Eternity (11 page)

“I’ve been waiting forever,” she groaned playfully, hopping around to the driver’s-side door. “I’m glad you decided to meet up. Come on, let’s go. I have a surprise for you.”

The car smelled heavy and sweet, like a perfume he couldn’t identify.  “Where are we going?” he asked as they passed Ascension’s forests, fields, and buildings in Ty’s maroon Lincoln. The sun was getting lower in the sky; soon the horizon would be a muddy wash of pink and orange and purple. Ty looked like she was dressed for a nightclub, in tight black jeans, a flowing red top, and earrings that dangled as far as her collarbone. He wondered if he’d made a mistake.

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” Ty said in her singsong voice. “But I hope you’re hungry. I packed us a picnic.”

Now that she mentioned it, JD realized he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. “I could go for something to eat,” he said. But he worried: Was this a date? He wasn’t an idiot—he knew most guys would kill to be him right now. Ty was ridiculously gorgeous and, from what he could tell, perfectly nice—but there was something . . . off about her. He had a gut feeling there was more to Ty than met the eye, and it wasn’t necessarily beautiful.

And then there was Emily Winters. There was always Emily Winters, and would always be.

Ty turned down the industrial road on the edge of town, near the old train yard. He’d passed this place a million times on his way to the highway, but he’d never had any reason to explore further. “What’s down here?” he asked.

“A blast from the past,” Ty said as they rounded the corner and a decrepit brick warehouse came into view. Broken-down
train cars lined tracks that were overgrown with husks of dead grass. The entire landscape was brown—rusty metal, muddy ground, dirty bricks. “Ta-da! Isn’t it beautiful? Sometimes I feel like I can still hear the whistle of the trains in the distance.”

JD knew enough local history to know that the freight line hadn’t come through this part of town in decades. He sat for a moment, squinting his eyes, looking at the abandoned building, its broken windows, and graffiti. “It’s, ah, very retro. . . . ” he said. It wasn’t exactly what he’d been expecting, but then again, he couldn’t have imagined Ty pulling him out of theater early or packing him a picnic. He cleared his throat. “Looks like a spot that serial killers would take their victims, actually,” he said. “Should I be worried you’re trying to kill me?”

Ty laughed. “I thought it would be the perfect place,” she said as they got out of the car. What she thought it would be perfect
for
, he wasn’t sure. “It’s different, you know?”

She took his hand in one of hers—naturally, easily, as though they’d been holding hands forever. JD began to sweat. This was definitely a date. Which meant at one point, she might expect him to kiss her. Which meant he should start being nervous approximately now.

She led him toward a low broken window on the side wall of the warehouse. Faded stalks of grass, old cigarette butts, and shards of broken glass formed the carpet below their feet.

“Careful,” JD said, noticing Ty’s strappy sandals. “You’re not
exactly dressed for urban adventuring.” He reached over to grab the picnic basket—an ornate wicker thing with a bright red ribbon wrapped around the handle.

“And you are?” She smiled huge, revealing paper-white teeth.

“These pants were probably made when this warehouse was still functional,” JD said in defense of his gray corduroys. “And suspenders are very practical.”

“Whatever you say.” She giggled as she put one leg through the window and then the other, snaking her body carefully to avoid snagging her clothing on any jagged edge. He followed her lead much less gracefully, managing to snap off a piece of the window ledge with his workboot as he jammed his foot through.

Once inside, she motioned for him to follow her down a hallway. Their footsteps echoed in the dark. The place was vast, cavernous, full of large, empty rooms, presumably places where old machines used to sit. It smelled like damp and bird shit and mice. Dusty shafts of sun filtered weakly through the broken windows and pitted roof, but did little to penetrate the dark. JD fought to ignore a buzzing anxiety, a fear that spiders might drop on him from above or rats would suddenly swarm them from the darkness.

It was, without a doubt, the worst picnic place he could imagine.

He cleared his throat. “So, how’d you find this place?”

“I like old things,” Ty said. “Always have. My cousins and I
like to explore. See who can dig up the best stuff. Ascension is crazy old. There’s a lot of cool places around here. Stories like you wouldn’t believe . . . haunted places. Places where they staked witches, or burned them alive. Well, women who they
thought
were witches, anyway.” For a second, her voice rang out, steely, harsh. Then she turned to him, and her teeth flashed in the half-dark. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Well, it seems like this would be the place to find them,” JD said, trying to joke. But he was uncomfortable. There
was
something about this place that freaked him out, made him feel as though he were being watched.

“Let’s find out. . . . ” Ty said, trailing off as they came to a tight, rickety stairway not unlike the one that led to the catwalk at the theater. “This way.”

She grabbed the basket from his hands and led the way, climbing so quickly it was almost as if she floated above the rung-like steps. He followed much less surely, planting his feet nervously and gripping the railings on either side.

The top of the stairs opened up into a bright, window-lined room. The walls were brick and the floors were thick slabs of wood. Iron pillars stood around the otherwise empty space. It was dusty and in disrepair. No one had been here in a long time.

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.