Saving Everest Page 12

  “I don’t make the rules.” He shrugged.

  Just as he finished speaking, I saw Martha come toward the table. “Nice dress, Leah. Where did you get it from?”

  From the tone of her voice, I could tell she was up to no good. “Beverly. My name is Beverly; and I actually borrowed it from my Aunt M—”

  “That’s cool. So, Everest, you should come and sit with us.”

  Cara watched from the popular kids’ table, observing me, and I quickly turned my head. Everest stared blankly at Martha for a second before scoffing, “And why the hell should I do that?”

  Martha seemed a little taken aback and adjusted her posture. “Everyone told me to come over here and get you so we could all catch up. Cara has something to tell you, apparently.”

  His smug arrogance dropped and an unreadable expression fell upon his features before a mask of stone came back. “That would be a really good reason, if I actually gave a crap.”

  “I think this would be the part where you scamper away.” Nami’s comment came from behind us.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle and stood up to wrap my arms around her. I knew she was going to be here, but I also knew that she was going to be busy—presidential duties and all of that.

  “You look beautiful,” I heard for the first time tonight.

  “Oh please,” I responded to her, chuckling.

  “Nami. Always a pleasure,” Martha forced out of her mouth.

  “I wish I could say the same for you,” Nami laughed.

  Martha rolled her eyes and leaned over to whisper in Everest’s ear before walking back to her original table.

  A beeping tone randomly came from Nami’s boob, and she grabbed her phone.

  “Tiffany spotted Mikey and the gang trying to make an appearance here, completely ignoring the fact that they aren’t allowed to come to any more social events. Sorry, Beverly, but I’ve got to handle this.”

  “You’re fine. Go.”

  “So, only us, huh?” I glanced at Everest, who was talking to some random kids who’d approached him, and realized he didn’t hear me at all. “Guess not.”

  A different group of people approached him, and he chatted with them politely. I decided to go and get some food in hopes that by the time I was done he would be, too, but I wasn’t so lucky. I thought that the conversation was going to be short and quick, but it was still going. The pasta on my plate was growing more and more cold.

  I glanced over at Everest, who coincidentally just happened to look at me. “Sorry that I’m being the worst date.”

  “It’s fine. If this is the price to pay to hang out with you, then I’d wait hours,” I said, trying to not make him feel bad.

  “Stop, you’ll make me blush,” he joked, and I laughed.

  “What were you talking about anyway?” I asked curiously.

  “I was just catching up with people I haven’t spoken to in a long time,” he explained.

  I looked around and saw Cara walking in our direction. We hadn’t even been here for thirty minutes, and people had been swarming to talk to him the entire time. I couldn’t feel any kind of way because Everest didn’t belong to me. They were invested in him long before I was—so if anything, I was the intruder. The newbie to his fan club.

  “Looks like you’re gonna be catching up with a bunch of people tonight . . .” I tried to sound optimistic, but I knew it came out sounding awkward.

  Everest looked to see what I was talking about, and his eyes quickly returned to mine. “No, this wasn’t supposed to be how your night went.” He took my hand and stood up. “Come on.”

  I looked up at him confused. “What?”

  He laughed. “No time to explain. Come on, let’s go—she’s getting closer.”

  I didn’t ask any more questions and followed his lead out of the dance. I felt the rush of running in my dress, and laughed along with him. Suddenly, we were outside. I didn’t know where we were going, and I didn’t care. The night air whooshed past us, and the only sound it made was the dance our laughter made as it intertwined with the sky.

  24

  Everest

  Confession: is it wrong that a large part of me wanted to sit with Cara and Nash?

  —EF, October 13, 2018

  It felt so weird being at the dance and not being with them. Nothing made sense anymore. I didn’t know who I was. I used to know exactly who I was—Everest Finley, the only son of the great Frank Finley. But now I was just a lost guy who’d befriended a ghost girl whose soul shone so bright, I sometimes believed that she wasn’t human.

  I glanced at Beverly and her face was a mix of confusion and amusement as she clutched her dress so she wouldn’t trip over it. “Need some help?” I asked, slightly amused by the way she was running.

  She quickly glanced at me, and I noticed the bright smile as she turned her head away. “Nope.”

  Just as quickly as she protested, I had to hold her steady so she wouldn’t face-plant on the broken pieces of asphalt. A crack and a stumble were the only result. One hand on her waist and the other on her arm was the only thing keeping her balanced.

  I couldn’t help my slightly amused expression. “You sure?”

  Her face was a mix of annoyance and laughter. “I think I broke my heel.”

  She backed away from my hold and held her foot out to look at it. Sure enough, the left heel was hanging and close to falling completely off.

  “Well, this didn’t go as smoothly as I planned,” I laughed. We were only a few feet away from my car.

  Beverly looked at me with a ghost smile. “This isn’t funny. These aren’t even my shoes. I borrowed them from Nami.”

