Elizabeth Miles - Eternity

“Oh yeah, meeting me. That’s on everyone’s bucket list,” he said drily. “Who’s Meg?”

“Meg’s the third one of our little trio. We’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time,” she repeated. Again, it was an odd thing to say, but JD still felt kind of flattered.

Once introductions were made, Ty joined the group, chiming in seamlessly as Ali and Melissa discussed the intricacies of some dance-tumble move for the cheerleading squad. JD sat back, unable to take his eyes off of Ty. Of course, as soon as he studied her more closely, the differences between her and Em became sharper: her voice was deeper, her mannerisms more extravagant, her laugh louder and throatier. She wore a bright red flower in her hair, and it reminded him of something, though he couldn’t remember what.

He was simultaneously attracted to her, immediately and instinctively, and put off at the same time. Like he was looking at a mirage, a mist that might vanish if he tried to touch it.

“So, what do you do around here?” Ty asked JD as they waited for the food to arrive. “Other than school, I mean.”

Nothing, he nearly said, but he could see Melissa looking at him, silently praying for him not to be a geek. So he said: “Well, I like messing around with old cars . . . and right now I’m helping my friend do the lighting for a school play.”

“Oh, cool,” Ty said, flashing him a smile that showed off her perfectly white teeth. “I’ve always been interested in theater. Lighting, especially. Isn’t it funny how one thing can look completely different depending on what light you shine on it?”

The pizza arrived, steaming and greasy, and as soon as Ty took a bite, her eyes practically rolled back in pleasure. “Ummm, thisissogood ,” she said, her mouth full, eyes wide.

JD nodded and finished chewing. “Pete’s never lets you down.”

She wolfed down the rest of her slice and grabbed another one. “No, really, this is de-lish,” she said. Meanwhile, JD noticed that Ali had barely touched her own pizza.

“I guess I’m less hungry than I thought,” she said offhandedly when she saw him eyeing her plate. “Mel, want to come get refills on the soda? Then I’ll play you at Big Buck Hunter,” she added, pointing toward the handful of arcade game consoles in the corner.

“She literally has no idea what she’s missing,” Ty said when Ali and Melissa had gone off toward the counter. “I’m totally going to have a third piece!”

“Eat up,” JD said. He liked girls who could eat. That was one thing he’d always loved about Em: her crazy sweet tooth and obsession with all things chocolate. “I think I’m done. A little too grease-heavy for me.”

She looked at him seriously for a moment. When he stared back into her eyes, it was almost like looking into the center of a fire, where embers smoldered black-red. It sent shivers down his spine. “You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had pizza,” she said, going in for another bite. “You must think I’m such a freak, huh?”

“I think you’re hungry,” JD said.

Ty threw her head back and laughed, but it was different from before. Now the sound was surprisingly hoarse—like the laughter of a much older woman. Like she had dust in the back of her throat. The happy, hazy feeling surrounding JD dissipated momentarily.

“So, how long have you and your family been in town?” he asked. “Ascension’s a little screwed up right now. . . . ”

“Oh, you mean because of all the murders?” She dabbed at her mouth with a paper napkin, leaving a smear of red lipstick behind.

“Well, they weren’t murders , technically. There were two suicides and two accidents and . . . ” He trailed off.  “This is a kind of morbid conversation topic, huh?”

“When bad things happen, you can’t just pretend they didn’t,” she said.

He nodded, reaching for the stack of napkins. “That’s true,” he said. “Although lots of people seem to be good at doing that.”

“Oops, don’t take this one,” she said, whisking her lipstick-marked napkin away from him. “You don’t want to end up like Chase Singer did. . . . ”

JD’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

She smiled, looking temporarily embarrassed. “Sorry, that really was morbid. I was just thinking of that lipstick mark they found on Chase’s cheek.”

“Oh . . . I didn’t . . . ” JD trailed off, wondering if he’d heard that specific detail before. It seemed like something he would remember, but he didn’t. “You—you knew Chase?”

“Just by sight,” she said casually.

And just then, it hit him where he recognized Ty’s flower from: Drea’s service. Bright crimson, like the one that had ended up in Drea’s casket.

He was hit with a wave of nausea. “Where did you get that?” he asked, pointing to her hair. It occurred to him that perhaps she had sent all those orchids. He remembered how strange they had looked against the other bouquets: just like droplets of blood.

Ty removed the flower from where it was tucked into her hair and twirled it in her fingers.

“Isn’t it pretty?” she said.

“Were you at Drea Feiffer’s memorial service?”

“For a little bit. I kind of hung back. Were you close with Drea?”

“We were friends,” JD said, feeling his throat constrict. “It’s been a hard week. It just doesn’t seem right. Doesn’t seem fair.” He looked down at his lap. Jesus. This is why he didn’t go out—he’d just met this girl and so far they’d talked about nothing but death. “How did you know Drea?”

“Old family friends,” Ty said vaguely. She held her hand out as if to give him the flower, but when he reached for it she withdrew her hand quickly. Ty spoke again, but softly this time, as though through a sheet of silk. “You mention fairness . . . and I was always a big believer in justice. An eye for an eye, and all that. But these days, I’m seeing things differently. Some things just aren’t fair—you can’t make them fair. You know? Some things just happen. . . . And all we can do is let them.”

As she finished speaking, she placed the flower back in her hair.

JD nodded slowly. Her speech had left him feeling a little overwhelmed, like he’d been hit by a wave, or put under a spell. A good one. And she was right. Some things just weren’t fair, and he had to accept that and move on—whether it was Drea’s death or the fact that something was going on between Em and Crow.

“Don’t you two look serious,” Ali said teasingly as she and Melissa came back toward the table.

“You know me,” Ty said with a surprising edge. “Always—” She was interrupted by a low wolf whistle from across the restaurant.

JD swiveled around. Some frat boy in a baseball cap with a puffy beer face and squinty eyes was leering in their direction. Melissa was fidgeting uncomfortably. JD felt the impulsive desire to leap up and cover her.

“Hey, man, keep your eyes on your food, okay?” He made his tone good-natured yet firm, praying the guy would turn back to his pizza.

Ty put her hand on his arm. Her fingers were cold and smooth, like river rocks. “Just ignore him,” she whispered with a flirty smile. “Though I appreciate the chivalry.”

“Guys like that always get what’s coming to them,” Ali said, sliding into the booth. Melissa slid next to JD, and he put his arm around her.

“They sure do,” Ty said, but she suddenly seemed distracted. JD watched her eyes squint just a little, like she was trying hard to remember something.

And that’s when the hacking started, first loud and punctuated, then lower, gurgling. JD turned around. The frat boy, the one who had whistled, was leaning out of the booth, struggling to breathe. He had his hands around his throat. JD couldn’t even see his face, just the visor of his cap. Everyone in the restaurant was watching.