Chapter 10 Everly
Chapter 10
Everly
A few minutes before
Walking into the Blackbird Bar is surreal. We had our senior prom here near the caverns behind the bar. There’s a waterfall there, and it was magical. I tagged along with Fritz, Tabby, and their dates.
Carson showed up with a cheerleader.
And then there was Beckett. He came alone but never glanced my way. I shake my head, remembering how I followed him into one of the cavern tunnels. There had been torches hanging on the cave walls to light the path. I’d called out his name and told him to wait for me, but he didn’t. When I came to a fork in the tunnel, I didn’t know which path to choose. He went either right or left. I’d needed to talk to him so bad. At school, it was impossible with so many people watching me. Sure, I’d searched the farm for him, but he was never around, and when I would go to his house, Margo would tell me that he didn’t want to see me.
Right or left in the cave?
I remember going left and then ending up back at the waterfalls, with no Beckett in sight. He must have gone right.
A small huff comes from my chest. I left this town swearing never to return, but here I am again.
What am I thinking?
You’re stoned. You’re not thinking anything.
I stumble a little in my high heels, and Tabby straightens me as she crooks her arm in mine and whispers, “On a scale of one to ten, how high are you?”
I glance at her. She looks adorable in a yellow fifties pinup dress that makes her red hair pop. “I’m an eleven. Should we drink some wine to top it off?”
She nods as we head to the bar.
I can handle a small-town bar. And Beckett. I’ve faced down subway rats in New York. I am cool, and oh god, why is my stomach jumping? Was it the tequila earlier?
Forget that—I really shouldn’t have worn these stupid clips in my hair. They’re hurting my head. I think I’m gonna be sick, and oh no, wouldn’t that be awful if I puked right here in front of everyone? Nope, nope, I’m fine. I swallow it down. Phew.
“You can do it,” Tabby tells me. “Walk like a queen, girl.”
That’s right. I’m a freaking superhero. Like Wonder Woman, but with smaller muscles. Oh, I love Wonder Woman’s bracelets. I need those. And her lasso. It was golden and made men tell the truth when she wrapped them in it. Wait, was Wonder Woman into bondage? Ah, perhaps her creator was. Who created Wonder Woman? A man, judging by the size of her breasts and outfit. Note to self: do a podcast on Wonder Woman.
“There’s so many people here,” Tabby grumbles as we weave through the crowd.
I glance at the bar, the lights dancing. Whoaaaaaaaa, it’s pretty.
Focus. Imagine “Comfortably Numb” by Pink Floyd. Yeah, just go with that mellow vibe. Be the chillest version of yourself. I scratch my head. Okay, these hair clips are the devil. Why did I think they were a good idea? They’re tiny torture devices on my scalp. And what’s with my stomach? Do I need food?
This is fine. Everything is fine.
Deep breath. Shoulders straight. Chin up.
I giggle.
Yeah, that’s right. You’re awesome. You’re Audrey Hepburn meets Snoop Dogg. Elegant, but cool. Sophisticated, but stoned. Just smile and pretend you’re on a cloud. Because maybe you are.
Wait. Are clouds white or blue? No, the sky is blue. Right, right.
And stars are white—or blue—or red. Depends on what kind.
Seeing the stars outside my old house is pretty cool. I missed that.
My throat prickles.
Tears threaten, and I try to push them down.
Am I sad?
Stop.
You’re fine.
No, you’re not.
You know what’s up. You’re good at escaping. You excel at running.
You escaped New York.
You escaped Rose.
You escaped Beckett.
Why am I always running? Why can’t I face things head-on?
I take a breath, clenching my fists. This isn’t the time for an existential crisis.
Not here.
Just smile. Keep walking.
Be strong.
Even if I’m falling apart.
“All the food is free tonight,” Troy says from the other side of Tabby. “Who’s got the munchies?”
Tabby tells him she wants some barbecue nachos, but I just shake my head.
I scan the room again.
