Elizabeth Scott - Between Here and Forever

I’m sure I don’t make a face but I guess I do because he grins at me and says, “I swear! Not until I came here, and you must have noticed that it’s stopped. Word of my—of who I am, of my … you know—it’s gotten around.”

“Like you’ve never ever met a girl who doesn’t care?” I say, and I know I’m making a face now. I mean, yes, I know he has OCD, but he’s also acting like he’s a trol and I’m sure we both know he isn’t.

He’s silent for a second, and then looks out the window that shows the gleaming, green front lawn. “Did Tess like it when guys wanted her because of how she looked?”

And when I don’t say anything because he’s right, Tess knew she was good-looking but always avoided the guys who only saw that, he says,

“Exactly. Is it so weird that I want someone who actual y likes me even when I’m not—even when I can’t—” He blows out a breath. “I want someone who doesn’t care that I have to walk through doors a certain way and stuff.”

“Okay, I get that,” I say. “But you’re stil acting like you’re a diseased yak or something and—”

“A yak?” he says, smiling.

“Yeah,” I say, grinning back. “And you’re not. I mean, who doesn’t have problems? So that’s why I find it hard to believe that you’re having to wander around girl-less.”

“Wel , you’re here with me.”

“Like I count. You know what I mean.”

“Sure,” he says. “At the al -male schools my parents sent me to, there were girls everywhere. Hidden in the wal s and stuff. Don’t know how I keep missing them. And how come you don’t count?”

“Because I don’t,” I tel him, my stomach fluttering because I think I could count with him, and I definitely know I want to. “You’re just being nice, and it’s sweet, but you don’t have to do it. I know you never would have noticed me if I hadn’t asked you about Tess.”

“Okay, you’re right, I never noticed you before you came in to talk to me,” he says, and my heart sinks. I didn’t want to be right, but I guess I am.

“I mean, Clement mentioned you, but I was too busy trying to get through each shift in the gift shop without counting al the magazines,” he continues. “That’s why I was giving away al that gum. To try and stop myself from counting. But then you came in, and you were so intense and—

wel , a little strange, but I liked that. And then I got to know you, and it’s been the best thing that’s happened to me here. Or ever, real y.”

“A little strange?” I’m trying to sound like I’m calm, like I’m just having a simple, relaxing time hanging out with him but: I never hang out with anyone except Claire.

Eli and I are sitting awful y close now.

Despite what Eli seems to think, I’m not immune to how he looks, and when you combine that with how nice he is, you get—

You get want. And right now, I want to push Eli down onto the sofa or, better yet, have him push me down onto the sofa.

“Abby,” he says, and no one, not even Jack, has ever said my name like that, like it’s beautiful, like it holds want. Like it is want. I can’t quite catch my breath, the kick-thud of my heart swooping down into my stomach, breathless anticipation because I know he is going to kiss me; I see the same shock I’m feeling al over his face, surprise at how strong feelings you’ve told yourself you don’t get to have can be.

He moves closer stil , so close I have to close my eyes because I’m dizzy with the idea that there’s no space between where I end and he begins, and I feel it, the softest, gentlest brush of his mouth across mine, an almost kiss, a testing, and I curl myself toward him, wanting no space between us at al , anywhere, and—

And Clement says, “Eli, there you are! You never showed up at the hospital, so I got a ride home with Dr. Henry, who asked if we got that stupid ham he sent, as if that’s going to convince me to let him cut down the tree Harriet planted when we moved in because it’s ‘blocking his view.’ I ask you, who would even want twenty pounds of ham? And who thinks an enormous ham is the perfect gift for—oh, Abby! Hel o!”

He steps over to the sofa, gently clapping me on the shoulder. “I was wondering where you were too since I didn’t see you come in to visit Tess. I don’t suppose you’d like a ham sandwich, would you? We have plenty of ham, don’t we, Eli?”

“Yeah,” Eli mumbles, and Clement says, “Let’s go into the kitchen, shal we?” and waits, smiling at me, as Eli stands up, hands shoved into his pockets, and fol ows him into the kitchen.

Clement knows what’s going on. Or what was almost going on. And the web I was caught up in, the web of being with Eli, of knowing he wanted to be with me—it’s been shredded.

Because who did I forget while I was thinking about nothing but myself and what I want?

Tess.

Clement. And I don’t—I don’t want Eli to think I don’t want to be here. Because I do.

That’s the whole problem. I do want to be here. I want. And I’ve tried—I’ve tried so hard not to do that.

“I have to go,” I say, sticking my head into the kitchen. Clement is slicing an enormous ham as Eli stands next to him, a faint, dark flush across his face as he fiddles with a loaf of bread.

“Are you sure?” Clement says, looking at me closely enough that I get nervous and give him my usual angry smile, al bared teeth. He smiles back and keeps looking, like he knows what I’m thinking. How I’m feeling. Next to him, Eli casts one quick look at me, and then returns to staring at the bread.

“At least let me make you a sandwich,” Clement says, motioning for me to come into the kitchen. “Eli and I have eaten enough ham to last us a thousand years.”

“That’s okay. I’m not real y hungry, and I—with the ferry and stuff, I have to get there, so …”

“Oh,” Clement says, sounding surprised. “Wel , let me and Eli walk you out, al right?”

I nod, a little worried about what saying good-bye to Eli might be like, but it turns out I don’t get a chance to talk to him at al because Clement actual y does walk me to the door, chatting about the hospital as Eli trails behind him.

“See you tomorrow?” Clement asks, patting my arm, and when I nod again, he says, “Good. I’l look for you. I’m working at the information desk because Phoebe Van Worley’s gone off to see her daughter, who just had a baby.”

I look back after I walk out and the last thing I see is Eli peering at me over Clement’s head—he’s tal er than Clement is—a tentative smile on his face.

I smile back, but remember how I forgot Tess as soon as I’ve taken my bike out of Clement’s car. I head into Milford and pass the hospital feeling terrible, but it’s too late to stop now. If I do, I’l see my parents, and I can’t bear the idea of sitting there watching them watch Tess.

I can’t bear for them to know that I haven’t seen her today.

I ride down to the ferry, and see Claire three cars up. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone, though, and don’t ride up to her after we’ve al boarded.

Instead, I sit on my bike listening to the brisk slap of the water against the ferry, and as we leave Milford I head up to the front of the boat to watch it, weaving around Claire’s car.

I’m not thinking about the water, though. I’m not even thinking about Tess.

I’m thinking about Eli, and how we almost kissed.

Is it a good thing that we didn’t? The sensible part of me says yes. Putting aside the Tess thing, which I can’t, of course I can’t, there’s the fact that I—

I can’t think of anything to go there other than that I’m scared. I don’t want what happened with Jack to happen to me again. I don’t want to fal and break my own heart.