“You say bullying ruins lives.” My voice is trembling despite the champagne that has dulled my nerves. “You bullied me! You ruinedmylife. My crime?” I shake my head. “I still don’t fucking know.” I step closer to Gen and lower my voice. “What did I do to you? I was your best friend. And you treated me like you hated me. Why?”
Gen steps towards me to move away from the microphone that’s catching our entire conversation. But for a brief, terrifying moment, I think she’s going to push me or trip me or stick something in my hair. Instinctively, I lift one of the full glasses of champagne and swish it in her face. It’s a pre-emptive act of self-defence, one that I immediately realise was not necessary. Gen just stands there blinking, liquid sliding down her face, marking her dress. Her lips curl with fury. I place the glass on the floor, open my mouth to say something else, but the angry, alcohol-boosted adrenaline that filled my veins just a moment ago has trickled away, all used up. I have nothing else to say.
I turn to see that every person in the room is watching us. Cooper is right there in the middle standing next to the Elizabeth Taylor woman. His lips are pressed together in a gloomy line.
And then behind him, I see the dazzling blue eyes I’ve been thinking about since the day I first saw them. He’s dressed in a black-and-white-checked flannel shirt and khaki chinos. It’s clearly a costume, but I don’t know who he’s supposed to be. Even in such an ugly outfit he’s still ridiculously handsome, hair perfectly neat, shoulders pleasingly broad. He’s peering at me curiously, head tilted to the side. Merritt said that memories are wiped when accidental visitors arrive at Evermore. I need to tell him who I am.
I go to him.
29
I’m with him. Standing in front of him. The two of us in a small storeroom, just off the main ballroom. He looked surprised when I asked him to come with me but did it anyway. To his mind, I’m a complete stranger. My stomach sinks.
He looks around the room, I do the same. It’s lined with shelves stocked with candles and candlesticks, lightbulbs of every size and shape, and a couple of chandelier pieces in need of repair.
“A whole room just for the light-related paraphernalia,” I remark, my voice a little shaky.
“How the other half live,” he adds, resting his attention on me.
“My name is Delphie,” I say.
“Jonah.” He holds out his hand to shake mine. I do and a swoosh of heat warms my stomach as I recall the first time he touched me, how we just stood there holding hands like it was the most natural thing in the world. He smiles. He doesn’t much seem to mind that I’ve dragged him away from the party.I wonder what he thinks is happening right now. I should probably explain myself.
“Are you here tonight to dance?” I ask instead, putting off the conversation I actually need to have. “For a gig?”
He frowns slightly. “How did you know I was a dancer?”
“Oh! Yes so…Someone mentioned it out in the ballroom. Some guy? He said you shared an agent…”
“There’s another Alabaster Disaster here tonight, is there?” He laughs. “Sorry. In-joke—my agent’s a little less than effective these days. No. I’m here off the clock. As a plus-one.”
Oh! Maurice must have had the Post-it note not because Jonah was hired here tonight, but because he wasn’t available to be hired anywhere else. “Who are you supposed to be?” I ask.
Jonah laughs and brushes a tiny bit of lint from the chest of his flannel shirt. “It’s a bit of a niche reference, to be honest. Have you seen the filmBeetlejuice?”
I shake my head.
“It’s this Tim Burton movie from the eighties. I love it. When the girl I’m seeing invited me to accompany her here tonight, I wanted us to dress as Adam and Barbara from the film. Like I said, niche.”
“The…the girl you’re seeing?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty new, but going well, I think! I…Why did you want to speak to me? I’m intrigued. It’s not every day a mysterious Daisy Buchanan hurries me away to light-related paraphernalia rooms.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry for dragging you in here like a total weirdo. It’s so busy out there, though. You must think this is all very strange.”
He laughs lightly. “You seemed pretty angry back there. Iwasn’t about to say no to you. Although I am, you know, curious.” He leans back against the wall. “Why did you want to talk to me?”
Because he is perfect. Perfect and gentle and soulmate-y. I take a deep breath, opening my mouth to explain why I need to speak to him. But then I halt. Despite thinking about it nonstop, I actually have no clue where to begin explaining any of this. How the buggering hell do you start a conversation so big? So earthshaking? I can’t exactly tell him that we’ve already met but he doesn’t remember because we were both dead at the time. But I can’t start off too slowly either, because it’s taken me this long to find him, and I no longer have the time to get to know him a little better first. I just need him to kiss me. As soon as possible. Then later down the line I can explain things at a pace that won’t potentially melt his brain, maybe even go on a first date…
I lift my chin and stare Jonah right in the eye. I look more than “Good Very Good” tonight. I look pretty. Maybe even beautiful. And if Jonah was attracted to me in my nightie and pickle-green socks, freshly dead, then surely,surelyhe won’t mind if I just, you know, kiss him. And if it’s a good kiss—which, despite my lack of experience, it has to be, becausesoulmates—he will kiss me back. It will beinstinctive, nothing at all like the terrible kiss I had with Jonny Terry when I was eighteen. And…well, I don’t need to think further along than that. I just need him to kiss meback. That’s what Merritt wanted. For him to kiss me. There’s nothing else as important as that.
Okay. I’ve made my decision. There’s no point in waiting any longer. I reach out my hands to take his, just like we did in Evermore. I frown as the spark that ignited my body the first time I touched him is absent. Then I look into his eyes, and mystomach dips as I realise they are not interested and a little horny like they were when we met in the waiting room, but flicking from left to right as if looking for help. I peer down at our hands and find that his are just hanging limply in mine. I drop them.
“Um…I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I thought…I thought we had…and I just wanted to…” I trail off.
Jonah starts to fidget with the collar of his flannel shirt. “You’re very pretty. Incredibly so. But as I said, I’m seeing someone. She’s just out in the ballroom—” He cuts himself off and looks towards the door awkwardly. My heart starts to judder with panic. He can’t go! If he goes then it will all be over!
“No! Stay! Your date will wait, this is important!”