My stomach pitches when I catch sight of Carson and Beckett at the bar. Carson, tall and blond, glances up, and our eyes meet. He’s still hot, still giving off that aura that made him the golden boy of Rose High.
I look away from him to Beckett. Dark-haired, green-eyed Beckett.
Beckett, Beckett, Beckett.
Why did you break my heart? I bared my soul in my diary, and you didn’t even care.
Tabby grabs my arm. “Carson’s coming over here. What are we gonna do?”
“Should we dash to the restrooms and hide?” Troy says.
She thumps him on the arm. “No, that’s too obvious. Just act natural.”
“Right, natural,” I repeat. “Piece of cake on a white cloud with a kitten.”
“What cloud?” Troy asks.
I wave him off.
“Oh, shit,” Tabby whispers. “Beckett is coming too. Should we form a human shield for Everly?”
“Too late,” I say as Carson reaches us. He gazes down at me, his eyes still that pretty blue-green.
I did love him back then—as much as I could. It’s true what everyone says. You can love two people at the same time but in different ways. It’s like having two favorite songs. They both make your heart happy, but with a different beat. With Carson, it was sweet and fun.
But Beckett is on another level. He is the song that plays when the world falls away, when everything else is noise and he’s the only thing that makes sense. With him, it’s deeper, a love that’s seen me at my worst. He held me when I cried for my mom. He read his favorite books to me. He never ever forgot my birthday, and most of all, he used to look at me as if I was his universe. But in the end, it was a love that pushed me away and hurt me.
“Hey,” Carson says, his voice soft. “It’s been a while.”
There’s a beat of silence, the air thickening with tension. I might be stoned, but I clearly remember the anger on his face that day in the locker room, the way he dated every pretty girl after me just to spite me. I don’t really blame him. I made him look like a fool.
His smile falters slightly, as if he’s also caught up in the memories.
I smile. “Yeah, it has.”
Beckett arrives and stands next to him, watching us with a guarded expression. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and I wonder if he rushed over to us.
“You look good,” Carson murmurs. “New York must be treating you well.”
“Thanks,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light.
Beckett eases a tad closer to me, his arm brushing against mine. His gaze drifts over my face, then lingers on my throat, where my locket rests. “We were just talking about the fire we started in the field.”
I grasp the locket instinctively, feeling the metal under my fingers. He doesn’t ask the question, but he wants to know if the picture of us is still inside it.
Carson’s eyes flick to the locket. “Ah, the necklace Beckett gave you. You still wear it.”
“I thought it appropriate since I was in Rose,” I say as I click open the latch and rub my finger over the empty part inside. “There used to be a pic of the three of us in here, but I lost it. Still, it’s a pretty piece of jewelry.”
It’s a lie. I still have that photo.
Carson nods as if he understands.
Beckett’s throat bobs, and he looks away from my eyes.
“How are your podcast interviews going in Rose? Everyone is talking about it,” Carson says.
“Good.”
He rocks on his heels. “Right. Who do you plan to interview next? I’d love to talk about some of the things we got into growing up.”
I smile, then get very serious as I lean in close to Carson and then to Beckett, my eyes wide. “Did one of you send me an invitation to the lottery?”
“People send invites?” Carson asks.
“No, but I got one,” I reply.
Beckett looks at his phone, ignoring me. Hmm. No reply from him, I see.
I point at each of them. “Fine. Did one of you give me a kitten?”
Carson looks genuinely baffled. “Why would we?”
Beckett huffs.
Still, no answer.
I frown, stepping back slightly, looking between them. “Someone left a kitten on my porch. In a box. With a note. Fess up.”
Tabby grins. “Today it was a giant bear. Makes me wonder what’s coming next.”
I cross my arms. “Well, whoever sent the cat must care about me more than you two. At least they think I need some company at my house.”
“It wasn’t me,” Carson says.
Beckett shrugs, avoiding my gaze. “A kitten sounds nice. Good thing you aren’t allergic.”
