26. Eden
TWENTY-SIX
EDEN
She came to me in a dream, the ghost who brought me here. Freshman year of high school, I’d had such grand aspirations to start anew, to experience the world for the first time with some semblance of normalcy. But the second I’d opened my mouth at Seattle Prep, everyone knew I was different. I didn’t understand pop culture references, had never played a sport, had never read a book that wasn’t religiously affiliated. The things I did like once I found my freedom deviated from the mainstream, which only cemented my place at the bottom of the social structure.
I wasn’t about to change for anyone, and so I stuck my metaphorical finger to the world and knew I could go it alone, no matter how much it really did hurt me, deep down.
It was Halloween night that I dreamt of her. A girl similar in age and appearance to myself, wandering alone in the foggy woods, purplish rings around her eyes from exhaustion. She was crying, calling out for help, for anyone to notice and extend a hand to her. That gauzy white dress and those black eyes still haunt me, but I’d answered the call and the lure of the dead.
Dad had quirked his brow at my sudden need for taxi money, but he’d relented, too sick to ask many questions at the time. The man who drove me to Hangman Hallow had only rolled his front two tires onto the dirt road leading to St. Ignatius before he told me to get out. He’d been muttering Hail Mary’s when I exited, and part of me wonders if he saw her, the girl from my dreams, because I’d locked eyes with her wavering, phantom form the second we arrived.
It had taken me hours to walk the dirt road to the asylum, but I wasn’t alone. She followed closely, weaving between the trees and thick underbrush, peeking at me with hollow, curious eyes, her long black hair stringy, uneven. Her dress—a hospital type gown—was covered in dirt and blood.
She never spoke to me, not directly, but the closer my feet brought me to the building, the more I felt . Her sorrow, her fear, her despair, and her longing. Deep in my chest, in my bones. She was so lonely, and I knew above all what that type of loneliness felt like. I’d explored every facet of the ancient, crumbling building with her peering over my shoulder, and I wasn’t afraid, not once.
She felt powerful, even in death, and she kept the more vile spirits at bay.
She didn’t need help crossing over, something the media always talks about. Not all ghosts want that, or need it. Some are meant to reside in this plane of existence, and she was one of them. In the years that followed my first trip, she became more peaceful, more gentle. Sometimes she’d even smile at me before disappearing.
And now, as I stand on the stone steps that lead into the desolate haven for the dead, she’s keen to see who’s behind me.
In the grand foyer of the hospital, moonlight barely blots out the darkness. She stands in the hall directly across from the massive double doors, staring at me unblinkingly, head cocked to the side, dress wavering in a breeze I cannot feel. Gently, I smile at her, my heart at peace with hers. She endured hell and torture here, but she found a friend in death, and I found someone I didn’t know I would need at the time. She’s heard me sob about my father, about being lonely, about the terror my mother foisted upon me at such a young age. She understands pain.
Like me, she just needed a friend.
She evaporates the second Teddy’s shoe scuffs over the dusty, unfinished wood floors, but my eyes linger on the spot she just left, a small smile on my lips. All feels calm tonight, the rest of the inhabitants here quiet and curious at the newcomer, their eyes brushing against my skin like cold fingers in the dark.
“Did you see something?” he whispers. It’s no use hiding this secret from Teddy anymore. He’ll either believe me or not, but with all he’s seen, with the way he’s so casually comfortable being here, I don’t think he will mock me, or think me insane. I suppose I’m in the right place, if that’s the case.
“Yeah,” I whisper, turning my head to glance at him over my shoulder. He stands tall and breathtakingly handsome, backlit in the entrance by the moon, his teal eyes shining, a smile wavering on his lips, waiting to flash into his trademark grin. His body is tense, his excitement almost childish in nature, like he’s giddy to be here talking about all things death and dying.
He’s perfect for me, and my heart aches in longing at the thought. I pray I’ll still feel this way come morning.