  “No big deal. I’ll buy her new ones. Are you okay, though?” I asked, observing her small foot for any casualties.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, although walking might be difficult.” She looked back down at the peg-legged heel, and huffed.

  “Well, don’t completely rule out running. Let me see you try with the broken shoe. I think you’ll have a wicked cool limp—” I didn’t even get to finish before she took off the shoe and playfully hit me on the shoulder with it.

  “How about I give you a limp?” she threatened.

  “Oh yeah?” I smirked, taking a step closer. I wasn’t sure what was going on here, but it felt fun.

  “What? You don’t think I could take you, Finley?”

  She surprised me with her words, and it looked like she even shocked herself.

  “You said it, not me,” I said with a grin.

  She walked closer and rested the broken heel loosely in her hand, like she had an agenda with it. “So, you do think I can take you?”

  Instantly, my mind went to a thought about what it would be like to kiss her, but it left as quickly as it came. I shook my head and quickly threw her frame over my shoulder. We were friends. I needed to keep telling myself that; only friends. “Just because I didn’t say it doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking it.”

  “Your butt is in my face,” was her only response.

  I laughed and realized that we were still in the school parking lot. “If it makes you feel any better, your butt is pretty up close and personal for me too.”

  “No, that does not soothe my concerns. Certainly does not make me feel any better whatsoever.”

  I laughed again for what felt like the millionth time tonight. I switched her body around so that I could carry her bridal-style.

  “Better?” I asked.

  Her eyes were so dark, but sometimes there were moments that seized them with light and made them glow. Like right now, for instance, the moonlight was hitting her irises and emphasizing her goddess-Mother Earth persona. Her lashes were short, but personally I liked it a lot because everyone could get the full effect of her big brown eyes. Her nose was petite and peppered with little dots and her lips were full and plump. P
hysically, Beverly was dark, but her spirit was so full of light. Physically I was light, but my spirit was torn in shreds and blacker than coal. Life was full of contradictions.

  “My hero,” she deadpanned.

  Something about the way she said it hit me in the gut. I carried her to my car.

  “Where are we going?” she asked once I placed her in the passenger seat.

  “To get you some food.”

  I drove to Squirrel Hill to take her to get the best pizza in Pittsburgh. The restaurant was a place where the smell greeted you before you even pulled onto the street. We were overdressed and probably looked like a couple of idiots, but that was half of the fun of it all.

  “Do you like it?” I asked when she had a mouthful of pizza.

  She nodded her head while she chewed. “It’s all right.”

  “Only all right, huh?” I grinned.

  She wiped her mouth. “It’s so good. How’d you know about this place?”

  “How can you be born here and not know about this place? Shame. It’s one of my special spots,” I explained.

  “You have a lot of special spots,” she observed.

  “If your family basically bought a town and you didn’t know anyone in it, then you’d have lot of spots too.” I leaned back against the booth.

  “Did you have lots of friends before high school?” she asked.

  “Honestly, no. I moved too much to form solid friendships.”

  I looked across the table at Beverly. How was it that she didn’t have friends? I, for the life of me, didn’t understand why I’d never noticed her.

  “What about you? Were you Miss Popular in the preteen days?” I joked, but was actually really curious.

  “I was homeschooled all the way up to eighth grade, and I’ve never been involved in any sports or activities. By the time I went to public school, everyone was already friends with everyone. I didn’t fit in anywhere, and it seemed as though I was invisible.”

  That seemed like the opposite of what I’d had to go through as the new kid in my ninth-grade year. I was exposed—everyone seemed to have already me figured out before I walked through the building.

  “Why were you doing homeschooling?”

  “My mother didn’t want me to leave. When all the other kids were leaving for kindergarten, she couldn’t drop me off. I guess she was afraid of losing me.”

  I looked at her and her face was unreadable. “What’s your mom like?”

  She looked surprised that I asked her that question, which spiked my curiosity more.

  “My mother? She’s gorgeous. She used to compete in beauty pageants. She was amazing at them, too, won every single one she competed in. She’s very sarcastic and has that dry humor that you kind of have to get used to. She’s blunt and . . . stuff.”

  I cracked a smile. “And stuff? Care to elaborate?”

  “She’s a good person, and I love her, but sometimes she feels more like a roommate than a mother.”

  I guessed Beverly and I had the parent-drama thing in common.

  “I saw you talking to my mom tonight,” I said. “What were you guys talking about?”

  “You,” she responded simply.

  I froze for a second. “What about?”

  “About how you’re getting better.”

  I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about that. Sometimes her encouragement was too much for me. I didn’t deserve the hope she put into me. The future wasn’t granted. There was no future for me—for us. She was going to get married, pop out some kids, and be the best freaking mom that there had ever been, and I’d be six feet under. Thankful that I was granted the opportunity to witness an angel on Earth.

  I fought to keep this all in my mouth and squeezed out a simple response. “Oh.”

  She leaned forward. “Why the face?”

  “Nothing. Are you done eating?”

