The next day, at high school , I parked in my usual place,
get out of the car and, without paying the slightest attention to Damen, run to meet Haven at the gate. And I who usually avoid
carefully with physical contact, I rush into my friend’s arms.
It’s okay, I love you too, she giggles, pulling away. I wasn’t going to stay angry my whole life, you know.
Her red hair is dull and flattened, her nail polish
black, all flaky, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced than ever, and his complexion pale. Even though she swears to me that she is fine, I can’t help but hug her with all my strength.
I observe her carefully, trying to read her, but,
except for its pale gray, transparent aura, I can’t make out much.
How do you feel ? She pushes me away.
What’s wrong ? What are these great outpourings? Especially you, the eternal one hiding behind her hood and her iPod.
I heard that you were ill, and as you were absent yesterday…
I won’t say any more, I feel a little ridiculous putting it this way. But she just laughs.
I know what’s going on. It’s your fault, Damen. Barely landed, you melt our ice queen and transform her into a kind of Care Bear dripping with
romanticism.
Damen forces a laugh, while Miles takes Haven’s arm and leads her into the courtyard.
It was probably the flu, she adds. And for nothing
To fix it, I was in a deep depression because of Evangeline. I had such a high fever that I even passed out, do you realize?
I let go of Damen’s hand to find myself level with Haven.
It’s true ?
Yes, it was very curious. In the evening, I went to bed
dressed a certain way, and the next day I woke up with completely different clothes. It’s impossible to find my things. As if they had vanished…
It must be said that your room is a real souk, laughs Miles. Or maybe they were hallucinations. It happens when you have a fever, you know.
Yes maybe. But in the meantime, my black scarves have disappeared. I must have borrowed this from my brother, she said, pointing to his navy blue scarf.
Damen catches up with me and takes my hand again, fingers intertwined, triggering a wave of heat along my spine.
Was there anyone to take care of you? he asks.
Do you want to laugh? Even if I were emancipated like you, it wouldn’t change much. And then my door was locked. I could have died and no one would have noticed.
And Drina? I said, my stomach knotting. Haven gives me a funny look.
She has been in New York since Friday evening. In any case, I don’t
I don’t wish you to catch this flu, because even though I had some pretty cool dreams, they weren’t really your style, I don’t think.
I let go of Damen’s hand to join Haven as she stops in front of her class and leans against the wall.
Did you dream of a canyon, by chance? She pulls away, giggling.
Excuse me, but you are encroaching on my living space! No,
not the slightest canyon in my dreams. Just gothic stuff. It’s hard to explain, more like gore with blood everywhere, I think.
As soon as she says the word “blood” everything goes black
and I fall backwards. Damen barely catches up with me.
Ever! he exclaims, visibly very worried.
Opening my eyes, when I see him leaning over me, something
Something in the expression on his face, the intensity of his gaze, seems familiar to me. The memories start to come back when Haven’s voice makes me lose track.
It starts like this. I didn’t faint right away, but I felt dizzy at first.
What if she was pregnant? Miles suggests, loud enough for several students to hear in the hallway.
I stand up unsteadily, surprised to feel better already, safe in Damen’s arms.
It’s unlikely, I said. In any case, things are better now.
Damen, you should take her home, she doesn’t look well, Miles intervenes.
Yes, adds Haven. Go home and rest if you don’t want to get really sick.
No matter how much I insist on going to class, no one listens to me, and
finally Damen puts an arm around my waist to lead me back to his car.
This is ridiculous, I say as he pulls out of the parking lot and turns the corner. I feel perfectly fine. Besides, we’re going to get killed if we skip another day of school.
No one is going to get killed. And I remind you that you fainted. You were lucky I caught you.
Exactly. You caught me, and I’m much better. Really. Besides, if you’re that worried, you should just take me to the infirmary instead of kidnapping me.
I didn’t kidnap you, he retorts, offended. I just wanted to take care of you, that’s all.
