Evermore - Alyson Noel [66]
I slide onto my seat and unload my books, wondering why my boyfriend’s presence is making me feel so edgy and weird, then reach inside my iPod pocket and panic when I realize I left it at home.
“You don’t need that,” Damen says, reaching for my hand and smoothing my fingers with his. “You have me now.”
I close my eyes, knowing Mr. Robins will be here in just three, two, one—
“Ever,” Damen whispers, his fingers tracing over the veins on my wrist. “You feeling okay?”
I press my lips together and nod.
“Good.” He pauses. “I had a great weekend, I hope you did too.”
I open my eyes just as Mr. Robins walks in, noticing how his eyes aren’t as puffy, his face not as red, though his hands are still a little shaky.
“Yesterday was fun, don’t you think?”
I turn to Damen, gazing into his eyes, my skin infused with warmth and tingle merely because his hand is on mine. Then I nod in agreement, knowing it’s the response he wants, even though I’m not sure that it’s true.
________
The next couple of hours are a blur of classes and confusion, and it’s not until I get to the lunch table that I learn the truth about yesterday.
“I can’t believe you guys went in the water,” Miles says, stirring his yoghurt and looking at me. “Do you have any idea how cold it is?”
“She wore a wet suit.” Damen shrugs. “In fact, you left it at my house.”
I unwrap my sandwich, not remembering any of it. I don’t even own a wet suit. Do I? “Um, wasn’t that Friday?” I ask, blushing when all the events of that day come rushing back to me.
Damen shakes his head. “You didn’t surf on Friday, I did. Sunday was when I gave you a lesson.”
I peel the crust off my sandwich, and try to remember, but it keeps coming up blank.
“So, was she any good?” Miles asks, licking his spoon and gazing from Damen to me.
“Well, it was pretty flat so there wasn’t much to surf. Mostly we just lay on the beach, under some blankets. And yeah, she’s pretty good at that.” He laughs.
I gaze at Damen wondering if my wet suit was on or off under those blankets, and what, if anything happened under there. Is it possible that I tried to make up for Friday, then blocked it out so I can’t even remember it?
Miles looks at me, brows raised, but I just shrug and take a bite of my sandwich.
“Which beach?” he asks.
But since I can’t remember, I turn to Damen.
“Crystal Cove,” he says, sipping his drink.
Miles shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Please tell me you’re not turning into one of those couples where the guy does all the talking. I mean, does he order for you in restaurants too?”
I look at Damen, but before he can answer Miles goes, “No, I’m asking you, Ever.”
I think back to our two restaurant meals, one that wonderful day at Disneyland that ended so strangely, and the other at the racetrack when we won all that money. “I order my own meals,” I say. And then I look at him and go, “Can I borrow your Sidekick?”
He pulls it from his pocket and slides it toward me. “Why? You forget your phone?”
“Yeah and I want to text Haven and see where she is. I have the weirdest feeling about her.” I shake my head, not knowing how to explain it to myself, much less to them. “I can’t stop thinking about her,” I say, fingers tapping the tiny keyboard.
“She’s at home, sick,” Miles says. “Some kind of flu. Plus she’s sad about Evangeline, though she swears she no longer hates us.”
“I thought you said you hadn’t talked to her.” I pause and gaze up at him, sure that’s what he said in the car.
“I sent her a text in history.”
“So she’s okay?” I stare at Miles, my stomach a jumble of nerves though I can’t begin to grasp why.
“Puking her guts