  We drove around a little bit after that, burning gas and time. Neither of us really wanted the night to come to an end. We were driving around the city for probably over an hour. The drive was silent, but the silence wasn’t loud. I lost myself in the comfort of it. Beverly’s head leaned against the window. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve her friendship, but I was grateful I had it. She was just so understanding. I often thought to myself that if she ever talked to the stars, they’d talk back.

  “Bev.”

  “Hm?” she sighed.

  “I’m sorry that homecoming didn’t go as planned.”

  “Don’t apologize. Believe it or not, I’ve actually had a good time. I never got to dance, but that just means that you’ll make up for it, right?” She nudged me playfully.

  “Whatever you want.” I glanced at her and didn’t miss her sweet smile.

  “I want to know another special spot.”

  “Next time.”

  25

  Beverly

  “Hey, Betty.” Everest hopped on the glass counter, which I was currently standing behind. He had a playful grin on his face as he looked at me.

  “Not you too,” I laughed while placing cake pops on display.

  He immediately grabbed a fresh cake pop and swallowed it as quickly as he’d grabbed it.

  “What’s the story behind them calling you that?” Licking his lips free of icing, he waited for my answer.

  “No story. I’m guessing they actually think that’s my name,” I answered, forcing a laugh.

  The faint dimple in his left cheek popped out and his eyes widened a fraction. “No way.”

  “Way.” I placed the tray on the cart behind me. Many times I would correct them, but it seemed as they always resorted back to calling me Betty.

  “So, you mean to tell me that you’ve been working here for over two years and they still don’t know your name?” He was getting a kick out of this.

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Why else do you think they call me that?”

  “I don’t even know,” he laughed, glancing up at the stage.

  “Are you about to go on?”

  “Yeah, break’s over.” He strolled through people before he turned around and jogged back over to me. “We’re hanging out after work. I got another place to show you.”

  “New secret place?” I smiled, excited.

  “Old to me, new to you,” he answered before jogging back to the stage.

  “He’s amazing, isn’t he?” Rose asked without looking for an answer. She gazed up at Everest on the stage, wooing the crowd like he had been for the past weeks. The café was getting fuller and fuller by the day, mostly with kids from our school. Everest had turned into a little-town rock star.

  “Order at table three,” Felix shouted and tapped the bell, signaling me to get back to work. Work had been more vigorous due to the increasing number of customers. I wasn’t complaining; it kept me around people. I used to be always alone—that was probably why I enjoyed the company of others so much. It was just a bonus that my paycheck had increased.

  I handed the plate of chicken fingers to table three: a guy with tattoos and messy brown hair and a girl with purple hair and lots of piercings. I’d never seen them in here before, but I needed to get used to not expecting to see my usual customers.

  The guy looked mischievous but his eyes were warm. The girl looked bored.

  “Here ya go.” I smiled at them both, but only the boy returned it.

  “Hello, Beverly, this seems to be the first time we have come in contact. I’m Michelangelo Cosweld, but to avoid getting their asses kicked, smart people call me Mikey.” I laughed, and remembered hearing his name many times. He was the local delinquent, and apparently went through girls like they were underwear. This was the first time I was able to put a face to that name, and beneath the bad-boy look he had going on right now, he looked playfully innocent. He looked like he could persuade an
yone to do anything, and that was probably what made him so dangerous.

  “Hello,” I responded softly, almost kicking myself for waving awkwardly.

  Mikey rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt and nudged the girl before grabbing a chicken finger.

  “Introduce yourself,” he said.

  She slowly turned to look at me, and her eyes looked so pretty, yet so sad. My heart clenched at her somber look before her face hardened and she forced a smile with clenched teeth.

  “Aurora.”

  She offered nothing more and turned her attention to the stage, the same bored look present on her features. I said my good-bye and headed back to my station.

  “Any requests?” Everest spoke into the mic, his white T-shirt damp from sweat and his growing-out, messy hair glossy in the lights.

  He’d been singing for about an hour. The café was filled with the sounds of his voice—songs ranging from old to new, from originals to covers. His voice was timeless. I couldn’t help but notice how happy and contented he looked, joking around on the stage and pouring his soul into the room. I couldn’t even fathom how different my life would have been if he had succeeded in his attempt.

  A slow melody carried through the café as his fingers began to work the strings. My heart rattled wildly in my chest. His eyes were closed and his lips parted, and from the first haunting note, he captured the attention of everyone in the café.

  I couldn’t tell a lie, that note crawled from the soles of my feet and engulfed me whole. It was like his pain took over his diaphragm. It was so beautiful.

  Trapped on an island of my mind . . .

  quickly running out of time.

  Tell me I’ll be fine . . .

  People looked up from their laptops and conversations stopped—all of the attention was on him. His runs and riffs blended perfectly with the lyrics, something that couldn’t be faked.

  Can you hear me scream?

  Lie to me,

  Lie to me,

  Lie to me,

  Tell me the last thing I see