He takes a step forward, duffel bag dangling from one hand, one sleeping bag tucked up under his arm. His smirk is devilish this time as it appears. “Will you tell me what? Or am I still going to be left in the dark here, little ghost?”
I smile softly, nerves jolted at his new nickname for me. It fits. One day, we’ll all be ghosts. Hopefully his soul and mine are meant to stay together through death.
Hopefully, we find our way back to one another here, in this place that feels oddly like home to me.
“I call her Eve. She doesn’t seem to mind the name. She…she led me here, years ago.”
His eyes widen in what looks awfully close to lust, and he steps forward, his frame consuming the light from behind and casting me into his immense, foreboding shadow. I have to crane my neck back to keep our eyes locked.
“Is she still here?” he asks, glancing around the wide, empty space.
I shake my head, still smiling gently. He frowns, cocking his head to the side, his eyes falling to mine. Disappointment swirls there.
“Did I scare her?”
I snort, shaking my head. “No. She just likes to be alone.”
His gaze softens.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
I quirk my brow. “For what?”
If anything, I should be thanking him , over and over and over, for all he did to make my night absolutely perfect, adding in moments I didn’t even know I’d want, or need. Having a pizza party in my dad’s hospice room? This dress, the makeup, even the ballet flats tied to my ankles? It’s perfection, and he is at the root of it.
“For sharing a secret with me.”
He reaches out, dragging his knuckles down my cheek, and I shiver at his touch and all it ignites within me. I flash him a grin, unable to resist teasing him back, especially with how alive I feel right now.
“You earned it.”
This time, when he grins, it’s mordacious and biting, and my heart squeezes.
“C’mon. I have more to earn, Eden Clemm.”
My stomach writhes, fraught with nerves, but I take his outstretched hand.
“Lead the way then, Teddy Poe.”
We hike three floors up, silent the entire way, both of us listening for any disturbances but hearing none. A strange, nervous sort of calm is taking root in my core, the build up for this night somehow beautiful and transformative, my worries about my dad and the circus fading into nothing because for once, I’m being a teenager, and it feels so fucking good .
The old building creaks and groans, winds whistling through the forest outside, and we pause in front of a gaping doorway, Teddy pulling his hand from mine, glancing down at me.
“Wait here?”
Biting my lip, I nod, and he smooths his thumb over my cheek once before disappearing into the darkness. Moments later, soft, golden light begins to flicker into the hallway, making shadows jump and dance along the walls. There’s some shuffling, and one or two curses, but he’s back, arms outstretched as his hands grip the doorframe, that dark, lurid grin dancing on his devastatingly handsome face.
“Welcome, Miss Clemm,” he teases, his eyes alight with mischief. I frown at him, suddenly nervous for whatever it is he’s planned aside from the sex. “To one of the best nights of your life.”
Brows rising, I scoff, crossing my arms and jutting out my hip, emboldened here because I feel so at peace, so at home. “ One of them?”
He steps back out into the hall, taking both of my hands in his own, his warm, rough palms so gentle.
“I don’t know about you, but I have a feeling this won’t be a one night stand, Eden. Hope you’re okay with that. If not…” he trails off, eyes searching mine. Butterflies are wreaking havoc in my stomach as I hold his unwavering, potent stare. His canine teeth appear when his smile broadens, a dangerous glint to his gaze. “Then I suppose you’ll have to learn to be okay with it, because if you haven’t realized it by now, I’m insane.”
Laughter puffs out from between my lips, and I wonder fleetingly if he’s serious, if he’s subtly sharing something about himself with me. If so…why am I oddly okay with that?
“ How insane?” I ask, seeking more. He leans in, releasing one hand to cup my cheek before resting his warm forehead against mine. My breath hitches in my throat, and though the night has grown chilly, I am suddenly sweltering in this beautiful dress. Firelight dances upon his angular, chiseled face, and in this moment, everything is perfect.
“Insane enough to follow you through every lifetime.”
And then, he kisses me.