“I ran away today to avoid the hospital.” I grit my teeth. “It’s just like you said. One way or another, they always get you in the end.”
“One of these days,” Everett said softly, close to my ear, “someone’s going to get them back.” And before I could respond, he jabbed the doorbell and gave me one last look before he ran.
My mother opened the front door and screamed.
9
JUNE, SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD
Night fell eerily orange as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Although some distant voice of reason, buried under layers of fog, said it was impossible, my ceiling swirled with constellations, glittering stars that spun and tilted exactly the way science books said they did, meteors that shot with fiery plumes from one corner of my bedroom to the other. I was watching it all when I heard three sharp raps against my window.
I swung off the bed and crept over. Everett sat on the other side of my second-story windowpane, his face glowing reddish-orange. Quickly, I unlocked the window and heaved it up. Everett climbed inside, bringing balmy air and the scent of night-flowering jessamine from the garden.
“Blood moon tonight,” he said by way of greeting. He kept one hand hidden behind his back. “Have you seen it?”
I’d been grounded to my room since getting back from the hospital. I leaned out the window and gasped. The moon was full and vivid red—it looked like it was on fire. “It’s like the prophecy,” I breathed. “From the Book of Joel. ‘The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord.’”
Everett grinned. “You should see the town. They’re buying all the dry goods out of Piggy Wiggly, convinced it’s the apocalypse. I’m not surehow elbow pasta’s going to save them from the Rapture, but maybe be glad you’re locked inside.”
I glanced down at the grass below. “How did you get up here?” My voice came out low and dreamy.
Ever frowned at me. “There’s a trellis running up your house. Practically a ladder.”
“Ah.” I smiled at the image of Everett scaling my house like a jungle gym, then had to lean against my desk when the same thought made me dizzy.
He stepped forward, frown deepening. “What happened at the hospital?” Gently, he took my elbow. “Here, why don’t you sit down.”
I let him usher me to my bed. “They know we were together in the woods.”
“Who?”
“My parents. There was no getting around it when the doctor mentioned someone had cut my snakebite and sucked the venom out.”
Everett said nothing. He looked very beautiful standing there in the red moonlight. Tall, with dark hair falling every which way. Even the bruise that ringed his eye seemed a delicate decoration, the swelling gone down since this morning. I kept the thoughts to myself.
“The doctor called it an old hunter’s trick,” I said, trying to distract myself. “He said it’s not supposed to work. But he could hardly find a trace of venom in me.” I laughed. “You really stumped him.”
Ever didn’t laugh. “But he still gave you the antivenin, right? And something for the pain?”
I nodded. Moving my head felt like dragging it through mud.
Everett studied me. I was wearing an old, faded nightshirt and shorts that barely peeked out underneath, but for some reason, I didn’t feel ashamed. “Is that why you’re acting so strange? Because of the pain meds?”
My head was too heavy to hold up. I dropped back onto my bed. “After the doctor left, the psychiatrist came in. The one my parents wanted me to see. I was already in the hospital, so I was trapped.”
I couldn’t see Everett but felt him draw nearer. “What did the psychiatrist say?”
“He asked a lot of questions. How often I felt unhappy. If I was aware my overactive imagination and emotions were hurting my parents, if I felt ashamed when I became hysterical, if I believed people were out to get me, if I had the urge to run away.” I shook my head. “It was exhausting.”
“That’s not fair.” Everett’s sharp voice came from above me. “If you feel like people are out to get you, it’s because they are. You’re seeing clearly. Hysteria’s the only sane response to this town.”
I watched the stars glitter on my ceiling. “He gave my dad a prescription. I don’t know what, but something has to be wrong with me. They gave me one of the pills, and I’ve felt…” I searched for the right word. “So foggy, ever since.”
“Ruth.” Everett ran a hand over my arm, fingers skimming my skin, and the touch sharpened my focus. His worried face appeared in my line of sight. “Don’t take any more of those. Even if your parents force you, I don’t know, throw them up or something. This doesn’t feel right.”
I shrugged. “The pain’s gone, though. And I stopped feeling guilty…” I let my voice trail off, not willing to risk calling Renard’s ghost into the room.
Everett’s fingers trailed to my shoulder. Goose bumps followed in their wake. “Pain is how you know you’re alive, Ruth. It’s not something you should bury.”
