Eternity

Suddenly JD felt terrible. Here he was, suspecting this girl—who was basically a stranger to him—of lying, of knowing Chase, of maybe even having seduced Chase on the night of his death. It was absurd, and now he’d gone and made her feel sad. He really had a way with the chicks.

The light was quickly waning, and the magic of the evening felt drained. “I think we should start heading back,” he said. He placed his cup back in the basket, along with the remaining food items.

“And miss the rest of the sunset?” Ty pouted. “Some urban explorer you are. . . . ”

“I’ve got homework,” he said, unable to come up with a clever response. When he stood, JD felt dazed, unsettled with the turn this conversation had taken.

She led the way back down to the main level, but as JD was descending the narrow staircase, one of the boards broke loose under his foot, and he felt himself falling forward.

Ty reached out and he grabbed her hand, steadying himself.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “The ground just completely came out from under me.”

“I saved you,” Ty responded, laughing in that same husky way that she had at the pizza parlor. “Looks like you owe me one.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“W . . . T . . . F?,” Gabby said as she slid into the red vinyl diner booth. She drew out every letter. “You better tell me more about this Crow sitch. Especially if I’m going to be expected to cover for you. Thank god your mom fell for the I-was-having-a-boy-crisis-and-needed-Em-please-don’t-ask-any-more- questions bit.”

Em cringed, imagining what could have happened if Gabby hadn’t thought so quickly on her feet. “You saved my ass, Gabs,” she said. “I’m definitely buying your meal.”

The past forty-eight hours had been hell. Though she’d slept well in Crow’s bed, she’d basically been awake ever since. She’d lain wide awake in her bed the last couple of nights, staring at the ceiling and getting up periodically to peer out from behind her curtains. The feeling of being stalked was constant. And she’d woken up with a hot, black anger flowing inside of her, like a physical force.

It was undeniable now. Ever since that night with Crow, she’d gained a horrible clarity—that the transformation was definitely happening, and quickly. She had no idea how to reverse it.

She would lose her life, her family. Her soul.

Which was why she was desperate to talk to Skylar McVoy in private. But all day at school, Em had been unable to corner her; the one time their eyes met across the hall, Skylar pivoted and scurried away, almost as if she were deliberately avoiding a confrontation.

Now it was nearly six o’clock, and Skylar’s rehearsal would be ending soon. But first, Em had to deal with someone she’d been desperately putting off: Gabby.

She had never intended to fall asleep in Crow’s bed two nights earlier, and was mortified—and panicked —when she woke up with her face mashed into his pillow, a little spot of drool next to her mouth, her shoes discarded on top of his sheets. She must have kicked them off in her sleep. The truth was, she hadn’t slept so well, so soundly, in forever.

But while she was dreaming in Crow’s bed, her parents had called Gabby early that morning.

“Em left us a note that she was going to your place, but it wasn’t clear that she was sleeping over,” Susan Winters had said suspiciously. “It seemed strange for a Tuesday night. We tried her cell, but it’s off.”

Gabby had told them Em was in the shower—she wasn’t an idiot—but after hanging up with Mrs. Winters, she’d called Em in a frenzy. Are you okay? Are you even alive? Where are you? You better get home. All that stuff. Em had promised to explain everything later. But for two days, she’d been promising Gabby an explanation more detailed than the one she had given—which happened to be the truth. “I was with Crow,” Em had said. “He’s helping me with something.”

Obviously that hadn’t satisfied Gabby—in fact, she’d let out such a prolonged screech in the library yesterday that she’d nearly gotten them kicked out—and she’d finally guilted Em into an early dinner and a gossip session at the diner tonight, claiming she was craving a tuna melt. Em wasn’t thrilled about meeting at a diner with notoriously slow service; she looked at her watch, counting down the minutes until Skylar’s rehearsal got out— then scolded herself. Gabby, she thought. You’re spending time with your best friend, Gabby.

“Bribes don’t work, Winters,” Gabby said once they’d ordered (a tuna melt for Gabs, just a strawberry milk shake for Em), leaning forward. “Spill it—everything. How long has this been going on? How far have you gotten? What about JD? I thought you had a big thing for him?”

Em couldn’t help but be slightly amused by the rapid-fire questions. “It’s not what you think,” she said. “I didn’t mean to sleep over. It was an accident.” He’d been perfectly respectful, as he promised; Em had woken up to find him curled in a blanket on his floor next to the bed. It was weird to see how peaceful Crow looked in sleep—boyish, even. His mouth open ever so slightly, his scowl gone, his eyes fluttering lightly. She’d realized she was staring, and coughed loudly to wake him up.

“So,” Gabby said, not skipping a beat. “My best friend is sleeping with the Grim Creeper, a pot-smoking high school dropout. Should I call an intervention now, or wait until you become the new Teen Mom?”

Em dropped her head into her hands. “Nononononono,” she mumbled, half-laughing. “Gabby. Calm down. First of all, quit it with the nicknames—they’ve gotten me into enough trouble. And second, I am hanging out with Crow, and it is very unromantic.” She thought of his hand running through her hair and blushed; Gabby slapped her arm and gave her a look. “Okay, okay. We’ve kissed, like, once. But really, I do not like him like that. Like you said yourself, I’m still head over heels for JD. Crow is just . . . a distraction.”

“You, Emily Winters, are completely out of your mind,” Gabby said, shaking her head and sounding a lot like Em’s mom had earlier this morning. “I can’t believe I lied for you so that you could hang out—no, I’m sorry, make out—with Crow.” She took a huffy bite of the sandwich that had been placed before her.

Em looked down, disappointed that her shake looked so thick. “We’re just . . . it’s because of Drea,” Em said, the excuse coming to her all at once. “You know he was friends with her too. He’s kind of . . . broken up about the whole thing. We just wanted to talk about her. So I went over, thinking I’d just be there for a little while, and I ended up falling asleep.”

The explanation seemed to placate Gabby slightly; it was like a tacit agreement between them that Drea and Em’s unlikely friendship was off-limits. Em felt bad lying to Gabby, but in this case a lie really was better (not to mention more believable) than the truth. She was scared to get Gabby mixed up in this mess.

“Are you in trouble?” Gabby asked. “Did your ’rents buy it?”

“They seemed to go for the fell-asleep-at-your-place thing,” Em said, knocking on the non-wood tabletop. “I mean, they made a big deal about being clearer next time . . . but I was already late for school, so they didn’t go on for too long. They haven’t mentioned it since.”

“It almost seems like you knew you were going to sleep there,” Gabby teased, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. Em could tell she wasn’t going to just let this one go.

“I promise, Gabs. Nothing is going on between me and Crow. Nothing.” More than anything, Em wanted that to be the truth.

“Whoa, that’s crazy,” Gabby said, suddenly transfixed by Em’s hands.

Em looked down and sprung her hands away from the glass. There was steam rising between them, condensation from the heat of her hands against the cold milk-shake glass. Like she’d been sizzling on a stove.

She looked all around her and, with the strangest feeling of deja vu, she tried to change the subject. “So what have you been up to?”

“I met with Ned about makeup on Monday night and then—”

Em put up her hand. “You met with who?”

“Ned—JD’s friend? The director? I’m going to do hair and makeup for the play!” Gabby smiled proudly.