Alyson Noël - Evermore

I shake my head. "I know what I saw:"

He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and taking a long deep breath before he looks at me and says, "I know how it looks. And I know you don't believe me.

But I've been trying to explain and you just wouldn't let me, so I did all of this to get your attention. Because, Ever, trust me, you've got it all wrong."

He looks at me, his eyes dark and intense, his hands relaxed and open, but I'm not buying it.

Not a single word. He's had hundreds, maybe thousands of years to perfect such an act, resulting in a really good show, but still only a show: And even though I can't believe I'm about to say it, even though I can't quite get my mind wrapped around it, there's only one explanation, no matter how crazy.

"All I know is that I want you to go back to your coffin, or your coven, or wherever it is that you lived before you came here and-" I gasp for breath, feeling like I'm trapped in some horrible nightmare, wishing I'd wake up soon. "Just leave me alone-just go away!"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head, stifling a laugh as he says. "I'm not a vampire, Ever."

"Oh, yeah? Prove it!" I say, my voice shaky, my eyes on his, fully convinced I'm just a rosary, garlic clove, and wooden stake short of ending all this.

But he just laughs. "Don't be ridiculous. There's no such thing."

"I know what I saw," I tell him, picturing the blood, Haven, that strange and creepy room, knowing that as soon as I see it, he'll see it too. Wondering how he'll possibly try to explain his friendship with Marie Antoinette, Picasso, Van Gogh, Emily Bronte, and William Shakespeare when they lived centuries apart.

He shakes his head, then looks at me and says, "Well, for that matter, I was also a good friend of Leonardo da Vinci, Botticelli, Francis Bacon, Albert Einstein, and John, Paul, George, and Ringo." He pauses, seeing the blank look on my face and groaning when he says, "Christ, Ever, the Beatles!" He shakes his head and laughs. "God, you make me feel old."

I just stand there, barely breathing, not comprehending, but when he reaches for me, I still have the good sense to pull away. "I'm not a vampire, Ever. I'm an immortal."

I roll my eyes. "Vampire, immortal, same difference," I say, shaking my head and fuming under my breath, thinking how ridiculous it is to argue over a label.

"Ah, but it happens to be a label worth arguing over, as there is a big difference. You see, a vampire is a fictional, made-up creature that exists only in books, and movies, and, in your case, overactive imaginations." He smiles. "Whereas I am an immortal. Which means I've roamed the earth for hundreds of years in one continuous life cycle. Though, contrary to the fantasy you've conjured in your head, my immortality is not reliant on bloodsucking, human sacrifice, or whatever unsavory acts you've imagined."

I squint, suddenly remembering his strange red brew and wondering if that has something to do with his longevity. Like it's some kind of immortal juice or something.

"Immortal juice." He laughs. "Good one. Imagine the marketing possibilities." But when he sees I'm not laughing, his face softens when he says, "Ever, please, you've no need to fear me. I'm not dangerous, or evil, and I would never do anything to hurt you. I'm simply a guy who's lived a very long time. Maybe too long, who knows? But that doesn't make me bad. Just immortal. And I'm afraid…»

He reaches for me, but I back away, my legs shaky, unstable, refusing to hear any more.

"You're lying!" I whisper, my heart filled with rage. "This is crazy! You're crazy!"

He shakes his head and gazes at me, eyes filled with unfathomable regret. Then he takes a step toward me and says, "Remember the first moment you saw me? Right here in the parking lot? And how the second your eyes met mine you felt an immediate rush of recognition? And the other day, when you fainted? How you opened your eyes and looked right into mine, and you were so close to remembering, on the very verge of recollection, but then you lost the thread?"

I stare at him, immobile, transfixed, sensing exactly what he's about to say, but refusing to hear it. "No!" I mumble, taking another step back, my head dizzy, my body off balance as my knees begin to buckle.

"I'm the one who found you that day in the woods. I'm the one who brought you back!"

I shake my head, my eyes blurred with tears. No!

"The eyes you looked into, on your-return-were mine, Ever. I was there. I was right there beside you. I brought you back. I saved you. I know you remember. I can see it in your thoughts."

"No!" I scream, covering my ears and closing my eyes. "Stop it!" I yell, not wanting to hear any more.

"Ever." His voice invades my thoughts, my senses. "I'm sorry but it's true. Though you have no reason to fear me. "

I crumble to the ground, face pressed against my knees, as I break into violent, gasping, shoulder-shaking sobs. "You had no right to come near me, no right to interfere! It's your fault I'm a freak! It's your fault I'm stuck with this horrible life! Why didn't you just leave me alone, why didn't you just let me die?"

"I couldn't stand to lose you again," he mumbles, kneeling down beside me. "Not this time. Not again."

I lift my gaze to his, having no idea what he means, but hoping he won't try to explain it. I've heard about all I can take, and I just want it to stop. I just want it to end.

He shakes his head, a pained expression masking his face.

"Ever, please don't think that way, please don't-"

"So-so you just randomly decide to bring me back while my whole family dies?" I say, gazing up at him, my sorrow consumed by a crushing rage. "Why? Why would you do such a thing? I mean, if what you say is true, if you're so powerful you can raise the dead, then why didn't you save them too? Why only me?"

He winces at the hostility in my gaze, tiny arrows of hate directed at him. Then he closes his eyes when he says, "I'm not that powerful. And it was too late, they'd already moved on. But you, you lingered. And I thought that meant you wanted to live."

I lean against my car, closing my eyes, gasping for breath, thinking: So it really is my fault.

Because I procrastinated, lingered, wandered through that stupid field, distracted by those pulsating trees and flowers that shivered. While they moved on, crossed over, and I fell for his bait…

He looks at me briefly, then averts his gaze.

And wouldn't you know it, the one time I'm so angry I could actually kill someone, my anger's directed at the one person who claims to be, well, un-killable.

"Go away!" I finally say, ripping the crystal-encrusted horseshoe bracelet from my wrist and throwing it at him. Wanting to forget about that, about him, about everything. Having seen and heard more than I can take. "Just-go away. I never want to see you again."

"Ever, please don't say that if you don't really mean it," he says, his voice pleading, sorrowful, weak.

I place my head in my hands, too weary to cry, too shattered to speak. And knowing he can hear the thoughts in my head, I shut my eyes and think: You say you'd never harm me, but look what you've done! You've ruined everything, wrecked my whole life, and for what? So I could be alone? So I could live the rest of my life as a freak? I hate you-I hate you for what you've done to me-I hate you for what you've made me, I hate you for being so selfish! And I never, ever want to see you again!

I stay like that, head in my hands, rocking back and forth against the wheel of my car, allowing the words to flow through me, over and over again.

Just let me be normal, please just let me be normal again. Just go away, leave me alone.

Because I hate you-I hate you-I hate you-I hate you-

When I finally look up, I'm surrounded by tulips-hundreds of thousands of tulips, all of them red. Those soft waxy petals glinting in the bright morning sun, filling up the parking lot and covering all the cars. And as I struggle to my feet and brush myself off, I know without looking: their sender is gone.