements in French, and Dex got an award for athletics.

I could hear Mom clapping loudly and gave her and Dad a wave. Dad looked great in a charcoal suit. He was sporting a new haircut, working the salt-and-pepper look for all it was worth. He probably had a new love interest. But he was there, applauding me along with Mom, Lucas, and Aunt Lyndal—who was wearing a shocking shade of bright orange. Mom kept sending her horrified looks. I was willing to bet Aunt Lyndal had done it just for the kick she got out of irritating Mom. No surprise Ryan hadn't bothered to show—something about a pressing assignment. Yeah, right.

After the ceremony, everyone hung around drinking coffee and tea and taking photos. Dex's parents insisted on having me in their family shots, which should have made me beam, but instead made me feel queasy. All too quickly the day was over and everyone started heading off to prepare for the dinner.