I point at him, eyes narrowing. “See, only someone who knew I wasn’t allergic would leave it.”
He grins. “You grew up with cats. Of course you aren’t allergic.”
A slow ballad from the eighties comes from the band, and I lock eyes with Beckett. “I want to dance. With Beckett.”
Did I really just say that?
“With me?” Beckett asks, surprised.
“Come on, we’ll dance on a cloud together.”
“I can’t say no to that,” he murmurs as he takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor.
“You’re totally stoned, aren’t you?” he asks as we reach the dais, where people are dancing.
I nod.
“I knew it. You’re being too nice. It’s very confusing.”
“I’m tired of the tension,” I say.
“Then let’s make it worth it.”
He pulls me into his arms, his hands firm on my waist. The music pulses around us—some Air Supply song—but I barely hear it. Every subtle movement brings his chest against mine, a teasing brush of contact that sends a shiver through me.
I may be stoned, but I’m hyperaware of his body. Beckett. It’s all him. And I want to melt into him.
I slide my hands up to his shoulders, letting my fingers graze the back of his neck. We sway slowly as his scent—warm and woodsy—envelops me.
Seventeen-year-old Everly didn’t have any womanly wiles, but this woman does. My fingers dig into his shoulders, massaging the tension there before I tug gently at the hair near his nape.
His breath hitches, and his lips brush against my temple, a brief touch that sends a thrill through me.
His thumb traces light circles on my waist, and I lean farther into him, letting my pelvis brush deliberately against his.
He hisses softly, his grip tightening, and I gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes, knowing full well the effect I’m having on him. The tension between us crackles, and I secretly smile as I press my face to his chest. I’m going to savor every bit of this because I may never be this close to him again.
I pull back slightly. “What should I name my new kitten? She’s black with white feet.”
“I thought she was a yellow tabby?”
I roll my eyes. “Knew it. You sent her. She needs a name. What do you think of Snickers?”
He tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth. “I thought you were high.”
“Moments of clarity trickle in. Plus, only you take walks that lead to my backyard.” I pause, my finger idly drawing on his shoulder. I look up at him. “I installed a CCTV camera about five years ago. Did you know?”
He nods. “I remember the day the crew came to set it up.”
“And you didn’t care that I can see you at night, just standing there at the edge of my property for the past five years? You do it a lot. It’s kinda embarrassing. Are you some kind of creeper?”
“Call the cops. I wasn’t trespassing.”
“No, but you might get shot by some renters. You should be more careful.”
“I’m just walking my land, Everly.”
“Why?”
“Um, because I own it.”
“You should stop doing it. I don’t like seeing you on camera.” I pout. “Whatever. I think I’m going to name the kitten Murder.”
He stops dancing for a moment. “Murder?”
I peer into his eyes. “You made me the villain in your book, so I’ll name the kitten after you. Murder. She’ll be my little villain. I’ll teach her to eat spiders and mice. A tough girl. Deep down her heart is pure.”
“Everly . . .”
I rest my head back on his chest, cutting off his words. “Don’t worry, Beckett. I’m just having fun.”
“I never hated you back then,” he says out of the blue. “My feelings for you never changed. I just had reasons ...”
“What reasons?”
He stares down at me, a muscle in his jaw working as if he’s wrestling with something internal. He shakes his head. “Things I didn’t want to tell you about. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
I’m confused and I’m high and I can’t process his words.
I focus on something else. “You did save me a little back then. You’re the only one who knows I left the diary out for Abigail, yet you never told anyone. I should thank you for that. It’s silly of me to worry over something I did when I was only seventeen, but it ruined our friendship.”
“Everly . . .”
I cut him off. “I was so scared of ruining our friendship, me and you and Carson. I just wanted someone else to spill the truth. I knew she’d run away in glee with my diary.” A shadow flits across my face. “I just didn’t know she’d do it when she did or how she did, right before the game. I thought I was manipulating her, but she had the last laugh. Everything that happened was my fault. You and I—I never should have tried to cross the line.”