Eternity

The sun was just starting to set, and the glass burned orange-red. Ty walked over to the window and looked out. JD wanted to join her, but the moment seemed loaded. He didn’t want it to seem like he was making a move or something. He wasn’t even sure he should make a move—whether she wanted him to, whether he wanted to.

“Come look at this,” she breathed, shielding her eyes against the glare.

He hesitated for just a second, and then moved closer. The scene outside the window was a perfectly composed juxtaposition of industry and nature—the rusty, unused train tracks, overgrown with weeds, butting up against the forest, dark with evergreen branches. A scene of unrestrained wildness. For a moment, he felt like he was inside a museum exhibit, encased in glass.

“Wow,” he said. “Looks like a photograph.” ?Their arms were touching. He took a deep breath.

“Feels nice to get away from it all, doesn’t it?” ?Ty said before turning back to her basket and starting to assemble the “picnic”—a baguette, some Brie, a bunch of grapes, an apple, and a bottle of red wine. Classy. He wondered how old Ty was—it hadn’t occurred to him to ask.

“Great spread,” JD said. “Did you bring a knife?”

“Of course,” Ty said, reaching deep into the seemingly bottomless basket and pulling out what looked like a hunting knife. It was silver, and there was a snake engraved in its hilt. Not exactly your typical kitchen utensil.

JD drew back in mock fear. “Whoa. I didn’t know you were packing heat.”

“What can I say?” Ty shrugged and batted her lashes. “I always come prepared.”

“Good to know,” JD said. “I’ll call you next time I need help gutting a deer.”

“I’m good at that,” Ty answered evenly. JD wondered if she was kidding or not. The she laughed—that low, hoarse laugh that made her sound kind of like a woman from a black-and-white movie. It was sort of sinister, actually. She had a laugh like a ninety-year-old smoker, Tina had said. He didn’t know why the thought popped into his head just then, but it made him totally uncomfortable.

It wasn’t possible. . . . It wasn’t at all possible that Ty had been the older girl Tina was talking about, the one who had dated Chase briefly and driven him almost to madness. The one who had led him on.

But then again, Ty had mentioned that Chase died with a lipstick mark on his face. Why would she have known that? Again, the detail haunted him. He wanted to bring it up again, but how?

Trying to shake off the eerie feeling in his gut, he set to work slicing the apple, and they settled onto the floor, munching on bits of fruit and cheese. Everything felt slick and heavy in his mouth, and even as he started to feel full, he felt like he couldn’t stop eating. She poured the wine into clear plastic cups and he sipped his freely, enjoying the way it loosened his tongue and calmed him down a little.

“So, do you see Ali often?” he asked. He figured he’d start by finding out how much time Ty even spent in Ascension, and go from there.

“Oh, we spend a lot of time together. The three of us travel everywhere.” She reached into her bag and dug out a strip of photo-booth snapshots. The picture was black-and-white, timeless. “That’s us,” she said. “Me, Ali, and Meg.”

JD was startled to see that the third girl in the picture was the same Meg he’d met at Drea’s memorial service, the one with the red ribbon around her neck. She was wearing it in the photograph.

And he’d seen her with Crow, too.

“We’re inseparable,” Ty said. “Or at least we used to be. I actually think we’re growing apart. We want different things.” Her eyes drifted back to the window, where the sunset had turned dusky, pinkish, like a faded rose.

“Really? That’s too bad.” JD took another sip of wine. He didn’t usually drink, but he was starting to feel warm and more relaxed. It had just really hit him that he was on a date with a girl who could have passed for a supermodel. He still couldn’t quite believe it.

“It happens.” Ty shrugged and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. For a minute, she was quiet. Then she blurted: “It’s been happening for a while. I want . . . I want to live my own life, I guess. To have a life. And she and Meg don’t really understand that. So I’m taking matters into my own hands.” She looked vulnerable then, more like Em than ever. ?The impression was so strong he almost reached out and kissed her. He almost couldn’t stop herself. But then she smiled again and the resemblance faded. “People change, you know? And I’m changing. I know I am.” ?The thought seemed to please her.

Ty’s words made something stick inside of him. Change. Would he, JD Fount, ever change? Had he ever taken matters into his own hands, or fought to have a life? Even his younger sister thought he was lame. When was the last time he’d really been proactive about anything, anything that mattered? He kept letting himself get jerked around . . . but maybe he deserved better.

“Hey, are you all right?” Ty reached out and touched JD’s arm. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been balling his fists.

“Oh, yeah . . . ” he said sheepishly, stretching his fingers. “You just got me thinking. I’ve been growing apart from someone too.”

Ty raised her eyebrows. “Wanna talk about it?”

Maybe it was the wine, or the way that Ty was looking at him so sympathetically. Or maybe it was the weirdness of the place, the space high up in an abandoned building with the sun smoldering pink outside their window, but JD suddenly felt compelled to share everything. “This girl I’ve known . . . forever. My friend Em.”

Ty looked at him, wide-eyed. “Not Em Winters?”

He immediately regretting being so open. Ty now probably thought he was pathetic too. “Do you know her?”

“Kind of. Just a little. We have a mutual friend. She came up in conversation the other day.” She shook her head. “Life is so weird like that.”

“Who’s the mutual friend?” JD asked.

“Oh, I’m not sure if you know him—he doesn’t go to Ascension,” Ty said, plucking a grape from its stem and popping it into her mouth. “His name is Colin. He’s a musician—”

“I know who Crow—who Colin is,” JD said, feeling the familiar burn of resentment in his chest whenever he thought of Crow. “What was he saying about Em?”

Ty cocked her head to one side and gave him a smile that indicated she knew more than she was letting on. “He just mentioned he knows her, that they’ve been hanging out, that’s all. . . . ”

JD tightened his hands into fists again. He desperately wanted to pump Ty for information, but he refused to embarrass himself so blatantly.

“Are you and Em, like, a thing?” Ty asked.

“We’re—no,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “She lives next door to me. I’ve known her forever.”

“And you love her,” Ty said matter-of-factly, as though daring him to correct her.

JD looked away. Was it that obvious? Heat crept into his neck. There was no point in denying it. So he just said: “I’ve just . . . I’ve seen her get hurt. She has terrible taste in guys.”

“She must, if she’s not into you,” Ty said playfully, but the compliment only made him feel worse. Because Em wasn’t into him, and that was the point.

He could feel Ty watching him closely. “Last year, Em fell for the world’s biggest d-bag. He cheated on Em’s best friend—with Em. I warned her about him, but she ignored me.”

“Sounds like she made a pretty bad mistake,” Ty said, popping a grape’s skin with her teeth. “Did she pay for it?”

“Did she . . . what?” JD looked confused. “What do you mean?”

Ty shrugged. “I just mean, did she learn from her mistake?”

JD shook his head. “I don’t know. I think so.” Had she? He didn’t know. “What about you?” he asked pointedly. If Ty was going to put him on the spot, he should be allowed to do the same to her.

“What about me what?” she asked.

“Any unrequited love of your own?” ?What he wanted to ask was, Who are you really? What are your secrets? Did you know Chase Singer more than you’re letting on? Did you date him?

Ty shrugged, pulling a strand of hair around in front of her shoulder and tugging at it as she talked. “Not really,” she said. “I’ve never really been able to date someone seriously. Every time I try, it ends badly.” Her voice was less musical than usual.