Ah, because you are also a doctor?
He doesn’t pick up. He passes the street that leads to my aunt’s house, continues onto Coast Highway and stops in front of an imposing gate. He signals to the guard, who lets us pass
with a smile. She vaguely reminds me of someone, but who?
Where are we going ?
Damen turns onto a winding road that climbs the hill and ends in a large empty garage at the bottom of a cul-de-sac.
At my house.
He takes me by the hand and guides me first into an opulent kitchen, then into the living room, where I stand there, hands on my hips, amazed by the sumptuous decor. Quite the opposite of the affluent California bachelor style I was expecting.
Is this really all yours?
I caress the soft velvet of the sofa with my hand, wandering my eyes around me over superb lamps, Persian rugs, a collection of abstract paintings and an exotic wood coffee table supporting a stack of art books, candles and a framed photo of me. I grab it to examine it more closely. I have no memory of it.
When did you take it?
Damen gestures for me to sit down.
Looks like you’ve never been here.
But no.
Of course yes ! Last Sunday, after the beach , you
remember? Besides, your suit is still up there. Come on, you need to rest, he said, tapping his hand on the couch.
I collapse on the big cushions, the portrait in my hand. I
asks when he took it. My hair is down, my face is animated, and I’m wearing a peach-colored sweatshirt that I completely forgot existed. I seem to be laughing, even if my look is serious and sad. Damen takes the frame back from me and places it back on the table.
I took this photo in high school, without your knowledge. I prefer candid photos, it’s the only way to capture the essence of someone. Now close your eyes and relax, I’ll make some tea.
A few minutes later, he returns with a steaming cup;
he drapes a blanket over my shoulders and wraps me in it from head to toe.
I place my cup on the table and check my watch. By leaving straight away, we have a chance of arriving in time for the second hour of class.
It’s very nice of you to look after me, but you don’t have to. I feel perfectly fine. We should go back to class.
Damen sits next to me and strokes my hair without taking his eyes off me.
Ever, I am informing you that you have lost consciousness. THE
The attentions with which he surrounds me embarrass me, especially since I know
although they are totally useless.
So what ? These are things that happen. His fingers move down to my scar.
Not when I’m here to watch over you.
I pull away before he has time to touch her. His hand falls.
No !
What is it ?
I prefer to lie, not to tell him the truth, that the scar is for me, and me alone. A memory of every moment so that I never forget. Reason why I gave up surgery
aesthetic and refused to let the doctor “fix it”. I knew nothing could ever get better, that it was my fault. This is why I hide my suffering under my bangs.
I don’t want you to catch my disease. Damen bursts out laughing.
I’m never sick.
I close my eyes before responding, exasperated:
And what’s more, he never gets sick!
Damen hands me the cup, shrugging his shoulders.
I take a sip before putting it down.
Let’s see, you never get sick, you never
trouble when you’re absent, you always get great grades, even when you skip class, all you have to do is grab a paintbrush and you’ll paint us a Picasso better than Picasso himself. You
cooks as well as a five-star chef, you worked as a model in New York before living in Santa Fe, that is to say after you lived in London, Paris, Egypt, Romania… You are emancipated, you do not work, and yet you live in a house
dream that must cost millions, luxuriously furnished, plus you drive a convertible, and…
Rome, he corrects.
Pardon ?
You talked about Romania. But it was in Rome.
Pardon ! I wanted to say that…
The words choke in my throat. Damen leans towards me. – What did you mean… ?
I swallow, looking away. I’m about to grab something that’s been bugging me for weeks. Some
thing concerning Damen and his almost superhuman dimension. Would be-
Is he a ghost, like Riley? No, impossible, everyone can see it.
He puts his hand on my cheek to force me to look at him.
Ever, he said, Ever, I…
But without letting him finish, I get up, throwing the blanket off my shoulders.
Take me home, please.
